The Treasure of Atlantis by J. Allan Dunn (drm ebook reader .txt) 📖

Morse was the new idol of the populace. Whenever he appeared, crowds made way for him with cries of admiration; while the maidens, who perpetually wore wreaths of heavy-scented blossoms, cast them before him so that his existence out of doors was almost a continued triumphal procession. And since the games, Rana had increased her attentions. She showered him with gifts and invitations, and all but openly declared herself willing to accept him as lover and husband.

Morse could admire her from a distance for she was unquestionably a beautiful woman. But his fascination for her was gone; she held no spell for him now. And he avoided her as much as possible. Finally, as the month drew to its close, he spoke to Laidlaw.

“Look,” he said. “I can’t take much more of this. I have to work at avoiding her. How soon are you going to be ready to leave?”

Laidlaw looked at him in bewildered surprise. “Leave! I haven’t even begun my work here. Next

week is the start of the month of Pasiphae; the month of Demeter follows. I must observe the festivals and their ritual. They may be close to those of three thousand years ago. This is an expedition into the past; you can’t be serious about leaving at this time. I have six months’ work in front of me—a year’s.”

So enamored was Laidlaw of his subject that he forgot Morse’s appeal. “The only thing that bothers me is the lack of film for the camera. We should have brought a motion picture outfit, Morse. Think of it—tangible proof, the scientific value. Why didn’t we bring one?”

“I don’t want to interrupt your researches,” said Morse in a tone that secured the scientist’s wandering attention, “but we may have to get away from here in a . You know what Rana’s attitude is. I don’t think I can be diplomatic toward her much longer without insulting her. Our affairs are going to come to a crisis some day soon, and when I break with her there’s going to be trouble.

“I dodged her last week by staying across the lake, and at that she sent me a letter each day and a jewel which she claims is a vital part of my costume. Rana is as clever as she is beautiful, Laidlaw. Ambitious, too, but she holds nothing for me. She spins a web of circumstance that puts us together, and she may want to make me her consort. But somewhere along the line she’s going to try and do away with Kiron, and if this happens Ru is going to be right there. He’s either going to control her, or failing that he’s going to eliminate her just as she intends to eliminate Kiron.”

Laidlaw nodded gravely, his work forgotten for the moment.

“You may be right. If Ru can himself while we’re still here, we’re going to find ourselves out on the ledge with the vultures some morning, and there won’t be any rescue party.”

The scientist went on slowly. “I’ve often wondered how genuine her interest in you really is. In the beginning I thought it was feigned—completely so; that she and Ru were working hand in hand against Kiron and against us as well. Now, I’m not so sure about Rana. You’re too strong of mind for her, and you baffle her. She’s still power-hungry beyond belief, but she can’t

conquer you and I believe that this fascinates her.

“You know Kiron has been anxious to honor us by giving us the full citizenship he promised when we rescued him. Now, I think Rana has come over to this idea as well, while Ru has been quietly working against it all along. You see, if they initiate us to the level of nobles as Kiron intends, it would afford us a little more protection against anything that the old priest might have planned for us. Anyway, I think we have some sort of a conflict growing between Rana and Ru, and you may very well be the cause of it.”

“Laidlaw, if you can see that much, you can see the problems facing us if we stay here.”

Laidlaw nodded his head sadly. “You’re right, of course. But I’ve got to have a month for my work. Somehow, you’ve got to smooth things over for that long. Morse, I implore you…”

Morse had to laugh at the other’s seriousness. “All right, then. One month. It’s not going to be easy. And don’t say anything about our intention to depart. We’ll have to fly at the last moment—with Kiron’s aid if we can get it.”

As the days passed, Rana took up the cause to ennoble Morse and Laidlaw. Since the former had defeated Aulus in the arena, her interest was—as Laidlaw sensed—more genuine. And when she finally, in a public speech, championed the honor due the visitors, Ruts powerful opposition fell silently away with the applause of the populace.

Morse was to receive the second degree of epoptae, and Laidlaw, by reason of his dwarfed and misshapen legs, was to receive the slightly lesser degree of mystae. (Morse wondered how much was due to his companion’s imperfections and how much was due to Rana’s interest in him.)

