Chac's Fury

by Geremy Carnes

Lara fights artifact smugglers for possession of a powerful, devastating ritual.

1. Part I

Chac's Fury

By Geremy Carnes

geremyc@angelfire.com

Lara Croft and Tomb Raider are the property of Core Design and EIDOS Interactive.  This is an unsanctioned work of fiction and is not a challenge to these copyrights.

This story contains violence, adult language, and other material that may be considered offensive.  If you find this objectionable, please read no further.

Part I

            The force of the blow split the Mayan's lip and caused him to stagger backward.  The Native American's pride was too great for him to let even a slight groan pass through his lips, but his bruised body sagged in pain.  His hands were bound so tightly that his wrists were bleeding, and his naked body bore the markings of a brutal beating.

            The Mayan's assailant strode over to him.  This man had the black hair, flattened forehead, and prominent nose that marked him as a Mayan as well, but he was garbed in a bright ceremonial costume.  Although only one hundred and sixty-five centimeters tall, he exuded a commanding presence felt by the three dozen men and women that were watching the unfolding drama.

            The costume clad Mayan stared down at the shattered man, who was doubled over in pain.  He waited for him to look up.  Their eyes locked.

            "Your obstinacy will be your death, my brother," the assailant murmured quietly in Chol, their native language.  Despite the sinister nature of the words, he spoke them in a neutral voice, maintaining a perfectly calm countenance.  "If you can not or will not tell me where the codex is, then you are useless to me.  I give you one last chance.  Tell me where to find the codex, or I will sacrifice you to the greatest of gods, Kinich Ahau.  For your transgressions, I am sure that he will be merciless to your soul."

            The men and women observing this one-sided conversation watched with rapt attention.  None of them understood a word of Chol, but they could guess what was being said.  So much depended on this.  They barely breathed as they waited for the battered man's response.

            Amazingly, the Native American slowly stood up straight, his eyes never leaving the other man's.  Even through his pain, his dignity shined.  He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.  He opened his bleeding mouth... and spit on his attacker's face.

            The audience of the confrontation let out a collective breath and began grumbling amongst themselves.  One man in particular, tall, with a handsome face, and brown hair neatly parted on the right side, seemed particularly angry.  He called loudly to the costumed Mayan, "Well, Uaxahpu, now what do we do?"

            Uaxahpu wiped the bloody saliva from his face.  Speaking in English now, he replied, "Now I perform the sacrifice to Kinich Ahau.  Then we will discuss future plans, Alex."  Turning back to the Mayan and reverting to Chol, he said, "You are brave but foolish.  You have gone against the will of a god, and for that you will spend eternity in suffering."  He shoved the unresisting man toward a coffin-sized wooden crate that lay on the grimy warehouse floor.  Indeed, the crate would soon become a coffin.  He forced the Mayan to lie down on the crate.  There was no need to have someone hold him down.  He would not struggle.  He would die a dignified death.

            Uaxahpu began chanting and went through several ceremonial gestures.  The onlookers, now impatient instead of expectant, began to disperse throughout the warehouse, resuming their jobs of moving crates and keeping records.  They performed their duties purposely and efficiently, knowing that in their line of work, laziness and incompetence would cause you to spend the rest of your life in prison.  Or get you killed.

            Uaxahpu finished his rituals.  Pulling a knife from his belt, he said, "Kinich Ahau, I send you this soul as a testimony of your greatness.  Receive it, and be glorified!"  He raised the knife until it pointed straight up into the air.  The blade glinted in the lights of the warehouse.  Then he brought it down and plunged it straight into the man's heart.

            The blood spurted for a few moments, but when the heart ceased pumping, the flow of blood slackened.  Uaxahpu pulled the knife from his fellow Mayan's chest and wiped it on his robes.  He looked up to see a couple people still watching. "Put his body in this crate and then dispose of it," he ordered them.  They moved quickly to do as he said.  Uaxahpu turned and started toward Alex, who was leaning against a stack of smaller crates.

            "I'm growing impatient with you, Uaxahpu," Alex said angrily.  The stony-faced Mayan stopped in front of him and stood quietly, listening to his complaints.  There was nothing he hated more than having to deal with this scoundrel of a man.  But he would do whatever was necessary to complete his task.  "We have wasted four months trying to find this supposed lost city of yours.  We've tortured nearly a dozen of your Indian friends, and not one has given us a shred of information.  I want results now."

            Uaxahpu replied calmly.  "Kinich Ahau is restless and has chosen me to aid him in his struggle.  I assure you, we will soon find the temple.  But first we must find the codex.  Without it, there is no reason to go to the lost city of Cholenque."

            "You mean no reason for you to go to Cholenque.  All I want are the artifacts from the temple."

            "But you will never find the city without my help, and I will not help you until I have the codex.  That was the deal."

            "Yes, that was the deal.  But I am in the business of making money, and we've wasted a large amount of it on this search.  I think it may be time for me to cut my losses and move on."

            Uaxahpu's calm demeanor cracked.  "You cannot back out now!" he shouted frantically.  "We are close!  I can feel it!  We will find the codex soon, Alex.  I promise you."

            Alex considered it for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line.  Finally he replied, "Very well, Uaxahpu.  We'll wait one more week.  If you can't produce the codex in that time, then we will absolve our partnership."  As he started to walk away, he called back over his shoulder, "And when I absolve a partnership, Uaxahpu, I make sure that my ex-partner can never bother me again.  Ever."  With that final threat, he strode off to help some men loading equipment into a helicopter parked inside the huge doors of the Guatemalan warehouse.

            Uaxahpu glared at his back.  He hated that man, who used the ancient grandeur of his people to gain wealth, so he could buy expensive haircuts and wear tailored clothes.  Yes, he thought, soon we will find the codex and the city of Cholenque, and you can loot it and steal as many artifacts as you like.  But you won't enjoy your wealth for long.  You, like all the other oppressors of my people, will pay.  As he watched Alex struggling to lift a heavy crate of explosives into the helicopter, he began to grin.  If any of Alex's men had seen that grin, it would have put the fear of God into him.

            Uaxahpu chuckled.  You will all pay with your lives.

                                                            *            *            *

            The early summer sun glared fiercely on the tropics of the Atlantic Ocean.  The heat caused great amounts of water to evaporate into the tropical air.  It also created air currents that began to sweep the moist air west.  As it traveled, the great masses of clouds began to rotate.  They swirled, and more and more clouds formed, adding to the monstrous air mass.  With the heat of the sun powering it, the great mass of moisture continued to grow—­and continued to pick up speed.  Meteorologists across the globe lost sleep as they watched the storm and made course predictions.  The storm was spinning faster and faster, and it was heading for the Caribbean.

                                                            *            *            *

            First months of drought, and now a tropical storm headed our way.  Even the weather is against us.  Why can't—

            "Mason, come look at this!" a woman called excitedly.  Orville Mason looked up from the weather reports he was frowning over to see Jennie Goldsmith, his dig supervisor, waving at him from the hilltop and pointing at something at her feet.  She's practically jumping up down, Mason thought, shocked.  Jennie was one of the quietest people he knew.  This I have got to see.

            Mason rose stiffly from the rock he had been sitting on, hearing half of the joints in his body snap, creak, or pop.  You know your old when you stand up and people around you think that someone is stomping on bubble wrap, he thought grimly.  Trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles in the clothes that he was wearing for the third day in a row, he walked quickly toward the small rise where Jennie and some of the other archaeologists were. His feet kicked up dust and crushed the dead brown grass that covered all of the surrounding fields, where only a few stunted crops grew.  The unrelenting sun had baked eastern Mexico for months, with almost no relief.  Looking up at the sky, he was unable to spot a single cloud.  The air itself seemed to have been cooked, the water wrung out of the sky.  Every time he inhaled his throat was coated with dust and his lungs burned with the dry air.

            His gaze fell to the horizon, and his thoughts turned to the great ruins of Coba only a few miles to the north.  He had visited them before coming to this dig and had been awed, as he always was when he was around such ancient wonders.  The Mayan ruins at Coba were over fifteen hundred years old, and yet their magnificence could still be felt today.  Massive temples for the worship of the multitude of Mayan gods dotted Mexico's Yucatan peninsula, but some of the oldest and greatest stood there.  And the very fact that many were still standing was testimony to the architectural advancement of the culture that had created them.

            Perhaps that is what people find most interesting about ancient societies, Mason mused as he approached Jennie.  Not the bizarre rituals or strange cultural practices, but the fact that they could create such huge and beautiful structures using only their own intellect and brute strength.  The Mayans had never learned to use the wheel, and they had no horses to pull their great stone blocks with.  They did all construction by hand.  And while building vast city-states, worshipping their gods, and fighting never-ending wars amongst themselves, they still managed to find the time to invent a highly advanced system of mathematics and the most accurate calendar used by man until Europe adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1582.

            After nearly twisting his ankle in a gopher hole, Mason reached the small cluster of people, sweating and winded.  I have to start exercising more, he told himself, knowing he wouldn't.  Around the group were the foundations of several small buildings.  They were the remains of a small town called Panichi, a 'suburb' of Coba, and they had just been discovered a few weeks ago.  Mason's team was in the process of uncovering them.  So far, they had found little of interest around the buildings besides a few Mayan tools and pottery shards.

            Mason had told the team yesterday that the British Museum of Anthropology, their main sponsor, was preparing to cut the excavation short due to lack of funds.  Tomorrow they would be packing up and heading home.  They had been disappointed, as had Mason.  He knew it was hard to fund a dig like this, but he had hoped that the museum could come up with the money somehow.  He had a feeling that, given just a little more time, they could find something worthwhile.  And an archaeologist always hated to leave a dig unfinished.  He had called Jeff Simons, who was one of the greatest fundraisers in the archaeological world.  He was a man known for being able to generate huge public interest over incredibly mundane archaeological finds, but even he couldn't make a few pieces of pottery into a front page story.  Mason had pretty much given up the hope of saving the expedition then.  But maybe they had finally found something worth sending back to England. 

            "Jennie, what is it that has you on the verge of wetting your pants?" he asked, teasing her.

            Jennie ignored him.  She was busy talking to the woman squatting next to her, Juanita Rodriguez, a local archaeologist.  Juanita's dark hair and darkly tanned skin contrasted with Jennie's blond hair and pale figure, but they had become good friends since Juanita had joined the excavation team.  Now they were staring at something at their feet, pointing and exclaiming.

            "What do you think, Juanita?" Jennie asked eagerly.  "Can you read any of the hieroglyphics?"

            "I can make out the symbols for a few of the gods, but I don't think this is a religious story.  There seem to be several symbols for war and battles.  I think it is an historical account."

            Mason was becoming interested, but he still couldn't see the subject of their discussion.

            "For Christ's sake, would you move over for a moment so I can see what all of this fuss is about?" he said, exasperated from them ignoring him.

            Finally noticing Mason, Jennie scooted back and waved her hand in front of her.  "Look at this!  Isn't it incredible?  Who would have thought that we would have found something this big in ruins that have gone unnoticed for so long?"  Jennie was so excited she was nearly incoherent.  The days she had been spending in the early summer sun had caused her freckles to stand out sharply.  She looks like a little girl who just got the doll she wanted for her birthday, Mason thought, amused.  Then he took a step forward and saw what everyone was staring at.  Then Mason nearly wet his own pants.  We might save this expedition just yet!

            The ground on this small hill had been dug down a few centimeters by the archeologists in search of the foundations of more buildings.  What they had uncovered instead was far more interesting.  An area about a meter square had been cleared away until the rock beneath it had been exposed.  But it wasn't just a rock.  Carved into the stone were hieroglyphics, the picture writing used by the Mayans.  And since the glyphs had been hidden from the elements for the last five hundred years, they were in almost perfect condition.

            "What is it?" Mason finally managed to ask.

            "Sam thinks it's a stele," Juanita answered.  Stelae were pillars of stone that were erected by the Mayans to record histories and legends on.

            Most of the archaeologists on this dig were really just college students earning extra credit by helping out their professors on this dig, but several were experienced.  Samuel Miller, an old friend of Mason's, was an archaeological veteran.  Mason had been pleased when he had joined the team.

            Mason turned to Sam now.  "If it's a stele, then why is it lying on the ground instead of standing up?"

            Sam shrugged.  "It must have toppled in an earthquake.

            Mason looked back at the small section of exposed stele.  "How big do you think it will be when we have uncovered the rest of it?"

            "I can't be sure, but I would guess it will be about two meters square and six meters high."

            Mason grinned.  This could bring some funds to their excavation.  The 'philanthropists' back in England were loath to give grants to small and relatively unimportant excavations like this one, but once they got wind that there had been a major find, the money would pour in, and the millionaires would all brag about how they were helping to advance the world's knowledge of history during their golf outings.  This piece of rock could be just the thing to grab the attention of the rich and famous.  That is, if there was anything interesting written on it.  If they couldn't read the glyphs, then it was nothing more than, well, a piece of rock.

            "All right everybody, listen up," Mason said loudly.  All heads turned towards him.  "We're going to milk this find for everything its worth.  Half of you continue excavating the building foundations.  The rest of you are going to dig this stone up.  Sam, you're in charge of the kids.  Don't let them damage this thing.  Juanita, I need you to find someone who can decipher Mayan glyphs.  I want to be able to tell the newspapers what this thing says.  If there is anything interesting on it, we could get a lot of grant money.  We have to hurry.  If we can't get a grant by tomorrow night, we all go home.  I'm going to call Jeff.   He'll want to know about this."  Jennie grimaced when she heard Jeff's name.  Mason didn't like Jeff either.  But Jeff knew how to excite the public over archaeological finds, and that was how you got money in this business.

            Sam took charge immediately.  He divided the students up and sent half of them back to digging up the foundations.  The other half started the painfully slow task of extracting the fallen stele from the earth.  To dig up an ancient artifact without damaging it was an art.  Sam was just such an artist, and under his calm supervision, the dig progressed steadily.

            Juanita looked worried after making a few calls on her satellite phone.  "There aren't any Mayan glyph experts available around here," she reported.  "They're all on that big expedition to the new ruins in Honduras.  It could be days before any of them get here."

            Mason swore.  "By that time we'll all be back in England.  No one will care what it says.  We have to know what's written on it in time for the morning news."  Mason knew that the public had a short attention span for things like this.  If they wanted to keep people interested, especially rich people, they needed to tell them what it said before the news of the discovery was buried under the latest crime spree or celebrity scandal.  Fund raising was a tricky business.  Sometimes Mason felt more like a politician than the head of a museum-sponsored excavation.

            "Are there any Mayan glyph experts at your museum in England who could fly down here?" Juanita asked.

            "Professor Carlton is one of the world's leading experts on hieroglyphics and he works for our museum," answered Jennie, "but he's on an expedition in the Himalayas.  We couldn't even contact him if we tried."

            Everyone was quiet for moment.  The thrill of their discovery had been dampened by the realization that the public would probably ignore it.

            Mason tried to cheer everyone up.  "Don't worry about it.  The stele is probably just an account of a few wars.  Just remember that we'll be adding a little more information to the history of the Mayans."  His words didn't seem to have much of an effect on his audience.

            "Did Professor Carlton have any students that he might have taught Mayan hieroglyphics to?" asked Juanita, grasping at straws.

            Mason started to shake his head, and then stopped.  He suddenly remembered that Professor Carlton had told him that he had once had a student that he had really enjoyed teaching.  Carlton had said that she was the brightest pupil he had ever had, and the most eager to learn.  Had he taught her to read Mayan glyphs as well?

