The Source - Michael Cordy [50]
The nun took the book from him. 'All of them.'
'Do they mean anything to you, Mr Hackett?' asked Zeb.
'I think so,' said Hackett, licking his lips. He wanted to reach for his asthma inhaler, but instead he slowed his breathing to calm his racing heart. Was this yet another pipe dream, more castles in the air? Or, as he was about to give up and go home, was it the real thing?
'Can you, for example, tell us exactly where the quest starts?' asked Ross.
They were testing him now. Hackett checked his watch. Good, it would soon be dark. He rose from his chair and threw some money on to the table to cover the drinks. 'Come with me.' He moved to the door. 'I can do better than tell you where your priest started his quest.' He opened the door and walked out into the dusk. 'A lot better.'
As they followed Hackett across the town square and down a sidestreet to the only Inca building left standing in Cajamarca, Ross had no idea that he, too, was being followed. The small chamber where the Inca emperor had been imprisoned by Pizarro was unremarkable inside, except for what Hackett assured Ross were signs of Inca construction: trapezoidal doorways and niches in the inner walls. It smelt of dust and the past.
'This is it,' said Hackett. 'The tour guides call it El Cuarto del Rescate, the ransom chamber, but your priest was right. This was actually La Prisión del Rey.' He looked Ross in the eye. 'But you already knew that, didn't you? Would you be more impressed if I told you where the first direction leads?'
'Yes,' said Ross. 'I think we would.'
When Hackett led them outside it was dark, and as Ross's eyes settled on a bright star, he tried to remember what the charts in Falcon's notebook had said about the night sky in June. Hackett followed his gaze then said to Sister Chantal, 'Tell me again the first direction in your book.'
She read it aloud: '"With the cross as your guide, march two days to an ancient lost city on the eyebrow of the jungle." '
Hackett smiled. 'Oh, yes, the Eyebrow of the Jungle, La Ceja de la Selva.' He pointed up to the bright star. 'That's your cross – Crux, also known as the Southern Cross.' He flashed a boyish smile. 'But we don't need to follow it because I already know where it leads. The ancient city on the Eyebrow of the Jungle may have been lost when your priest wrote his book, but Juan Crisóstomo found it in 1843. It's called Kuelap.' He pointed to a spotless silver Land Rover parked nearby. 'And it won't take us two days in that.' He smiled at Ross. 'More impressed?'
Ross couldn't suppress a grin. 'A little.'
Hackett indicated the notebook in Sister Chantal's hands. 'From what I read, most of the early directions seem pretty straightforward. The important thing is to find where on the river they lead you. Once you take a boat and head up the Amazon I suspect the clues will be harder to follow. Fortunately, June's the beginning of the drier season and the riverbanks won't be flooded. Most landmarks should be visible.'
Ross couldn't help liking the Englishman. 'Will you help us, then? Can you provide transport, a guide to keep us out of trouble and whatever supplies we need to survive the trip? We'll pay whatever you think is fair.'
For a while Hackett didn't say anything. Then, 'Does anyone else know about this?'
'No.'
'Let's say I get a guide, equip the expedition and come with you. And let's say we do find Eldorado. Do we share everything? I know a man who can sell the gold for us.'
'I don't see why not.' Ross turned to Chantal and Zeb, who nodded. 'The way we see it, a percentage of something is better than all of nothing. We'll split any gold we find four ways. Equal partners.' He and the women extended their hands,