The initiation took place in the underground chambers of the Temple of the Double Ax, dedicated to the sun and moon gods, Minos and Pasiphae. It was midnight on the last day of the month of Minos when Morse and Laidlaw, clad in ceremonial robes, blindfolded, their ears muffled by a light bandage, another across their mouth and nostrils, were escorted by winding ways to

the council chamber. Thirty silent forms wearing long-sleeved robes of gray that fell over their feet were grouped about a central figure occupying a throne carved from the rock wall. Oil lamps cast a flickering light upon the mute assembly. The silent figures all wore masks representing jaguars, human skulls, and the heads of great beaked birds.

The man on the throne was distinguished by a headgear representing a bull. Frescoes dimly showed upon the walls. In the semicircle formed by the initiates stood a glowing brazier supported upon upreared and intertwisting snakes. Incense rose from the green flames of a burning liquid. Morse and Laidlaw were led to a point directly behind it.

“Neophytes!” The voice, despite its resonance, had a strident quality that assured the Americans that Ru was speaking through a megaphone-like object in his mask. “You have been instructed in your behavior. Courage conquers all things. Fear breeds. weakness. This is the wedding night of Minos, son of Zeus, and god of the sun, and Pasiphae, the all-shining, goddess of the moon, deities of the double ax, founders of Atlantis.”

As he spoke the altar flame changed first to orange, then to a vivid blue at the mention of the honored names.

“May you be found worthy in their sight to become as their children. Your sight—” (the bandages were removed from their eyes) “—your hearing and your speech—” (the other mufflings followed) “—have been taken from you to be restored as the trials shall prove you fit. Through darkness, danger, and through death the way shall lead back to light and life. Do not step from the trail or those who lurk close by will seize and destroy you.”

The light in the brazier died down as the words ceased, flickering to a’ creeping silver flame that suddenly leaped up and vanished, leaving the chamber in stygian darkness. By its last lambent effort the Americans could see that the chamber had emptied itself of other occupants in some mysterious fashion. The frescoes wavered on the solid walls as if they shook with the passing of the initiates. They caught a glimpse of the vacant throne before blackness enveloped them.

A liquid substance began to drip—spat, spat—upon the pavement with a regularity that timed their pulses to its beat. The darkness thickened; the air grew oppressive with a salty tang—half scent, half flavor; the subtle essence of newly-spilled blood. There were whisperings about them, inarticulate chuckles, grotesque cacklings, and cold blasts of wind passed over them with the beat of invisible wings.

Suddenly eyes appeared in the darkness. They glowed weirdly, green and crimson, moved about them at various heights, and finally settled in two immovable rows, baleful and hypnotic. More ghoulish chuckling and laughter, and the eyes began to whirl. Finally, with an animal chorus of gnashing of teeth, scraping of claws, and fearful howls, silence came to the chamber.

“If we could work anything like that in the States,” whispered Morse in English, “we’d have the Psychological Research Society at our feet.”

“They’ve been working at it for thousands of years,” replied Laidlaw. “Damned effective.”

The dark slowly became less intense, the air laden with the delicate fragrance of spring blossoms. Black turned into purple, and purple became gray, and finally they could see the walls in front of them dissolving in whirls of mist.

Upon a couch lay the exquisite form of a sleeping woman, rounded breasts lifting with her gentle breathing, skin rosy with youth and health. As they gazed, a subtle change occurred. The curves lost their roundness, the flesh shriveled and became blue, the air grew rank with the smell of death.

Before their eyes the infinitely fair creature was falling away, disintegrating. The face became a skull as the flesh withered. The hair, bleached white, fell out in huge chunks; ribs and pelvis bones stood out in horrible distinction; the chamber reeked with the stench of a house. The bones fell away and crumbled, leaving only a little pile of dust from which a snake writhed away.

The wall resumed shape behind the gray veil, and a dazzling light enveloped them. From its center a voice sounded:

“The Eye of Minos witnesses and approves. Behind them another took up the ritual:

“It is recorded. Turn and enter.”

A narrow opening appeared to their vision. They crossed the threshold and a door clanged violently behind them. The room was filled with