Addison Cooke and the Treasure of the Incas (20 page)

Molly picked up Addison's thread. “So Supay's skull is carved into the cliff somewhere right below us.”

Addison nodded. “We couldn't see the carvings on our climb up because of the fog . . . plus five hundred years of vegetation.”

“It's just a theory,” said Eddie, staring doubtfully at the treacherous wall of granite.

“There's only one way to test it,” said Addison. “And if it's right, we'll find Supay's mouth carved into the rock.”

“Supay's mouth is open wide to swallow up the brave,”
Eddie recited.

The team groped their way diagonally downward, from toehold to toehold, working their way toward the center of the cliff face. Their hair blew in their faces, their clothes flapped and fluttered like a ship's sails in a squall.

“My hands are icicles,” said Eddie. “I can't hold on much longer.”

“Keep going,” said Addison. “We'll make it.”

“My toes are so frozen they could shatter!”

“You should have worn cleats,” said Molly through chattering teeth.

At last, Raj spotted a ledge bulging from the sheer cliff wall below. “Wish me luck,” he said, and let go of the rock.

“Raj, wait!” shouted Molly. But Raj was well on his way. He slid twenty feet down the slick granite to land in a crouch on a stone outcropping.

“It's okay!” he yelled.

The rest of the team followed suit, hollering as they slid down the chute. They collapsed on the rocky outcropping, exhausted.

For a few minutes, they did nothing but catch their breath. Every step was exhausting in the high elevation.

Raj stood up and peered at the overhanging spar of the cliff, filled with tangles of vines. “The good news is, we're alive. The bad news is, I don't see anything that looks like Supay's mouth.”

Addison swatted away a few vines. “This is a thorny problem,” he agreed, pulling some prickers from his palm. “I wish I had my brain juice.” Addison folded his arms and paced, deep in thought.

“A samurai makes every decision in the space of seven breaths,” Raj put in helpfully.

“That's sound advice. My uncle Nigel has his own three-step process for solving problems. He sits down, thinks really hard about it, and if he still can't solve it, he takes a nap.”

“I don't know if we have time for that,” said Molly.

Addison decided a rest wouldn't hurt. He found the patch of rock face most well padded with vines. He sat
down, leaned his back against the vines, and was quite surprised when he fell inside the mountain.

•   •   •

Addison landed on his back inside a dark cave. He yelped, parted the vines, and scrambled back outside onto the cliff ledge. The Cooke brain was never as razor sharp as in moments of adversity. Addison quickly surmised that the hanging vines hid a cave opening hollowed into the cliff wall.

“Well, that happened,” said Addison, summing things up. He brushed himself off and got to his feet.

“I guess your uncle's method works,” said Raj, peering through the tangled mass of vines into the cave opening.

Molly began scraping away the old and rotted vegetation, clearing them away from the rock. Eddie, Raj, and Addison pitched in. The vines fell away to reveal a shocking sight.

The massive open jaws of a skull were carved into the stone. Carved, gnarled teeth sprouted from the floor and ceiling. Addison spotted two demonic eyes carved into the cliff wall high above, flanked by the towering, twisting ram's horns. The gaping, screaming jaws formed an open cave leading deep inside the mountain.

“Supay's mouth,” Molly whispered in awe.

“Not more skulls!” Eddie exclaimed. “What is with El
Mozo and skeletons? Didn't he have any other hobbies or interests?”

“It is creepy up here,” Raj agreed. “All day, I've felt like someone is watching us.”

“El Mozo's behind all of this,” Molly declared, gesturing at the cave. “If he was working with the Incas and had all that gold, he could afford to build the Cathedral of Lost Souls and the Castle on the Edge of Forever. He could afford to build this hidden mountain cave and help the Incas hide their treasure.”

“Look over here,” said Raj. “Footprints. Lots of them.”

