Chapter 30
Morning rose on the hastily assembled military base on the Hebrew University campus, the light penetrating the windows and momentarily blinding the exhausted parents. The officer shook their hands, inviting them to sit around a set table in the middle of the room. He motioned to a soldier in the doorway, saying “Before we go on, there’s someone here you’ll be glad to see.” A moment later, the door opened again and a pale, thin Yoav appeared in the doorway.
Amalia, unthinking, ran toward him. They held one another for a long moment. The officer smiled and cleared his throat. “I thought you’d be happy to meet, but the truth is that Yoav is here for another reason as well,” he said.
Puzzled, Amalia tried to free herself of Yoav’s arms, but he wouldn’t let go and led her to a seat at the table.
“I’m sorry to be a killjoy, but every minute counts,” the officer continued. “We’ve received information about three adolescents – a girl and two boys – who match the descriptions of your children. They’ve been seen wandering around in the tunnels under Jerusalem.”
Everyone started to talk at once.
“Just a minute, I’ll answer all your questions,” the officer said. “We’ve uncovered a whole network of tunnels. It may be simpler just to call it an underground city. The tunnels go everywhere underneath the Old City. The problem is that terrorists are using the tunnels to stage attacks and transport arms. But something seems to have gone wrong because some of the explosives went off inside the tunnel. And, now, I’m getting to the main point. The good news is that the children are alive and seem to be unharmed.”
Sual couldn’t stop her sudden tears. My children are alive, she repeated to herself. My children are alive! Amalia buried her head deep in Yoav’s chest. Theo, feeling he’d been given a second chance, wiped his damp eyes. He looked at Sual joyfully who smiled at him through her tears.
The officer coughed. He was clearly uncomfortable. “The thing is that we think the children have a sort of map of this underground city,” he said.
Theo couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Are you really trying to tell me that the whole state, with its sophisticated intelligence capabilities, is dependent on three kids who somehow got their hands on some map?”
“That’s right,” the officer answered with notable embarrassment. “Mr. Consul, I’m sorry to say, but we’re in a state of emergency. We have well-founded fears that the tunnels are booby-trapped. There are enough explosives down there to blow up half the city, and we must have a map of the tunnels so we can insert our sappers. This means that, at this point, your children are the key to saving the city.”
Sual stood up. “So all that matters to you is the map. Not the children,” she said angrily.
The officer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Look, my job is to protect all the inhabitants of this country. Without the map, we cannot neutralize the tunnels. If the tunnels explode, it could obliterate Jerusalem,” he said earnestly. “Because we found you near Mercy Gate, I think there’s a connection to Yoav’s painting of Mercy Gate. The problem is that we’ve racked our brains and still can’t see the connection. Here is where we need your help.”
“The greater problem is that if we help you, we’re liable to risk our children’s lives,” Sual retorted.
The officer looked at her long and hard, and finally nodded in agreement.
The ensuing silence was tense. Nobody knew what to say. Finally, they all looked at one another.
“We’ll help you,” said Amalia, speaking for all three parents, “but on one condition.”
The white-haired woman led the three teens along the broad main street to the large palace at its end. On either side of the broad steps stood a gilded statue of a phoenix. A golden crown set with precious stones rested on one phoenix’s head. From its open beak, its long red tongue spat water into a pool. All four climbed up the steps to the marble-floored entrance hall.
On seeing the old Mayan smiling at her from the staircase, Anise’s mouth dropped open. His tattoos gleaming, he motioned for them to join him.
The hall they entered now was different from anything they had ever seen. Deer galloped in paintings and lions roared in murals. Anise looked with astonishment at the hyraxes gaily hopping from one picture to the next.
The scent of incense wafted through the room whose floor was covered by an embroidered rug heaped with soft cushions. With a generous sweep of his arm, the old Mayan motioned for them to join him. They sat down and he poured them all tea in dainty glass cups.
“Are you God?” Anise asked shyly.
The old man burst out laughing. “Oh no, I’m not God. And God only knows it’s an impossible job, repaid only with ingratitude. I really wouldn’t want to be in His shoes,” he said, lighting up a long pipe.
“You’re Mayan, right? And this is the lost city,” asked an excited Yam.
The old man smiled and sipped some of the hot tea. “You know that no mortal ever entered the gate. Until today, that is,” he said slowly. “You’re safe here. The Orphils cannot enter. We have our own protection,” he calmed Rae, whose purplish hue had yet to come back to her cheeks. “Look, it’s possible to enter in two ways,” he said, offering the pipe to Mor. “And nobody comes without a reason.”
Mor had never smoked, but he didn’t want to hurt the old man’s feelings, so he took the carved pipe and inhaled lightly. All of a sudden, the room started to spin. He closed his eyes and saw Sual picking up the one-year-old Mor in her arms. Mor could
