“And what if someone doesn’t come?”

  Riley was thinking the same thing, but he dared not voice his fears aloud. He shook the thought away and put his hand on her arm. “I’m going to try climbing along the fissure. You can wait here, or go back and hide near the entrance. You’ll need to turn off your flashlight and feel your way to the entrance. We can’t risk Stark knowing where you are.”

  “I’m coming too. I’m not staying here alone.”

  Abigail eyed the pathway with trepidation. It was wide enough to be safe, but Riley had nearly fallen to his death only moments earlier.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Abigail could not see Riley’s face in the pervading darkness. “Yes.” She realized her hands were pressed into his chest. She removed them, embarrassed.

  “It’s slippery just before we get to the stones. Take it very slowly. Don’t let go of my hand.” He clasped her hand tightly.

  Abigail crept along the pathway, Riley’s hand steadying her. She could not resist a glimpse into the abyss. It was terrifying enough in the gloom; by flashlight, it was even more chilling.

  Riley stopped. “This is the slippery part. Hold on tight.”

  Abigail didn’t need telling twice. She clung to Riley’s hand and forced herself to breathe evenly. One slip, and… She didn’t want to think about it.

  Abigail could have cried with relief when they were safely on the rocky ledge. “Thank you, Lord.”

  “What did you say?”

  Abigail allowed herself a small chuckle. “I was thanking God.”

  “You and me both.”

  They both fell silent and looked at the stones. Abigail shook her head. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it,” she said. Could these really be the Urim and Thummim? She turned to Riley. Her eyes were now growing accustomed to the dark, and the glow from the fissure fell on the side of Riley’s face. “How do we stop Stark?”

  “We have to get out of here first,” he said. “Let’s go. Abigail, there’s a chance the passageway will become too tight and we’ll have to back out.”

  “That’s fine.” Of course, it wouldn’t be fine, but Abigail allowed herself a small glimmer of hope. At least a deep gloom had replaced the total blackness.

  The crevice was narrow, and a steep scramble over large boulders at once confronted them. The space constricted, forcing them to crawl. Abigail prayed she wouldn’t have to crawl through a tight space. Still, Riley was much bigger than she and he was ahead. There was no chance she would get stuck.

  A flurry of dust and pebbles rolled down. Abigail hoped it was from Riley’s movement and not signaling the beginnings of a cave-in. As they climbed, the air grew marginally warmer. Abigail hoped it indicated they were nearing the surface, but the fissure became narrower the more they climbed.

  A sharp rock fell on her hand, making her cry out.

  Riley at once turned back. “You’re hurt.”

  Abigail looked at her hand as Riley’s flashlight traveled over it. “Not much blood,” she said. A wave of nausea hit her. She knew it was from the fear, not the injury. She wanted to get to the surface as quickly as possible. Her imagination was in overdrive. Her thoughts ran through a gamut of dire possibilities: of falling onto jagged stones, the rocks above collapsing on her, the ground opening up and plunging her into an abyss that reached toward the earth’s core. Her sole comfort was in prayer.

  “It narrows ahead. Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Abigail said.

  After what seemed an age, the glow grew brighter. Riley increased his speed, and so did Abigail, scurrying over the scree, no longer caring if her shins hit the damp rock or that her hands were bleeding.

  Suddenly, Riley disappeared from view.

  Abigail lunged forward and saw he was standing. Relief hit her hard. She crouched back against the damp rock, gulping in the fresh air. The filtered light through the bushes was bright enough to hurt her eyes. Her legs ached; every muscle cramped painfully. She shivered and Riley put his arm around her.

  Riley’s mouth brushed her ear. “There are just bushes over us. I’ll go first and help you out. I have no idea where it will be. Are you ready to run? We’ll need to take cover at once.”

  Abigail nodded weakly.

  Riley hauled himself up on a rocky outcrop and burst through the bushes.

