The strongest would indeed prevail, and he would make sure of it.

  What Benedix needed was another accomplice. Benedix and Edgewood had been sleeping together ever since they’d met, and Benedix firmly believed he’d convinced her to take part in his nefarious scheme. In wooing the delightfully naïve–and not to mention, attractive–Kate Edgewood, he’d taken the first step. He thought Edgewood was oblivious to being used as a mere pawn in his game, believing she was infatuated by him, a handsome, confident scholar.

  But Edgewood wasn’t as naïve as he thought, and she had her own agendas. Needs must, she knew, and she had skillfully forged a friendship with many mutual benefits.

  One question remained, though neither realised it. Who was using the other better?

  The harsh sun had at last crept into the valley, steadily burning away the morning mist as Edgewood zipped up the tent behind her.

  “Are we still on target with our plan?” she asked, her gaze at Hooper firm. The man was integral to their scheme, though she didn’t like him one little bit. Benedix had recruited Hooper, and with some reluctance she would just have to trust his judgment.

  “Yeah,” he grunted, “of course we are. Relax. Everything’s under control.”

  But Edgewood was far from relaxed. She’d dreamed about these next few days for a long time, and was so close to fulfilling that dream she could taste it. If everything went according to Benedix’s plan, in mere days she would be richer than she’d ever imagined. She wasn’t comfortable with some of the things she’d have to do to achieve her goals, but that was the nature of the beast. And she could handle it. Her father hadn’t become rich by being nice, that was for sure. She figured he had taught her well. When all was said and done, not only would she be rich, but she’d be world famous. She saw the headlines now:

  Lost Inca Gold Discovered by Graduate Student Kate Edgewood

  Just a few obstacles ahead, a little collateral damage that she'd have to accept, and it would all be hers. She knew she’d be betraying many people to fulfil her dreams. But Inca gold had a history of betrayal, stretching all the way back to Atahualpa and Francisco Pizarro’s conquistadors, and who was she to break with tradition? Atahualpa himself had stolen it from his own brother, before Pizarro stole it from him. She almost chuckled at the thought.

  After all, as an art history professor, Ferdinand was all about tradition, wasn’t he? She doubted he’d appreciate the irony once he realised he’d been double-crossed.

  3

  Day 3

  An Accident

  After an uneventful evening, and some much needed rest, the group had made a good and energetic start to the day. But now, two-thirds through its daily arc the high sun took its toll on the weary trekkers.

  Sonco noticed the pace had slowed and sidled up alongside Kane to suggest a half-hour rest, to which he agreed. Kane had to look after his group, and knowing Sonco’s instincts rarely failed him, if the Quechuan said they needed a break, that’s what they’d have.

  Yupanqui set about boiling water for afternoon drinks, then handed around pre-cooked snacks of rice and vegetables wrapped in banana leaves to the grateful hikers. There was little chatter among them, each taking the time to rest their limbs while admiring the wild surroundings. The rumble of a nearby waterfall cascading into a ravine was loud enough to drown out the sounds of the jungle, and though they couldn’t see it they knew it was nearby. Muddy Waters stood up, looking about for a convenient jungle loo. Keen to check out the falls, he made his way towards their thunderous roar.

  “Be careful, Muddy,” called out Kane, to which Muddy responded with a casual wave of the hand as he disappeared around a bend in the trail.

  A moment later Kate Edgewood gave Hooper a subtle nod. He nodded back, stood up and stretched, and strolled off in the opposite direction to that of Muddy. De La Cruz, anonymous but aware, saw it all. Nobody else did.

  Once beyond the view of the group, Hooper changed pace and direction, scrambling almost vertically up the jungle slope, moving swift and silent, like a trained solider. In less than a minute, he doubled back past the camp below, taking great care to remain unseen. It was time for stage one of his personal mission.

  Muddy was having a grand old time. He’d been on plenty of archaeological adventures before, but with age at last catching up with him, this was likely to be his last. And what a way to bow out, he thought as he ambled along the overgrown trail; to be a part of the team that at last discovered the lost Inca treasure. Something to tell the grandkids, he mused, standing on the edge of the trail and admiring the waterfall, oblivious to the dark shadow that crept up behind him, its sound drowned out by the raging torrent nearby.

  And then all the world went black.

  Stealthy and smooth, Hooper scaled down the last patch of rock that led to the waterfall, and saw Professor Waters standing with his back to him and about to relieve himself. Hooper couldn’t help but smile. Too easy. He edged up to the old professor, and without a moment’s pause, smashed a rock down on his head.

  Hooper watched with chilling apathy as Waters’ knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor. With a cursory glance back along the trail, he bundled the lifeless body over the edge, watching with indifference as it disappeared beneath the water below. Dead! Hooper's heart rate didn’t raise one iota.

  Hooper cast his gaze to the heavens, and with two deft movements, made the sign of the cross over his chest. Then, retracing his steps, he hustled back up the rock face and circled back around to camp, and with a quick dust-down of his clothes, Hooper strolled into camp and retook his seat against a fallen tree trunk. He was gone less than five minutes.