Addison edged closer to Raj and examined a cluster of sandy footprints at the cave's entrance. He spotted an odd circular mark, the size of a quarter, pressed into the dust. The track appeared every few feet beside a large set of boot prints. Addison pointed. “Do you know what this circular mark is?”

Raj squatted down and studied the print. He slowly nodded his head. “A walking stick.”

Addison turned to his team and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Professor Ragar is already here, somewhere inside this mountain.”

“His group could have climbed up this morning, or even last night,” suggested Raj. “That's why we never spotted them.”

“And they placed the vines back over the cave entrance
when they entered,” concluded Addison. He yanked down a few long vines, coiled them, and looped them over his shoulder. “Mountaineering rope,” he explained.

Raj nodded his approval. He searched the underbrush and armed himself with a heavy stick.

Eddie stared into the impenetrable darkness of the cave. His voice caught in his throat. “We're really going to do this?”

Raj quoted the final clue, “
‘Supay's mouth is open wide to swallow up the brave.'
”

Addison took a breath and summoned his courage. “I guess we're the brave.” And with that, he stepped into the darkness.

A
DDISON'S FLASHLIGHT PIERCED THE
gloom
. A low stone ceiling arched overhead. He crept stealthily down the corridor. Each footstep scuffing the stone floor echoed loudly in the silent cavern.

Carved stone skulls adorned the walls, painted red and black with ochre and pitch. Addison's flickering flashlight cast macabre shadows that capered and leered. In the play of the light, the skulls appeared to howl, laugh, or scream.

The path wound deeper into the mountain, dank and musty with the centuries. The team climbed higher, feeling the elevation in the thinning air. The cave walls were painted with scenes of horrific Incan massacres. The Spanish conquest was recorded in gruesome detail; native people impaled on spears and stabbed with pikes.

At last, they reached a stone crypt carved into the wall of the cave.

“Whose grave is this?” whispered Molly.

Eddie blew away a few centuries of dust and read the inscription on the tomb. He gasped. “El Mozo.”

Addison removed his cap and the group stood for a moment in respectful silence.

“How did he die?” asked Molly.

“Pizarro's men caught up with him in a town called Cusco, not far from here,” said Addison. “They defeated his army and executed El Mozo in the city square, along with two hundred of his followers.”

“The Incas must have buried him here to guard the tunnel,” said Eddie, his eyes wide in the darkness.

Raj scanned the dusty footprints on the cavern floor. “Ragar's men passed this way. They're ahead of us, somewhere up this path.”

“I don't think El Mozo would want the professor's men taking the treasure,” said Molly.

“I don't want the professor's men taking the treasure, either,” Addison said. “Let's keep moving.”

The path wound past the time-gnarled bones of what looked to be a deer, perhaps dragged into the cave by a cougar many years past. Addison's flashlight batteries decided to call it a day. The light faded to yellow, then orange, and then finally went kaput. The group was plunged into total darkness.

“Now what?” said Molly.

“Well, this—” began Addison.

“Addison!” Molly interrupted. “If you say ‘this is a sticky wicket' one more time, I swear—”

“Okay, fine,” said Addison. “This is a tricky pickle.”

Molly sighed. “Not much better.”

“Don't worry, guys, I've got this.” Raj used his Swiss Army knife to saw off one of his pant legs. This he tied around his stick, forming a torch. He attempted to light the pant leg with a match, but it didn't catch. Instead, it was Raj's stick that burst into flames, shot sparks, emitted a horrible stench, and promptly flamed out.

“Hm,” said Raj.

“It was a good thought, but your stick was too flammable.” Addison groped in the dark and grasped the leg bone of the dearly departed deer. “Let's have another pant leg.”

Raj sawed off his other trouser leg and Addison tied it around the femur. This Addison rubbed in the pitch of one of the stone skulls. He handed it to Raj. “Light her up.”

Raj set match to torch, and the pitch burned as steadily as a living room lamp.

“Onward and upward,” said Addison.

