They could be looking at artifacts and a culture dating back thousands of years.
Ben signaled him to stop and then tapped his ear. Jack paused to listen. A low sound came from one of the openings leading off the chamber. A soft humming, deep in timbre. It was quiet at first, rising and falling in pitch and growing slowly in volume.
Jack leaned into the tunnel, trying to hear the sound more clearly. Without warning, it picked up in intensity and volume. He could tell it was the N’watu—he could hear multiple voices, though he could not discern exactly how many. It sounded like some sort of chant.
Ben gestured for him to back away from the entrance. “We need to find a way out of here,” he whispered. “It sounds like some kind of ceremony or something. But as long as they’re down that tunnel, we should try heading down one of these others.”
“Which one?”
Ben looked around the cave and then pointed to one of the openings across the way. “That one looks like it leads up.”
They crossed the chamber to the other side, and Jack paused to inspect one of the bowls of slime. They had been situated around the room like little tiki torches lighting up someone’s backyard deck.
They crept into the passage and found that it did indeed angle upward. And after a few yards it also narrowed considerably. Suddenly Ben motioned for him to stop.
The droning chant they’d heard coming from the other passage now seemed to be coming from in front of them again. Ben motioned him closer. “It looks like all these side passages lead to a common chamber. We’ll have to find another way.”
But Jack shook his head. His curiosity was breaking through his apprehension. “Let’s see what’s going on.”
Ben glared at him. “Are you crazy?”
But Jack dug his video camera out of his pack. “I have to see what they’re doing. I have to document it. I need proof.”
He crawled past Ben and within several yards he stopped, crouching low in the tunnel as Ben crept up behind him. They were looking down on a circular chamber much larger than the first and filled with bowls of the luminescent slime. There were at least a dozen N’watu figures throughout the room, crouched or kneeling in awkward positions with their heads lowered, humming a rather dissonant tune. Jack turned on the camera’s night- vision setting and peered at the screen. He could see that the walls were covered with various drawings and writing. It did indeed look like some kind of ceremonial chamber.
Jack could also see another figure, smaller than the others, standing at the far end of the room. It appeared to be a woman, clothed in what looked like a shroud of black veils and adorned with beaded armlets, necklaces, and bracelets. Her face was hidden by a veil that covered her head down to her chin, but she seemed to be the focus of all the attention.
Jack leaned back and whispered to Ben, “It looks like she’s the matriarch of the tribe. Like a female shaman.”
Jack noticed movement at the far end as two N’watu males entered from a side passage, carrying what looked like a large papier-mache beach ball, though it was only roughly spherical. It was a lumpy gray monstrosity, yet they bore it with great care. They sported strange headdresses, each with a set of horns that curved up and forward. And they also wore what appeared to be short leather tunics with two more pairs of the horns sewn into them somehow. The tunics draped across their backs so that the horns stuck out to the sides. Jack looked closer and could see that they were in fact the legs of the cave spiders. It was obvious their garb was intended to mimic the creatures.
The chants in the cave grew louder when these men appeared, and the woman began moaning as they approached her—a soft, rasping sound more like the yowling of an angry cat than a human voice. If there were any words, Jack could not make them out.
They brought the ball in front of the woman, and Jack could see she was holding something in her hands. A tool or knife of some sort. Jack peered closer. It was a knife—a long, crudely fashioned blade.
She muttered some further incoherent words and plunged the knife into the ball, slicing open a small incision. Jack saw the gray mass shudder in the grasp of the two bearers. The sides quivered as if the thing were made of Jell-O. She slipped her hand into the opening and pulled out a fistful of…
There was something moving in her grasp, tiny, translucent, and wriggling. She held her fist up and spoke again.
Now Jack could see the thing in her hand was one of the cave spiders. A hatchling. Though only an infant, it looked to be about the size of her whole fist. Maybe three or four inches across, Jack guessed. Its transparent outer skeleton appeared to be still unformed, and its tiny limbs protruded between her clenched fingers. She lowered her hand and shoved the hapless creature into her mouth, chewing it with obvious enjoyment.
Jack recoiled, and beside him Ben’s face registered similar disgust.
Jack whispered, “It looks like an egg sac. But it’s huge. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He wished Rudy could have been there. He’d be able to offer a better analysis.
The woman reached inside the egg sac and plucked out a second spider as one of the N’watu stood and approached her. He knelt down in front of the woman as she fed the wriggling creature into his mouth. One by one, the rest of the N’watu rose and approached the woman. As they did, she would pluck hatchlings from the sac, say a few words, and shove them into their mouths like some bizarre form of Communion.
After the dozen or so N’watu had come forward, she scooped the rest of the hatchlings into a large bowl as one of the men stood beside it with a stone, mashing their bodies into a writhing slush. Jack could hear faint squeals and squeaks as the baby spiders were crushed against the inside of the bowl.
They were careful not to let any escape.
Ben pulled Jack back from the ledge. “So they
“It’s like some kind of ceremony for them,” Jack whispered. “If they worship these spiders, maybe they believe that eating them… I don’t know… gives them a kind of communion with their spirits.”
Ben stuck his thumb over his shoulder. “We need to get out of here.
He crept back down the tunnel, and a few moments later Jack followed quietly, his head still buzzing and his stomach churning from the horrific ceremony he’d just seen.
As he reached the first chamber, Jack heard Ben swear and stood to find himself face to face with four N’watu warriors. Their tall, gaunt, and sickly pale bodies were covered with black tattoos, and they held long wooden spears in their hands. Pointed directly at Jack and Ben.
Chapter 14
Jack stood, numb with terror, as more of the N’watu entered from the adjacent tunnel. In moments they were surrounded by at least a dozen pale-skinned warriors. Their tattooed faces held little emotion, but their fierce, colorless eyes glowed yellow in the dim light of the chamber.
Yet none of them spoke.
“What do we do?” Jack whispered to Ben. The sound of his voice sent a chorus of grunts and snarls among the warriors.
Some of the N’watu leaned closer, driving the tips of their stone spearheads against Jack’s throat.
Jack fought the urge to attempt to communicate with them, to make some kind of peaceful gesture. This culture, isolated as it had been from the outside world for so long, obviously held more animosity than curiosity toward outsiders. They didn’t seem intrigued or fearful. They probably saw all intruders as a threat. Or more likely as a future sacrifice.
Suddenly a low, catlike voice filled the chamber.
The N’watu parted slightly to reveal the black-veil-clad woman he’d seen earlier. She stood inside the entrance of the passage, regarding Jack and Ben as if they were a pair of foxes cornered by her hunting dogs. Then she moved across the chamber between the warriors. It was clear that she commanded a high level of respect.