  Abigail jumped when she heard Stark’s voice. The cold reality came crashing down on her. They were besieged. Stark now knew of both entrances, and the help Riley had said was coming had not arrived. Maybe it never would.

  Abigail felt as though she would pass out. Panic struck her again. She broke into a cold sweat. Would Stark shoot them on the spot?

  “I haven’t got the stones,” she heard Riley say to Stark.

  Abigail gasped.

  “What happened?” Stark’s voice was controlled.

  “There was a ledge on the way to the stones. There was a bobby trap. Dr. Spencer fell to her death.”

  “Then you are no longer needed, Riley.”

  Abigail sucked in a breath. She stepped into the light of the grotto and looked up, just in time to see Stark raise his gun.

  14

  She called out.

  “Abigail! Get back!” Riley’s tone was urgent.

  “I didn’t fall far,” she called up, playing along with Riley’s story. “I fell onto a ledge. We can go back and try again.”

  “Get her out, Worth!”

  Rough hands reached in and pulled her out of the grotto. She lay on the grass, blinking in the harsh sunlight and then scrambled to her feet.

  Abigail surveyed her surroundings. She was not far from the cliff edge. No doubt Stark had heard approaching the exit. Voices would carry on the breeze out here, and the only other sound to be heard was the occasional cry of a seabird.

  Stark lowered his gun and frowned. Abigail figured he knew he was being played and was weighing up his options.

  Suddenly, a seagull screeched.

  Men appeared from out of nowhere. “Drop your weapons,” a deep voice said.

  Abigail expected Stark to spin around, but he did not. She supposed it was his training. He raised his hands and held out his gun. Someone moved swiftly and took it from him.

  It was over in seconds. The men handcuffed Stark and Worth and escorted them away.

  “You took your time,” Riley said to the man standing next to him, although there was a note of good humor in his tone.

  The man gave him a half nod. “Only two of them here?”

  “Affirmative. But you’ll need to clean up the other location. I’ll give you the details. This is Dr. Abigail Spencer,” Riley said. “Stark abducted her.”

  “On his crazy treasure hunt?”

  Riley nodded. “Sure. He forced us to go into that cave because he thought it was booby trapped and there was treasure inside. The cave’s empty.”

  Abigail’s head spun. Clearly Riley wasn’t going to tell them about the Urim and Thummim—if indeed that’s what they were. No one had ever reported precisely what the Urim and Thummim looked like. For all she knew the stones in the cave could have been fakes. She would never know.

  But she didn’t mind. If they were the Urim and Thummim, then they were safe. Maybe they did belong in a museum, but if Vortex and Stark had been willing to go to such lengths, then she thought it was better if they remained undiscovered, at least for now.

  15

  Abigail was back in her office the following Saturday. So much had happened in the week. Mary Yoder and her family were none the worse for wear and oblivious to the threat.

  Abigail’s heart gave a little thrill when she thought of Riley. She said to her potted peace lily, “You’ve only known him like what? All of five minutes? And you keep thinking about him? You’ll never see him again.”

  Just then there was a knock on her door. Surely not a student on a Saturday. “Come in.” She swiveled around her chair.

  Her jaw dropped open. There was Riley, looking more handsome than ever. The bruises had subsided and the gash on his temple had all but healed.

  He came in and shut the door behind him. “I’ve been back to the location, and I sealed both entrances,” he said. “I think it’s better if only the two of us know about it.”

  Is that the only reason he came? She shook her head to quell her disappointment and said, “That’s great. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “That’s not the only reason I’m here.”

  Abigail’s heart beat a little faster.

  “I’m in charge of the unit now.”

  “What unit?” she said.

  He smiled at her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He chuckled.

  Abigail waited patiently for him to continue. She’d lost a little of her humor over the past week.

  “It’s a government agency with plausible deniability. We investigate particular artefacts of international significance.”

