“Wow,” James said. The pagoda was at least a hundred feet tall, a work of art, a man-made achievement.
“Let’s go,” Banks said, clearly unappreciative of the beauty. He had grown quiet, more sullen the closer they got to the end. It made James miss Rocky even more than he already did. Rocky would crack a joke in even the most serious situations.
They climbed the vast steps, eventually reaching the top level, right next to the dome. James put his hands on his hips, breathing heavily. The monument was even taller than it looked. It offered an amazing view of the flat landscape. Far in the distance, James could see the rolling mountains.
In front of them, an archway cut through the stone. A golden statue of the Buddha sat cross-legged within it, his hands resting in his lap, a serene smile on his face. On the wall behind him, a golden tree rose up against a blue background. A small, golden fence sat in front of the statue, probably to prevent tourists from climbing all over it, as tourists were wont to do.
“So what are we looking for?” Banks asked.
“I... Well, I don’t know. Let’s just take a look around,” James said.
“Great.”
They went in opposite directions, walking slowly around the dome. At each point of the compass, there was a statue of the Buddha inlaid in the dome, four of them in total. The first one James passed depicted him seated, wearing long, flowing robes, like a wise, old teacher.
James continued around the dome. The next statue depicted the Buddha’s body, laid to rest on a slab of stone at the base of a building, trees growing around him. The final statue, which James found Banks standing in front of while he rubbed his chin, showed the Buddha as a child. He stood proudly in front of a background of trees, one hand lifted, a single finger pointing toward the sky.
“Anything?” Banks said.
James shook his head. Were they missing something, some sort of clue? Or were they in the wrong place entirely? He cast his thoughts toward what he knew about the Buddha. There wasn’t much there, unfortunately. James knew he was the blessed one and that this, or somewhere near here, was apparently his birthplace. But this pagoda hadn’t been built until right after World War Two, according to Tom. That would have been around the same time Roerich apparently came to Lumbini to hide the stone. Were they related?
“You don’t think we’re supposed to, you know, go inside, do you?” Banks said.
“I don’t think we can,” James said. The dome was completely smooth. If there was a room inside, there was no doorway in sight. “Besides, that seems a bit on the nose, doesn’t it? Like, we just walk in and find the stone? It’s too easy.”
Deep in thought, James stared at the statue of the child Buddha. It was powerful, seeing the Buddha at both the beginning and end of his life. Laid out like that, it seemed so short. One moment you were a child. The next, an old man. The child’s raised hand was like an acknowledgment of his youth, a daring proclamation of life. Give me all you’ve got, it said. James followed the child’s pointed finger up, up, all the way to the top of the pagoda. There, the golden pinnacle extended from the top of the dome, and he could see it closer now, his head craned back. It was a masterful golden work, with dozens of wroughts curved like flames. In the middle of the flames was a circular object, all gold. It was shaped like an egg... or a stone.
James’s gaze snapped back to the statue. Could it be?
He examined the statue’s closed eyes, its smiling face. The young Buddha wore nothing but a pair of shorts. Behind him, a low building sat among the trees, almost a wall. His gaze fell to the Buddha’s other hand, which pointed straight down with one finger extended. One hand pointed up, toward a symbol of the stone. Another finger pointed straight down.
“It’s under the temple,” he murmured.
“What?” Banks said from beside him.
James explained his reasoning, but Banks seemed unconvinced. James wasn’t wholly convinced himself, but it made some sort of sense. The directions to the stone were hidden in plain sight, only visible to one who knew where to look. It was tricky, but not impossible.
“There must be, what, a hidden entrance?” Banks said.
James nodded. They climbed back down the steps onto solid ground, then walked slowly around the perimeter of the whole monument, examining the walls of the bottom layer for a hidden door, a lever, anything. But it was perfectly smooth, the stone uninterrupted by even a crack or a blemish. Back at the front, they stopped, stumped.
“I don’t think we’re just going to stumble on a door,” James said, shielding his eyes from the sun. The golden spire at the top sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. “It has to be more complicated.” Or it’s not here at all.
“I’m not going to be much help. You’re the one that figured this out,” Banks said. “Is there anything you learned about this Roerich guy that can help us? Anything about the Buddha?”
James sighed, completely overwhelmed. How was he supposed to solve some century-old riddle about the stone’s hiding place when he could barely even finish his math homework or say the Super used his powers for good in Spanish? What if he was wrong? What if Banks had
