Chapter 12

Juliet looked down at the enigmatic words before her. The first stage of the translation was complete, for the runes on the box anyway. She'd even managed to translate some of the words and phrases into English. It was amazing how quickly one could get through the most tedious of tasks when one is determined not to let the only other person in the room distract them. Even if he didn't know he was doing it. The only problem now was that she was as completely finished as she could be with the runic translation. Cal, working steadily through the coded runes from the tablet, looked like he still had a way to go.

She had double checked the script translation. Twice. She had translated as much of the text itself as she was sure of. She had thumbed through every book Cal was unlikely to ask for. Flicking through one of the less useful tomes, her eye had caught familiar symbols and she made a mental note to borrow the book later for use on deciphering the parchment. The parchment characters were some kind of abjad, suggesting a Semitic, or Proto-Semitic language, and too cursive and flowing for the wedge-dependent Cuneiform or almost runic Phoenician. They were not flowing enough, or elaborate enough, for Arabic and there were too many loops for Hebrew and most others of that ilk. It reminded her of the script they had found on the piece of the ring they found on Elm Island, but it didn't quite match. Cal would probably take one look at it, now they had it back here in good lighting with all the tricks of the trade available to tease more than the top of the scroll open, and declare with absolute certainty what the script was, but Juliet's innate curiosity was prodding her to find out if she could at least identify, if not decipher, the script herself. The article that had caught her eye dragged it onwards, reading now, rather than simply skimming. Warning bells tinkled in the back of her brain, telling her that any work she did on the parchment here, even without the relic itself, risked letting Cal know she had looked at the scroll without him, which in turn risked yet another fight at least some part of her did not want to have. Unfortunately, warning bells in the mind of a curious person are often as effective as a triangle in a brass band.

"What's that?" Cal's voice rumbled across the table like the distant thunder that heralded a storm. If he had been looking up, by the time Juliet looked round his head had dropped to his work again. "That book doesn't have anything on Northern European languages and writings, it's all about…"

Juliet turned her gaze back to the book. She could almost hear the penny drop.

"You looked at it without me, didn't you," accused Cal, sitting up and glaring the length of the table.

Juliet didn't need to, or want to, turn and face that stare. "I just thought it might be useful background. I'm done translating the runes and this is interesting."

"Well pardon me for being thorough!" Cal snapped back, sinking back to his work.

"Oh, come on: we both know there was more work involved with translating the tablet!" Juliet scoffed, dropping the book and looking over. "Besides: you lot all disappeared of to Alaska, and elsewhere before that too. What did you expect? That I wouldn't even take a peek? What else was I going to do?"

"Finish your doctorate! Isn't that why Professor Zond gave you the last four months off anyway?" Cal sat up and flung out an arm towards the door. "What if you'd damaged it? Even the most careful handling can cause irreparable harm to something that old! Did you at least record your little 'peek'?"

"That took all of six weeks once you all left me here alone! Do you have any idea how much work we put in on a normal day compared to what the average PhD student does?"

"Not really, no!"

"Don't you dare pull the boy genius line now!"

"Hey! You asked…"

"What the heck is going on here?" Professor Zond's voice cut across the argument, silencing it. When no answer was forthcoming, Solomon folded his arms and looked from one doctor to the other. "I said, what is going on in here? We could hear you in Maggie's lab!"

Clearly the analytical laboratory that was most often Maggie's domain hadn't been the only place their voices had reached. Juliet sighed and looked away as Nikko and Vincent appeared behind Solomon and Maggie.

"Okay, here's what going to happen," Solomon dictated, placing both hands firmly on the table between the two. "First, Calvin, you are going to tell me how the translations I asked you two to work on are progressing. Then, when that's dealt with, Juliet, you are going to tell me what exactly you took a 'peek' at without Calvin or, for that matter, any of the rest of us!"

Juliet could feel Cal's eyes boring into the back of her head, but she didn't dare look round and meet them. What would happen if she did? It's not like the whole world would implode and everything and everyone be snuffed out of existence. All she had to do was turn round. Turn round and acknowledge the group of people closer to her than her own flesh and blood, not that that was hard these days. Acknowledge that she had wanted something of her own, a discovery of her own, from that month of turmoil and confusion in Syria. Something to remind herself that there had been more happening during that trip than the memories that crowded at the forefront of her mind. Memories she was sure would be written in the air between them if she turned and met his eyes. Juliet listened to Cal update the professor in his most concise, professional manner and sighed, the air leaving her like the last breath of a dying man. Her shoulders sagged. Solomon called her name. She half turned in her chair, careful to look straight at the professor and not in any way at Cal.

