Chapter 33
The Eagle’s Nest
They clambered up the slab and peered into the inner sanctuary of the cave. Nat could see that every centimetre of the ceiling had once spouted a pure white spear, but many of them had been knocked from their perch. The broken formations were littered across the floor and mixed with an incredible number of bones and sea shells. In the centre of this den sat an enormous black bird.
The eagle was dead and had been so for some time, but it was beautifully preserved. It looked like an exhibit from a museum. Its powerful wings were wrapped around its body. Red feathers burst from the top of its head and trimmed the edges of its wings. It was the single most beautiful and majestic thing Nat had ever seen.
Jack broke the mood by nudging her. ‘What’s it sitting on?’
She looked at him, puzzled, and squinted into the dark. The eagle’s powerful talons were holding onto something. ‘Can you see?’ she asked.
‘I think it’s the treasure,’ he whispered. ‘We have to get up there.’
Jack climbed over the head of the slab, then dropped into the nest. Nat followed, hoping for silence, but she sank into the floor of shells, and they began to clink and rustle. She winced at the commotion. Jack didn’t care about the noise. He waded through the shells, kicking them out of the way. Nat wouldn’t have been surprised if the eagle had woken at the disturbance and eaten them both for a snack. She was still in the shell swamp when Jack climbed up next to the bird. The eagle towered over him. He knelt at its feet.
‘It’s the treasure all right,’ he called. ‘One claw on each chest.’
‘How on earth did they get him in here?’
Jack looked around. ‘There’s a massive rock fall on this side. Maybe that was the original opening – after that closed, he was stuck.’
Jack’s words echoed round the cave, then the sound was swallowed whole by the renewed anger of the drill. This time, it was closer. Nat was tossed around in the vibrating sea of sharp shells and bones. The noise built up to an incredible crescendo of hammering. Nat fought to escape, and pulled herself up onto the rocks. When she thought her head would burst with the din, a giant drill exploded through the cave wall. Fragments of rock flew everywhere. Jack ducked under a massive boulder and beckoned to her furiously. Nat sprinted to his hiding place. As she threw herself in, she glimpsed the churning metal head and vicious teeth of the drill. Around them, stalactites dropped like swords and rockslides began to tumble.
‘The whole cave is on the move,’ shouted Jack.
There was an almighty crack and Nat watched in alarm as an entire section of the ceiling split off and smashed down, showering every surface with rubble. Burrowing further beneath the boulder, Nat listened as the cave broke apart around them. The sounds were horrifying. Rocks clanged and roared, and Nat wrapped herself up into the smallest ball she could and shuddered in terror for the second time that day. Finally, everything was still.
Nat waited, praying that nothing else would fall. For a moment she panicked about their exit being blocked, but the idea was so dreadful she shut it out. Jack wiped the dust from his ears and eyes. He looked like a grey ghost.
‘Ready?’ he whispered.
She nodded.
They climbed out and surveyed the new landscape of the cave. The dust was still settling, but Nat could see that rivers of rock had run down the slopes, leaving them surrounded by unstable terrain.
An enormous stalactite had smashed into the heart of the drill, silencing it forever. The figures of two men lay beside it. Without thinking, Nat ran towards them. The first man was slumped on a rock. She hooked her arms under his shoulders and tried to move him.
‘Help, Jack,’ she called. Together they dragged the man away. As Nat checked for a pulse, Jack returned to the drill.
‘He’s alive,’ said Nat. ‘What about the other one?’
Jack turned back. ‘Don’t look,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing we can do for him.’ Nat saw a stain of red seeping over the cave dust. ‘I can smell petrol back there,’ Jack added. ‘Fresh air might be all this guy needs.’
‘Do we know him?’ asked Nat. With the caving helmet on and the dust covering his face, it was difficult to see. She never got an answer from Jack, because he gasped and started to run.
Nat spun around. Before them lay the treasure chests, unopened, but intact. They looked bare without their guardian. The majestic eagle had been thrown aside by the rock fall, and it had disintegrated. A trail of feathers and a beautiful sad head were all that remained of the great protector. Nat followed her brother and crouched down to say goodbye to the only Harpagornis she would ever see.
‘We’ve got to move,’ called Jack. ‘We don’t know how stable this place is.’
‘What about the guy back there?’
‘Nat!’ said Jack. ‘He’s after this treasure! We have to get it out of here before he wakes up.’
He knelt beside the chests and Nat leapt to her feet.
‘Don’t you dare open them!’
‘Relax sis, the locks are still on.’
The chests were wooden, each about the size of four shoeboxes, and looked like they had belonged to a genuine pirate. There were cracks in the lids, and the edge of one was seriously chipped, perhaps from someone trying to smash it open long ago. The other chest was encrusted with grime, as if it had been buried. They both had robust metal handles and there were sturdy black padlocks fastening the latches.