            "Jennie, do you know if Carlton ever taught Lara Croft Mayan glyphs?" Mason asked eagerly.

            "Lara Croft?" Jennie said disgustedly.  "I didn't even know that she had attended any of his classes.  How should I know what he taught her?"

            "Who's this Lara Croft?" Juanita asked, perplexed.  Everyone around her seemed to have a strong reaction to that name.  She saw expressions on peoples' faces that ranged from loathing to admiration to annoyance.

            One of the young college students spoke up.  "Lara Croft is the greatest archaeologist who ever lived.  She's found more ancient artifacts in the past year than any of us could find in three life times."

            Jennie shared her feelings for Lara as well.  "Miss Croft is nothing more than a tomb raider.  She storms ancient temples, loots them, and as often as not she keeps the artifacts in her own private collection.  She does her exploring for fun, not for knowledge.  I'd be surprised if she knew anything about the cultures whose treasures she robs."

            "Lara is not such a bad person, Jennie," Mason said in her defense.   "She has done more to advance our knowledge of ancient peoples than anyone else on earth.  And her best-selling books have renewed interest in our line of work.  And I know for a fact that she is very knowledgeable about history.  I've had some of my most interesting and thought-provoking discussions with her."

            Jennie just sniffed.  "Well, I for one don't intend to let her anywhere near our discovery.  Who knows what she might try to do."

            "Oh, come on!" cried one of the college students.  "She couldn't hurt anything, and she might be able to help us.  I've always wanted to see her - uh, I mean meet her."  His face turned beet red as his classmates snickered and cracked jokes.

            "Yeah, Pete, we know what you want to see!"

            "I'm sure you'd like to screw, uh, talk to her!"

            Pete grumbled something under his breath and suddenly became very interested in his excavating work.

            Juanita listened to all of this, somewhat confused.  Finally she turned back to Mason.  "If she has studied with a Mayan glyph expert, I think we should at least call her.  If she can't help us then we've lost nothing.  If she can, we may just get that grant money yet."

            Jennie muttered something no one could hear, and then said, "Even if we wanted her help, we couldn't get it.  She's always off cavorting in some God-forsaken country where phones practically don't even exist.  She could be anywhere on earth.  We'll never find her."

            "Wrong," Mason said, smiling.  "She's barely more than a hundred kilometers from here.  She got back from some sort of expedition in Antarctica a few weeks ago and decided to take a vacation someplace warm.  I think her plane is due to land in Cancun in just a few minutes."

                                                            *            *            *

            Bloody airports, thought Lara as she searched for her luggage on the carousel.  She was wearing a T-shirt and baggy shorts and her hair was unbraided, since Winston, her butler, had told her she had to wear comfortable clothes if she expected to relax on her vacation.  When she had put them on before leaving England, she had decided he was right.  Dressing casually helped put her in the mood for her holiday.  But she wasn't feeling very relaxed right now.  Lara was amazed that disgruntled passengers didn't bomb airports more often.  She had certainly felt like doing something along those lines many times.

            So far, my vacation has been more stressful than that business in Antarctica.  At least I was in control of things there.  Things had certainly been out of control for the last few hours.  Her flight from England to Cancun had nearly been cancelled due to 'unstable weather conditions in the mid-Atlantic.'  What do weather conditions in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean have to do with a flight from England to Mexico, anyway?  After a three-hour delay her flight finally departed.  However, the airline made a mistake with the seating arrangements and Lara was forced to sit in coach, between a bawling three year old and a teenager who hit on her all the way to Mexico.  To make matters worse, the awful airline food had upset her stomach.

            She was waiting for luggage that had probably been sent to Zimbabwe when she heard her name on the PA system.  Struggling to hear amidst the cacophony of the airport she heard it again:  Lara Croft, please report to the front desk, there is a message for you.

            Lara muttered under her breath.  What was it now?  They had better not be bothering her about her guns again.  She had permits, damn it!  Her pistols were in the luggage she was looking for.  She hated being separated from them, but the airlines never allowed her to carry them on board.  It was only after tearing through huge amounts of red tape that they allowed her to bring them at all.

            Her luggage finally appeared, looking rather beat up.  She slung her backpack on, grabbed her suitcases, and began her half hour crusade to find the front desk, fighting her way through the immense crowd of people.  The airport's air conditioners were working full blast to try to cool the hot, stuffy terminal, and were losing the battle.  People headed to and returning from all parts of the globe staggered through the oven-like airport, searching for the exit, although they would find no relief from the heat outside.  Several people who had collapsed from heat stroke were being rushed to the hospital.  The sun seemed hell-bent on bringing them all to their knees.

            After an exhaustive search, she finally found the front desk tucked away in a little corner near the rear of the airport terminal.  I'd like five minutes alone with the person who designed this building, she thought as she stalked towards it.

            "Hello, I'm Lara Croft.  What is the message you have for me?"

            "I'm sorry, I'm not aware of any messages for anyone by the name of Lara Croft," the woman said mechanically.  She was dressed in the airport uniform and had a name tag that said '!Hola!  Soy Amy.  Hello! I'm Amy'.

            "It was just announced on the PA system.  Didn't you hear it?"

            "I'm sorry, no I didn't.  Is there anything else I can help you with?"

            "Is there someone else I can speak to about this here?"

            "I'm sorry, my boss is taking a break in the lounge."

            "Could you tell me where that is?"

            "I'm sorry, you're not allowed in there."

            Lara was on the verge of making her truly sorry when Amy looked down at her desk for a moment and said, "Oh!  Here's something.  'Have Lara Croft telephone this number.'"  Amy handed her a slip of paper with a telephone number on it.  "There you go.  Have a nice day!"

            As Lara stood in line for a pay phone she tried to think of one nice thing to say about airports.  Twenty minutes later when she finally got a phone, she still had not thought of anything.

            The person on the other end answered before the first ring was over.  "Hello?"

            "This is Lara Croft.  May I ask who I am speaking to?"

            "Lara, it's Mason.  How are you?"

            "Mason!"  Lara's mood brightened immediately.  "I'm fine, considering."

            "Glad to hear it.  I hope things have gone well on your trip so far."

            "Don't even start me on that.  We'll be here till Christmas.  It is nice to talk to you again, but I have a feeling that this is not a social call.  What are you up to now?"

            "I'm on a dig of the new Mayan ruins near Coba.  Someone recently discovered the foundations of some new buildings and we were sent here to expose them and look for anything interesting.  It was a pretty boring dig until about three hours ago."  Mason filled Lara in on the stele and the team's financial situation.

            "So if you play your cards right, this discovery could save your excavation?"

            "That's right.  And I was hoping you could help."

            "Me?  I hope you're not looking for a donation.  My own explorations take most of the money I make, and my most recent...excursion...required me to travel a lot more than usual.  I couldn't support a whole team of archaeologists."

            "No, no, nothing like that.  It's just that I know you used to study under Professor Carlton."

            "Professor Carlton!"  Lara remembered Professor Carlton well.  He had been her favorite teacher when she was in college.  Actually, he had been the only teacher she had liked at all, and the only one that had liked her.  They had shared a common love for the mysteries of the past.

            "What does Professor Carlton have to do with this?" Lara asked.  "I thought he was in the Himalayas."

            "He is.  That's the problem.  We need to know what is written on this stele, and we need someone who can read Mayan hieroglyphics to read it.  We've tried to locate someone who can help us, but there is no one nearby.  So, well, I was wondering if..."

            "If Professor Carlton might have taught me to read Mayan glyphs," Lara finished for him.

            "Well, yes.  Did he?" Lara could hear the hopefulness in Mason's voice.

            Lara answered him.  "Yes, I learned to read Mayan glyphs.  But—"

            Lara heard Mason let out a deep breath on the other end of the line.  "Great!  How long until you can be here?  Do you need transportation?  I can send a car out to your hotel, but that will take a while.  Can you just rent one?  I'm sure the airport has—"

            "Slow down there, Mason," Lara said with a smile.  "Aren't you forgetting something?  I'm on holiday.  I came to Cancun to relax and get some sunshine.  What if I don't feel like going to your dusty old dig?"

            Mason laughed.  "Okay Lara, no one is forcing you to come.  It is entirely up to you."

            "Yes, it's entirely up to me.  I haven't had a vacation in over a year.  I just got off of one of the worst flights I have ever been on.  I'm tired and grouchy.  I am suffering from jet lag and heat exhaustion as well.  The last thing in the world that I should do right now is get into a car and drive off to a hot field to join a bunch of people digging up old rocks."

            "You're right.  It is a bad idea.  See you in a couple of hours."  Lara could hear Mason chuckling as he hung up the phone.

            Bastard, thought Lara with a grin.  You know I can't resist a mystery.  Especially one that's been buried for a thousand years.

                                                            *            *            *

            "There she is," said Mason to the others.  They looked to where he was pointing.  At this distance they couldn't yet make out the car, but they could see the plume of dust rising from the road behind it.  "I knew she would come.  She's too curious not to."

            "I still think this is a bad idea," Jennie muttered.

            "Relax, Jennie," said Sam.  "She can't hurt anything."

            "She can't hurt anything, and she can certainly help you out."  This came from Jeff Simons.  He had driven out to the site after Mason called him.  Despite the heat and dusty air, he was wearing a white suit and carrying a small briefcase.  "Even if she can't read the glyphs, her very presence here will bring attention to your project.  'World Famous Explorer Lara Croft Examines Newly Discovered Mayan Ruins.'  That might not make the front page, but it will make the news.  Lara Croft is one of the most controversial public figures around.  And there is no such thing as bad publicity."

            They watched as the car came into view and made its way toward them.  It was a brand new cherry red sports car with darkly tinted windows.  Only Lara would be able to find a car like that on a moment's notice, Mason thought with a smile.  The car sped towards them, not slowing down until the last moment.  The driver expertly brought the car to a stop right next to the small group.  The car's engine shut off.  After a moment of silence, the car door opened and Lara Croft stepped out.

            After seeing her beautiful face and striking figure, the archaeologists took notice of Lara's outfit.  She had changed into a turquoise leotard and a pair of tight brown shorts.  Her brown hair was now in a tight braid that swung whenever her head turned.  On her back was a small backpack, and she was also wearing a pair of tinted granny glasses.  However, one didn't pay much attention to her figure or her attire after noticing the pair of pistols she kept holstered to her waist.  As she shut the door she examined the car, which had been caked by dust on her drive out.

            "I suppose I'll need to have it washed before I take it back," she said, her strong English accent making the simply stated sentence seem musical.  "This dry spell has turned the entire region into a dust bowl."  Lara turned to Mason and smiled.  "Nice to see you again, Mason."  She stepped over to him and gave him a quick hug.  Then she looked at the others.  "Well, are you going to introduce me to your friends?"

            "Lara, meet Samuel Miller.  He's been on many expeditions for us in the past, and his expertise has come in handy recently."  Lara shook his hand, noting that his grip was as firm as her own.

            "Call me Sam," he said, smiling at her.

            "Hello, Sam," she said.

            Mason spoke again.  "Lara, this is—"

            "Hello, Lara, I'm Jeff Simons, call me Jeff.  I'm here to give Orville some advice on generating public interest in this dig.  It really is a pleasure to meet you.  I've read a few of your books, and I must say, you have a knack for making a trip through some old ruins sound like a great adventure.  I think that, working together, we can get some really large grants for these people."  Jeff gave her a big grin and pumped her hand.  Lara smiled back, disliking him already.  The best part about being able to fund your own expeditions, Lara thought as she turned to face the woman standing next to him, is that you don't have to deal with self-absorbed, fast-talking windbags like him.

            "Lara, this is Juanita Rodriguez.  When she heard that a British museum was sponsoring an excavation in her own backyard, she offered to lend a hand."

            As they shook hands, Juanita said, "I've heard a lot about you in the past few hours.  I'm beginning to understand why."

            Lara smiled at that and turned to face the last person in the group.  Her smile faded.  She didn't bother to offer her hand, because this woman would obviously refuse it if she did.

            "Lara," Mason said hesitantly, "this is Jennie Goldsmith.  She's our dig supervisor and is an expert on Mayan culture and history."

            Lara nodded toward her.  Jennie just glared back.

            Mason, trying to avoid another of Jennie's outbursts, said, "Well, I guess you'll want to see it now before it gets too dark.  It's just a short walk.  Let's go.  Oh, and watch out for gopher holes.  I almost twisted my ankle in one earlier.  They're everywhere around here for some reason."

            As one, they turned and started up the small hill towards the excavation.  Lara made some judgments about the people she was with as they walked along.  In her years as an explorer she had made a name for herself, and like all celebrities, many rumors about her spread.  Some were flattering.  Some were not.  So it wasn't very surprising for her to find such mixed reactions over her among these people.  She had come up against everything from Sam's quiet admiration to Jennie's open hostility before.  Jennie obviously believed the negative rumors.  It did not upset Lara.  She no longer cared much about what other people thought of her.  And some of the disapproving rumors might even be true.  Lara was certainly not a saint.  At the same time, Sam's high esteem for her did not bother her, either.  She was used to that as well.  Jeff Simons would be a nuisance, but his kind were quick to back down if threatened, and Lara was willing to do that if he got out of hand.  Lara liked Juanita more than any of the others.  She was young and looked as if she loved archaeology.  Even better, Lara didn't think Juanita had ever heard of her before today, so she would be able to make her own opinions about her.

            After dodging several gopher holes (Bloody rodents, someone needs to set some traps), Lara reached the crest of the hill and saw the stele.  It was immense.  Sam had obviously worked the help hard to pull off a job this big, this fast.  The stele had been extracted from the ground.  It lay on its side beside the hole it had be pulled from.  Lara tried to imagine it standing straight up as it had when the Mayans had still controlled this land.  It would have been an intimidating sight to say the least.

            "We rushed a couple of cranes out here around noon.  Took both of them to lift the damn thing.  We cleaned all four sides off, found some beautiful representations of gods and legendary figures on three of the four sides but there are only glyphs on this one side.  They're pretty, uh, legible, since they haven't been exposed to the rain."  Mason stood back and let Lara walk along the stele, which, even lying on its side, was taller than she was.

            Lara was excited.  She loved rediscovering knowledge long lost from memory, learning things no one had known for centuries.  Only in her line of work could someone get the thrills of physical exertion and danger along with the excitement of solving long forgotten mysteries.

            "Well, can you read them?" Jennie asked, clearly believing that she could not.

            Lara smiled viciously at her and started to examine the glyphs.  The stele had been turned so that the glyphs were on one of the sides, not on top.  Lara tilted her head to look at them, starting with the ones on top and working her way down.  She could feel the tension in the people behind her.  She drew the moment out, enjoying herself.

            When she felt that her audience was about to burst, she said, "It's a history.  And a legend.  The history is about a war between the Yucatan Mayans, who lived in Coba and Panichi and other cities here in the north, and the Chol Mayans, who lived in the rainforests to the south.  The legend is about a quarrel amongst the gods."

            "Well, what does it say, exactly?" Mason demanded.

            "I can't tell you what is says exactly, because some of these symbols have no direct translation, or are as yet untranslated.  Also, this stele tells about the war from the point of view of the Yucatan Maya, so there is an awful lot of favoritism here, and I'm sure the facts have been twisted to make them look better than they were.  But it still makes for some interesting reading."

            "Damn it, Lara!  Just tell us as much as you can."  Outwardly, Mason looked very annoyed, but inside he was smiling.  He knew that Lara would tease them like this.  It was her style.