  “Hey, Kane,” called over Ridley. “What’ll you do when you become the world’s most famous explorer? Will you remember your friends once you’re labelled the new Indiana Jones?” she bantered with a not-very-subtle wink.

  “That depends who the friends are,” he returned. “Are we friends, Ridley?” Kane always had trouble concealing his fondness for Alex Ridley. It wasn’t any different now.

  “Yes, I suppose we are. But don’t get any other ideas.” She knew how much Kane admired her. She felt the same about him. But for her it was enough to keep it that way. And although she teased Kane about it, she appreciated his reasons for keeping their unique friendship on the down low in the company of others. She believed she was doing a good job.

  “Kids, kids,” said Haines with a knowing look. “When are you two going to get married, anyway? Imagine the adventurous offspring you’d produce.”

  Kane grimaced, mortified, and even the unflappable Ridley flushed with embarrassment at the comment. But nobody else seemed surprised, and Kane at once knew their ruse was futile.

  Sonco just shook his head as if it was old news. But his smile was broad, and he'd always wanted the two to be together. Alongside Alex was when his friend Hiram was happiest. “Okay, Hiram,” he said, “Need to go now. Night coming.”

  Draining the last of their drinks, the others stood up and stretched out their worn muscles. It was Evan Craft who first noticed Waters’ absence. “Muddy seems to be taking a while,” he said. “Must be one hell of a leak.”

  “The old timer probably fell asleep on a rock,” replied Haines, chuckling.

  De La Cruz looked on, impassive, almost invisible to the rest.

  “I’ll run and look for him,” called Ridley as she trotted out of sight around the bend. But she’d been gone less than a minute, when even above the roar of the waterfall, an unmistakable cry for help reverberated through the valley.

  Kane froze, then sprinted after Ridley, and soon found her clambering down a precarious rock face parallel to the waterfall. What the hell is she doing? Kane’s gaze drifted below Ridley to the foot of the falls, and straining his eyes he saw a hiking boot sticking out of the water.

  “Muddy?” Kane was over the edge of the rocky cliff in an instant, negotiating the terrain like the expert climber he was.

  “What happened?” he bellowed over the thundering cascades.

  “Don’t know. I couldn’t find him. Then I saw the boot.”

  They both made it down at the same moment, and hustled to the professor, each expecting to find a dead body. Kane reached down and hauled Muddy’s head above the frothing natural pool. As unlikely as it was, he was breathing, and blood streamed down his face from an ugly wound at the back of his head. Together they dragged the professor out of the pool and sat him upright against a rock.

  Muddy opened his eyes, and he choked, wrenching the water out in violent spurts. After a few seconds he recovered, his eyes darting about in wild confusion.

  Muddy had no idea either who nor where he was, until at last he looked up at Kane. After a deep, calming breath, he seemed to relax. He looked around, and nodded in comprehension.

  “I was–” He paused, frowning, as if trying to recall something. “Yeah, I was standing up there, admiring the water fall, and… And that’s the last thing I remember. I guess I must’ve gotten dizzy and fell.”

  He reached his hand to his head, his eyes widening in shock to find his fingers covered in blood. “Oh, shit,” was all he could say, and he promptly vomited.

  “He’s in shock,” said Ridley, urgency lacing her tone. “We have to get him back to the trail. He’ll freeze down here.” She looked up and saw Sonco and a porter scrambling down to assist.

  By combining ropes with the strength of two pack mules, they carefully raised Professor Waters up to the relative safety of the trail. It was amazing he’d only suffered minor injuries. The head wound was nasty, but the ageing professor would live.

  The group gathered round, worry etched on all their faces.

  Except one. What might have looked like concern to those nearby, Hooper’s gaping jaw was evidence of the shock he felt at seeing Muddy alive. He didn’t believe it was possible. However, a sharp word from De La Cruz straightened him out, and with difficulty Hooper feigned a look of concern.

  Edgewood made a concerted effort in assisting Muddy, but when the chance arose she shot Hooper a look, her eyes blazing with anger. Fortunately for them, the bedlam of the moment had kept their attitudes hidden from the others. Only de La Cruz knew. The Spaniard closed his eyes. Patience, he thought. God’s work will be done.

  Aside from a sore head and the dozen stitches needed to close the wound, expertly administered by Ridley, over the course of the next hour Muddy Waters made a good recovery. He still felt like shit, and he certainly had concussion. It was a harsh reminder of the hangover he’d endured after the famous Boston Red Sox World Series win in 2004, their first victory since 1918. That was a worthy headache, at least.

  “You’re a lucky man, Muddy,” said Haines. “Whatever happened?”

  “I just don’t know, John. One minute I stood on the rocks admiring the view, and the next… Well, everything went dark. I guess I must’ve slipped and bashed my thick skull. He grimaced. “It’s gonna hurt in the morning.”

  It was a plausible explanation. John knew Muddy wasn’t as young as he used to be, and that he’d been struggling a little with the heat and the terrain. But his concern enough to mention it to Muddy, or Kane, but in hindsight it was easy to imagine the older professor becoming faint and stumbling. Of course now he wished he’d spoken up.

