Abigail turned to Riley. “There are possibly booby-traps.”

  He nodded. “I thought as much. Any in particular we should look out for?”

  Abigail shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t have a clue, to be honest. I simply brought it up as a possibility. If this is where Croesus stored the bulk of his treasure, then it would make sense it was guarded in some way by something other than people. His wealth was legendary and he wouldn’t have left it unguarded.”

  “This is the location Professor Briggs indicated,” Riley said. “We’ll look for the entrance to the cave now. Abigail, stick close to me. Let’s keep each other in sight at all times.”

  Abigail looked around. To her left, the valley fell away to the Pactolus River, where the mythological King Midas was said to have washed away his gold. In front of her stood a hill of significant height. Some of it was impassable, but the passable section was nevertheless steep and rocky. She could see tracks left by goats.

  “I don’t need to tell you that the entrance to the tunnel won’t be obvious,” Riley said.

  Abigail hoped Jason and Professor Briggs had been right about the location. She didn’t fancy spending a few hours wandering around, looking for a tunnel entrance. Ellis and Thatcher shimmied up the rocks at some speed whereas Abigail went far more slowly. She was fit and jogged most mornings, but she couldn’t match the agents for speed and strength.

  Riley helped her gain footholds as they scrambled from one boulder to another. It was hard going and soon Abigail was fighting for breath. She didn’t want to look down but every now and then risked a glance. She would certainly do herself a terrible injury if she fell, although the going wasn’t too steep. She just had to watch where she put her feet.

  Ellis and Thatcher both disappeared around the edge of a boulder, earning a grunt of disapproval from Riley.

  Abigail jumped as a scream echoed around the hills.

  23

  SARDIS: UNDER THE ACROPOLIS NORTH

  Thatcher climbed toward them over a boulder. “Ellis fell!”

  “Stay there,” Riley said to Abigail, seconds before he vanished over the boulder with Thatcher.

  Abigail stood there shaking. Was Ellis all right? And if someone as capable as Ellis had fallen, would she? Had a Vortex agent shot him? Were Vortex agents out there now, watching them at this very minute? Or maybe Ellis was a Vortex agent and had gone to report what they were doing to Vortex.

  She sat down on the dirt and clutched a large rock with both hands, shutting her eyes tightly.

  She had no idea how long she sat there, but finally she heard Riley’s voice, “Abigail.”

  She opened her eyes. “Ellis?”

  “We can’t find him. We can’t see any sign of him.”

  Abigail was shocked. “How is that possible?”

  Riley shrugged. “He must’ve fallen into a crevice.”

  Thatcher was standing behind Riley. “I wasn’t watching him when he fell. He’d gotten ahead of me. I only heard him scream and when I looked around, he wasn’t there.”

  “What do we do now?” Abigail said. “Do we climb down and look for him?”

  Riley shook his head. “He’s likely at the bottom of a crevice. There’s nothing we can do and we didn’t see him at the bottom of the hill. We’ll just have to keep going.”

  “He wouldn’t have survived the fall,” Thatcher added, “so there is no urgency to find his body.”

  Abigail thought that was a callous thing to say, but she kept her opinions to herself.

  Riley took Abigail’s arm and said, “Hurry. For all we know, Ellis was shot. We have to keep moving.”

  Abigail’s stomach clenched. She had thought of that possibility. That would explain why he fell. Maybe the Vortex agents had taken his body.

  She kept climbing, higher and higher, spurred on by the thought she might be shot, when Riley said, “There.”

  Behind a large boulder Abigail saw the entrance to a tunnel. Given that it could only be seen at that angle, it was well hidden.

  “Go in first,” Riley instructed Thatcher.

  Thatcher dropped to his hands and knees to crawl inside the small opening between the boulders. He disappeared from view. Moments later, he stuck his head out. “It’s quite big in here.” He reached out to his backpack and pulled it inside.