            Lara gave an exaggerated sigh and looked at the glyphs again.  Then she began reading.  "Many centuries ago, the 800s, I think, a Chol ruler began receiving revelations from Kinich Ahau, the Mayan god of the sun.  Apparently, Kinich Ahau was very upset with the human race.  Kinich Ahau provided man with the warmth he needed to live, the light by which to see by, and the energy for his crops to grow.  But man rarely prayed to Kinich Ahau.  He feared him.  Droughts would destroy his crops and dry up his water.  Instead, man worshipped Chac, the god of rain.  All Chac ever did was provide man with water, but he received more sacrifices and was prayed to more often than any other god.  Kinich Ahau was jealous.  So he commanded the Chol ruler to build for him a temple.  The ruler obeyed, and had his people construct the great Temple of Kinich Ahau.  Around the temple, a city grew up, and came to be known as Cholenque.  The ruler thought that his services were finished, but Kinich Ahau had another command for him.

            "The Chol ruler had to perform a ritual for him.  This ritual had the power to banish Chac from the earth forever.  Never again would rain fall on the land.  Kinich Ahau's burning glare would scorch the earth for eternity.  The Chol, who lived in the middle of the Yucatan rain forest, didn't believe that the rain could ever truly be stopped, so they did not protest.  Only the ruler believed in Kinich Ahau's power.  But he was under the god's spell, and had to obey him.  The god ordered the ruler to write down the ritual on a codex.  Then Kinich Ahau told the ruler that he must go to war with the Yucatan Maya to the north in order to capture a nobly born warrior who fought in Chac's name to be sacrificed in the ritual.  Only then could Chac be exiled forever."

            Lara paused for a moment.  She had worked her way a third of the way down the stele so far.  She glanced at her audience.  They were nearly shaking with excitement.  She had heard a couple of gasps when she had said the word 'codex.'  Jeff had a puzzled look on his face.  Lara guessed what he was wondering.

            "A codex is a folded piece of paper that the Mayans used to write on, similar to a book," she explained to him.

            "Are they valuable?" he asked.

            Lara grinned.  "I should think so.  There are only four Mayan codices still in existence.  When the Spanish Missionaries came to Mexico, they had all of the codices burned because they considered them blasphemous.  Only four survived, brought back to Europe as curiosities.  If another codex were to be discovered, it would be one of the most valuable Mayan artifacts ever found."

            Juanita couldn't contain herself anymore.  "Read the rest of it, Lara!" she exclaimed eagerly.

            Lara looked back at the stele and found where she had left off.  "The Yucatan Maya learned of the Chol ruler's intentions.  While the Maya in the rain forest were unable to grasp the devastation that an eternity of sunshine would cause, the Yucatan Maya, who lived in scrub land and suffered from droughts frequently, knew that they and all of the other Mayans would die.  The ruler of Coba, Muxhautl, urged all of the northern city-states to band together to defeat this common threat.  With their combined forces, Muxhautl forged the largest Mayan army in history.  However, Kinich Ahau was on the side of the Chol.  The god's fury scorched the crops of the northern Mayans, and caused famine to spread.  Only Muxhautl's great leadership and faith in Chac kept the army together.  At last, the armies of the north and the armies of the south met and clashed.

            "The battle raged for three days.  The Yucatan Mayans, despite their greater numbers, were being slaughtered.  During the day, Kinich Ahau burned them.  At night, when Kinich Ahau left the sky, jaguars would race from the jungle and attack the Yucatan Mayans.  Muxhautl was on the verge of giving up hope when Chac entered the battle.  A huge storm, the likes of which no one had ever seen before, tore through the sky.  The powerful winds and the searing lightning decimated the Chol.  The rain turned their camp to mud and made movement difficult.  The Yucatan Mayans, although camped only a few kilometers away, were virtually unscathed.  When the storm ended, the Mayans fell upon the Chol and massacred them.  The Chol ruler was captured and sacrificed to Chac.  The Yucatan Mayans continued south to the city of Cholenque and murdered all of its inhabitants.  They discovered the codex in the Temple of Kinich Ahau and returned with it to Coba."

            Lara paused again.  She looked at Jennie and said, "I don't understand the significance of the jaguars.  The story seems to take their attacks for granted, but jaguars seldom attack people.  Is it supposed to mean something?"

            Jennie was glad to know something Lara Croft did not.  "At night, when Kinich Ahau falls below the horizon, he becomes the Jaguar Lord of the underworld.  That part of the legend about the jaguars was probably made up to fit with the theme of an angry god."

            Jeff looked at her.  "That part was probably made up?  Don't you think that the whole thing is just a legend?"

            Jennie gave him an indulgent look.  "Most legends have some basis in truth.  There probably was a war between the Mayans of the north and the Mayans of the south.  The north was probably suffering from a drought, and a hurricane must have struck the peninsula during one of the battles.  Eventually, as the story was passed down from generation to generation, the storytellers added the parts about the gods, the temple, and the codex."

            "Oh, really?" asked Lara.  "You think the story is a lie?"

            "Do you believe in Kinich Ahau and Chac?" Jennie sneered.

            "No, but I do like to keep an open mind about such things."

            "Oh, please.  What evidence could you possibly offer to support a story like this?" Jennie asked contemptuously.

            "The codex," said Lara.

            Everyone stared at her.  Mason was the first to find his voice and asked, "Are you saying the codex was hidden around here?"

            In answer, Lara turned back to the stele and continued with the story.  "After a great debate, the rulers of the northern city-states decided that it would be sacrilegious, not to mention foolish, to destroy a codex written by a god.  Instead, Muxhautl ordered the construction of a great temple at his hometown of Panichi, this one in Chac's honor.  The Temple of Chac was built and the codex was hidden within.  Then the temple was sealed.  The temple had been hidden so well and built with such ingenuity that no one but Chac himself could ever enter it.  Muxhautl then ordered this stele to be erected as a monument to his glory and the glory of Chac.  Thus the Codex of Kinich Ahau's Fury was placed safely away from the hands of man."  The story finished, Lara stood up and faced the group.

            "Mason, you're money troubles are over," Jeff said happily.  "Everyone loves legends, especially ones that end with a hidden treasure.  Every news program and newspaper will have this story in it tomorrow morning.  Of course, we're going to have to make it easier to understand for the common listener.  Instead of 'The Codex of Kinich Ahau's Fury,' how about 'The Lost Legend of the Sun's Fury?'  Much easier to say, don't you think?  And more exciting.  We'll need to set up interviews.  I'll call—d"

            Jeff broke off when he realized that no one was listening to him.  Sam, Jennie, Mason, Juanita, and Lara were having an animated discussion about the Temple of Chac and the codex.  Jeff frowned, then shrugged it off and began making phone calls.

            "Mason, this is ridiculous.  If there was a great temple here dedicated to Chac, it would have been found years ago."

            "Jennie, just because it hasn't been found doesn't mean that it's not here.  The stele said it was well hidden.  What do you think Sam?"

            "The legend is probably just that.  A legend.  But it couldn't hurt to look, I suppose."

            "Look where?  Where can a temple possibly be hidden, out in the open like this?"

            "Underground, maybe?  The stele said they sealed off the entrance.  Maybe it's in a cave or something."

            "I think Juanita is right.  We need to look for possible underground entrances."

            " 'We,' Miss Croft?  You came here to help us read the glyphs on the stele.  You did.  You can go now."

            "I'll leave when I'm ready to leave, thank you very much.  Now, does anyone want to look around with me?"

            Mason looked at the sky.  The setting sun had turned the sky red.  The sun itself was just a great red ball hovering above the horizon, it's light made hazy by the dusty air.  "There isn't much light left for a search tonight.  Maybe we should wait until morning."

            "I'll go with you, Lara!" Juanita said.

            Lara nodded.  "All right, let's go.  Mason is right about there not being much light to see by, but we can at least get an idea of where we want to look in the morning."

            "All right, Lara, go ahead.  Jennie and I have to make some calls to our people in London.  What about you Sam?  What do you want to do?"

            Sam looked back and forth between Mason and Lara.  Coming to a decision, he said, "I think I'll help Lara and Juanita," he said.

            "Okay," said Mason as he began walking back towards camp.  "Just don't do anything stupid.  And watch out for those gopher holes.  You could sprain an ankle if you step in one of those things."  Two seconds later, Mason stepped in a gopher hole and sprained his ankle.

                                                            *            *            *

            "Well, have you seen anything that looks like a cave yet?" asked Sam.  He, Lara, and Juanita had covered a few kilometers, studying any odd rock formation that they came across.  There was now only a sliver of light in the west.  In a few minutes it would be completely dark.

            "No, I haven't," Lara said, disappointed.  It wasn't really surprising.  She hadn't expected to find it today, but it would have been nice to see the look on Jennie's face after telling her that she had discovered her 'lie' of a temple.  "Let's just get to the top of this incline and look around a bit.  Then we'll call it a night."

            Sam nodded, but said, "You do realize that the Yucatan is a rather seismically active place, don't you?  If there was a cave, it could have collapsed centuries ago.  We may never be able to find it."

            "The Mayans built things to last, Sam.  If they carved a temple out of rock, it's still here.  All we have to do is know where to look for it."

            They crested the small hill.  Lara looked about her.  The land sloped steeply down the other side.  Nothing but a smooth meadow spreading down the hillside.  No way a cave could be hidden around here.  With a sigh, she began to turn around to head back to the camp.  But something caught her eye.  She looked again.  There was something glimmering below, in the distance.  She headed towards it.

            When she got closer, she became excited.  It looked as if there was a huge hole in the ground.  How could this have gone unnoticed for all of these centuries? she wondered.  Then she realized what she was looking at.

            It was a pond.  The water was reflecting the darkness of the sky, and for a moment she had thought that it was a giant hole.  Lara was glad it was this dark out, so Sam and Juanita couldn't see her face turn red.

            "What is this pond doing here in the middle of nowhere?" Lara asked Juanita.

            "It's not a pond," said Juanita, "It's a cenote.  Cenotes are deep natural wells carved out of limestone.  The Yucatan peninsula is a huge piece of limestone.  That's why there are almost no surface rivers here.  All of the water seeps into these giant underground rivers and flows out to sea.  Cenotes are places where the underground rivers have carved their way so close to the surface that the ground above them collapses, forming these deep sinkholes.  The Mayans of Panichi probably used this cenote as their principal water source."

            Lara stared at the dark mirror of the cenote for a few minutes.  Juanita heard her mumble something.

            "What did you say?" she asked.

            Lara spoke louder. ' "'The temple had been hidden so well and built with such ingenuity that no one but Chac himself could ever enter it.'  That's what the stele said.  Well, I can only think of one place that Mayans could be sure that no one would ever be able to go.  Deep underwater."

            Juanita's eyes widened.  "Of course!  They could have built the entrance at the bottom of the cenote.  No one could ever enter it."  She grinned.  "At least not until scuba gear was invented."

            "How could they have built a temple underwater?" asked Sam.  "They wouldn't be able to breathe."

            "The builders could have drained the cenote while construction took place," answered Lara.

            "The Mayans didn't have the equipment to drain that much water."

            "If there is one thing I've learned about ancient cultures," said Lara, "it's that they could accomplish anything if they had strong enough incentive.  And an angry god is good incentive.  Now, do you have any diving equipment at your camp?"

            "I think we do.  We were going to do a little exploring in the cenote, to see if anything interesting had been dropped in it."

            "Go get it," Lara ordered.

            As Juanita ran off, Sam asked, "Do you really think that it's a good idea to be diving alone at night?"

            Lara chuckled.  "It wouldn't be the first time I've done this, Sam."

            By the time Juanita returned it was completely dark out.  It was a new moon, so the only light came from the stars, and their reflections in the pool.

            Juanita handed the gear over to Lara.  As Lara examined it, she almost decided Sam was right about this being too dangerous.  The gear was ancient.  The aqualung was so old-fashioned that Lara thought it might have been made in the 1950s.  The valves were rusted and corroded, and upon testing it, Lara was amazed to discover that it still held air.

            Lara strapped the gear on.  She removed a flare from her pack.  Juanita offered her an underwater flashlight, but Lara refused it.  In her opinion, low-tech was less likely to fail on you than high-tech.

            "If I haven't found anything in twenty minutes, I'll come back up," said Lara.

            "Be careful," said Sam.

            Lara dived into the cenote.  No light penetrated the water from the surface.  Lara lit a flare.  It's brilliance caused her to look away for a moment.  Then she began to swim down.

            Lara followed a spiraling pattern.  By going in circles as she went down, she was able to examine the rock walls on all sides of the cenote.

            The tunnel narrowed as she continued downward.  She had no idea how deep she was going, because the equipment didn't come with a depth gauge.  There weren't any fish or animals in the cenote.  It seemed to Lara that she was the only living thing left on earth.

            The water got colder as she continued her slow downward circuit, but she wouldn't die in chilly water in just twenty minutes.  What bothered her was the lack of anything interesting in the cenote.  She didn't want to go back to the surface empty handed.

            She had not yet reached the bottom of the cenote when ten minutes were up.  She continued down.  It would be faster going up, anyway.

            A minute later she was saw the bottom.  The tunnel, which had once gone all the way down to the massive underground river that fed the cenote, was now blocked off.  At some point in time, part of the limestone walls of the cenote had collapsed and obstructed the passage.  The enormous limestone boulders that now blocked the tunnel were immovable.

            The boulders were littered with the bones of unfortunate animals who had drowned in the water.  Lara saw nothing that indicated the entrance to anything, let alone a temple.  If the temple entrance had been beneath the boulders, they would never reach it.

            Time to go up top, she thought, discouraged.  She looked up to begin her return swim and saw it.

            How she had missed it coming down, she didn't know, but there, a few meters above the obstruction, was a tunnel perpendicular to the one she was in.  Mother Nature had not carved this tunnel.  Its corners were too square, it's course too straight.  The mouth of the tunnel was half blocked by a giant stone.  The other half of the stone lay among the boulders on the bottom of the cenote.  Some earthquake in years past must have broken the seal to the temple.

            Lara felt that heart-pumping excitement she always felt when she discovered a secret long buried away from man.  She stared down the tunnel.  It was roughly two meters square.  She could not see its end.  She glanced at her watch.  Sam and Juanita would expect her back in less than five minutes.

            Well, they'll just have to wait.  I'm not leaving until I know what's down there.  She knew that this was foolish, and that her curiosity had nearly killed her before, but she couldn't help herself.  This was what she loved doing.

            Lara squeezed herself into the space between the broken stone and the door.  There wasn't much room.  She managed to avoid cutting herself on the jagged protrusions of the stone.  Her aqualung was not so lucky.

            It happened fast.  One moment air was flowing into her lungs, and the next moment it wasn't there.  She managed to avoid inhaling water but a look at her air tank almost made her scream.

            The hose had gotten snagged on the stone and had torn off.  The tank was expelling the rest of its air, and apparently that wasn't much because it was empty by the time Lara had backed out of the tunnel.

            She looked up.  How far down had she come?  It had taken over ten minutes coming down, but that was swimming slowly in circles.  Now she was flying straight up, pulling herself through the water with all of her strength.  Could she hold her breath until she reached the surface?  Or would she take water into her lungs before she could reach air?

            Lara's muscles were on fire.  Her heart was pounding hard and fast against her ribs.  She felt the adrenaline pumping throughout her body, that sweet rush of liquid fire that she lived for.  And would probably one day die for.

            Would that day be today?

