The Source - Michael Cordy [87]
Ross didn't join them. He needed answers. He walked round the garden, studying the cliff walls. The rock wasn't soft like the limestone prevalent in these parts. It was harder and impermeable, almost certainly volcanic. He guessed that it formed a bowl within which the garden sat, surrounded by magma, a ring of fire, sealing it off from the outside world. But it hadn't always been sealed. If his theory was correct there had been a time, billions of years ago, when this place had leaked its life force into a then barren planet, seeding all that was to follow. Then the ring of fire had closed, the bowl of volcanic rock had cooled and hardened, locking everything within. The last leak had been sealed off a thousand years ago, when the spring in the lost city had dried up.
As he wandered round the perimeter, large oval sunflowers and huge bulbous artichoke-like blooms reminded him of South Africa's proteus flower. He saw dog-like creatures in the undergrowth and odd insects, all recognizable from the Voynich. He imagined Orlando Falcon lying in his cell, mentally retracing the steps he himself was now taking, drawing their likenesses in his manuscript. What struck Ross most, though, was not how different everything was from the outside world but how similar. Even though the plants and creatures in this basin had evolved independently of anything outside, it appeared that evolution had arrived at similar solutions: petals, seeds, leaves, eyes, legs. He hadn't yet seen anything completely alien. Especially when he considered the creatures and plants he had discovered on his journey through the Amazon.
He looked back to the mound of stones where Sister Chantal had slept but she wasn't there. A moment later he spotted her standing by the stream at the far end of the lake, near the entrance to the forbidden caves.
Sister Chantal looked different. She wore sandals and a white blouse over a white skirt, and she had undone her hair so it fell below her shoulders. The early-morning light lent her an ethereal air and she seemed younger, stronger. Her wrinkles hadn't disappeared and her hair was still streaked with grey, but the contusion on her head and the surface wounds from the jaguar attack had gone. Also, the weariness had left her eyes and her translucent skin glowed. A small bag was slung over her left shoulder. As he approached, she took his hand. 'Your wrist's better.'
He clenched his fist. 'It's fine. That's what I want to ask you about. And about Lauren.'
'Come,' she said. 'Let me explain a few things.' She pointed to the stream and the lake. 'As you've discovered, the water and any produce from the plants in the garden will not only rebalance and refresh the body, but heal any ailments.'
He thought of Lauren's broken neck. 'Heal anything?'
'Most things, it would appear.' She touched her face and smiled sadly. 'The one thing it can't do is make us younger. It can slow, even halt, the ageing process, but not reverse it.'
'Can it cure Lauren?'
'Of course. That's why I brought you here.' She spoke with such confidence that Ross had to blink back tears.
'So what do I do? Take her a bottle of the lake water or some fruit?'
She shook her head. 'I tried that once but when the water or plants are taken from the garden they lose their power. No living thing here can survive outside. The fruit rots and the water goes stagnant. I don't know why. It's as though everything has become so dependent on this place that it must die immediately it leaves. But creatures like us, who have evolved to survive outside its orbit, are revitalized here. However, we can only gain the benefits by drinking the water or eating the produce in