  Kane, though, felt troubled. He had noticed when Hooper discreetly left the group at the same time as the professor, though he thought nothing of it, assuming Hooper was also visiting the jungle bathroom. Kane had no reason to consider any foul play, and he didn’t want to accuse anybody of anything without evidence. But what should he do? He’d felt a little dubious about Hooper from the moment they’d arrived in Cuzco, but he could think of no reason the writer might have for harming the harmless old archaeologist.

  Kane knew the discovery of Vilcabamba–and the potential unearthing of untold Inca gold and treasure–would be the archaeological find of a lifetime, and there were many people around the world who’d die for a share of its riches. Indeed, many people had already lost their lives over the last century chasing the alleged myth. But to think people might have hijacked his expedition for some ruthless archaic ideology was abhorrent.

  Kane was in it for the adventure and the pure joy of genuine discovery, and sought no personal fame or wealth from whatever success he found. To even consider that others were willing to kill for it tormented him no end. But the more he thought about it, the more Muddy's incident seemed premeditated, almost as if it was a case of waiting for the right moment. Attempted murder? By a writer?

  It made little sense, and Kane was awash with an unaccustomed feeling of helplessness. He hoped it was just imagination getting the better of him, and Muddy’s fall was nothing more than an accident. But Kane would watch Hooper with refocused attention.

  He recalled something his grandfather had once said to him on the day of his eighteenth birthday–the day he received the map. This map comes with a great burden, he’d said. Those words had stayed with Hiram ever since.

  And now he couldn’t shake the horrifying thought a killer might be among them, that burden was looming very large indeed.

  Sun Disc

  August 16th, 1988

  With the sun on their faces, and acres of beautiful landscape stretching out before them, Hiram and his grandfather sat on a bench beneath a grand willow tree at the Kane family estate, nestled in a shallow valley on the Norfolk/Suffolk border.

  “Now, don’t get all bashful on me, Hiram,” said his grandfather. “I just believe you have a dazzling future. I can see in your eyes the same passion and spirit I had as a younger man.” A shadow passed across the old man's eyes. “But your father didn’t develop the same traits. Worse than that, I don’t see it in your brother, either. Danny isn’t like us. Like you.”

  Danny was walking out to the garden with his friend when they spotted his brother and grandfather on the bench. Ever the joker, Danny thought it would be fun to sneak up on the pair and make them jump. They crept to the nearby bushes and waited, listening while stifling their giggles. Danny loved his grandfather, and looked up to him, just as Hiram did. But Danny couldn’t help his feelings of jealousy. He supposed his grandfather didn’t deliberately favour Hiram though sometimes it felt that way.

  As an adventurous outdoor type, their grandfather loved to see Hiram enjoying the same things as he did–tramping across the countryside, swimming at the beach, excelling in sport at school–and while he was proud of Hiram’s physical development and zest for life, he was disappointed Danny hadn’t inherited the same attributes, much like their father.

  But that wasn’t Danny’s fault. Hiram was stronger, faster than him, and he simply enjoyed sport more. Danny liked it too but just wasn’t as good at them as Hiram. It bothered him.

  “I’m not sure,” replied Hiram, “Danny’s just like me.”

  From the bushes, Danny heard his name mentioned.

  “No, lad, he isn’t. How many teams does he represent in school? None. What was he doing when you and I hiked Mount Snowdon last spring? Stayed at the campsite with his mother. He's not as driven as you. I love him as much as I love you, of course I do. But it saddens me he’s not adventurous like us.” But his frown suddenly slipped away, replaced by a wide smile. “Which is why I have a surprise for you.”

  When their grandfather gave surprises they were always special, and Hiram’s eyes widened with excitement.

  “Close your eyes, my boy,” he said, and Hiram did.

  Out of sight in the bushes, Danny’s smile melted away. He knew his grandfather loved him, he’d heard him say it. But to hear he was a disappointment to a man he so admired brought tears to his eyes. How could he not be jealous of Hiram?

  Hiram’s grandfather placed a small package into his open hands.

  “Open your eyes. Go ahead, open it.”

  Hiram did so. Threaded over a long, leather necklace was a dazzling disk of gold, two inches across. In the dusky, late afternoon sun the disc absolutely glowed. Hiram was enamoured by the magical object.

  “Well, put it on then,” said his grandfather, his delight clear.

  Hiram lifted the shiny talisman over his head, the shimmering disc coming to rest in the middle of his chest. It was beautiful, and though he doubted it had much intrinsic value, to Hiram it was priceless. It became his pride and joy.

  “My own father gave it to me a few years before he died, and now I want you to have it. He found it on an expedition with Bingham in the Sacred Valley way back in 1911. It’s an Incan sun disc, made to honour the Sun God, Inti.”

  “Is it real? I mean is it really Inca gold?”

  “Yes, my boy, it most certainly is.”

  Unbidden tears streamed down Danny’s cheeks, and his friend, Tim, put a hand on his shoulder. But Danny shrugged him off, jumped from the hiding place and ran to the house. Hiram and his grandfather turned at the commotion, and upon seeing Tim standing there, they guessed what had happened. Tim glared at them for a long moment, then chased after Danny.