            She clawed at the water.  Her flare burned out, leaving her in total darkness (I wonder if I'll ever see light again...).  Her lungs told her body that if she didn't draw a breath she would die.  Her brain told her lungs that if they tried, she would die.

            Lara could feel herself blacking out.  How much farther? she wondered.  This was too much.  Her arms ached, her legs ached, her lungs ached.  She could feel her consciousness slipping away.  Look on the bright side, Lara.  You'll never have to fight your way through any bloody airport again.

            When she broke the surface she was moving so fast that her body came half out of the water.  She fell back in, and then resurfaced.  She tore her mask off.  Her lungs were greedy.  She knew she had to keep control over them if she was to keep from hyperventilating.  The fuzz in her vision began to clear.  She stroked over to the side of the cenote and heaved herself onto the ground.  She was totally exhausted.  She had come seconds away from death.

            She loved it.

            She heard a noise nearby and sat up.  Juanita and Sam appeared.  Sam was surprised to see her.  "You're back early," he said.  "I figured you'd stay down there for at least ten minutes after you said you'd be back.  So, did you find anything?"

                                                            *            *            *

            Uaxahpu pounded on the door to Alex's room.  He kept pounding until it opened.  Alex stood in the entryway, wearing a robe.

            "This had better be good," he growled.  Behind him, Uaxahpu saw a woman peeking through the open bedroom door.  Well, Alex, I see you have been having a good time.  But I think my news will give you more a pleasure than this woman ever could.

            "Turn on your television, Alex.  One of my eyes and ears has informed me that a very interesting broadcast is going to be on the late news."

            "I doubt that it will be interesting enough to merit waking me," Alex muttered savagely, but he walked over to the television and turned it on.

            Uaxahpu entered the room and stood, watching the news program.  After the anchor got done talking about the current wars and natural disasters occurring in the world, she got to the good news.

            "Earlier today," the woman said in Spanish, "a group of English archaeologists uncovered an ancient Mayan pillar at an excavation not far from the great ruins of Coba.  The pillar, called a stele, was covered with Mayan hieroglyphics.  Lara Croft, a Mayan writing expert and famous explorer, was flown in from England to attempt to translate them.  The story has been dubbed, 'The Lost Legend of the Sun's Fury.'"  She went on to give a brief, and quite flawed, summary of the legend carved on the stone.

            When she finished, Alex sat quietly for a moment, turning things over in his mind.  Then he turned to Uaxahpu.  "This is the codex you are looking for?"

            "The name of the codex is the Codex of Kinich Ahau's Fury.  The reporters changed the name to interest their listeners more."

            "It will tell us where to find Cholenque, and how you are to perform your stupid ritual?"

            "Yes," answered Uaxahpu through clenched teeth.

            Alex nodded.  "Wake everyone.  We're taking off in half an hour.  I want to be on site before dawn."

                                                            *            *            *

            Now the giant cloud mass began to change.  Before it merely turned a smooth white face towards the sky.  But as satellites watched, the center of the whirling tempest began to break up.  A hole bored its way through the middle of the storm, leaving a path of open air from the ocean up over ten thousand meters to the top of the storm clouds.  And warnings and predictions were sent at light speed by the world's meteorological equipment to the different Caribbean countries, telling them that they were no longer facing a mere tropical storm.  They were about to be hit by a hurricane.  The storm, the hurricane, continued its march across the ocean, its single monstrous eye gazing endlessly, looking for the people it must destroy.

                                                            *            *            *

            When Lara reached the dig the next morning, she knew there was trouble.  There were cars and vans and trucks everywhere, more than there should have been.  Way more.  What happened? she wondered.

            Last night she had driven back to her hotel since there wasn't any room for her at the camp.  Mason had promised her that he would get some new scuba gear so she could explore the temple today.  Now Lara got the uneasy feeling that no one would be doing any exploring any time soon.

            Lara had to park her car a good distance from the dig, due to all of the other vehicles in the way.  She made her way toward excavation.

            There were police officers and reporters standing around the dig.  These people Lara had expected.  The find would have generated some excitement, so it wasn't surprising to for them to be there.  What she didn't understand was why there were so many civilians around.  And why so many of them were wearing jackets.  They had to be close to passing out in this heat.  What kind of moron would want to wear an extra piece of clothing on a day like this?

            The many people gathered on the hillside took notice of her quickly.  She wore the same color and style of clothes as she had yesterday.  Some of the people who had seen her the day before probably thought she hadn't changed clothes.  In truth, Lara had many sets of the same clothes.  This outfit suited her needs best when she was working, so she wore it often.  Despite her love for adventure and excitement, Lara was a creature of habit.

            She spotted Mason off to one side, looking at the situation with a neutral expression.  She made her way toward him.

            When Mason saw her coming he grimaced.  "Lara, you're not going to like this but you just have to trust my judgment, okay?" he said.

            "How about you just tell me what all of these bloody people are doing here at your dig?" Lara demanded.

            "It's not my dig anymore, Lara.  The job of exploring the new temple was given to another team.  Our team is heading back to England tomorrow."

            "What!  Did you not get the money?  I'll help pay for the exploration if that's the problem.  I want to see this thing through."

            "We got the money, Lara.  Tons of money.  And that is the problem."

            "I don't understand."

            Mason sighed.  "Lara, it's like this.  A few hours after you left we got a call from our supervisor back at the museum.  It seems that the museum was given a huge grant to give the project over to another museum's team.  So we've been called off.  Our team is to spend the rest of the day telling the new people everything we've learned so far.  Then we leave tomorrow morning."

            "Doesn't your museum realize that the money you could generate from a discovery like this is enormous?  How could they let the project go for a little bribe?"

            "Yes, they realize there is a lot of money to be had.  But this was not a little bribe.  We are talking millions of dollars to support future explorations.  The museum board couldn't turn that kind of money down."

            Lara's eyes narrowed.  "What museum could have that kind of money to throw away like that?  Who do these people work for?"

            "They work for the Denver Museum of History and Science.  But you're right," he said, turning to look up at the exposed stele and building foundations.  "It doesn't make sense.  Something strange is going on here.  To give away that much money, this museum must expect to get even more money in return.  And I don't see how that's possible."

            "Have you talked to the man in charge of them yet?" she asked.

            "They haven't let me.  They keep telling me he's too busy."

            "Busy?" Lara's eyes narrowed.  "I think I can convince him to squeeze us onto his daily planner.  Where is he?"

            "They've set up their command in that red tent over there."  Mason pointed to a large tent half a kilometer from the hill.

            "Follow me," Lara commanded as she stalked towards the large tent.

            "Lara, don't do anything stupid," he said.  Actually, he was hoping she would do something stupid.  He wanted answers, too.  He hobbled after her, favoring his good ankle.

            Some men stood around the entrance to the tent.  They appeared to be just lazing around, but Lara had the suspicion that they were really standing guard.  A suspicion that was confirmed when the men, noticing the guns strapped to her hips, slid their hands inside their jackets.  Lara didn't have any doubts about what they had hidden inside of them.  In weather this hot, there was only one reason for someone to wear a jacket.  This is no archaeological dig.  What is going on here?

            When Lara and Mason were a dozen meters from the tent, one of the men held up a hand.  "I'm sorry, but the dig supervisor is very busy.  You'll have to come back at another time."

            "Don't you think that he could make a little exception for me?" Lara asked sweetly, moving closer.

            The guard eyed her up and down, obviously thinking that if he were dig supervisor, he would make a little exception for her.  But he said, "I'm afraid not, miss.  Now if you would please return to your camp, I will let the supervisor know that you want to speak with him and he will try to find time to meet with you later."

            Lara stepped closer again.  "Well, if he's to busy to see me, maybe he can find time to listen to a couple friends of mine."

            "Oh?  Who might they be?"

            In a flash, Lara's guns were out of her holsters and aimed at the man's face.  "I'd like you to meet the Magnum sisters.  Although they don't have much personality, they can be very persuasive.  Do you think your supervisor would listen to them?"

            If Lara had any doubts about these men, they were gone now.  While most people would tremble with fear if a gun were pointed at their head, this man kept his cool.  He was a professional.  "I don't think you would be willing to shoot me with all of these reporters and officials around," he said calmly.

            "Gee, I was just thinking the same thing about your boys over there," Lara said, glancing over at the other guards.  They looked very agitated.  Their hands were itching to pull out their weapons, but they kept glancing nervously at the crowds of people nearby.  If a reporter saw a half a dozen archaeologists packing heat, questions would be asked.  Their weapons remained in their holsters.

            "Good, boys, that's smart.  You don't want to attract attention.  Now, who's going to show me inside?"

            "Go to hell, lady," sneered the man she was covering.  "You won't fire those things off for the same reason we won't.  There are too many witnesses."

            Lara moved in closer to the man.  "You don't know what I may be capable of," she whispered.  The man paled.  His cool was breaking.

            "What's all of this commotion out here?  We're trying to get some work done."  Lara looked at the tent entrance.  Standing there was a tall handsome man with parted brown hair.  Behind him were a few other men and women, who Lara assumed were other high ranking people in this organization.  One in particular caught her attention.  A short man who stood away from the others.  He had the hair and facial features of a Native American.  A full-blooded Mayan, if she was not mistaken.  This new twist set Lara thinking.  She holstered her weapons.

            The tall man's gaze fell upon Mason first.  "Ah, I recognize you.  You must be Orville Mason, the former dig supervisor."  He walked over to him and shook his hand.  "Nice to meet you, Orville.  I'm Alex Gordon, your replacement."  Mason ground his teeth.  He hated being called by his first name, and he hated being called 'former' anything.

            "I suppose you're here to find out why my museum paid so much to take over this expedition."

            "Yes, we were wondering about that," said Mason.  "Where does your 'museum' get that kind of money, and how does it expect to replace it?"

            Alex smiled.  "If you're looking for some kind of conspiracy, I'm afraid you're going to be awfully disappointed.  You see, our museum curator is a Mayan fanatic, because he is Mayan," he said, and turned to point at the short Mayan standing off to the side.  "He was raised in a large poverty-stricken family.  He immigrated to the United States years ago, made a fortune in business, and founded our museum.  He has made it his goal to put together the greatest collection of Mayan artifacts on earth, to show the world the former glory of his people.  He hopes to use the money raised by our museum's visitors to help with the plight of the Mayan people."

            Lara looked back at the Mayan.  He was looking at her with dark beady eyes.  Could this just be a case of a man trying to raise money to help his destitute people?  One of the saddest stories in history was the fall of the Mayans.  Their great glorious empire outshone all of the other in the history of North America.  But just before the arrival of Europeans, the empire collapsed, and the Mayans were reduced to few straggling bands in decaying cities.  Now, five hundred years after the collapse of the empire, most Mayans were poor farmers, discriminated against by their government and without hope of a happy future.  If this man was trying to raise money to help his kin, there was nothing wrong with that.  But if he had tens of millions of dollars to obtain this excavation, why didn't he just give that money to his people?

            Alex continued.  "If this temple has never been looted, then the artifacts within it should be extremely valuable.  Our curator believes that the money generated by putting these artifacts in traveling exhibits will make back all the money we lose and more.  So you see, there is nothing here for you to worry about.  Now, if you would please return to your camp, I have much work to do."

            He turned to go back to his tent, but Lara's voice stopped him.  "If these men are simply archaeologists, why are they carrying guns?"

            Alex turned around slowly.  Before, he had given her merely a cursory glance before focusing attention on Mason.  Now he really looked at her.  Lara noticed the slight widening of eyes, the slight faltering of his smile.  Then his face was again composed, his smile wider than ever.

            "Well.  Miss Lara Croft.  I had no idea that you were part of this excavation."  A sharp glance at one of the men next to him told Lara who had been responsible for giving Alex information on the members of the English dig team, and that that person was in big trouble.  Apparently this man realized the same thing, because he paled noticeably.

            "I joined on when things started getting interesting," she said.

            "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you.  I've wondered if I would ever get to see archaeology's most controversial figure face to face."

            "You didn't answer my question, Mr. Gordon.  Why are your men carrying weapons?"

            "Please, call me Alex.  As to your question, the reason is quite obvious.  The treasures in the temple may be worth millions.  We have to keep them safe from thieves, who would sale them on the black market."

            "Why do I not believe you?"

            "I think, Lara, that—"

            "Miss Croft, thank you."

            "I think, Miss Croft, that your past dealings have made you a very distrustful person.  We have no evil intentions, I assure you.  Now, if you would please leave, I must get back to work.  History is going to be made today."  With that, he turned and walked back to his tent.

            Lara was fuming.  She knew that something was not right, but this man had answered all of their questions so coolly that anyone else would believe him.  Without any proof, there was nothing she could do about it.  She headed back to her car with Mason.

            She had decided on one thing, though.  These men would not get the codex.  If Mason wasn't able to reach the temple, then Lara would.  Once she had the codex, she would figure out what this was all about.

            She looked back over her shoulder.  Alex and his men were standing just outside of the tent entrance and were having a heated discussion.  Lara was too far away to hear what they were saying, but she had a feeling that she was the main topic of that discussion.  She glanced at the Mayan man.  He was still staring at her.

            That man is no businessman, and he isn't a museum curator, either.  I don't know what is going on here, but whatever it is, that man is at the center of it.

                                                            *            *            *

            Lara crept forward, her guns drawn and ready.  The grass was high enough to hide her from view, but she could still be heard if she wasn't quiet enough.

            There was a warm breeze blowing through the open field, causing the grass to sway back and forth, giving the earth the appearance of being a living entity itself.  But whether the billowing field was squirming with ecstasy or writhing in pain was anyone's guess. 

            Lara could just see the stars glinting off the surface of the cenote through the grass.  She didn't see any guards.

            After leaving the dig site earlier that day, she had gone shopping.  She now carried the air tanks and mask she had bought.  This gear was the best money could buy.  She was not going to make the same mistake twice, no matter how exhilarating the mistake may have been.

            No one knew she was here, and she intended to keep it that way.  Mason would never allow her to breach the contract between the two museums like this, even if he did agree with her.  And Lara didn't want to think about what Alex would do to her if he caught her.

            Lara became even more alert as she neared the cenote.  She was certain Alex had posted guards here.  He would not take the risk that someone may try to beat him to the codex.  Especially since he knew she was around.

            Lara spotted a red glow out of the corner of her eye.  She looked.  A small red light shone brightly for a moment, then died down.  A cigarette.  She had spotted a guard.

            Lara approached him from behind.  If she were forced to use her guns, her secret would be out.  She had to do this quietly.

            The man was very alert.  Despite the time of night and the monotony of guard duty, he was taking the job seriously.  These people were pros.  He was dressed in a dark gray uniform, the best color for blending into the night.  Only his bad habit gave him away.

            The guard never knew what hit him.  Lara's arm came around his neck, cutting off his ability to breath, as well as to cry out.  At the same time she slammed the barrel of her gun against the back of his head.  He was unconscious immediately.

            Lara quickly gagged him and bound his hands and feet with duct tape from her pack.  Then she continued to circle the cenote.

            Ten minutes and two guards later, she felt that she had ensured her safety as much as she could.  It was time to get down to business.

            She strapped on her aqualung and walked toward the edge of the cenote.  The water was rippling in the breeze, casting weak reflections of starlight.  It was mesmerizing.  In her travels, Lara had seen that nature could be very beautiful.  She had also seen that danger often lurked beyond that beauty.

            As she prepared to put her mask on, she heard a rustling in the grass behind her.  She whirled around, pulling her guns from their holsters.  The movement stopped.  She could see nothing.