  Riley went next and then waved his hand out the door, signaling for Abigail to go in. She steeled herself to crawl through the narrow space but once inside, was relieved to see the cavern before her was large. To her left was a pile of rubble no doubt caused by a previous earthquake. She expected the cave to smell musty and moldy, but the air was fresh and clear, with no scent.

  Riley already had his flashlight from his backpack and was shining it over the walls. Abigail saw a little stream of running water to her left and wondered if the running water kept the cave air odorless.

  “Professor Briggs was right,” Riley said. “There is indeed a tunnel. How on earth would he have discovered this place?”

  “Probably from ancient texts,” Abigail said. “The ancient Athenian soldier, Xenophon, mentions an altar to Artemis in the time of Cyrus.” She would have said more, but Thatcher interrupted her.

  “But we know about the Temple of Artemis at Sardis. We passed it on the way here.”

  Abigail shook her head. “Not a temple, an altar. No one has ever found the altar. Maybe Professor Briggs was looking for it. At any rate, he found the bones near the tunnel entrance.”

  Thatcher shone his flashlight over some boulders. “There’s another tunnel there.”

  Abigail and Riley hurried over to inspect it.

  “It does look like this tunnel goes for a fair way as far as I can tell.” Thatcher cracked a chem light and threw it into the tunnel. “Hmm, just as I thought,” he muttered to himself.

  Abigail had hoped she would be able to stand upright in the tunnels but no, it was just as she had feared. She would need to crawl. The Harvard expeditions had discovered Roman tunnels of this size running under the burial mounds in Sardis. Still, she had hoped for bigger tunnels under the Acropolis North given that Lydians had built these tunnels.

  Riley placed his hands on Abigail’s shoulders. “Now, it’s the same as when we were in Greece. Remember what I said? I’ll go first and if the tunnel gets too narrow, you can always back out. Are you all right with that?”

  “Yes,” Abigail said in a small voice, although she was anything but all right. She liked closed-in spaces even less than she liked heights. Still, she had no choice but to follow Riley and Thatcher.

  Riley pressed the car keys into her hands. “Put these in your pocket.”

  A fresh wave of terror hit Abigail. Did that mean Riley thought he might not get out of there alive? She trembled violently.

  As she stuffed the keys deep in her pocket, she felt something strange in the lining. “What’s this?” She pulled off her jacket and handed it to Riley.

  Riley picked up a piece of jagged rock and ripped the jacket open, producing a tiny black box. “It’s a tracking device. It must have been in your jacket the whole time. Who had access to your jacket? That is, since we left your college?”

  Abigail thought for a moment. “No one.”

  Thatcher hurried over to them. “Berat must have sewn it in when he abducted you.” To Riley, he said, “Berat must have intended to let her go so she could lead him to the treasure. It was his plan all along.” He took it from Riley and crushed it under his boot. The two men exchanged glances. “That means he’s on his way,” Thatcher added, “with explosives. We have to hurry. Abigail, put on the goggles.”

  She did as he said, and blinked several times in succession. Everything looked spooky almost, a funny shade of green, but at least she could see.

  The rock was cold and dark. Thatcher was already making his way along the tunnel. Abigail crawled as fast as she could, trying to escape the waves of claustrophobia that struck her, scared Riley would go too fast and leave her behind. She was also afraid the rocks would suddenly give way and she would plunge to her death into a bottomless pit. She knew it was an illogical fear, but it was a fear, nonetheless. And what if there was an earthquake? She would be crushed or trapped there forever. Her brow broke out into a cold sweat.

  Abigail tried some self-talk to calm herself. The tunnel wasn’t getting any narrower. In fact, it seemed as though it was getting wider. Maybe the Temple of Artemis was directly ahead. Still, that was no small comfort because it was underground. At that moment, Abigail wanted to be on the surface more than anything else.

  Suddenly, Riley’s boots vanished. Before she had time to panic, his hand reached for her. She crawled into another cavern, a smaller one this time, but at least it was bigger than the tunnel. Abigail trembled violently.

  Riley put his arm around her and held her close. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she lied. She was glad he couldn’t see her face because then he would see just how frightened she was. He squeezed her tightly and then released her.

