The Sacred Vault

She pulled it from her coat. Behind her came a thump as the guardian cleared the gap and landed on the stairs, bounding up them after her.

Eddie reached Kit and grabbed the ropes. ‘Hang on!’

‘I’m hanging!’ Kit shouted back. ‘Eddie, they’re almost across the bridge!’

The first of the guardians was only a few steps short of the ledge. Looking up, he spotted Nina running for the statue - with a robed man chasing her. ‘Shit!’ He pulled harder—

One of the ropes, weakened by age and weather, snapped. Kit screamed, but jerked to a stop once more after falling only a foot, other lines entangling his ankle.

The first guardian was off the bridge, drawing a savage-looking knife. The man behind him had a sword. More men ran down the stairs towards the two intruders. The only possible escape route was down the ropes to the tier below - but Eddie couldn’t do that until Kit was free. He kept lifting. ‘Grab the ledge!’ he said. Kit bent at the waist, struggling to reach the icy stone. ‘Come on, you’ve almost got it!’

The other man’s fingers closed round a carved outcropping. Eddie let go of the ropes and grabbed his wrist, pulling him on to the ledge. He was safe.

But Kit didn’t even have time to say thanks. The first guardian reached them, lunging with his dagger—

Eddie jerked sideways, the blade slashing his padded sleeve. He whipped up one arm to knock the man’s hand away from him - and slammed his other fist into his face. The robed man fell on his back with a starburst of bright blood around his mouth.

Kit freed his leg, raising his own fists as he faced the group running in from the other direction. ‘What do we do?’

‘Climb down the rope,’ said Eddie.

‘We’ll never make it in time!’

‘Not if you keep yakking - go on! I’ll hold ’em off.’ He snatched up the downed man’s knife as Kit took hold of the rope and hopped over the edge, quickly shimmying down—

And scrambling back up again, even faster. ‘Eddie, there’s a man with a sword underneath me!’

Eddie held up the dagger - and another guardian mirrored his move, only with a blade about three times longer. More men approached from behind. ‘Well . . . arse.’

Nina reached the doors. What she had thought to be carvings were actually separate objects set into the stone: five large wheels arranged in a circle around the ‘keyhole’, smaller wheels set around their edges with dozens of words in Sanskrit written upon each one. What it meant, she had no time to wonder - all she could do was jam the replica key into the lock and hope something happened.

Nothing did.

The key was a perfect fit, but there were no pins or levers or other mechanisms inside the hole. The horrified realisation hit her that the key was symbolic, not physical - the wheels had to be aligned with the faces of Shiva and the five goddesses in a particular way. It was a combination lock.

And she didn’t know the combination.

Key in hand, she spun to find the guardian right behind her, his sword raised. She screamed—

The blow didn’t come. Instead, he held the blade to her throat and dragged her back to the top of the steps. She saw that Eddie and Kit had been captured as well, a dozen men surrounding them.

Her captor was apparently the leader, bellowing a command in Hindi. The others responded by seizing their prisoners and forcing them to the edge of the ledge. Eddie struggled, but a guardian smashed the hilt of a knife against his head.

Nina was thrust forward, wobbling on the brink. Eddie and Kit were shoved into similar precarious positions.

One push would hurl them to their deaths.

She heard her captor take in a breath to shout the order that would kill them.

24

‘Stop!’

The command didn’t come from the man behind Nina. It boomed up from the valley floor, echoing off the stone walls. She looked through the snow - and saw a single figure at the foot of the ruined stairway, dressed in simple orange robes.

Girilal.

The leader hesitated, not delivering the fatal push . . . but not pulling her back to safety either. He shouted down to the old man in Hindi, sounding angry - yet also somehow respectful. Girilal replied in kind, his voice commanding without a hint of chattering faux-lunacy.

Whatever he was saying, it worked. With a frustrated grunt, the leader stepped back, hauling Nina with him. Keeping his sword to her neck, he waved for the others to pull Eddie and Kit away from the edge.

To her shock, his next words were in English. ‘Come with me,’ he growled.

The prisoners were taken to one of the chambers cut into the mountainside. It was much deeper than the others Nina had seen, a passage leading from the archway into a large room with a sheet of animal skin hanging across the entrance to keep out the elements. Fires burned in alcoves carved in the walls, the smoke carried away through cracks above.

She counted at least twenty of the guardians. All were men, ranging from middle age to their teens. They wore the same dark blue robes and their heads were shaved, monk-like. But they were clearly not passive seekers after spiritual perfection. They were warriors, defending the valley to the death.

Another two men brought in Girilal, their attitudes a mix of contempt and deference. The yogi smiled at Nina, then began talking to the leader, his animation in stark contrast to the younger man’s stoic disapproval.

‘He knew about this lot all along,’ Eddie muttered. ‘And he didn’t bloody warn us.’

‘He did, though,’ said Nina. ‘He tried everything he could to put us off. But he couldn’t tell us about these people without confirming that the Vault of Shiva actually existed . . . which was exactly what he was trying to avoid.’

‘But who are they?’ Kit asked. ‘And what’s his connection to them?’

Girilal glanced across. ‘I will answer your questions soon. But first I have to persuade them not to kill you, so please be patient!’

‘I think we can give him a little more time,’ said Nina, nervously regarding the hostile faces surrounding them.

The two men conversed for several minutes before the leader, still clearly displeased by Girilal’s interference, stood before the trio. He was around thirty, tall, with a wiry muscularity. ‘I am Shankarpa,’ he said. ‘You say you are here to protect the Vault of Shiva?’ His English was halting, rusty.

‘Yes,’ Nina replied. ‘I’m Nina Wilde, the director of the United Nations’ International Heritage Agency.’ Shankarpa’s expression was one of incomprehension until Girilal provided an explanation in Hindi. ‘My job is to find important historical sites so they can be shown to the world - and protected from thieves.’

‘We protect the Vault from thieves,’ he told her firmly.

‘Yeah, we noticed,’ said Eddie. ‘You’re a bit more active than your average rentacops, though.’

Nina shushed him. ‘We’re not the only people looking for the Vault. Another group wants to steal the Shiva- Vedas. They’ve already killed to find out where they are, and they’ll kill you too if you try to stop them.’

The mention of the Vedas raised a commotion. ‘How do you know of the Shiva-Vedas?’ Shankarpa demanded.

‘From a man called Talonor. He visited Kedarnath thousands of years ago - the priests told him about the Vault, and showed him the key.’ She indicated the replica amongst their confiscated possessions.

He picked it up, holding the faces of the gods to the firelight. ‘Where did you find this?’ The question was accusing, as if it had been taken from him personally.

Nina decided to simplify the explanation. ‘Talonor pressed the key into a sheet of gold - this is a copy made from it.’