            "Come out, or I start shooting!" she called, hoping that this was the only person within earshot.

            The rustling began again, coming closer.

            She heard a voice speaking calmly.  "Don't worry, Lara, it's only me.  Sam."

            Sam?  What was he doing here?

            Sam stepped out of the tall grass.  He was wearing a wet suit and diving equipment.  Lara wouldn't even have recognized him if she hadn't been able to see his brown hair and eyes behind his mask.

            "I thought I might find you here," he said casually.  "Are you ready for our dive?"

            "Our dive?  What are you doing here, Sam?  If anyone finds out about this, you'll lose your job at the museum.  It's a breach of contract."  Lara sounded displeased, but she was really impressed.  She had judged Sam to be a good archaeologist, nothing more.  Now it appeared that there was a lot more to him than that.

            "Then we just won't let them find out.  And if they do, so what?  With my credentials I can get a job somewhere else easily."

            "Why are you doing this?" Lara asked, truly intrigued.

            "The same reasons you are," he said impatiently.  "This is an incredible find.  I don't want to keep the codex.  I just want to be the one who finds it.  Then that rich nut can do whatever he wants with it." Sam frowned.  "And I'm worried about what this guy really wants.  He has to have a reason for doing what he's doing, and his explanation wasn't worth shit.  Maybe we can trade the codex for some answers.  Real answers."

            Lara smiled.  "Great.  Although I'm not entirely sure that we should give the codex back.  But we'll worry about that later."

            "Okay.  Now, are we going to do this or am I going to have to go in there alone?"

            "Hell will freeze over before I let you go in there without me.  Let's go."

            Lara pulled her mask on and leaped in at the same time as Sam.  Cold dark water swirled around her.  She prepared to light a flare when the powerful beam of Sam's flashlight cut through the darkness.  Sam gestured.  Lead the way.

            Lara swam steadily down the cenote, recalling her trip to the surface just twenty-four hours ago.  The very thought of it caused her gut to clench and her heart rate to pick up.  She swam faster.

            The entrance to the tunnel soon came into view.  Lara had brought something along in case she found it impossible to squeeze through the small opening, but she got through all right without using it.  She turned to wait for Sam.  Although larger and well-built, Sam too managed to make it through the opening without a mishap.  Together they began to swim down the tunnel, making a journey that no man or woman had been on in over a thousand years.

            The tunnel was long.  There were no branches or sharp turns.  It just kept moving on its course, slightly downhill.

            They had been underwater for half an hour when the tunnel came to an end.  Ahead of them was a spiraling staircase, carved from stone.  Sam and Lara ignored the steps and swam up the staircase.  Lara wondered what this place had been like before it had been filled with water.  She imagined the Mayans walking up this staircase a thousand years ago to give a final prayer to Chac before sealing the temple.  Her stomach fluttered in anticipation of what they might find.

            Lara was beginning to worry about whether or not they would have enough air to make it back the way they came when they saw the top of the stairs.  She and Sam broke the surface and took off their masks.  The water ended a meter from the top of the staircase.  Leading away from the staircase was a long hallway with a tall peaked ceiling.  A small waterfall fell from the hall down the stairs until it reached the pool of water they were floating in.  The light of Sam's flashlight did not reach the end of the hall.

            "How can this be out of the water?  It doesn't make sense," Sam muttered as he took off his aqualung.

            Lara did the same.  "It does make sense.  The tunnel led us back to the hill dig site.  It's at a higher elevation than the cenote, so it's above the water level.  We're probably right under your excavation."

            "I guess we should have dug a little deeper," Sam grumbled.

            They left their scuba gear next to the underwater stairs and proceeded down the hall.  They moved slowly because Lara insisted on keeping a constant lookout for booby traps.  It was hard for her to keep her concentration on possible traps when the tunnel itself was so interesting.  The walls of the tunnel were made of stone.  Water dripped from between the cracks in the stones and cascaded down the wall to the floor of the hall.  The hall went slightly uphill, so all of the water flowed back toward the little waterfall and on into the submersed stairwell.  The floor was really a never-ending, two centimeter deep river.

            "Where do you suppose all of this water is coming from?" asked Sam as he studied the walls under the glare of his flashlight.

            "One of Juanita's underground rivers, probably.  It must flow right outside of the hall, and the water seeps in through the cracks.  Be careful not to break through the wall, or things could get really wet in a hurry."

            "I'll keep that in mind."

            They continued along the hall, probing the darkness with Sam's flashlight and carefully examining the floor beneath the water swirling at their feet before moving forward, then stopping to repeat the process.

            Lara's breathing sped up from excitement.  If this temple was as important to the Mayans as she thought it was, there should be several booby traps in it.  She needed to be careful not to let her excitement make her careless.  She forgot all about that when the hallway came to an end.

            Before Sam and Lara was a waterfall.  It was a thin sheet of water, pouring from a crack in the roof.  The fall blocked the doorway into a room beyond.  Water flowed out of the room and down the hall.  They could hear the splashes of a lot of dripping water.  It sounded like it was raining on the other side.

            Sam aimed his flashlight at the sheet of water.  It was useless.  The smooth sheet of water reflected the light back at them like a mirror, successfully obstructed any view into the room.  They would have to enter it blindly.  This is amazing, thought Lara.  The construction of this temple must have been one of the greatest achievements in the history of the Maya.  She had to know what was in that room.  Lara took a deep breath and stepped through the waterfall.  Sam followed her.  As they stepped through, the water parted around them like a curtain, and then closed behind them.  Despite the fact that only a thin layer of water blocked them from retreating to the tunnel, Lara felt as though she had been sealed in a tomb.

            Inside the room, water dripped onto their heads like rain.  Sam aimed his flashlight around, but it didn't help much.  There was something on the other side of the room that reflected the light, but they couldn't tell what it was.  The flashlight did not provide enough illumination.

            Lara reached into her pack and withdrew three flares.  She lit them all at once and threw each one to a different part of the room.  And gasped.

            Lara had been to dozens of tombs and temples and palaces in her travels.  Most were crumbling, dilapidated structures.  Some held traces of their former glory.  Others were stripped bare.  A very few retained the beauty that they had had when they had still been in use.  This was one of those temples.

            It was the altar room of the Temple of Chac.  Here, the priests and nobles had placed their offerings to the great god that gave their people the water with which to live.  It was an altar fit for a god.

            Lara and Sam stood on a small square projection of stone, covered in a couple of centimeters of water.  The room itself was spherical, about thirty meters in diameter.  The projection of stone that they stood on was at the outside edge of the sphere.  It extended for a couple of meters, and then dropped off into a pool of sparklingly clear water that filled the lower half of the sphere.  But the most incredible thing about the room was that the wall was solid gold.  The inside of the sphere was completely covered with gold.

            The gold had been worked into designs and hieroglyphics.  Ancient torch holders that had been used to light this room a thousand years earlier were golden protrusions on the walls.  Golden likenesses of gods bulged from the sides of the wall.  Reliefs of great rulers and special symbols were all carved into the wall, all gold.  And then there was the water.

            While the gold in the lower hemisphere of the room shimmered and wavered beneath the rippling surface of the pool, the upper hemisphere shimmered behind a constant shower of water.  Small pores and crevices in the golden wall let water seep into the room from the underground river beyond.  Water trickled down the surface of the golden glyphs, gushed across the reliefs of high priests, cascaded over the faces of the gods.  The coating of water made the gold itself appear to be flowing and rippling.  And, as would be fitting for the altar of the god of rain, there was an unending downpour.

            The bumps and ridges in the gold made the water drip from the roof, causing it to rain ceaselessly within the room.  The pool's surface churned in the never-ending shower.  All of the movement, all of the activity made the room itself seem alive.  The light of the flares was reflected by the gold, by the ripples, by the rain, reflected a thousand times over.  The room glowed with golden light.  It was the perfect backdrop for the beautiful offerings that had been left here for the enjoyment of Chac.

            Submersed in the pool were hundreds of artifacts, decorated with precious metals and stones.  There were statues cast in gold, jewelry covered with diamonds, sapphires, and rubies, and tools and weapons made of silver.  But dominating over everything in the pool was the altar itself.

            It rose from the very center of the pool, nearly three meters square and fifteen meters high.  It came to within half a centimeter of the surface of the pool, not quite breaking it.  It was made of white marble.  Centered on the top of the altar was a small golden chest.  The chest was not ornamented.  It was the simplest object in the room.

            Lara knew what was inside of it.

            Lara realized that she and Sam had been staring at the room for several minutes without moving.  She shook herself and got back to the task at hand.  The task of retrieving the Codex of Kinich Ahau's Fury.

            "Wait here, Sam," she said as she slipped off the stone into the pool.

            "Uh, Lara, are you sure this is a good idea?"  Sam was looking around the room nervously.  This was the most amazing thing he had ever seen.  And if the Mayans had had the ingenuity to construct this room, what could they have constructed in the way of traps?

            "Don't worry, Sam," Lara said as she stroked over to the altar.  "I do this kind of thing all the time."

            Lara looked at the treasures laying at the bottom of the pool as she swam over them.  Most of them would be worth an entire expedition alone.  Yet she was ignoring all of them for the codex that she knew lay inside of the chest on the altar.  It was amazing that among all of these gems, all of this gold, the most valuable thing in the room was a piece of paper.

            Lara pulled herself onto the altar.  Here, the water just barely kept the marble pillar submerged.  The chest was the only thing in the room that was not under water.  She knelt in front of it.

            Looking down at the marble top of the pillar, Lara saw a few hieroglyphics carved into it.

            "What are you looking at?" called Sam.

            "There are some glyphs on the altar."

            "What do they say?"

            Lara studied them.  "They say... they say, 'This chest is an offering to Chac, the great magnificent god who gives us life.  Any mortal who touches this chest shall perish by his hand.'"

            "Nice."

            "Well, that's what it says."

            "Are you going to touch it?"

            "I have to if we want to see the codex."

            "My life insurance doesn't cover death by divine punishment."

            "Stop being negative."

            "Sorry, I just get cranky when a spiritual entity threatens my life."

            "Look on the bright side.  If we die, we'll never have to go to another airport again."

            "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

            "Never mind."

            Lara bent over the chest.  She ran her fingers all around it, looking for tripwires or hidden switches.  She found none.  Taking a deep breath, she gripped the handles on the sides of the chest.  She waited.

            Nothing happened.

            "So much for divine annihilation," she said happily.  She pulled on the chest.  It didn't budge.  She set her feet and tugged again.  It didn't move.

            This is heavier than it looks, Lara thought.  The chest was solid gold.  It weighed nearly a hundred pounds.

            "Do you need some help?" asked Sam, getting ready to jump in and swim out to her.

            "No, let me try again," Lara said. She crouched low, gripped the handles tightly, and took a deep breath.  The she pulled, straining every muscle in her body to move the chest.  She heard a scraping noise.  She was moving it.  She poured all of her strength into it.  The scraping noise continued.  She grunted, still pulling on the chest.  It was getting easier to move.  It must have been stuck from sitting in one spot for a millennium.  Suddenly, it was free.

            Lara staggered back with the chest in her arms.  She just managed to stop herself from falling off the altar.  She slumped, exhausted, the crushing weight of the chest in her arms.  As she caught her breath, she thought she heard someone shouting.

            "Lara, what the hell did you do?" cried Sam.  Lara spun around just in time to see a stone slab half a meter thick fall across the opening through which she and Sam had entered the room.

            How could I have not noticed that slab hanging above the threshold? she thought angrily.  That's what you get for gawking at the scenery, fool girl, she chastised herself.  She looked back down at the altar.  Where the chest had been setting was a small circle of stone that protruded from the marble.  A weight switch.  By removing the chest she had triggered the closing of the door.

            "What made that door close?" Sam asked her.

            "There was a switch beneath the chest.  I set it off by removing it."

            "Why the hell would they set something up to do that?"

            "A last-ditch effort to keep the codex safe.  If someone managed to get to this room, then he would be trapped here, unable to perform the ritual at the Temple of Kinich Ahau."

            "Great.  Now what do we do?"

            Lara thought of the item in her backpack that she had brought along in case the hole in the tunnel entrance had not been big enough for her to get through.  But she decided against using it.  It couldn't break through half a meter of stone.  More likely, it would bring the roof down on their heads.

            "I guess we wait.  Alex's men should make it here sometime tomorrow.  They can get us out."  Lara grimaced at the prospect of Alex saving her life.  But beggars can't be choosers.

            "Well I've got some bad news for you, Lara.  We won't be alive by the time they get here.  Look around you."

            Lara did.  And saw what he meant.

            When she had stepped onto the altar, the water over it had only been half a centimeter deep.  Now it was four centimeters deep.  The room was filling with water.

            "Okay, we have a problem.  Got any ideas?"

            Sam looked around the room, then back at her.  "No."

            Lara sighed.  Well, at least the room is filling slowly.  We have time to figure something—

            Without warning, a hole ten centimeters across opened in the center of the altar and water gushed out of it, flying nearly to the ceiling of the room before pouring back down.

            "Shit!" shouted Sam.  Lara fell backwards, landing half in the water.  She struggled to right herself without dropping the chest into the pool.  If she did, she would never be able to get it back out.  It was too heavy.

            Seeing Lara's predicament, Sam dived into the pool and swam out to her.  He pulled the chest from her arms and set it on the altar, then pulled Lara onto it as well.

            Water from the new fountain drenched them.  The noise of all of that water in the small room was almost deafening.

            Lara managed to sit up.  In seconds, the water had gone up another dozen centimeters.  In little over a minute, it would be over their heads.  Lara knew she could stay afloat, but not if she wanted to hold onto the chest.  It would weigh her down.

            "Quick, help me open it," Lara commanded Sam, shouting to be heard over the thundering water.  He gave her a look that made it obvious that he had some serious doubts about her sanity, but he knelt down to help her.

            The chest had a set of double doors built into it.  However, there was no latch, no keyhole, no handle, nothing that could help them open it.

            Sam reached into a pocket in his wetsuit and pulled out a Swiss army knife.  He jammed the thinnest blade into the crack and tried to lever the door of the chest open.  It didn't budge.

            Lara pounded on the chest with frustration.  She and Sam were still kneeling down, and the water was up to their chins.  They would have to stand up and hold onto the chest while trying to pry it open with a small Swiss army knife blade.  Impossible.  There was just one other course of action left.

            Lara thrust the chest into Sam's arms and stood up.

            "Stand up," she ordered Sam.  He stood up.

            "Hold the chest out in front of you."  He did as she asked.

            Lara drew her guns.  "Now stand still," she said, aiming them at the chest doors.

            "Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Now just hold on a damn second.  What do you think you're doing?"

            "I'm going to try to blast open the doors.  Now hold still."

            "Don't you think this is a little dangerous?"

            "No, the doors are thick enough that they should protect the codex from damage.  Now stop moving around or I'll end up shooting you."

            "Duh!" Sam shouted.  "Do you think I'm crazy?  Here, you hold the chest, and I'll shoot at it."

            "Yeah, right.  I might get shot.  Don't move."

            Lara's guns blazed, sending bullets to ricochet off the chest doors.  When her magazines were empty, Lara studied the damage.  The doors had been severely bent.

            Realizing that Lara had stopped shooting, Sam opened his eyes.  This woman is insane, he thought, but at least she knows what she's doing.  He looked at the water.  It had risen past his stomach.  It would be over his head in a few seconds if he didn't let go of this chest.  He began pulling at the damaged doors with Lara.