"One of the artefacts we brought back from Syria," she began, "one of the ones we haven't shown you yet, was a scroll of parchment. I wanted to see if I could ID the script on my own – just to challenge myself - so I started copying the first part of the text. I've barely looked at it, just the bit that we unrolled ourselves in Syria, but couldn't read because of the light,"

"Okay," said Solomon, nodding and rising from the desk. "But why keep it to yourself? Why not tell Cal? You could have opened the scroll together then each worked on your own translations if you were that set on challenging yourself. For that matter, why not tell any of the rest of us? The scroll was your find, but the two of you were still part of a group expedition. It needs to be inventoried, just like the rest of the finds from that trip, and catalogued."

"I took photos, both in Syria and here," protested Juliet, "and I only opened the scroll as far as it had already been opened. You were away. There was no point in telling you: you couldn't have done anything. I took all the proper precautions and kept the records for it up to date."

"And what have you found out so far?" Solomon enquired, the patience beginning to return to his voice.

"I thought it looked similar to the text we found on the tablet from Elm Island, so I got a copy of the text out of the archives to check…"

"So that's what you were doing there," murmured Cal.

"It was similar," Juliet continued, ignoring the comment, "but not quite right. I've been looking through various Semitic and Proto-Semitic scripts for something that matches."

"And that's what you found in the book," murmured Cal, a little louder this time.

Solomon cast a glance at his best linguist then returned to Juliet. It was understandable that she might want to step out of Cal's shadow for once. He had years more experience dealing with this field that Juliet did, but she was catching up on him fast. He nodded at the book in Juliet's hands. "What did you find?"

Juliet opened the book to the pages she had been studying and turned it to face the group. "It's an article on Petra, and some of the artefacts found there. The picture of a papyrus, in the bottom right corner, is just a trade contract but the script is the closest match I've found."

"Nabatean?" Cal asked, now paying full attention.

Juliet nodded, risking a miniscule glance in his direction.

"What would a Nabatean text, on parchment, not papyrus, be doing in the catacombs of a ruined church in Syria?" Maggie wondered aloud.

"The Crusaders ruled Petra once," nodded Solomon. "Baldwin the first, I think. There's at least two Crusader-era castles there. I guess it's conceivable that a papyrus was copied onto parchment and sent north. I can't see it being just another trade contract, though."

"I guess it depends what they were trading," quipped Nikko from the doorway.

"Well, who knows. I guess we'll just have to translate it and find out," sighed Professor Zond. "Okay, well, once you're done with the Alaskan tablet – and I mean completely done – if nothing else presents itself I want you two working on the Syrian scroll. Together. Peacefully if possible."

XXXX

6 ½ Months ago – five days after the fall

Juliet's mind was turning somersaults. She barely noticed the intricate and ancient artwork around her as she hurried back through the tunnels. She certainly paid no heed to where her feet were taking her. Away was the only direction. Away from the room of golden light and silver stars. Away from Cal. Away from the confusion racing through her thoughts and tearing them into an argument of epic proportions. It wasn't like she had been seeing Anthony long. Just over a month now, and more than half of that had been spent on this expedition. She could easily tell him she didn't want to see him any more. Not from here, through. Not via text or phone call. Certainly not via video call: Professor Zond had been quite clear about the importance of secrecy on any expedition Dorna might have an interest in. Not that he'd really needed to say it!

Her thoughts ran back to Cal. She had thought it was a crush. A momentary infatuation brought on by a moment that might have been stolen from a Hallmark movie. If it was, it now seemed it clearly went both ways. Maybe it was just the surroundings. Maybe they just got caught up in a magical moment surrounded by shimmering light and stars they were the first two people to see in who knows how many centuries. It's not like they weren't romantic enough! She hadn't expected him to kiss her but somehow, in that ethereal room deep underground, it hadn't been a surprise. The shock she was feeling was not at his reaction, but her own. She could have, should have, stepped back at that first, tentative, touch of lips. Instead she had caught him as he drew back and returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her and tangling her hands in his shirt and hair. She didn't know how long that second, deeper kiss had lasted. Time hadn't been remotely on her mind. When a stray stone underfoot had caused her to stumble, tearing them apart, something had brought Anthony back into her mind. Whatever she felt for Cal, and whatever he felt for her, would have to wait for now, however difficult that might be. At least until she could end things with Anthony.