  “I see. Like the Urim and Thummim.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Exactly. And since you’re about to sign the official secrets act,”—he slid a bunch of papers across her desk—“how would you feel about being a consultant for the agency?”

  Abigail’s eyes lit up. “A consultant? What would it involve?”

  “No booby traps, I hope. These matters do come up from time to time, more frequently than you might think. We could do with a Greek and Latin scholar, and you’ve already shown you’re resourceful in a tight situation.”

  “It does sound intriguing.”

  “You would be working closely with me.”

  Abigail smiled. “I’m in.”

  Scroll

  Relic Hunters Taskforce Book 1

  FACT

  “As Rich as Croesus”

  This book is based on fact—the treasure of Croesus of Lydia. Croesus lived in Sardis, an incredibly wealthy city. Sardis is one of the cities mentioned in the Seven Churches of Asia in the Book of Revelation.

  Croesus was indeed wealthy. Sardis stood alongside the Pactolus River which was rich in gold deposits. No one has ever found the Croesus treasure, apart from a few items. The robbery of some of those items is recounted accurately in this book. The Croesus treasure would be worth billions.

  Teams from Harvard and Cornell universities have been excavating at Sardis for years, but the site is huge and the going is slow.

  All descriptions of Ephesus, Sardis, Pergamon/Pergamum, Selcuk, Oxford, and other locations, whether ancient or modern, are accurate.

  The famous copper scroll, 3Q15, is one of the Dead Sea Scrolls discovered in 1952 at Qumran. However, the copper scroll of this book is fictional.

  The history mentioned in this book is accurate, but the underground Temple of Artemis and the Lydian copper scroll are fictional.

  There is no Temple of Artemis under the Acropolis North at Sardis—not as far as I know! Nobody knows what, if anything, is there.

  There do exist several exposed sections of the tunnel that connected the Acropolis North with the dry stream-bed which once ran between ByzFort and Field 49.

  Roman tunnels dug by tomb robbers under a burial mound have been discovered. It is thought the tunnels run to the chamber of a member of the Lydian royal family. Archeologists have dug over one hundred meters of tunnels but have not yet discovered the chamber.

  1

  LYDIA, 546 B.C.

  Gordias looked over his shoulder. They were closing on him. He clutched the bag of electrum coins to his chest.

  He was close now, so close he could almost taste the gold.

  For a minute he hesitated, weighing up his options. Did he have time to reach the tunnel? Maybe it would be better to lead the others away even though that would mean his certain death. His mission was to keep the treasure safe.

  He ducked behind a boulder and looked at his pursuers.

  No, they were far enough away. He would reach the tunnel without discovery.

  He took another deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. His throat hurt and he could taste blood but was aware it was purely from the exhaustion. He was uninjured, for now at least. Gordias knew they wouldn’t be able to track him over the rubble and the rocky pathway made by wild mountain goats.

  As he lowered the bag of coins, he heard a noise.

  Gordias ducked under a bush as a mountain goat scurried past him. Whoever was closing in on him had frightened the goat.

  His only weapon was a knife, and his pursuers were bigger and stronger than he. Besides, he was vastly outnumbered, apart from the one pursuer who was rapidly closing in.

  Gordias silently shuffled backward under the bush. As he did so, some scree tumbled down the rock face directly above him. It was the goat, but maybe his pursuer didn’t know that. He held his breath as the man’s legs came into view, as did his short sword swinging from his belt beside his left thigh. Gordias gazed on the man’s ostentatious clothing with disapproval: multi-colored long pants and a bright purple and crimson cloak.

  The pursuer’s pace quickened and he hurried along the path to the left from where the rockfall had come.

  Gordias sighed with relief. He wished to go to the right. It would be a while before his pursuer realized he was chasing a goat, if he ever did. Gordias held his breath and inched out carefully, in case the other Persians were closer. Behind the shelter of a tree, he looked out over the landscape once more. Now he couldn’t see them, but he couldn’t hear them either and he was certain they hadn’t made up much ground. Their fancy clothes would prove a hindrance over the rocks.