            The doors squeaked and screeched, but did not open.  The water was up to their necks now.  The golden likenesses of gods and rulers were slipping beneath the water's raging surface.  Soon they would, too.

            Sam raised the chest to keep it above the water.  He pounded on the doors with his fists.  He could feel them giving way.  The water was covering his nose when the doors came off in his hands and a piece of parchment fell out.

            Lara snatched it before it fell into the pool.  She jammed the folded piece of paper into her waterproof pack of flares, cringing at the thought of the damage she was subjecting the codex to.  A paper that old could disintegrate with the slightest touch.  If she had ruined it she would never forgive herself.

            Of course, if we drown in here, I won't have to worry about it, she thought grimly.  Sam had let the chest fall to the bottom of the pool and they were now both floating in the water.  As the water rose and the room narrowed, the water level climbed even faster.  The room would be full of water in minutes.

            "This doesn't make sense," Sam sputtered as he treaded water.

            "Which part?" Lara growled back.

            "This room.  It can't just keep filling up with water.  There's too much air trapped in here."

            Lara blinked.  He was right.  The room was over three quarters full now.  All of the air in the room should be trapped up in this small space.  The water shouldn't be able to continue pouring in because the built up air pressure would keep it at bay.  Yet water was still coming in.  Which meant that the air was escaping somehow.

            And if the air can escape..., thought Lara.  She studied the room's ceiling more carefully now.  There had to be some sort of vent that was letting the air get outside.  She spotted it.  At the very top of the spherical room was a grate.  The crafty Mayans had decorated it to look like just another relief of a high priest, but behind his golden outline was a small tunnel leading up.  The air was whistling through the grate's holes.

            Ingenious, thought Lara as the water continued it's lethal climb.  The Mayans understood the principals of air pressure, so they left a passage for the air to escape, but put enough metal between the tunnel and the room so no one could break through.  No one who wasn't packing heat, that is.

            "Sam, I'm going to try to blow open this grate," Lara shouted.  "Cover your head.  You don't want any ricochets to give you new body cavities."

            "Trying to shoot our way through again?" Sam asked as he stroked closer to her.  "Great idea, considering how well it worked last time.  If this thing doesn't bust apart immediately, we're not going to have time pry it open."

            Looking around, Lara saw that he was right.  They were only a few meters from the ceiling, and since the room narrowed as it got closer to the top, the water level was rising very quickly.  They had less than a minute to escape.  Once again she decided against using the item she had packed for this sort of emergency.  They were too close to the grate to avoid its blast.  She would have to use her pistols.

            "Cross your fingers," she muttered as she took aim at the grate.  She pulled the triggers.  Nothing happened.

            Lara stared dumbly at her pistols for a moment.  What was wrong?  Surely the water hadn't kept them from firing.  Then with a flash of realization Lara knew why they hadn't fired.  She hadn't reloaded them after taking out the chest doors.

            Lara fumbled with her pack.  They were now only two meters below the grate.  The chance of them getting hit by ricochets was extremely high now.  She had dug through her pack so many times now that she knew where every item in it was by heart, but with the prospect of drowning so real, she couldn't seem to find her spare magazines.  Come on, where are you?  Her teeth were clenched and bared.  That wonderful flood of adrenaline ravaged her body.  Her hands closed around a pair of magazines.  She ripped them from her pack, ejected the spent magazines from her pistols, slammed the new ones home, and opened fire on the grate.

            The echoes were so loud that it sounded like an army was letting out a barrage of machine gun fire.  Lara could feel the wind of ricocheting bullets buzzing past her face as she attempted to obliterate the golden barrier.  The gold of the grate was thinner and less hard than that of the chest.  The metal was mangled where the bullets struck it, twisting it and breaking it.  Lara concentrated her firepower on a small area.  It only had to be big enough for her and Sam to get through.  She never let up on the triggers.

            After a few seconds that had seemed like an eternity, the guns fired on empty chambers.  She was out of ammo.  She checked Sam.  He hadn't been hit.  Then she assessed the grate problem.  It was a mangled mess, but it still held.  The water was so high now that she could reach out and touch it.  She did.  And pulled.

            It didn't budge.

            The water was going to be over their heads in less than ten seconds.  Lara should have taken last night as warning.  She had almost drowned, and a day later had jumped right back into the cenote.  What stupidity.  She had been dealt a bad hand, and her bluff had been called.  I've always known that if I kept living my life on the flip of a coin, eventually it would come up tails.  But I am not ready.

            She was not ready.  And she wasn't going to quit.

            She flipped her body so her feet pressed against the ceiling and pulled on the golden bars with every ounce of strength in her body.  She felt the cords and tendons in her body strain to the breaking point.  She felt the grate begin to give.  She let go and flipped upright again to grab a breath before pulling some more.  She surfaced and discovered there were only a few centimeters of air between the grate and the water now, and they would be gone in a moment.  She breathed deeply (Will this be my last breath?), spun upside down in the water again, felt Sam beside her pulling on the grate, braced her body against the ceiling, gripped the grate herself, and pulled.

            Lara's life had been in danger many times.  She had never had her life flash before her eyes, but when she was on the verge of death, a memory would sometimes surface in her mind.  Now, Lara remembered the yak.

                                                            *            *            *

            Lara had spent the last eleven years of her life proving to herself that she was a fighter.  When she had been a twenty-one year old debutante in high English society, she hadn't known what kind of determination it took to keep trying, keep striving through pain and fear in the face of death.  All that had changed the day her plane had crashed.  She had been returning from a ski trip, but instead she had been jerked into the worst nightmare of her life.

            She had been the sole survivor.  There had been no one to help her.  No one to tell her what to do, or how to do it.  She had only her body and her wits.  And for a girl who had never been allowed to use either one all her life, that meant she had nothing.

            She had wandered around the wreckage in the blowing snow for the entire first day, trying to find a way to convince herself that this wasn't happening, not to her.  She was Lara Croft, daughter of Lord Henshingly Croft, and he would not stand for this.

            But her father was not there.

            That night, Lara had huddled under a piece of the plane fuselage.  She was crying.  She had no blankets to warm herself with, she had no food to eat, and she didn't know what to do.

            As Lara stared blankly into the dark, stormy sky, snow catching in her lashes, her body bruised and bleeding from her injuries, she had thought, It's over.  I'm going to die.  No one is going to save me.

            And suddenly, Lara realized that she wasn't alone.  There was an animal out there, moving through the snow.  For a moment she was frozen in horror.  She saw the giant hairy brute and all of the childhood fears of monsters and demons flooded her mind, paralyzing her with fear.  Then the rational part of her mind had started functioning again, and she recognized the animal for what it really was.  A yak.

            Lara got up and staggered closer to it.  When she could see it better, she was horrified.

            The yak is the mule of the Himalayas.  They look like buffalo, with long horns and giant shaggy bodies.  They had been domesticated by man, and were used as pack animals.  There was something almost noble about a yak.  Their huge bodies seemed to be indestructible.  But this one had gotten lost.  Perhaps it had wandered away from its farm in a snowstorm, or maybe its owner had been riding it, and had died, leaving the animal on its own.  It didn't matter.  It was alone now.  And dying.  The once proud and magnificent beast was starving.  The animal's shaggy hair hung limply from its body, its ribs protruding from its side.  It hadn't eaten in a week.  And by another bad bit of luck, it had been here when the plane had crashed.  A piece of the plane had flown threw the air, slicing through the Yak's back.  Now, unable to move the rear half of its body, and nearly cut in half, the Yak was on the brink of death.

            Oh, poor yak, Lara had thought, you're lost and alone too.  The world has dealt us both an evil twist of fate.  It's so unfair.  I'm sorry we're going to die, yak.  We're both in so much pain.  We've been through too much.  Now you're ready to give up and die, like me.

            But the yak had not been ready to give up and die.  As Lara watched, astonished, the yak dug in with its front feet and pulled itself forward, its rear half dragging on the ground behind it, leaving a bloody trail in the snow.  And as Lara's eyes followed the trail, she saw that it stretched over a hundred meters.

            I've spent this whole day wandering around this wreckage in circles, she had thought, getting myself ready to die, while this yak, with its body torn almost in half, has been moving forward, trying to make it home.

            She continued to watch, fascinated.  The yak kept putting its front feet forward, digging in and pulling itself along.  The misty breath that escaped form its nostrils was tinged red with blood.  It made the most pitiful sounds Lara had ever heard, and she knew that its pain must be incredible.  But it kept moving.  It kept moving.  Another hour passed.  Two.  Three.  Lara watched as the beast managed to attain another fifty meters, fifty meters in which it could have given up, fifty meters in which it could have dropped from the pain, fifty meters in which it had gotten closer to home, and then collapsed.  Dead.

            Lara sat staring at it.  The last eight hours of its life had been the most painful of its life.  It had given its all, had refused to give up until death took it, and for its efforts, it had left a 150 meter trail of blood.

            What was the point? Lara wondered as she continued to stare at the giant form of the yak and its crimson trail.  What was the point of all of that struggling?  The days of starvation, the nights of cold, the hours of pain?  All that was left was a bloody trail.

            The point, she realized, was not where the yak had gotten, but where it might have gotten.  The yak had thought it was going to die.  The yak had not believed it would get home.  But if it could have gotten home, could have lived, if there was a chance, the slightest chance, then any struggle was worth it.

            Lara had done nothing to get home.  She had no blankets to warm herself with because she hadn't pulled any from the wreckage.  She had no food to eat because she hadn't looked for any.  She didn't know what to do because she hadn't tried to think of anything.

            The yak had kept going till its dying breath.  Lara would, too.

            She would save herself.

            She would stop crying over how unfair and how wrong this all was, and start doing things.  She would search for food, find warmer clothes, make tools she might need.  She was going to be as strong as the yak.  She was going to keep moving until she made it home or died trying.  She was a fighter.  She was not ready to die.

            She was Lara Croft, and she would not stand for this.

            And it had not been as easy as that.  When she had been walking for a week, had gone hungry more days than she had eaten, she had wanted to give up.  She had wanted to be weak.  But she remembered the yak, and kept going.

            And when she had been trudging through snow for twelve days, and her feet were covered with blisters, and each step was another burst of agony, she had thought, Wouldn't be nice to rest for just a little while? knowing that if she stopped, she would never be able to start again.  But she remembered the yak, and with every painful step she took she renewed her resolve.

            And, at the end, when she had been reduced to crawling, pulling her body forward like the yak, she had wanted so badly to die, for it to be over, to just stop the hurt and the pain.  But she had kept going, because she remembered her family.  She remembered her home.  She remembered her life.  She didn't really want to die.  She was not ready.  She was not ready.

                                                            *            *            *

            I AM NOT READY! Lara's mind screamed.  The grate ripped open.  She pulled herself up into the hole.  She needed air.  Now.  The water had risen well up into the tunnel.  She clawed her way toward the surface.  All of a sudden she was jerked to a stop.  Her shorts had gotten hooked on a piece of metal where the grating had broken off.  She reached down and tried to pull the piece of metal off.  Her struggles only got her further entangled.  Please come off! she though desperately.

            A hand tore hers away from the snag.  She looked down and saw Sam.  He reached up with his other hand and used his Swiss army knife to cut her free.  Lara shot upwards.  Her head came out of the water.  She breathed again.  Sam broke the surface next to her, gasping for air.

            "So," Sam said between pants, "do you ever get tired of doing things the hard way, or do you feel unsatisfied if you don't narrowly escape death every ten minutes?"

            "Oh, no.  I've been known to go several days without almost dying."

            "Gee, you need to start taking more risks.  Stop living so comfortably."

            Lara grinned.  Having a sense of humor was necessary when you lived like this.  Sometimes laughter was the only escape.

            Sam aimed his flashlight up the tunnel.  Lara could just make out the top of it, about five meters up.  The water was rising a meter every five seconds or so in this narrow tunnel.  They would be out in no time.  But where exactly 'out' was, she couldn't be sure.

            As the terror she had felt in the water died down, Lara luxuriated in the nervous energy left behind by the adrenaline her body had dumped into her system.  A by-product of her survivalist lifestyle, she had learned to enjoy the rushes.  She never felt more alive than when she was pumped full of that hormone.

            The water reached the top of the short tunnel and gushed up over its sides.  Lara and Sam climbed out.  Now they were in another tunnel, perpendicular to the last one.  The walls were limestone, carved out by years of erosion.  The low dirt ceiling was soft, and roots hung from it.  We have to be near the surface, Lara thought.  The hill isn't very tall.

            Sam shone his flashlight beam in both directions.  They couldn't see the end of the tunnel in either direction.

            "I'm freezing," said Sam as the water continued to pour out of the tunnel.  "We need to get out of here.  Now."

            "Hang on," muttered Lara as she tried to think.  "The water is still pouring in, so there still has to be an exit for the air.  We need to find it."

            "But what could it be?  We've studied every inch of this hill from the outside.  If there were a cave or a tunnel leading into these caverns, we would have found it."

            "Still, there has to be a way out.  And we need to find it fast.  The water will wear away at the tunnel walls.  They'll collapse onto us.  Hang on, I have something we can use."

            Lara reached into her pack and pulled out two balls of yarn.

            Now Sam was certain she had gone mad.  "Uh, Lara, I know I said I was cold, but I don't think that this would be a good time to knit me a sweater."

            Lara tossed him one of the balls.  "These passages might branch.  Tie one end to a rock here.  Unravel as you go.  I'll do the same thing down this tunnel.  If you find an exit, tie off your string there, follow your string back here, and then follow my string to me.  Then we'll follow the yarn back out."

            "Oh.  Uh, good idea."

            Lara found a good-sized rock and tied one end of her ball of yarn to it.  Then she lit a flare and took off down the tunnel.

            Lara was right.  The tunnels did branch.  The passages were winding, so as to make the most use of the ground under the hill.  Whenever Lara came to a dead end, she backtracked and took a different route.  Her ball of yarn slowly grew smaller and smaller.

            We're running out of time, thought Lara, as she watched the knee-deep water carve a large piece of limestone rock out of the wall.  Fissures began opening up in the floor of the tunnel, through which even more water gushed up.  They had unleashed an underground river, and it was forcing itself to the surface.  Soon the whole place would cave in.  She started moving faster.

            Lara ran around a corner, only to find nothing under her feet.  The water had carved out a section of the tunnel's stone floor.  The hole was only a foot deep, but that was enough to make her stumble.  She fell against the tunnel wall.  Her head struck a rock protruding out from it.  She slumped against the wall and slid to the floor.  Her body settled into a sitting position, her head only a few centimeters above the rising water.  She was out cold.

                                                            *            *            *

            "LARA."

            "Hmmmm?"

            "WAKE UP, LARA CROFT."

            "Who are you?"

            "I AM CHAC."

            Lara woke up.  She could not believe what she saw.

            Lara was floating in the air, totally naked.  Not just without clothes, but without a body.  She was a soul.  She could not see the ground.  She could not see the sky, either.  It was raining, but like no rain on earth.  The rain came from every direction.  And the rain was colored.  It was white, red, yellow, black, and green.  The raindrops would hit each other and merge, flying off in a new direction as a different color.  Lara's skin (Skin?  I don't even have a body...) was pelted with the rain, but it didn't hurt.  She didn't feel anything.  And she wasn't afraid, either.

            "Chac?" Lara murmured, idly wondering how she could murmur without lips or vocal chords.  "Sorry I ruined your temple.  You really need to have that leak fixed."

