He willed something to jump out at him, but nothing did. He was completely, utterly stumped. Not for the first time, failure sprung up in his mind, threatening to eat at his throat, to cause him to yell in frustration. So much was riding on this. The fate of the world. And more importantly, the fate of his brother and his friends.
He leaned against one of the two stone Markaras flanking the steps, fighting down panic. He recognized the fish-like creatures from the temple in Kathmandu, where this all started. How odd they had looked then, guarding the entrance to the temple.
There are many theories of how it is obtained. Some even say it is taken from the mouth of the Makara.
The words from the woman in the temple rebounded through his mind, and he froze, his eyes wide.
“Oh my god,” he said. It fit too well.
Oh my Buddha, you mean, Rocky’s voice said in his head. He ignored the joke he knew his friend would make. Now wasn’t the time.
“What?” Banks said with alarm, reaching instinctively toward his leg, where James knew a gun was hidden. “What is it?”
He examined the head of the statue, with its wide eyes, flowing mane, and strange, curled-up nose. The Makara’s mouth was half open, a small, dark cave leading into its head.
The square around the pagoda had mostly cleared, with the few remaining stragglers far on the other side, not paying him any mind. Feeling foolish, he rolled up his sleeve and slowly put his hand into the mouth of the Makara.
The hole went farther than he thought, and he was in almost to his shoulder before his hand scraped the back. He felt around with his hand, the cool stone of the creature’s tongue resting against his forearm. At first, he just felt flat stone. But then his fingers scraped some sort of lever. He pulled it, and there was a click. He waited, expectant. But nothing happened.
He stepped back and glanced at the twin statue on the other side of the wide stairs. An idea came to him. “Banks, can you go over to that statue? Reach inside its mouth. There might be a lever. Maybe we have to pull them at the same time.”
“Yeah, that’ll look really inconspicuous,” Banks muttered, but he walked to the other statue.
He was right, of course. If anybody saw two men reaching into the mouths of the statues, they’d at least ask questions. James leaned casually against the Makara as Banks made his way over to the other one, eyeing the people around them. But luckily, nobody seemed to be paying any attention.
Banks reached the other statue and stuck his arm in its mouth. It looked like the sea creature was swallowing him whole. After a few moments, Banks gave a thumbs-up with his free hand. He’d found the lever.
James reached his hand into the mouth again, heart pounding. This could be it. He wrapped his fingers around the lever and held up his free hand, three fingers extended, so Banks could see it. He lowered one at a time. Three... two...
James pulled the lever. This time there was a click, and instead of retracting, the lever stayed in place. A strange, mechanical rumbling came from deep within the statue, like gears turning. This went on for several seconds, then stopped. The lever slipped from James’s fingers as it retracted on its own.
He waited for a door to pop open or a secret staircase to be revealed.
Nothing happened.
Banks walked back toward him, brow furrowed.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” James said. “But I don’t see anything.”
“Maybe we should take a lap,” Banks suggested. “If an entrance opened, it wouldn’t be immediately obvious.”
“Right,” James said, back to being unsure. This was complicated. Why all this effort to hide the stone? And why hadn’t Roerich just kept it for himself?
They did a lap around the base, once again examining the stone for any differences. It looked exactly the same, smooth and impassive. Banks suggested checking the top again, and James agreed. They climbed up and once again came face to face with the child Buddha.
“What are you hiding?” James muttered, examining the child’s golden, smiling face, his finger pointing up, the other pointing down. Wait...
The lower hand, which had been pointing straight down before, was twisted unnaturally so that it now pointed to the right.
“I’m not just imagining things, right?” James said. “He was pointing down before, and now he’s not?”
“Oh,” Banks said, noticing it for the first time. “That must mean...”
They set off at a brisk walk to the right, around the top ring of the pagoda, until they came across the next statue. This one was an older Buddha sitting cross-legged, and the difference was immediately obvious. One of the hands that lay in his lap had closed into a fist, except for a single finger, which pointed to the right.
They kept going, nearly jogging, James’s stomach bubbling with excitement. The next statue was the Buddha standing, looking like a teacher, and the symbol he was making with his hands had also changed. A finger pointed to the right.
They reached the final statue, which depicted the Buddha at rest, lying on a thick, golden slab. Nothing about the statue seemed to have changed, but something else had—the small, waist-high fence in front of each statue, preventing tourists from touching them, was gone, retracted into the ground.
James immediately knew what to do. It was like the puzzle had finally been solved; he just had to place the final piece. He stepped forward, into the alcove, and stood over the resting Buddha.
“I hope this isn’t sacrilegious,” James said, glancing back at Banks with a smile.
Banks opened his mouth to say something, perhaps a clever quip, as Rocky would.
A gunshot rang through the air.
Banks stumbled forward with a grunt, falling to one knee. James whipped his head around and his heart fell into his stomach. The plaza was completely clear of tourists.