Jack nudged her. ‘You grab this one.’
Nat grabbed the handles and lifted the chest. ‘Whoa,’ she said. ‘That is heavy.’
They began to pick their way around the swamp of shells and bones.
‘Watch your step,’ warned Jack. ‘If you fall in there, it’ll be trickier to get you out than at the Glowworm Cave.’
Sidling their way through the maze, they managed to haul the chests past the shells and with an almighty effort, up onto the limestone slab. Nat passed her chest to Jack, and he lowered it to the ground.
‘Next one,’ he said, searching for a better grip on the rocks.
Nat pushed the second chest towards him. Sharp pains shot through her shoulders but she heaved with all her might.
‘Hold on,’ called Jack. He grunted as he jammed his body against the slab, using his knees to secure the chest. Together they held it steady. Then all at once, Jack’s foot slid, Nat’s arms gave out, and the treasure fell. It hit the other chest, and they both plummeted downwards. They bounced at the bottom of the slab and slammed into the unsteady scree. One thump was all the rocks needed. They shifted about for an uncertain moment and then hurtled downwards.
‘No!’ yelled Jack. He leapt over the rock and into the scree. His weight triggered another rock slide. As he was propelled past the chests, Jack looked back at Nat in alarm. Then he was thrown into the water with an avalanche of stone.
Nat raced down the slope, picking her way between the loose boulders. As the dust settled, she could see Jack splashing about. The treasure chests had come to a stop metres away from him, on the brink of the moat.
‘Are you all right?’ called Nat.
‘My foot’s stuck!’ He was straining to get it out.
Nat made her way to the edge. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Deadly,’ said Jack, as the pain contorted his face.
‘Hold it right there!’ yelled a voice above them.
Nat blinked. She knew that voice. She’d taken an instant dislike to it when she’d first heard it. It was Cain Wylie.
‘We saved him?’ she groaned. ‘I’m an idiot!’
Rockslides rumbled around them as Wylie staggered down the unsteady slope, clutching his head. In his outstretched hand was a gun, and it was pointed straight at her. Nat gulped. She had no doubt he would fire the weapon. She glanced at Jack, who was still straining to free himself from the rocks, and then at the treasure, sitting to her left.
‘Don’t even think about moving,’ yelled Wylie. His voice was slurred and
uneven.
‘Carbon monoxide poisoning,’ whispered Jack. ‘He’s all over the place. Those fools were operating that petrol drill in a pretty small space.’
‘So he might recover?’
‘Yeah, but his brain might also be mush. Oh, and Splat,’ whispered Jack. ‘‘I don’t want to freak you out – but the water’s rising.’
Nat spun around. The water was lapping around Jack’s shoulders. A moment ago it’d been at his chest.
‘I told you not to move!’ yelled Wylie. He fired at the ceiling.
Nat dropped to the floor as pieces of stone showered around them.
‘That’s better,’ he drawled. He lurched downwards, sending more rock flying into the moat with every careless step. Wylie stood over the treasure chests and fired at the locks. They flew off with a shrill ringing noise. He pointed the gun back at Nat, knelt down and flicked away the warped remainder of the padlocks.
The dust covered man smiled as he ran his hand along the chests.
‘And Carter said it didn’t exist,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Silly old man. Never did have enough imagination.’ He cracked open the lids and held them still for a long moment. He looked around the silent cavern and sniggered. ‘Just another rumour.’ Then he swung both lids wide open. The light of his headlamp hit the jewels, revealing the green gleam of perfect emeralds in one chest and the warm glow of rubies in the other. While one hand gripped the gun, he plunged the other into the emeralds. His hand emerged clutching a gigantic green gem. Nat knew instantly it was the Emerald Eye of Babylon. Wylie stared at it, mesmerised.
Nat’s heart was pounding. Jack was going to drown if she didn’t do something soon. But any movement and she would be shot. She started to panic. This was not how it was supposed to go. Wylie reached into his jacket and produced two canvas bags. He started loading the gems into the bags; first the Emerald Eye of Babylon, then one at a time, then by handfuls. As he sealed the first bag he started chuckling to himself. Then he threw his head back and laughed out loud. Wylie’s triumph echoed around the cave. The sound reverberated off every surface until the whole space was filled with the cackle of the crazed man.
There was a moment of silence as the laughter faded away. Then the cave replied. It started softly; Nat had to concentrate to understand where the sound was coming from. At the beginning it was a muttering. Then it grew into a rumble. Suddenly the cave roared. Nat scanned the ceiling.
‘Jack!’ she screamed, pointing up.
