Stone of Heaven by L.A. Sartor

Stone of Heaven by L.A. Sartor

Author:L.A. Sartor [Sartor, L.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L.A. Sartor


Alfred pocketed his phone and, with eagle eyes, checked to see if anything around his hiding spot had changed in the few minutes he'd talked with Tori. All was well here. He hadn't been overheard. But he wasn't sure at all how Tori really fared. His heart's daughter was different, with a bit more edge. Another energy was also inside her, and Alfred was sure it had something to do with Reid Hunter.

Pushing back all other thoughts to deal with later if he, Tori and Reid succeeded now, Alfred continued with his study of the tomb, stunned by the amount of work that had been done in three short days. The jade road glimmered in the sun, fit for a god to tread upon. The rainforest brush had been cut back, revealing the gnarled and massive fig trees that stood as impressive sentries at the tomb's entrance.

The entrance itself had been enlarged enough so a god could walk through it, tall and unbent before his minions.

Exhausted men, women and children hauled overloaded baskets strapped to their backs out of the tomb, spurred on by whip-wielding priests as a line of people with empty baskets snaked back into the tomb cave.

These people were already slaves to Itzamná. And this is only the beginning.

He crept closer to the trail, found an empty basket and slipped it on. Then, as the workers passed near, he joined the long queue behind a young boy and entered the tomb.

Torches created pools of light in the interior of the cave, much bigger than the mound's exterior would have led him to believe. Proof again that what one sees is not always what is.

Rounding a bend caused by a massive stalactite, Alfred stopped abruptly, stunned by the scene before him. Abby lay unbound and unnaturally still on a stone altar, one arm crisscrossed with cuts and dangling off the edge of the slab, her blood dripping into a golden bowl.

The only way he knew she was still alive was the red and flowing blood from her arm.

"Do not stop—move on. They come when you stop," the man behind him said, urgently nudging him forward.

The boy in front turned around. His eyes grew wide. "Señor, it is me, Jacinto. Remember I was with the señorita when she found the road and I saw you on the small screen?"

Alfred held a finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet. He nodded that Jacinto walk ahead, and as they reached the next shadow, Alfred pulled him behind an outcropping. The man who'd warned him followed.

"So, you are not from around here, señor," the man said.

Alfred didn't need bright light to see the marks of the whip on the man's shoulders. "And you are not a believer."

The man nodded.

"Papa, this man is a friend of the señorita on the altar." Jacinto turned to Alfred.

"Are you here to save her?"

Alfred nodded, eyeing the man and boy, trusting them instinctively.

"After I succeed, I will come back for all of you."

"You will not succeed, señor, but I, Enrico, will help as much as I can.



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