            "LARA.  I NEED YOUR HELP."

            So what else is new? Lara thought, amused.  She liked Chac's voice.  In it was the crash of thunder, the patter of rain, the shriek of wind.  It was insistent, but not demanding.  Strong, but gentle.  Like he knew that if he were not careful, his power might crush this fragile little soul he was holding.

            "What do you need me to do, Chac?"

            "I NEED YOU TO DESTROY THE CODEX OF KINICH AHAU'S FURY."

            Lara should have been horrified by the suggestion of damaging such a priceless piece of history, but the best she could muster up was a slight discontent.

            "That codex needs to be studied, Chac.  It needs to be placed in a museum.  The information on that codex could explain some of the mysteries of the Mayan people."

            "THE INFORMATION ON THAT CODEX COULD DESTROY THE EARTH.  IF THE RITUAL ON THE CODEX IS PERFORMED, I WILL BE BANISHED TO THE UNDERWORLD FOR ETERNITY, AND KINICH AHAU'S FIERY GLARE WILL SCORCH THE EARTH FOREVER."

            "If the codex is that terrible, why can't you destroy it?" Lara murmured.  The longer she stayed here in this spiritual realm, the less she cared about the earthly world.  She tried to wonder how Sam was doing, but she couldn't focus her thoughts on something that unimportant.  It seemed so trivial now...

            "I CAN NOT DESTROY THE CODEX MYSELF.  IT WAS INSPIRED BY A GOD, AND A GOD CAN NOT UNMAKE WHAT ANOTHER GOD HAS MADE.  ONLY A HUMAN CAN DESTROY THE CODEX.  THE MAYAN PEOPLE ARE TOO AFRAID OF KINICH AHAU TO DESTROY IT.  YOU MUST DO IT FOR THEM."

            Lara wasn't really listening to Chac anymore.  She was having trouble remembering what her body was like.  She had a vague recollection that her body could feel things, things like pain and pleasure.  That must have been so annoying.  This nothingness was much more soothing.

            Lara forced herself to pay attention.  Something Chac had said didn't make sense.  "Chac, why would anyone want to use the codex?  If the sun ruled the earth, everyone would die, including the user."

            "THE EVIL IN SOME MEN'S HEARTS DRIVES THEM TO DO SENSELESS THINGS.  RIGHT NOW, THERE ARE MEN WHO ARE TRYING TO OBTAIN THE CODEX.  MOST OF THEM DO NOT REALIZE THE TRUE POWER OF THE CODEX, BUT ONE OF THEM DOES.  AND HE INTENDS TO USE IT."

            "Can you stop them?"

            "I AM TRYING.  KINICH AHAU HAS BROUGHT A TERRIBLE DROUGHT TO THE YUCATAN, TRYING TO KEEP ME AWAY FROM THESE MEN LONG ENOUGH FOR THEM TO USE THE CODEX.  BUT HE FORGETS THAT WHEN HE HEATS THE LAND, HE ALSO HEATS THE OCEAN.  AND IT IS FROM THE WARM OCEAN'S WATER THAT I GAIN MY GREATEST POWER.  ONCE BEFORE, I MANAGED TO DEFEAT MEN WHO WISHED TO USE THE CODEX.  I DESTROYED THE ARMIES OF THE CHOL MAYA WITH MY HURRICANE, AND LED THE YUCATAN MAYA TO VICTORY.  I WILL DO THE SAME AGAIN, IF I AM NOT TOO LATE.  BUT EVEN IF I CAN DESTROY THESE MEN, I CANNOT DESTROY THE CODEX.  YOU MUST HELP ME.  NOW RETURN TO YOUR BODY.  YOU MUST MOVE SOON, OR YOU WILL DROWN.

            My body? Lara thought.  How am I going to find it?  Then she felt the tug of it, pulling her away from Chac.  She felt herself returning to her world.  She had one more question for Chac, and struggled to remain in this place long enough to ask it.

            "Chac, why me?  Why does it have to be me?" Lara shouted.

            "BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE SPIRIT OF A FIGHTER, AND A NOBLE HEART.  YOU WILL FIGHT FOR WHAT YOU KNOW IS RIGHT.  AND YOU WILL NOT LET YOURSELF LOSE.  THAT IS WHY I HAVE CHOSEN YOU TO BE MY WARRIOR.  NOW GO.

            Lara went.

                                                            *            *            *

            "Lara!"

            "Hmmmm?"

            "Wake up, Lara!"

            "Chac?  I thought I was going back..."

            Lara felt cold.  And wet.  She opened her eyes.  She had eyes.  And her body.  She was back in her body.

            Sam was standing over her, shaking her.  "Lara, are you all right?  What happened?"

            Lara's head was throbbing.  She put her hand to her temple and felt a lump growing there.  She looked about.

            "I was running.  I fell and hit my head.  I must have been unconscious."  Unconscious.  Head trauma.  That would explain her weird dream.  It had to have been a dream, hadn't it?

            "Lucky for you I got here when I did.  Your nose was about to go under water."

            Lara shook her head, trying to get things to make sense.  Chac had been a dream.  He must have been.  Anyway, that wasn't the important thing right now.  The important thing was getting out of here alive.

            "Did you find a way out?" Lara asked.  If he hadn't, they were as good as dead.  The water was over there waists, now.

            "Uh, yeah.  Sort of.  It's not going to help us much, but it's our only chance.  Come on, I'll show you."

            He extended a hand to help steady Lara, but she shook her head.  She could make it by herself.

            Sam plowed through the water ahead of her, following his piece of yarn and lighting their way with his flashlight.

            The water rose steadily, and the higher it went, the slower they moved.  The dirt ceiling had turned to mud, and the limestone walls were being chiseled out by the water, making them thinner and weaker.  As they passed tunnel intersections, Lara saw that some of the tunnels had already caved in.  It was only a matter of time before the entire cavern collapsed.

            The water crept up past Lara's chest.  Lara peered into the gloom ahead of Sam.  She couldn't see any sign of the exit he had found.  If it were much farther, they wouldn't get there in time.

            Sam rounded a corner ahead of her and said, "Here it is."  He didn't sound too excited.  That worried Lara.

            She saw why when she turned the corner.  The 'exit' was a hole in the tunnel wall about twenty centimeters in diameter.  She could see dim light from the night sky coming from the small hole.

            "It's about two meters from the surface," Sam said as Lara studied the hole.  "Although it might as well be two kilometers for all the good that a hole that small will do us.  These Mayans didn't intend for anyone to got out of here alive."

            "But how could you not have noticed hole like this in the hillside?" Lara asked puzzled.  "There have to be more of them.  Why didn't you—"  Suddenly it dawned on her.  "The gopher holes!  They were really air outlets!  How ingenious!  These ancient civilizations always had a knack for hiding things out in the open."

            "That's great Lara, but let's talk about the awe-inspiring ingenuity of ancient cultures some other time.  Right now, the only thing I'm interested in is whether or not you have any ideas about how to widen that hole enough for us to get out of here before we drown or are crushed."

            "Why, yes actually, I do," Lara said, smiling.  "I brought something along in case I needed to use brute force to get into the temple.  I didn't think I would need it to get out of the temple, but it will work just as well for that."

            "What is it?" Sam asked suspiciously.

            "Just get back," Lara answered.  She reached into her pack.  This is a bad idea...  The explosion is going to bring the whole tunnel down.  But it's our only chance.

            She pulled the grenade she had brought with her out of the pack.  She positioned herself so she could get away as quickly as possible.  We're only going to have one shot at this, she thought.  Taking a deep breath, she pulled the pin from the grenade.  She quickly tossed the grenade as far into the 'gopher hole' as she could, and then struggled to get away.  The water was nearly up to her neck now, which made fast movement extremely difficult.  She only made it four meters before the grenade exploded.

            Mud, dirt, and water filled the air.  Even after the debris from the explosion had all settled, dirt continued to fall from the ceiling, which was caving in.  Lara turned back to the hole, calling Sam.

            "Sam, where are you?  We have to hurry!" Lara shouted.

            "No kidding," Sam muttered.  Lara finally saw him, moving in her direction.  "Do you always carry high explosives around with you, or are you putting on a special show just for me?"

            "I just try to be prepared for everything," Lara said with a grin.

            Her grin widened when they reached the hole.  It was now a large crater.  Lara could see the night sky through a hole that would easily allow her and Sam to escape this underground deathtrap.

            Lara climbed into the cavity her grenade had made and scrambled up to the surface.  The star-studded sky stretched away to the horizon.  She gazed at it as she pulled her dripping, muddy body out of the pit.  She took a deep breath of the night air.  There was nothing more exhilarating than knowing you had just narrowly escaped death and were safe once again.  The feeling empowered her.

            She could see the stele and building foundations a little farther up the hill.  She wondered if the Mayans who had lived in this town hundreds of years ago had known what all of these little holes were really for, or if they had just believed them to be gopher burrows as well.  Had they known about the secret carved in the rock beneath them, or had even they wondered where this mysterious temple was hidden?  So many questions for which answers would never be found.

            Sam pulled himself out of the hole and sat next to her.  For the first time, Lara really studied him.  When she had met him at the dig, she had judged him to be just another archaeologist who dug up broken pots for a living and had ignored him.  While they were in the temple, Lara had been too preoccupied to spare him more than a few passing thoughts.  Now she realized that she had been mistaken about him.  Sam had broken the rules set by his superiors at the museum and taken his life in his hands when he decided to search the temple on his own.  And when death had been close at hand, he had not shrunk from it in fear.  He had forced himself through the dangers, and had lived to tell about it.  And he had done it so calmly that Lara knew that it wasn't the first time that he had.  As she looked at the tall, dark haired man, she realized that she had several unanswered questions about him.

            "Sam, what sort of digs have you been on in the past?"

            Sam looked at her, grinning, his wet hair falling over his eyes.  "We've been out of danger for half a minute, and you're already over it and starting to ask questions?"  He chuckled.  "I've been on excavations all over the world, Lara.  Digging things up is my life.  Why do you ask?"

            "Because you aren't terrified in perilous situations.  Because you decided to go against your orders to see the temple.  Because you are obviously more than a mere shovel-wielding archaeologist.  You're an adventurer and explorer as well.  Now, what have you been doing that has trained you so well?"

            "Oh, Lara, I just work for the British Museum of Anthropology, that's all.  I just excavate dusty old artifacts.  And, sometimes, when an excavation isn't going well, or if we get a clue or an idea that our superiors believe is too dangerous to follow up, I do a little work on my own to help the expedition out, that's all."  Sam laughed.  "Nothing compared to your adventures."

            "So you just do the dirty work for sponsored archaeological digs?  Why don't you go out on your own expeditions?  Have some real fun?"

            "I've read some of your books, Lara.  If half the stuff that you write about your explorations is true, I don't think I could survive much 'fun.'"

            "Actually, only about half the stuff in my books is true.  If I wrote the whole truth, no one would ever believe me."

            "In that case, I don't think I want to know the whole truth of your adventures."

            No, you probably don't, Lara thought.  Telling the truth about some of her expeditions would probably be seen as good cause to lock her up in an asylum.  She almost laughed as she thought of how little truth she had put in her journal about her search for the Dagger of Xian.  She had had to make up practically everything, or be forced to write about the floating islands and—

            Lara abruptly lost her train of thought.  She was not sure what had just startled her, but she didn't like it.  She reached for her case of flares and withdrew one, careful not to damage the codex.  She lit the flare and stood up.

            Sam watched her looking around warily.  "Is something wrong?" he asked.

            "I'm not sure.  It's just that a moment ago I thought I... I felt something."

            "Felt what?"

            "I—"  And then she felt it again.  A slight tremor in the ground.  By the way Sam quickly jumped up, she knew that he had felt it, too.

            "What is it?  You think it's an earthquake?" Sam asked.

            "No…" Lara mumbled.  Not an earthquake.  The whole hillside was trembling slightly.  She then realized that the whole hillside was wet.  The water from the spring they had opened was seeping out of the earth, causing the dry brown grass to glisten in the starlight.  She looked at the crater they had just climbed out of.  It was now filled to the brim with water.

            "Oh, no," said Sam, as he realized at the same time as Lara what was happening.

            Lara spun around and started racing down the hill.  She heard Sam pounding down the hillside next to her.  How could we have forgotten? Lara asked herself angrily.

            The limestone and dirt of the tunnels had been eroding so quickly when they had been trying to escape.  The water had continued to eat away at the interior of the hillside after they had gotten out.  Now, there was nothing left to support the ground above it.  As Lara and Sam sprinted away from the hilltop, it began to collapse.

                                                            *            *            *

            A millennium earlier, the Mayans had built the Temple of Chac to honor the god whom they considered to be the most important for their continued existence.  They had intentionally placed it at a location where they knew the mighty underworld rivers that Chac controlled were close to the surface and on the verge of causing a collapse.  The greatest minds of their advanced society devised a method to bottle up the powers of those rivers and delay the imminent destruction of the town of Panichi.

            They had also devised a way to release that river if the Codex of Kinich Ahau's Fury should ever be disturbed.  The protection of the codex was of the highest importance, and nothing, not even the lives of the townspeople of Panichi, could stand in the way of its segregation from mankind.  So they built the temple to be destroyed if there was a danger that the codex might be released.  Soft dirt, weak limestone walls, and numerous cracks for water to travel through made the hill a disaster waiting to happen.  The destruction would be total and catastrophic.

            Even so, the creators of the temple would be relieved to know that there were no people living in the town of Panichi when it was obliterated.  In fact, there were only two people on the entire hill.

                                                            *            *            *

            The hill appeared to invert itself.  Where once there had been a protrusion from the ground, a depression was forming.  The top of the hill, with the ancient foundations and the magnificent stele, was the first thing to go.  The ground just seemed to turn into liquid, and the final remains of the town of Panichi, and the stele with its testimony to the greatness of Chac and the Yucatan Maya, slid into the earth and disappeared.  Then the destruction spread out like the ripples from a pebble tossed into water.

            The hillside caved in so quickly it appeared to implode.  The dirt crumbled away, the land dissolved, and mud and water took its place.  Waves of mud spread out from the center of the disintegrating hill and plowed into Lara and Sam, knocking them flat and sending them sliding the rest of the way down the hill.  Above her, earth that Lara had just slid over fell away into the watery void.  She felt a scream escape her lips, but could not here it over the sound of the dying land.  The roar of the rock and dirt falling into that huge pit was deafening.

            They reached the bottom of the hill, and kept sliding for several meters, borne upon a wave of mud, before coming to a stop.  Lara struggled to get to her feet.  It was nearly impossible to stand up when the ground had turned into a mud slick.  Finally maintaining her balance, she looked back at the hill.  And couldn't find it.

            Instead, there was a lake, covering all of the acres where the hill had once been.  The thick muddy waters swirled and churned as the liquid continued to pound against the dirt and rock that had fallen into its depths.  Lara knew that in a few days, the dirt and limestone would settle along the banks of the new lake and pile up.  The forces that had torn apart the hill could not keep a lake of this size wet under the heat of the sun.  The lake would shrink until there was only just a small pond, maybe no bigger than the cenote they had dived into earlier that night.  And this new cenote, fed by the underground river that she had released, would be the last remnant of Panichi.

            Lara heard Sam making his way towards her across the slippery mud.  He managed to reach her, and stood next to her and watched the water calm itself down.  Already, the lake was smaller than it had been, with mud quickly accumulating along its shrinking shore. 

