The following day, they found the key.
Two workers literally stumbled over the stone monolith where it lay mostly buried in the packed soil. Everyone assumed it was just another wall, at first, and subsequently ignored it until Sydney spied the hieroglypic symbols that marched over its surface.
Shouting for Nigel to join her, they scrambled into the pit, excitement building with each hurried step. Nigel was cautious now, not so ready to share his translations with their host. Until they were certain of Van Loo's agenda, he and Sydney would keep anything critical to themselves.
And when they discovered the still-sealed compartment, barely perceptible on the smooth marble wall, their exchanged glance was all they needed to communicate the need to keep it to themselves.
Nigel reluctantly agreed to return to Van Loo's tent that evening, though he couldn't entirely hide his aversion to the idea. He got the sense that he was some sort of snack food for the big man. But the Angel Sword was in Van Loo's tent.
Listening for the other man's snores, Nigel collected the blade and crept into the night, making a rendezvous with Sydney, sidling up alongside her. She was already studying the small anomaly that alerted them of a hiding place. She shook her head in fear, and for a moment Nigel thought he'd been followed. It took a few moments for him to realize that he had automatically collected the sword without any protection.
He sucked in a breath, understanding that he was almost certainly doomed to die. He closed his eyes, appreciating the absurdity of the thought. Poised on the cusp of the most important archaeological discovery of all time, he was going to die before anyone knew. He was probably going to die long before Sydney reached Eden.
There was no doubt in his mind that his friend would accomplish her goal. Sydney always, always achieved what she set out to do.
He glanced around and found a ragged shirt, probably the property of one of the departed workers. Wrapping it around the precious relic, he wordlessly handed the bundle to Sydney. She understood the implication and was already grieving for him.
Figuring he was already dying, he gently pushed her aside so that he could open the cache. His eyes skimmed over the deeply etched pictures, his mind translating quickly and efficiently. Finally he found the appropriate pattern and depressed a series of seven spots. It never occurred to them that opening the small compartment might open a whole different sort of Pandora's box.
Brilliant light sprang up from behind the small stone door, a light that spread and speared through the darkness. First bright white, then flashing brilliant color, the normal light changed, forming concentric, glowing rings around them, a hovering rainbow of illumination that surrounded them and swallowed them up.
They could see Van Loo's angry figure hurtling toward them, but the advancing enemy was stopped cold at the outer layer of light.
The circle continued to change; now it was flames, cool fire that did no harm, a blaze that licked at flesh and clothing without igniting them. And a moment later, the flickering light resolved itself further into beings. Huge beings, powerful men in loose clothing who formed a protective circle around Sydney and Nigel. Van Loo let out an enraged bellow, but Sydney realized that her feet were no longer on the ground. In fact, she could no longer see the ground at all! Nigel gasped, because as they rose, they could see their guardians' magnificent wings moving in precise time.
A stone disk rose to meet their feet, providing the two human passengers the emotional security of something to stand on. "The wheel within a wheel," whispered Nigel in awed reverence.
Equally stunned, Sydney nodded. "He shall give his angels charge over thee," she quoted back, too shaken to care if she was making sense or not.
Moments later, they were lowered to the ground and the guard turned to face inward. The angels' wings disappeared into the folds of their clothing. Sydney held out the sword to the largest of the messengers. She noticed that blisters were already forming on her companion's face, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. Please, God, let us return this in time, she prayed silently.
Instead of accepting the proffered weapon, the archangel smiled sadly and shook his head. The transfigured creature picked up Nigel like he was an infant and carried him into a thick copse of dark trees. Sydney ran after, breathlessly struggling to keep up with a stride that seemed interminably slow for the regal being.
The oppressive heat didn't dissipate when the sun went down, and the combination of heat and worry and the added burden of the heavy sword challenged Sydney's stamina. Determination drove her onward despite her body's protests. "Nigel!" she yelled.
"Bring him back!" she ordered, forcing authority into her voice, knowing that in this, she was hopelessly outclassed.
The angel's wings unfolded and within seconds he was airbound, carrying her companion with him.
Sydney scrambled along over the ground, falling more than once, until she could no longer see the subject of her pursuit. Frustration and grief overwhelmed her and she dropped to her knees. It was the first time she realized that her body was bruised and battered from the blind dash through the woods.
Angrily, she dashed tears from her cheeks and pushed herself back up, forcing herself to follow in the direction she'd seen her partner disappear. She owed him that. She didn't want to tell Nigel's brother, the only surviving family member, that she'd abandoned the search for Nigel because it was too hard.
She brushed recalcitrant strands of hair from her eyes, and realized that blisters had now formed on her forehead. A sad smile spread over her face, a quiet resignation.
So she would die, too.
It was almost a moment of redemption, knowing that she would share the fate of her young assistant.
But silent, strong arms swept her up where her own strength failed, and she caught a glimpse of powerful wings beating against the moonlight as they sailed above the treetops. "Nigel...?" she asked softly.
A reply resonated through her, words spoken without breath, a voice that rendered physical law obsolete. "Your friend's body has died." The compassion embraced her as she began to weep against the perfect strength. "It was unavoidable."
"No, it wasn't," she grieved. "I could have left him home. I should never have brought him along." She lifted her face to view the being who carried her so effortlessly.
The angel's face, though devoid of beard and utterly ageless, was unmistakably masculine. Every inch of his form was luminescent. It wasn't a reflection of moonlight, it was a glow that came from the unearthly creature. And his eyes glowed most of all. They were eerie and comforting, all at once, and drew her like a magnet. His eyes were midnight blue, almost violet in their depths.
"Nigel chose to come. You need no absolution for the choices made by another."
She sniffed, "But he came because of me."
"He came because it was his destiny, just as it is yours. His death is only sad because you don't understand it. Death is a necessary part of life. Besides, no living man or woman can enter Eden." The angel's voice was a musical baritone, almost operatic in the richness of tones that sounded both on the air and in Sydney's ears and heart. She could literally feel the words running through her, their meaning melding into every cell.
Wings carried them over the treetops, creating a breeze that whispered against Sydney's skin. She felt herself growing progressively weaker, and she unconsciously leaned into the strength of her remarkable protector. Blisters now covered her from head to toe, but the heavenly being still gently declined her requests to take the sword from her, even when pain and fever seized her and she began to beg for him to end her life with the weapon.
The moon gilded every leaf, turning their surroundings magical. Were it not for the convulsions that wracked her body, Sydney might have wondered if she had found heaven. Even the air now seemed cooler with each gasp of breath that fought through her lungs and throat. In fact, she began to shiver as the night grew chilly.
Was it her imagination, or had the moon become brighter? Or maybe it was the glow that emanated from the messenger who cradled her in infallible arms.
No...
Sydney realized they had angled downward, back to earth. Weak or not, her innate curiosity demanded that she turn her head.
Spread below them, bathed in the light of an untimely dawn, Sydney could see a perfect wilderness, a paradise of ancient trees and heavy flowers too lush to be bereft of water, even here in the midst of desert. A crystal stream meandered through a pale green meadow. Here and there, houses were built to inhuman specifications, stone cut into sculptural masterpieces that defied all man's understanding about engineering and yet fit unobtrusively against the ageless, flawless landscape.
Sydney's parched lips quirked into a halfhearted smile. "Are we there yet?" she wheezed, wondering if her mother could see her now. If there was a heaven, surely her sweet mom was there.
"No child, though we are close."
Something about the angel's enigmatic voice captured Sydney's attention enough that she looked up. Her protector's handsome face was wreathed in smiles. He was homesick, she realized with a start.