A noise reverberating through the tunnels brought Juliet to a sudden stop. She looked around her, paying attention to her surroundings for the first time since her flight from the golden room and from Cal. She didn't recognise the walls. With dawning horror, she realised she had no idea where she was, nor how much time had passed since leaving Cal. Reasoning that the noise must come from some machinery on the surface, and the loudest point would be at the cave-in, she headed onwards, towards the sound. The twists and turns in the tunnel made her doubt her choice, but she had no other option if she wanted to get back to their camp site. Doubling back, losing that guidance of the rumbling drone, trying to retrace her steps through corridors she could barely remember, would surely take her even further from her goal and further entrapped in the labyrinth. A junction loomed out of the darkness before her. Were these walls familiar? Maybe? Juliet turned this way and that, listening to the constant noise. Which tunnel would take her back to camp? She moved a few paces down one corridor, then the other. Neither seemed louder. A hand fell on her shoulder and Juliet spun round, out of the newcomer's grasp.

Cal held up his hands. "It's me," he soothed. "Just me. Come on: I grabbed what I could."

"Is it Professor Zond?" Juliet frowned, taking the pack he handed her. "No, it can't be…"

"Not the professor. Not the others. Not the authorities either," reported Cal, grabbing Juliet's hand and dragging her after him. "I was back at camp when the helicopter first showed up. Definitely Dorna. I did what I could to make the camp look abandoned, but I didn't have time to take the tent down, so we're sharing from here on out. Hopefully, they'll think we're long gone."

"Where are we going?" Juliet demanded, hurrying to keep up with Cal.

"Somewhere I found yesterday. Somewhere I hope they won't be able to spot."

They turned another corner and came to an abrupt stop. It was another vaulted chamber, but any gold that had once adorned its walls was now long gone. A fresco on the opposite wall still seemed bright and untouched. It shows Templars kneeling, two by two, before a shrine. Cal led Juliet over and pointed to the Latin above the shrine.

"It's a line from one of the psalms, I think. 'Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge.' And look here." Cal pointed at the ornate casket pictured in the midst of the shrine, directly below the words, then at the figure on the far side of it. "That figure isn't a Templar, he's dressed as you might expect someone local to the area. The hair and the beard too: it's what you might expect locally, but it's also how one of the most contemporary depictions of Saint Paul shows him. And he's standing, not kneeling like the knights, and pointing at the centre of the shrine. Look closely: what do you see?"

"Cal, do we really have time for this?" Juliet cast a glance up at him then swiftly turned back to the fresco before their eyes could meet. "Dorna could come charging round one of these corners any minute."

"We'd hear them first," Cal replied. He turned Juliet's face towards him and waited for her stubborn eyes to find his. "Trust me. Look at the casket."

With a flutter of a frown and a sigh, Juliet turned back once more to the painting and studied the centrepiece of the shrine. The slight line between her brows deepened. "There's a crack, all the way round."

"Press it," directed Cal.

"Do you know what will happen if I do?" Juliet enquired, her patience drawing thin.

"No, but there's a quote about refuge right above it and the saint this place was probably dedicated to is pointing at it, so I'm guessing nothing terrible."

Juliet sighed again at the shaky logic and considered her options. She pressed the casket. Somewhere behind the wall there was a click and not one but two panels slid open. One was twice as wide as the other.

Juliet looked round to Cal. "Not terrible, I'll grant you, but I'm not going first."

"Enter by the 'narrow door', isn't it?" Cal murmured, stooping to step through the smaller of the two openings. "Still alive. Come on."

Juliet followed through the narrow door, turning on the spot when the door slid closed behind her. "I swear, Cal, if you've just got us locked in some ancient Templar priest hole…"

"Not a priest hole," he replied, and Juliet could hear the grin before she saw it. "Look."

As Cal had moved into the narrow room behind the door, another door had opened up, just as the one behind Juliet had closed. She followed him into the room beyond, this time ignoring the door that slid shut behind her. Though centuries old, the room they now looked upon had been untouched for almost as long. A fine layer of dust lay on the diamond shaped shelves, all stacked half full of crumbling scrolls, that ranged from wall to wall. One wall alone was free of scrolls. It was the wall through which they had entered. At the far end from the door was a desk, with writing materials and candles lying ready. In between stood a cabinet of solid dark wood, stretching all the way from the floor to the albeit low ceiling. It was clear that the cabinet could open. How, exactly, it did so was less clear.