couple of days. She hadn't even admitted that she had inhaled them herself. But what was this about Jones?
One thing seemed certain now: she wasn't about to say she was Pythia. So Panos had lost. She wasn't going to cooperate as he'd hoped. Why would she? The stonema son had been a fool to think she would.
'When do these vapors rise?' the king asked. 'They seem to come and go irregularly. Wouldn't you say, Stephanos?'
Now why had she said that, and placed him in the position of agreeing with a lie? He cleared his throat.
'Well, they seem to come less and less often with each succeeding day.'
The next one was due anytime; she must know it. But maybe in all the distraction with the king's visit, she'd forgotten. He wondered if he should mention it. But what if he was wrong? The king would think he was a fool. He might even lose his position here if the king decided to wait for the vapors and nothing happened. No, he couldn't take any chances.
Doumas moved closer to Belecamus as she led the way
past the tilting columns of the temple. When he got a chance, he'd mention the timing of the vapors, and let her handle it. But she seemed anxious to keep moving and told the king that he could see the crevice from atop the mound.
'Mr. Jones, why don't you tell his Highness about your experience?' Belecamus said as she took the king's arm, and guided him up the mound. 'You know more about it than anyone else.'
Incredible, Doumas thought. First, the colonel guiding the way, now Jones, who wasn't any more qualified, was going to take over. He didn't want any part of it. Reluctantly, he trailed after the others, stopping about halfway up the mound near the king's two aides.
As the king peered into the crevice, Jones talked about his fall. He described the tablet, and to Doumas'
surprise gave an accurate account of what it had said. The king, however, didn't seem very interested. He listened as Jones described his fall onto a ledge, then interrupted and ask how the vapors had affected him.
'I think the vapors have a healing effect,' Indy said, but he didn't sound very convinced himself. 'You see, I was injured in my fall, but I recovered very rapidly.'
'And no ill effects?'
Jones shook his head.
He didn't look much better, Doumas thought.
'I would like to test these vapors myself sometime,' the king said.
Not if they caused you to act like Belecamus, Doumas thought. He took a couple of steps forward, suddenly realizing that Belecamus was setting something up. The king was going to see the vapors, and maybe inhale them.
Now Belecamus was talking about the tablet and the return of the oracle. 'In fact, some villagers say there's an
old prophecy about Pythia returning after an earthquake and around the time the king arrives.'
The king smiled. 'Is that so?'
Doumas sucked in his breath as he realized he'd been mistaken. She was going to do it.
Just then, as if their speaking of the vapors had called them up, Doumas heard the telltale rumble and hissing. The gases started rising. She'd planned it this way. Maybe she was Pythia. But then she stepped down off the top of the mound as the vapors covered their ankles. Mandraki moved ahead of her, and blocked the two aides from reaching the king.
'Let them be,' he ordered.
'Your Highness,' one of the aides called out as the vapors billowed around the king's chest and shoulders. But the king ignored him. Belecamus abruptly turned away from Mandraki and disappeared into the vapors with the king and Jones as the gases completely engulfed them. It was all happening so fast that Doumas hardly noticed that Panos and Grigoris were among them.
Suddenly, chaos reigned in the temple. Panos charged up the mound toward them, but Mandraki shoved him back down. The two aides were frantic, clawing their way toward the king. Mandraki struggled to contain them,.but just then Grigoris barreled into the colonel.
Again, Panos charged up the mound and this time vanished into the vapors. Mandraki had his hands full with Grigoris and the aides and didn't see what was happening. Doumas watched in stunned disbelief until a scream that was more animal than human pierced the air. Shivers radiated up his spine. He knew that Belecamus was transforming into Pythia. It was happening, and just the way Panos had planned it. He heard Panos's voice proclaiming Pythia's presence.
No. He had to stop them. He was the one who must have the power, not Panos. He struggled up the mound,
stumbled, and slipped backwards. He could hear Dorian babbling, and the king's voice. He crawled ahead, climbed to his feet, and hurled himself into the vapors at the spot where Panos had disappeared.
The cloud of vapors shut out the others. The commotion beyond the vapors seemed distant, unimportant.
Even the king, who stood within Indy's reach, appeared ghostlike, a dim silhouette. But he could hear him filling his lungs with great breathfuls of the vapors.
'Sir. Your Highness.' Was that how he should address him? The king ignored him. 'Excuse me, Your Highness.' He had to tell him about the danger. But how was he going to save Shannon and Conrad, and himself? Their lives were in danger no matter what happened to the king.
'My hip is already healing.' Jubilance riddled the king's voice. 'This place is a miracle.'
Before Indy could say anything further, another figure swirled through the vapors. It was Dorian. Her hair was standing on end as she tossed her head spasmodically from side to side. Spittle ran down her jaw. Her eyes threatened to burst from their sockets. She screamed.
'What's wrong with you?' the king gasped.
Then Panos was moving behind her. 'Your Highness, Pythia has returned,' he boomed. 'What is it you wish to ask?'
The king stared. Pythia moved closer to him and leered at him, her tongue hanging from her mouth. 'Get away; get away from me.'
Suddenly, she was babbling. The words gushed from her mouth, but made no sense. Indy detected a familiar word here, a phrase there. Latin. French. Greek. English. But it was gibberish.
'Pythia is addressing you, Your Highness,' Panos said. 'She says you are the one who should get away.
You are in
danger. Someone very near wants to kill you. Flee this place; flee now for your life. But go with the knowledge that Delphi will soon rise in fame again, and the fortunes of our country will change.'
'Who are you to tell me this?' the king demanded. 'It is not I; it is Pythia who speaks.' The king looked skeptically at Dorian. Her head hung to the side, her eyes were closed, and she was rocking back and forth.
'She is Pythia?'
Indy jerked his head as the hulking figure of Doumas appeared. His arms were outstretched; he lunged for Panos and grabbed him around the waist. Dorian was knocked off her feet; her head bounced hard against the ground. Indy lurched toward her, but Doumas and Panos rammed into him.
Indy stumbled back, trying to recover his balance, but his feet slipped over the edge of the crevice. He slid down, clawing at the earth until he clutched a partially buried rock at the very brink of the hole. But the rock was loose.
He pulled as hard as he could, raising his chest over the edge of the hole just as the rock broke free. His legs dangled; he inched forward, threw a leg over the top, then rolled over on his back.
He looked up just in time to see a foot about to stomp on his face. He grabbed it at the last instant and shoved it back. Then he saw that the foot belonged to Grigoris, who was coming at him again. But Doumas collared him. He held father and son by their necks and spun them in circles dangerously close to the edge.
At any moment they could tumble over, and take Indy with them.
Indy tried to roll further away from the crevice, but as he did several feet tripped over him and bodies tumbled toward the crevice. Someone yelled, and Indy saw hands grappling for purchase. He reached out and