  Diagonally opposite them to the right was a bigger tunnel than the one they had just crawled from. This one looked man-made. Thatcher made for the tunnel, but Riley put out a restraining hand. “There’s an inscription above it. What does it say, Abigail?”

  She walked up and shone her flashlight over it. “It appears to be a bilingual inscription: Lydian with a translation into Greek. I can’t translate the Lydian without a lexicon, but the Greek says,

  ‘Beware. All who enter here to steal the gold are cursed.’”

  “A curse?” Thatcher said. “That explains why the locals were too afraid to proceed.”

  “Curses have never prevented grave robbers over history from looting,” Abigail pointed out.

  Riley agreed. “I don’t think anyone has gone past the first tunnel that we just came through in centuries. If your professor didn’t do it, then I doubt anybody else would. Obviously, no one made the connection with the subterranean Temple of Artemis and the treasure of Croesus.”

  “Well, let’s go into that tunnel. What are we waiting for?” Thatcher asked, eagerness evident in his voice. “The treasure could be just ahead of us.”

  “Not so fast,” Riley said. “It could be booby-trapped. Are you sure there’s not a deeper meaning to that inscription?”

  “Not as far as I know,” Abigail said. “I think it’s safe to proceed.”

  “You think?” Thatcher said. “Then maybe you should go first.”

  “You’re going first,” Riley said roughly. “On your way.”

  Thatcher muttered something Abigail couldn’t hear and then disappeared into the tunnel.

  The next thing Abigail heard was a shriek.

  24

  SARDIS: UNDER THE ACROPOLIS NORTH

  Riley pulled Abigail away as bats flew past her face. She could have cried with relief. She wasn’t overly fond of cave-dwelling bats, but they were far preferable to Vortex agents.

  Abigail realized she was clinging to Riley and he made no attempt to let her go.

  “It was only bats,” Thatcher called back to them, somewhat unnecessarily.

  Riley released Abigail. He ducked into the tunnel and Abigail followed him. She shone her flashlight over the rough-hewn walls to get a better look than the night vision goggles afforded her. “Surely this must lead somewhere significant, maybe the temple,” she told Riley. Her words echoed strangely.

  “I thought as much,” he said.

  The temperature dropped as she crawled onward. If only she was back in her comfortable bed, or even giving a lecture—anywhere that was safe. She took a deep breath and forced herself to crawl further. Her knees were beginning to hurt. How far had she come? A hundred feet? More? She was completely disoriented with nothing around her but artificial green gloom, and the only sounds being her own breathing and shuffling sounds made by Riley and Thatcher.

  Abigail heard Thatcher gasp and then Riley reached back and helped her into what she at first thought was a cave.

  She stood up. She heard chem lights crack and shut her eyes at the ensuing blinding white light.

  Abigail removed her goggles. She was struck speechless at the sight before her.

  Directly in front of her were two large golden hippocampuses flanking the steps to an imposing marble-clad Temple of Artemis towering above her. She looked up in awe at the ancient building. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it,” she said over and over again.

  Riley and Thatcher seemed equally shocked.

  Abigail, of course, had never seen a temple in its original state. She had only see ruins. Her eyes roamed over the giant marble columns. “It’s an Ionic design the same as the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Thatcher asked her.

  “Well, I mean not a Doric or Corinthian order,” she told him. “The Ionic columns were more graceful than the Doric, and incorporated friezes of continuous sculptural relief.”

  She shone her flashlight over the friezes way above her head.

  “So the treasure would be inside?” Thatcher asked her. “And look at those golden animals!” His flashlight traveled over the golden hippocampuses.

  Abigail hurried to a column. “Look at the oak leaves and acorns on this column and snail scorpions and salamanders!” She was beside herself with excitement. It was just like going back in time over two and a half thousand years. No one in modern times had seen such a sight.

  “Abigail, there’s an inscription on the column,” Riley said urgently. “Do you think it’s referring to booby-traps?”