The team continued deeper into the darkness, the cave walls seeming to press in on them. At one point, Addison thought he heard distant footsteps following far behind, but when he stopped to listen, the sound vanished. He decided it was the echo of the rocky tunnel.

Eventually, the path narrowed so severely they were forced to walk single file. Addison stopped and beckoned for light. Raj held the torch high so its light reflected off the mica in the walls.

Just ahead, a wooden bridge arched across a deep crevice in the rock. The chasm was dark and bottomless. The ancient timbers of the rickety bridge were splintered and rotten.

“Do we trust it?” asked Eddie.

“Ragar did,” said Raj.

Addison considered the obstacle. “The Spanish knights would have weighed a lot in their armor. The Incans probably used this to their advantage.” He shifted the coil of vines from his right shoulder to his left and turned to the group. “We cross the bridge one at a time. That way there's not too much weight on it all at once.”

One by one, each stepped gingerly across, hardly daring to breathe. The wood planks creaked and groaned their complaint. At last the team was safely on the other side.

“If Ragar gets the gold, how is he going to get it across this bridge?” asked Eddie.

Addison took another look at the chasm below. “Very carefully.”

The team continued, winding their way up the narrow tunnel. The granite walls were slippery and glistening with humidity. Before long, the chute widened into a large cavern.

Raj froze, pointing to a vast mosaic of painted tiles carved into the stone floor. He raised his flickering torch to reveal the pattern. “A dragon!”

“Pachamama, the mother of the world,” said Addison. “She's an Incan goddess who takes the form of a dragon.” He admired the jagged teeth and the green, yellow, and purple scales of the wings. It was too dark for him to make a sketch. “Pachamama has a special power, but I can't remember what it is.”

“Can she breathe fire?” asked Raj. “Or make lightning?”

“Invisibility?” asked Eddie.

“I can't remember.” Addison scratched his chin in thought. “I just remember it was dangerous.”

Eddie took a step forward.

Addison snapped his fingers together. “Wait—Eddie, don't step on the mosaic!”

“Why not?” Eddie asked, stepping onto the mosaic. His weight was already planted firmly on a stone tile when it sunk an inch into the ground. His heart sunk with it. He froze, realizing he had just triggered another booby trap.

A deep rumbling from the cave walls shook the cavern. Eddie didn't know what was coming, but he was fairly certain he wasn't going to enjoy it.

“I just remembered Pachamama's power,” called Addison. “She causes earthquakes!”

Eddie didn't need time to mull things over. He turned and bolted.

A massive boulder plummeted from the ceiling and crushed the tile where Eddie had been standing.

Eddie sprung from tile to tile, bouncing like an Irish step-dancer. Wherever he leapt, boulders followed, raining from the ceiling.

“Eddie, stop stepping on those tiles!” Addison yelled.

Deadly boulders crashing around him, Eddie hopped in frantic circles like a frog in a frying pan. “Where do I step?” Eddie flapped his arms, as if willing himself to remain airborne.

Addison threw down his bundle of climbing vines and sprinted for Eddie, grabbing him by the collar. Fists pumping and feet flying, he half led and half dragged Eddie across the cavern and dove into the opposite tunnel. The sound of crashing boulders ceased. For a minute, Addison and Eddie lay on the ground gasping for breath.

“The Incas didn't want conquistadors stealing the gold, so they built that rickety bridge,” said Addison, climbing to his feet and dusting off his jacket. “They wanted only devout Incans to find the treasure, so they built a trap for anyone who doesn't know about Pachamama.”

“I stepped on Pachamama and disrespected their god,” said Eddie. “Sorry I nearly got you killed.”

“I should have spotted it sooner,” said Addison. “My aunt and uncle must have led Ragar's men around the edge of the wall to avoid the trap. We'll have to be more alert now.”

Molly and Raj carefully inched their way around the perimeter of the mosaic and safely joined Addison and Eddie in the low tunnel.