  With that, he hunched over and ran to the right as fast as his burden of treasure would allow him.

  It was dusk now, the time of day in which it is hardest to see. Still, he knew that would hinder his pursuers as much as it would hinder him and the tunnel entrance was well hidden. He had made himself a camp at the entrance to the tunnel, a rough bed of leaves and a stash of supplies: figs, grapes, and apples, and some now-stale bread. He even had a column krater filled with wine. Lydian soldiers were as prepared as the Persians were flamboyant. A trickle of water ran down a rock and pooled at the bottom. He could live there for a while if he could catch small game from time to time.

  Gordias knew the route to the entrance well, being one of the guards entrusted by Croesus himself. The Persians wouldn’t find him there.

  His king, Croesus, had retreated from the battle on the eastern bank of the Pactolus River to the impenetrable fortress at Sardis. Sadly, the acropolis turned out to be not so impenetrable, not in the face of Cyrus the Great and the mighty Persian army. They had taken Croesus, maybe even killed him. Just before the Persian army captured the acropolis, Gordias and other soldiers were sent to ascertain whether the Persians had discovered the treasure in various locations. Gordias was to make sure the biggest stockpile of all was safe.

  Gordias’s thoughts turned to his situation. He was grateful to the goat. Maybe it had saved his life. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he turned by a yellow-flowering shrub and rounded the corner.

  As he made to climb over a boulder, the ground shook. Surely it wasn’t an earthquake? Gordias had experienced slight earth tremors, but this seemed stronger. Besides, it wasn’t as if the ground was shaking—it was as if the very air around him was shaking.

  Maybe that’s why the birds had been conspicuous by their absence that afternoon. Gordias heard some rocks fall and hoped they were falling on his pursuers. Still, he was sure they had all gone in the wrong direction, but more would come. What was he to do? He needed help and no help was coming. The mighty Lydian Empire had fallen.

  Gordias approached his destination. Now he had to climb what appeared to be a vertical rock face and then he would be in the cave. He pulled himself up, reaching for the handholds he knew to be there and then threw himself onto the ledge. He looked around to make sure he hadn’t been seen before rolling into the cave.

  Gordias shimmied inside backward and then stood. He deposited his bag on the ground before stretching his shoulders and arms, sore from the burden. He lowered the bag of coins and smiled widely.

  He was still shaking from his narrow escape but was hungry. He reached for a handful of figs and stuffed them in his mouth. That’s when the rumbling came again.

  There was a loud sound like thunder and it was as if the walls were leaning toward Gordias, closing in on him. He put his hands above his head as he heard rocks falling. Gordias threw himself back against the rock wall, terrified, as everything continued to shake.

  Boulders fell past the entrance to the cave and one landed on the ledge, blocking most of the light.

  Gordias looked up as the cavern roof fell on top of him.

  2

  THE PRESENT DAY

  OXFORD

  Professor Jason Hobbs slunk along the walls of the ancient Bodleian Library, looking over his shoulder in fear. His destination: the Rare Books and Manuscripts Reading Room in the Duke Humfrey’s Library.

  A Professor of Iron Age Greece and Anatolia, Hobbs had been in Oxford only a few days and had taken a room in the Old Bank Hotel, a short walk from the Bodleian Library. He had engaged in a spot of sightseeing to throw whomever was following him off the track. For three days, he had traipsed through the Ashmolean Museum, the Botanic Gardens, and Christ Church College where scenes from Harry Potter were filmed and where Henry George Liddell, known to most as the father of the inspiration for Alice in Wonderland but known to Hobbs as a celebrated ancient Greek lexicographer, was Dean more than a century earlier.

  He flattened himself against the walls and held his breath. The footsteps echoing softly along the corridor stopped. Just as he feared, someone was following him now. Hobbs waited, the only sound being the beating of his heart.