An Unexpected Pleasure (The Mad Morelands #4)(78)

Theo nodded. “Exactly. Hidden treasure.”

“But this is fantastical.”

“I know. It was like something out of a story. There were small statues and sheets of worked gold. Replicas of all sorts of animals and trees. Bowls and trays and goblets of gold and silver. Gold and silver masks, bracelets, necklaces, earrings. Boxes and chests, some all of gold and others of wood with inlays of worked gold. You cannot imagine the sight of it, all piled up, gleaming in the light of our lanterns. We could scarcely believe our eyes. If the others had not been there, I think I would have thought it was a fever dream.”

“And is that what you fought over?” Megan asked softly. “The treasure?”

“Fought over?” Theo grimaced. “No. I told you, I did not hurt Dennis. Someone else killed Dennis.”

“Who? Are you saying Mr. Coffey—”

“No, no. I don’t know who it was.”

“But there was no one else there.”

“Yes, there was. You have to hear all my story. There was another cave, long and low. At one point we had to crawl through it. We got to the end, and we found—well, it opened on the other side of the hill. There was a beautiful enclosed valley. And in this valley was a village. It was lovely, untouched, closed off from the rest of the world. We were uncertain what to do, what our reception would be, so we crawled back into the main cave. My fever continued to grow worse. Dennis did what he could for me, but he was very worried. Finally he felt he had no recourse but to go down to the village.”

Caught up in the story, even knowing that Dennis did not survive, Megan could not help but feel the clutch of worry and fear. “What happened to him? To you?”

“Somehow he communicated with them. I’m not sure how, for they did not speak even Spanish. They spoke in a tongue none of us had ever heard or dreamed of hearing. They were, we think, descendants of the Incas. From what Dennis could gather from their attempts at communication and from some drawings on the wall of the cave, we came to believe that a group of Inca warriors and their families fled from the Spaniards, carrying as much as they could of the treasures of their temple. They found this secluded valley and settled down there. And the people there now are the descendants of the ones who fled.”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Yes. But it is the truth.” Theo looked unwaveringly into her face. “I did not kill your brother, Megan. But I—” Sorrow filled his face. “The truth of the matter is that I did not save him, either. I tried—I swear to you that I tried, but I was still so weak….”

The raw emotion in his voice tugged at Megan’s heart, but she struggled not to let it overcome her reason. “What happened?”

“The villagers seemed friendly, at least at first. Dennis made them understand, I think, that he had a sick companion. A young woman came back with him to the cave. I don’t know who she was. She had long, straight black hair, and she was quite lovely. She gave me a bitter brew to drink. I resisted. It tasted foul, but she insisted, time and again. She tended to me. She lit bowls of incense, and set them at my feet and head. I’m not sure what else happened. I was so feverish that I was delirious half the time. I saw things that—”

He broke off and shook his head. “I woke up one time. I’m not even sure if it was day or night. Everything seemed the same there in the cave. There were torches around the room, casting light. And I saw Dennis struggling with a—a creature.”

“A creature! What do you mean? An animal?”

“No. A man…I think. Frankly, in my delirious state, I took him to be one of the statues of their gods come to life. His face wide and gold, glittering, rising in a high headdress of feathers. His eyes glowed green in the dark. And his body was gold, as well. I cannot explain it. He scarcely seemed human. He was wide and rather boxy, not shaped like a man, and he had scales, golden scales all over him.”

Theo shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know exactly how he looked, how much was real and how much was the product of one of my fevered hallucinations. But it was clear that he was fighting with Dennis. He had a knife, and he slashed at Dennis with it, cutting his arm, his chest. I let out a shout—or at least, I meant to, but it came out as little more than a hoarse whisper. I got to my feet and staggered over there to help him. He had stabbed Dennis, and Dennis fell to the ground. I fell on the fellow. He was hard, and I think he was somehow covered in metal, like golden armor. He shook me off and hit me in the face with his arm, and I tumbled backward.

“The next thing I remember is waking up and finding Julian bending over me, shaking me and telling me to wake up. I sat up and looked over at Dennis. He was lying there dead. There was blood all over his chest and on the ground around him. Julian helped me up, and he told me that one of the priests had killed Dennis. Julian said the villagers were gathering and were coming toward the caves. We had to get out of there. I wanted to take Dennis’s body with me. I couldn’t bear to leave it there. But Coffey pushed me out into the tunnel. He told me we could not wait. The villagers would be there any moment, and we must hurry. We stumbled through the tunnel and out to our burros. He put me on one of the pack animals, and we fled.”

Theo let go of Megan’s hands and stood up abruptly. “I didn’t help Dennis. I left him there. You have ample reason to despise me. I shouldn’t have let Julian rush me out. I should have stayed. We should have brought him out with us, not left him there for his enemies.”