“I wonder what trap is coming next?” Raj said a little too eagerly.

“I'm dying to find out,” Eddie said sarcastically.

“Poor choice of words,” said Molly.

Raj stepped to the front of the group. “I'll take point position.”

“Okay, everyone follow Raj like a line of ducklings,” Addison instructed the others. “And nobody touch anything!”

Peering into the gloom with his torch, Raj carefully probed and tapped the surrounding rocks with his stick. Step by step, he carefully led the group along the passageway. At last, the narrow path opened up into a high-ceilinged chamber.

A great chasm spread wide before them. The sheer drop descended into the darkness, its depth impossible to fathom.

“It must go all the way to the heart of the mountain,” said Eddie in an awed whisper.

“I have very little interest in finding out,” said Addison. He examined the path ahead and grimaced. The only way to cross the chasm was by hopping across scattered stalagmites that grew up like stepping-stones. The stone spikes were so massive, a person could balance on them
if they were careful and not overly concerned with personal safety.

“What are the Incas testing for here?” asked Molly. “Balance?”

“Bravery,” said Raj. “Supay's mouth opens wide to swallow up the brave.”

“I'll bet he swallows cowards, too,” said Molly.

“Great,” said Eddie, staring into the bottomless chasm and shivering.

Raj tossed a pebble into the crevasse. Everyone listened. If the pebble ever landed, nobody heard it.

“Addison, are you going to be okay with this?” asked Molly.

“Well, I can't really see how high up we are in the darkness. So that helps.”

Raj took the lead, followed by Molly, followed by Addison. Eddie brought up the rear.

Addison hopped to the first stalagmite, and then the second. On the third, he almost lost his balance, overshooting his mark in the dim light of Raj's torch. His feet scrambled for purchase, but he held on. He made it to the next stone spike, and then the next.

It was on the sixth stalagmite that things went horribly awry.

Addison took a powerful leap and stuck the landing, even in his slippery dress shoes. But the stone decided,
after millions of years of just staying put, that it was time for a change. The ancient rock cracked and tipped forward like a falling tree. Addison felt his world plummeting.

Addison's rock smashed, domino-style, into Molly's, which crumbled and crashed into Raj's. For a few heartrending seconds, all three clung to their stalagmites, suspended in space, their feet dangling over the void.

Somehow, Raj still clung to his torch. He wrapped his legs around the enormous stone spike and squeezed tight.

Addison waited for his rock to collapse, sending him careening into the darkness. But for the time being, the great stone held. He dug his fingers into the crumbling rock and gripped it with all his strength. “Eddie, do something!”

Eddie stood on his stepping-stone and gaped. Alone, his was the only rock that held strong. He watched his friends clinging for dear life. “Like what?”

“My ropes!” cried Addison. “They're still in the earthquake room!”

“I can't go back there! I'll die!” yelled Eddie.

“We're dying right now!” Molly shouted.

“She's right,” gasped Addison, gulping down his fear. Already his hands were growing sweaty and his grip was loosening on the rock. “You've got to go, Eddie!”

Eddie swallowed hard. “All right. But there better be a ton of gold in that treasure vault.”

“There will be seven hundred and fifty tons! Just hurry!”

Eddie turned and retraced his steps across the jagged stones. He sprinted back down the dark tunnel and reached the destruction of Pachamama's chamber. Broken rocks lay scattered across the mosaic.

Eddie tiptoed around the perimeter of the room, his back hugging the wall. In the dark, he tripped over a stone that clattered onto the booby-trapped tiles of the mosaic. Eddie held his breath, but the stone was not heavy enough to trigger the avalanche. He wiped sweat from his forehead and kept moving.

At last, Eddie inched to the far end of the chamber and yanked Addison's vines from under a fallen boulder. “Okay,” Eddie whispered to himself, staring back across the mosaic. “Now I just have to do this all over again.”