A crack had appeared in the roof. As they watched, it ripped through the rock. It was heading straight for Wylie. Nat watched as the crack snaked towards a series of huge formations. It crept around the first one, loosening every connection. The stalactite teetered on its moorings, unsure about leaving the rock it had gripped onto for thousands of years. But the crack wriggled further, and the formation let go, dropping silently through the air. The stalactite landed right beside Wylie. He leapt away in horror. The formation was over three metres high. Nat watched the crack get back to work. A moment later, a second stalactite landed on the other side of Wylie. His face lost all colour. Between the two massive pillars, he looked like a toy. He stared at the roof, frozen to the spot. The crack was widening right above his head.
Another gigantic stalactite on the ceiling began to waver, then plummeted down, piercing the heart of the second treasure chest. Rubies were cast into the air in a surreal lolly scramble. A few plopped into the water, but the rest scattered over the rock. The cave roared again. Wylie stumbled, falling hard. Another stalactite fell. Wylie yelped; he’d been pinned to the ground; the formation had pierced the edge of his jacket.
‘Nat!’ yelled Jack. ‘Now!’
Nat launched herself forward. She grabbed the rope they’d coiled on the rocks, and tied a foolproof knot around Wylie’s full treasure bag. She tugged the line three times, and the bag was pulled into the water.
Wylie was still struggling to escape his jacket.
‘The other jewels!’ yelled Jack. ‘Grab them!’
She glanced at Jack. Only his face was above the water. She fell to her knees and began throwing the last emeralds and rubies into the other bag. Her hands flew faster and faster, snatching and flinging the gems until they were a blur. She fastened the bag, and dragged it towards Jack. But when she looked up, he’d disappeared under the rising water. Without a second thought, she abandoned the treasure, took a deep breath and dived into the moat.
She pulled at the rocks around his feet; they were not big or heavy, but there were so many of them her hands churned in desperation. She rose for more air, dived again and frantically revealed more and more of Jack’s leg. Finally a spurt of his blood tinted the water. Jack’s gumboot was left embedded, but his smashed foot floated free.
Nat slipped an arm around her brother and lifted his head above the water. Nothing. She slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Once… twice... Jack gulped in a desperate breath.
‘I’m getting you out of here,’ said Nat. She tied the second rope around his waist.
‘What are you doing?’ he gasped.
‘Getting that damn treasure,’ she said. ‘We’ve come too far to give up now.’
‘Nat – no!’ said Jack.
Nat frowned at him. ‘This is my chance to save the farm and keep the Plato and Sundance,’ she said. ‘I owe it to Kathleen. And Dad. Now go.’ She tugged on the rope three times and was hugely relieved to immediately feel the reply from the other side. Jack heaved in an urgent breath, and Nat watched as he was pulled away.
The cave was still. Nat glanced up. Even the crack that threatened to tear the whole cavern apart was quiet. Scanning the rocks, she couldn’t see any movement. She scrambled out of the water and ran for the bag of gems. She reached for them – and then froze as she heard a metallic click behind her.
‘Turn around,’ ordered Wylie.
Nat did as she was told. The man before her was covered in dust and blood, and he’d ripped his shirt and jacket apart to escape from the stalactites. He stepped forward, the gun wobbling in his hand.
‘The great hunters of the world are always alone,’ he said. ‘The spoils must never be shared.’
Nat stared at the demented man, rueing her decision to come back. By giving up her chance to escape with Jack, had she given up everything? Her heart kicked into a higher gear and started beating so fast it rattled her whole body. Then something on her chest pulsed. She raised her hand and rested it on the taonga. What had Abraham said? Stop, look, take everything in. She took a breath and closed her eyes.
‘You can do it,’ she said to herself. When she opened her eyes she glanced back to the hidden tunnels. Bobbing in the water, she spied Jack. He’d come back for her! Wylie was still muttering under his breath. Nat glanced up to the roof. The crack had started to move again. She watched it for a moment; it was heading straight for the eagle’s roost, where a group of enormous boulders were piled against the ceiling. Suddenly she saw exactly what was going to happen next.
‘You’re an idiot,’ she yelled. Wylie jabbed his gun in her direction. ‘You knew about the curse, and you still opened that chest.’
‘There’s no curse!’ said Wylie.
‘Oh yeah?’ said Nat. The cave started to rumble again. ‘Then why is this whole place out to get you?’
‘Nonsense!’ yelled Wylie.
Nat pointed towards the roof. ‘Those boulders are going to slam straight into you!’ she said. Wylie spun about, and Nat didn’t waste a second. She scooped the bag of jewels into her arms and leapt out over the water. Wylie turned and fired. The first two bullets whistled past Nat, but the third brushed against her shoulder. She hit the water, clutching the gems, and plummeted straight down.
There was a guttural roar. It was as if the cave had finally had enough. Rocks started to land around her, and then a landslide of mud and boulders swept into the moat. Nat was slammed against a wall by the relentless current and she sank deeper and deeper into the water.
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