  Abigail bent to peer at the writing, which was in Greek not Lydian. “No, those will just be the donors of the columns,” she said. “It was common practice to record the donors’ names on the columns.”

  “Do you think there are booby-traps?” Thatcher asked her.

  “It’s always possible,” Abigail said. “I mean, this is a Greek temple, but Croesus wasn’t Greek. Sure, he funded the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, and like I said earlier, Xenophon mentioned an altar of Artemis from that time period, so maybe Croesus did follow the cult of Artemis. We know for certain that he made offerings to the Greek god, Apollo, at Delphi. There are no known booby-traps in Greek temples, but given that inscriptions with new information are being discovered all the time, maybe one day they’ll find inscriptions saying there were booby-traps in Greek temples.”

  “In that case, we will have to proceed carefully,” Riley said. “Does this look like a standard Temple of Artemis to you, Abigail?”

  “I’ve only seen them in ruins, of course,” she said. “But yes, it does fit with the descriptions of other Temples of Artemis.”

  “In what section of their temples did they keep the treasure?” Thatcher persisted.

  Abigail shook her head. Thatcher was just like one of her students, more interested in treasure than in ancient cultures and their social history. To Abigail, history was treasure. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “Temples typically weren’t used for storage of mega amounts of treasure, but any treasure was normally kept in the opisthodomos.”

  “What are the sections of the temple?” Riley asked her.

  “Sacrifice was always performed outside. People entered the temple through the columns into the vestibule, and behind the vestibule is the cella. Behind that is the cult statue of Artemis. Behind that is the opisthodomos and behind, that the posticum.”

  “English please,” Thatcher said.

  Abigail shrugged. Her eyes were still smarting from the brilliant white light after being so long in the tunnel. “No one knows for sure due to ritual secrecy. Sometimes the opisthodomos was the treasury although sometimes the word referred to the inner shrine. The posticum was the portico at the back, although sometimes the opisthodomos and the posticum were one and the same. The cella often included an adyton to house the statue, although adyta often also held sacred items.”

  “You really don’t have a clue where the treasure would be held, do you?” Thatcher said, a snarky tone creeping into his voice. “It sounds as though you’re just as confused as I am.”

  Abigail frowned. Thatcher was certainly departing from his previous pleasant demeanour. Before she could respond, he added, “I suppose you won’t know unless we proceed. If it is booby-trapped, what sort of booby-traps could there be?”

  “Could be anything. Could you get that flashlight out of my eyes?” She wondered why he was still using it when the chem lights illuminated the area so strongly.

  “Sorry,” Thatcher said, although his tone suggested he was anything but sorry. “These golden winged creatures must be worth an absolute fortune, a king’s ransom in fact!” His voice rose to a high pitch. “I wonder how we’ll ever get them out of here? Maybe we’ll have to enlarge the tunnels, or maybe the roof of this cavern is close to the surface and we can drill. Have there been any earthquakes in recent times?”

  “There was the big one in 17 AD. The Roman historian, Tacitus, reported that people were swallowed by the earth opening up. It was a massive earthquake, with the ground levels being significantly displaced and fires everywhere. There was no warning and it came at night. It affected twelve cities over eastern Turkey, but Sardis was the worst affected. This temple this has obviously survived it,” Abigail added.

  She was not at all happy with the thought of anyone removing the golden hippocampuses or doing anything to the temple. This was an archeological delight, an incredibly rare, preserved precious piece of ancient architecture. In that regard, it was priceless, even if it hadn’t contained any gold.

  “All right, let’s proceed. Be careful, and Abigail, you stick close to me,” Riley said. “Let’s shine our flashlights over every dark place in case there are inscriptions warning of booby-traps. We can’t be too careful.”

  Abigail agreed. “The Lydians built this, and we know very little about them. Maybe they did have booby-traps. Other cultures had things like streams of mercury, poisonous gas, steps that would give way to chasms, as well as the deadly mercury sulfide powder,” Abigail cautioned them. “I wonder if we could throw rocks ahead of us to see if they trigger something. Of course, we would have to be careful that we don’t damage anything.”