Page 225 of Empire of Shadows

“Youwhat?” Ellie burst out.

Adam tugged her back into the antechamber. “I didn’tknowI was opening any doors,” he complained lowly.

“How do you open a door without knowing about it?” Ellie shot back in a whisper.

“All I did was push a button! You know—kind of like how you just turned on the waterworks?” he added defensively as he jabbed a finger toward the water that still trickled from the pipe in the wall.

Ellie pressed her fingers to her temple.

“Perhaps we should both refrain from more button-pushing for now,” she concluded tensely. “We need to focus on exactly what our options are.”

“We’ve gotta be directly under the pyramid,” Adam concluded.

“How can you be certain of that?” she pressed.

He led her back over to the exit, careful to keep both of their bodies in the shadows. He pointed at the nearer wall of the cavern.

“See that? The stone’s a different color at the back of this chamber,” he whispered.

Ellie realized that he was right. Though that part of the cave was still fairly shadowy, she could tell that the wall was a much darker gray. What was more, the stone there was free of rock formations even though Ellie could see water actively pouring down its surface.

There was rather a lot of water, she realized.

“The waterfall behind the pyramid!” she exclaimed quietly. “That’s why we couldn’t see where it went. It’s filtering down into the cave system.”

A stream flowed from the base of the wall. It was broad, shallow, and perfectly clear. Where it passed near their hiding place, Ellie could pick out each tiny stone under the surface with perfect clarity.

“We must be at the edge of the karst,” Ellie mused. “Those mountains would be a harder sedimentary rock, not limestone. The water wouldn’t penetrate through them the same way. That means this is where the caves must end.”

“We’ve got bigger problems than geology,” Adam muttered. He gently turned her shoulders to direct her attention to the other end of the cavern, where Dawson’s voice echoed stridently against the dripping stalagmites.

“Make sure you’ve measured that correctly!” he ordered petulantly. “We can’t risk lifting the artifact and discovering it won’t fit.”

Boots scraped against stone. A whiff of freshly cut wood drifted toward her as the cave clattered with the sound of hammering.

Adam held up a warning hand, signaling for Ellie to wait as he crept forward. She peered over his shoulder as he risked a better look beyond their hiding place.

The rest of the cavern came into view. It was breathtaking. The space soared overhead, iced with dripping white stalactites. More rock formations covered the ground at the edges of the cavern, but the center of the space had been deliberately cleared and leveled save for the remains of a single enormous stalagmite, which sat in the very center of it all.

The stone had been cut off about two feet from the floor, forming a level platform like the one which had held the copper knife back in the room of monstrous bats. This, too, appeared to serve as an altar for a sacred object.

Ellie could just make out a glimpse of what lay there from where she hovered behind Adam’s elbow.

In the gentle hollow carved from the remains of the broken pillar lay a striking glimmer of black stone so flawless that it almost looked like a pool.

It had to be the Smoking Mirror.

The artifact was big. Even though Ellie’s angle kept her from seeing it in its entirety, she could deduce that much based on the size of the sturdy crate that Charlie, Lessard, and Pacheco were in the process of constructing on the floor of the cave beside the altar.

The sight of it sparked a wave of fury. Here were Dawson and Jacobs, secure and self-satisfied in their victory as they prepared to pack up their prize and carry it off—and to hell with whatever damage they had done in the process.

It made Ellie want to kick something.

She held back. Besides Charlie and the small company of builders, there were five of Jacobs’ armed guards, each of them with their rifles ready. Ellie recognized Buller and Price. Pickett’s bulging eyes were fixed on one of the stalactites overhead as though he were puzzling over how it worked.

Staines stood nearer by. Adam’s guard looked a bit worse for wear. His cheek was darkened by the rash of an abrasion and the sleeve of his shirt was muddied and torn. He was carrying Adam’s Winchester. He handled the weight of it gingerly as though his arm was sore.

Flowers was there as well. His posture was relaxed as he seemingly oversaw the men constructing the crate.

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