            Lara felt a lump in her throat.  This was her fault.  The town of Panichi and the stele that had saved Mason's excavation had both been lost to the earth.  Lara prayed that the huge golden orb that contained the Mayan treasures was still intact underground.  Maybe that could still be excavated.

            As if reading her mind, Sam said, "I'm sure the altar room is fine.  It's made of solid gold, after all.  In a few months, with the proper tools, we can pull it out of the ground.  It will be one of the greatest discoveries in history."  He put his hand on her shoulder.

            "Thank you," Lara said, smiling at him.  Then she laughed.

            "What?" Sam asked, wanting in on the joke.

            "You look like some mud creature from a bad horror movie," Lara said.

            "Well, you don't look like you're ready to go ballroom dancing yourself," Sam shot back.  Lara looked down at herself and saw that he was right.  Her entire body was covered in a layer of mud.

            Lara's heartbeat was almost back to normal.  With her emotions and thoughts under control, she could now look back at the night more objectively.  She had made some stupid mistakes that had nearly cost them their lives, and lost the town of Panichi.  But on the other hand, she had found the location of the Temple of Chac, and had managed to escape from it with her life, which was an incredible feat in itself.  The yak would be proud, she thought to herself.  I stayed alive, did what I set out to do, and have the codex to show for it.

            "The codex!" she shouted frantically.  She now realized that she was no longer carrying her box of flares.  And she had put the codex into the box.

            "You lost it?" cried Sam.  He began turning in circles, looking for it.

            "I took a flare out of my pack just before the hill began to collapse.  I didn't have time to put the box back in my pack before we started running.  I must have dropped it when we were sliding down the hill."  Lara stumbled about in the darkness, looking for her lost box of flares.

            Lara trudged through the mud, searching the ground for any sign of her flare box, knowing it was useless.  It's probably settling on the bottom of the cenote right now, she thought.  How could I drop something so important?  How could I let it be destroyed?

            Destroyed...  Had Chac, a Mayan god, really told her to destroy the codex, or had her vision merely been a dream?  The more she thought about it, the more she believed that it had not been a dream.  Dreams fade as the day goes on, becoming insubstantial, and are usually soon forgotten.  But her dream was not fading.  If anything, it had become clearer to her.  It seemed less a dream and more a... memory.

            But that's crazy, she thought to herself.  Mayan deities weren't real.  They were stories.  Legends that the high priests used to gain greater power over their people.  Weren't they?  She remembered her words from the day before (Or is it two days ago now?  What time is it?) when she had been arguing with Jennie: ...I do like to keep an open mind about such things.  Was she keeping an open mind?  Or was she trying to deny the truth?

            She was so preoccupied with her inner conflict that she almost missed her flare box.  She had been staring at the ground and all of the sudden it was right there in front of her, nestled beneath a stunted bush.

            Lara let out a cry.  "Sam, I found it!"  Sam, who had been searching in another direction, spun around.

            "I can't believe it!" he shouted back as he made his way toward her.  Neither can I, thought Lara.  She stared at the box, not picking it up.  How amazing that I could have dropped it amid that huge mudslide and that it would end up safe and sound, out in the open, right where I was looking for it.  How impossible.  She wondered again about her vision.  Chac had said he couldn't destroy the codex.  Only a person could.  And here was her flare box, in perfect condition, undamaged by the fierceness of the water.  Had Kinich Ahau protected his possession, moved it where she could find it?  Or was it a remarkable coincidence?

            Lara shook herself.  She didn't have time to be thinking about this right now.  She began to crouch down to pick up the box, but was stopped when a bright light was aimed at her face.  Putting her hands up to block the glare, she straightened.  We're in trouble, she thought grimly.

            "Lara?  Sam!  What the hell happened?  What the hell is going on?" Mason demanded.  Lara saw him approaching, along with several other people.  Many other people.  Everyone in both camps heard the noise the hill made, she thought.  Facing Mason's people is going to be awful.  But that's not going to be anything compared to facing the other camp.  Alex is not going to be happy with me.

            As the people swarmed Lara and Sam, she heard gasps of astonishment and cries of anger ring out.  She heard a few people sobbing.  Probably the people who had worked for months, carefully scraping away at the ancient foundations, trying to preserve what little was left of the Mayans.

            Lara stood quietly as people angrily shouted questions and accusations at her and Sam.  She knew that any attempt to respond to them would not be heard, and if it were, would not be listened to.  She waited for the shock and confusion to die down.  It took a while.  It was rather shocking and confusing to discover that a hill covering several acres had disappeared while you were asleep.

            When the noise and the emotional tension had fallen as far she figured they would, she said loudly, "Sam and I entered the Temple of Chac."

            Everyone that heard her went silent, and everyone who had not was silenced by their neighbors.  It was a fragile silence, Lara knew, one that could quickly turn into a riot.

            "We swam in and explored it.  It turns out that it was carved from the rock beneath the hill.  Then—"

            The questions and accusations were thrown at them once again.

            "Sam, how could you?" shouted Mason.  "You've jeopardized the contract!  Even if it's wrong, you still—"

            "You worthless, arrogant, self-centered bitch!" screamed Jennie.  "When I'm through with you—"

            "Lara, why?" Juanita asked her, crying.  "You've ruined everything.  Why?"

            "This is unbelievable!" crowed Jeff.  "Think of the press you'll get!  There is money to be made here.  Lara, we need you to—"

            "What was inside the temple?  What did you find?  What did you find?"  This demand came from Alex.  Lara was not very surprised that this was what mattered to him more than anything else.  She tried to find the short Mayan man in the crowd, but didn't see him.  That did surprise her.  She had thought he would be the first on the scene.

            "Lara..." Mason said.  Lara looked at him.  There was a sadness in his eyes, like he had just had the greatest let down of his life.  Lara couldn't stand to see it.  She looked away.

            "EVERYONE, QUIET!" bellowed Alex.  The talking ceased.  Alex eyes burned into Lara's.  Quietly, carefully, he said, "Lara, what did you find in the temple?"

            Lara's eyes stole a quick glance down at her box of flares, which had gone unnoticed by the mob.  Hastily, she returned her gaze to Alex.  She opened her mouth.  What would she say?  Sam was looking at her.  He hadn't said a word so far.  He was letting her make the call.  The codex belonged to Alex's team.  She needed to tell him about it, and about the other treasures that were still buried.  It was her duty as a respectable archaeologist.  The codex had no powers.  The ritual that was written on it could not stop rain from falling on the world.  There might not even be a ritual written on it!  She hadn't even looked at it yet.  It was a legend.  Nothing more.  A legend.

            Most legends have some basis in truth.  Jennie had said that.  Lara needed to know how much truth.

            "The temple had already been looted," was what came out of her mouth.  "Perhaps it had once been filled with artifacts, but now it's empty.  After looking around, we started to leave, and we triggered a booby trap that destroyed the hill."

            Alex took the news rather well, as if he had been expecting that answer.  He turned to one of his men and said, "Be sure that the police take her into custody.  I have to go talk to someone."  Then he elbowed his way through the crowd, heading back to his camp.  Lara had a feeling that he was going to talk to his Mayan friend, and that the Mayan would not like what he had to say to him.

            "Lara, you're trying to tell us that a booby trap laid centuries ago somehow caused this entire hill to explode?" asked Mason.

            "Not explode.  Implode.  An underground river carved out the inside of the hill, causing it to collapse."

            "You expect us to believe that?  And even if it's true, that still doesn't change the fact that you two triggered it.  If we had sent a real team in there, they might not have set it off."

            "Yes, they would have, and they would all have been killed."

            "How do you know that?"

            Because they, too, would have tried to take the chest.  But she couldn't tell him this without saying that there had been treasures down there.  There were still too many people listening.  She just shook her head.  She could not give him an explanation.  Not here.

            Mason sighed, and turned to Sam.  Just like that, he had dismissed her.  Lara knew their friendship was over.

            "Sam, this was the stupidest thing you have ever done.  I don't care how successful you've been in the past on your little crusades.  You will never hold a job in the field of archaeology again.  You'll be lucky if you can get a job teaching history to high school kids after this."

            Then Mason pushed his way through the crowd, heading back to his own camp.  Juanita followed him, wiping away her tears.  Juanita looked back at them for a moment, then hurried after Mason.  Mason did not look back.

            Lara heard the sirens that told her that the police were here, ready to take her and Sam into custody.  She toyed with the idea of making a break for it, but trapped as she was by this mob of people, she would have no chance of escaping.  And she really didn't want to.

            The police forced their way to Sam and Lara.  They stripped her of her weapons and pack, and Sam of his knife and equipment.  She felt the handcuffs encircle her wrists.  Lara did not put up any fight.  Why should she?  She had brought this upon herself.  Even if she were not locked up in jail for the rest of her life, she would never be allowed into academic circles again.  She would never be able to study the ancient world again.  She had lost her greatest joy.

            As she was forced through the crowd toward the waiting police cars, Jennie somehow managed to get next to her, close enough to her that she could whisper into her ear.

            "You are scum," she hissed.  "You have destroyed everything we have worked for.  All of your scholarly interviews, all of your scientific speeches, all of your best-selling books, they were all lies.  You're not an archaeologist.  You're not interested in the rediscovery of ancient cultures and practices.  You are nothing more than a tomb raider.  A thief of ancient treasures.  A defiler of forgotten wisdom.  And one day, you will lie in your own tomb, and no one will care."

            Jennie's words dripped of acid, seared Lara's mind.  Lara could not believe the vehemence with which the woman hissed those words into her ear.  Lara knew now that Jennie considered her lower than the worst of murderers.  For she had not done something as simple as killing a living person.  She had wiped the last traces of the long dead from existence, and what crime could possibly be greater than that?  Could be worse than the destruction of a memory?

            The police forced her on, away from Jennie.  Lara was thankful.  She could not have taken any more of her poisonous words.  Lara's heart ached.  She had let everyone down.  Jennie was right.  If Lara were to die, none of these people would mourn her.

            That last thought made Lara stop in her tracks.  Death.  She had been thinking about death.  Here she was, alive and well, after one of the closest calls of her life, and she was thinking of death.  The yak would be disappointed.  The yak would never have given up.

            Anger flared inside of Lara.  I'm not going to give up that easily, she thought.  I know that Alex is up to something, and I am going to find out what.  If I can prove that Alex was going to do something illegal with those artifacts, then I'll no longer be the bad guy.  And then I can tell Mason about the artifacts still in the altar room.  And about the codex.

            The codex.  It was still lying in the mud, waiting for someone to pick it up.  As the police shoved her and Sam into the cars, Lara made a decision.

            I'm going to get away from the police.  I'm going to get the codex back.  After I study it, I'll decide whether or not it is dangerous.  Then, I'm going to find Alex, and make him tell me why he is more worried about treasure than archaeology, and why he needs to have gunmen surrounding his camp.  And who that Mayan man really is.

            The police car started down the road, carrying her and Sam toward the nearest police station.  Lara turned and stared at the lights of the camps until they were out of sight.

            I'm not a tomb raider, Jennie.  I'm an archaeologist.  And I will prove it to you.

                                                            *            *            *

            Uaxahpu waited patiently for Alex to quit shouting.  He had been raving at him like a lunatic for the past ten minutes.

            "All of that money wasted, Uaxahpu!  Millions of dollars to obtain rights to this dig, and we have nothing to show for it!  Not one artifact!"  Alex was panting now, trying to catch his breath.  Uaxahpu saw murder in his eyes.  And with a man like Alex, that meant that the murder was not far off.

            "Alex—" Uaxahpu started, before being cut off by another of Alex's tirades.  Uaxahpu sighed and waited for him to finish.  When he had, Uaxahpu jumped in quickly, before Alex could start again.

            "Alex, the woman was lying.  I saw her as she was being forced into the police car.  Her eyes had had a defeated look when the police were dragging her away, but she suddenly changed when they put her in the car.  She hasn't given up.  She must have the codex."

            "The police searched her and the man.  Neither of them had it."

            "Then they managed to hide it before they were caught.  Listen, Alex.  I spoke to Kinich Ahau tonight.  He said—"  Alex turned away in disgust as he always did when he believed Uaxahpu was spouting foolishness.  Uaxahpu continued anyway.  "He said that Chac has chosen this woman to be his warrior on earth, has commanded her to destroy the codex.  He also said that she has not done so yet.  So we still have time."

            Alex faced him again.  "I don't believe a word of your crazy Mayan beliefs.  The sun is not a god.  It's giant ball of gas undergoing nuclear fusion.  Why should I believe that the Temple of Kinich Ahau exists?  And even if it does, what makes you think that it has not been looted yet?  I'm a black market artifact dealer, Uaxahpu.  I don't give a damn about rituals.  All I care about is gold, silver, and jewels.  And all of the money I can get for them."

            "But Alex," said Uaxahpu quietly, "if the Temple of Chac exists, why not the Temple of Kinich Ahau?"  Uaxahpu waited for Alex to digest this point of view.

            Alex mulled it over for a moment.  Then he spoke.  "Okay, so the temple itself probably exists.  But it was probably looted centuries ago, like this one."

            "We don't know that this temple was looted, Alex.  We only know what that woman told us."  This stopped Alex for a moment.  Apparently he hadn't considered the possibility that Miss Croft might want to lie to them.  Seeing an opening, Uaxahpu hurried on.  "Very likely, she was lying to us.  Because if the codex was down there, then there were probably other artifacts down there."

            "But I still don't believe that the codex was down there," Alex said.  He was not yelling anymore.  He was listening to what Uaxahpu was saying.  I almost have him, Uaxahpu thought triumphantly.  He didn't let the emotion show on his face.

            "Okay, supposing that Miss Croft did hide the codex before we got to her, how will we find it?" Alex asked.  "The dig site is a giant mud hole."

            "We don't need to.  Just have men hiding around, prepared to follow Miss Croft when she returns for it.  She will lead us to it."

            "Miss Croft is in jail, Uaxahpu.  How is she supposed to lead us to the codex from her prison cell?"

            Once more, I am in command, Uaxahpu thought happily.  Alex, you may think you're in charge, but you're merely a puppet whose strings I control.  I will make you dance for me.  And when I am done playing, I will discard you.

            "Miss Croft will not remain in jail for long, Alex.  She is a fighter.  I assure you, by dawn we will have Miss Croft and the Codex of Kinich Ahau's Fury."  And by the end of the week, thought Uaxahpu, the whole world will face the wrath of Kinich Ahau.

                                                            *            *            *

            Televisions and radios blared warnings throughout the Caribbean.  MONSTER HURRICANE!  BOARD UP YOUR WINDOWS!  PREPARE FOR EVACUATION!  People rushed to stores to buy supplies.  Supermarkets sold out on bread and water in a matter of hours.  Roads were clogged with families rushing to get further inland.  No one knew for sure where the hurricane was headed.  It could always change course, and nobody wanted to be caught in the path of this storm.  News flashes spoke of the incredible power of the hurricane.  Reports spoke of the never-before-seen wind speeds, the incredible amount of rainfall that was anticipated, the tide surges that were expected to wash away entire shorelines.  People that stayed in their homes, playing the odds that the storm wouldn't come their way, were glued to their televisions.  Many breathed a sigh of relief when the meteorologists gave their prediction of the storm's course.  It was not coming to the U.S.  Others were terrified.  They had relatives and friends on vacation in the tropical paradise that the hurricane was going to strike.  The airports around Cancun were mobbed by people trying to get on flights home before the storm hit.  Because all of the world's most sophisticated meteorological equipment had reached the same conclusion.  The hurricane was heading for Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula.