There was something inside the doors. As Nina’s vision adjusted to the darkness, it revealed what she at first took to be two stone blocks, about five feet high and three feet apart, before realising they were merely the ends of larger constructs. Together, they formed the two halves of a steeply sloping ramp that rose a good thirty feet at the far end, dropping almost to floor level before rising back up; the comparison that leapt instantly to her mind was a ski-jump.

There was no snow inside the chamber, though. So what was it for?

An answer came as she and Shankarpa moved further into the cave, the others following. Something was perched at the top of the ramp, slender parts extending out to each side like wings . . .

Not like wings. They were wings.

‘It’s a glider!’ Nina cried, completely forgetting the threat of the guardians as she ran for a better look. ‘Khoil told me about the stories in the ancient Indian epics where the gods had flying machines. I thought they were just legends - but they were true!’

‘The vimanas,’ said Girilal. He laughed. ‘My father told me those stories when I was a boy - and I told them to my own son. Do you remember?’

‘I remember,’ said Shankarpa, amazed.

Nina started to climb the ramp, eager to see the craft at the top. ‘What Talonor said in the Codex all makes sense now. This is why it took the priests one day to get up here, and only an hour to get back - they flew! They released the glider, it slid down the ramp, then hit the ski-jump at the end and flew out down the valley.’ She examined the stone slide; it was smoothly polished, with a small lip at the outer edge to guide a runner on the glider itself.

Eddie looked back through the doors, seeing the cliff at the far end of the canyon. ‘They’d have to pull up pretty sharpish when they took off. Cock things up, and you’d smack into that wall.’

Nina shone her flashlight at the glider. It had an organic appearance, the wings formed from gracefully curved wooden spars. The wood itself was dark and glossy, given some kind of treatment to strengthen and preserve it. Between the spars, the fabric of the wings was still stretched taut. It appeared to be a fine, lightweight silk, covered in dust and yellowed with age.

‘This is incredible!’ she said as Shankarpa ascended the other ramp. ‘The ancient Hindus had actual, working flying machines before the Greeks even came up with the myth of Daedalus. And it took until the sixteenth century before Leonardo designed anything similar.’ The glider’s undercarriage was made from the same wood, a trapezoidal frame with ski-like metal runners attached. These weren’t as corroded as she would have expected; the cavern was dry as well as cold. The craft seemed designed to carry at least two people, lying prone on a slatted platform beneath the wing.

Girilal grinned up at her. ‘Well, it is often said that we Indians invented everything.’

‘Who says that?’ Eddie asked.

‘We Indians,’ Kit told him.

Nina directed her light along the ancient aircraft’s fuselage. At the end of the slender wooden body was a fan-shaped tail. There was something affixed beneath it, a long black cylinder protruding out past the end of the glider’s frame. At first she was puzzled as to what it might be . . . before a cord hanging from its end gave her a clue: a fuse. ‘Here’s something else you might have invented before anyone else,’ she said. ‘Rockets.’

‘You’re kidding!’ said Eddie. ‘I thought the Chinese invented them.’

‘I think they’ll be very annoyed when they find out someone beat them to it. They came up with gunpowder around the ninth century, but our friends here were using it thousands of years earlier. It must be how they got up enough speed to launch.’

Below, Girilal walked round the base of the ramp. ‘Look here,’ he called.

Nina aimed the flashlight down to find him prodding his stick at a stack of more black tubes. ‘Careful, don’t poke them! They’ve been here for who knows how long - they might be unstable.’

Eddie had a different opinion. ‘More likely they won’t work at all. Depends how they made the gunpowder - if they didn’t corn it properly, the different ingredients’ll probably have separated by now.’ He caught his wife’s surprised expression. ‘I did explosives training in the SAS - it’s handy to know this stuff if you’re going to blow things up.’

‘Well, either way, let’s not put any naked flames near them.’ She descended the ramp. By now, her eyes had become more accustomed to the low light. ‘Oh, wow. This isn’t the only glider - the place is more like a hangar.’ To one side were several more vimanas. Other mysterious objects lurked in the darkness. ‘This flashlight isn’t going to cut it,’ she said. ‘We need something bigger.’

‘This might do,’ proclaimed Girilal. The old yogi had wandered a little further into the cavern, and was standing by a metal brazier on a stone pedestal. Nina illuminated it - and discovered that a narrow groove had been cut into the floor behind it, leading deeper into the chamber. She followed it with the light until it split, and tracked one of the arms until it divided again, eventually reaching another brazier some distance away. There was a liquid at the bottom of the channel, but from Girilal’s excitement she knew it wasn’t water.

She went to him. ‘It’s oil,’ she said, stirring away the covering of dust with a fingertip and sniffing it. ‘A lighting system. Start one fire, and it spreads through the whole cave to light the other braziers.’

‘I thought we didn’t want to start any fires,’ said Eddie, looking at the pile of rockets.

‘We’ll be safe as long as nobody knocks this thing over. Let me get my stuff.’

She retrieved her pack from outside, finding a box of waterproof survival matches. ‘Shall we take a look?’ she asked Shankarpa.

‘Light it,’ he ordered.

She struck the match and touched it to the line of oil. It took a moment to ignite, but when it did the results made everyone flinch back. A line of fire raced away down the groove, splitting again and again at each branch as it spread through the cavern. Something hissed and fizzed inside each brazier in turn as the fire reached it - small packets of gunpowder catching light, the heat spreading to the tinder and coal above them. Flames began to rise.

The great chamber filled with a flickering amber light. Objects gradually took on form, incredible treasures; golden statues of gods and men and animals; elaborate carved friezes decorated with jewels and precious metals; beautifully painted frescos and gorgeous embroidered silks showing scenes from the lives of Shiva and his wives. Amongst the artworks were strange machines, as mystifying in the glow from the braziers as they had been as shadows. A giant wheel with dozens of leather pouches hanging from its rim; a great wooden framework, hundreds of glinting metal arrowheads protruding from it; a massive stone roller studded with long, thick iron bars. Not far from the ramp was what resembled a miniature palace, cupolas picked out in gold. Connected to a circular ring around its top was an enormous fabric bag, which stretched away, deflated and flaccid, almost to the Vault’s side wall.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Eddie. ‘Shiva’s got a big garage.’

‘This is amazing,’ Nina whispered. ‘What are all these things?’ She went to the little palace. It had a gate in one wall; she gingerly pushed it open to reveal another brazier inside, as well as several straight-bladed swords in a rack on one wall. ‘It’s like a dollhouse.’

‘Mayayantras,’ said Girilal. ‘“Magic machines”. The Vedas and the epic texts tell of them being used in battles.’

Shankarpa was more specific. ‘This is a sarvato-bhadra,’ he said, going to the great wheel. It was supported on each side by wooden beams. He held up a pouch, which had something heavy, about the size of a human head, inside. The leather had been cut into a shape strongly resembling a slingshot. ‘It throws stones, hundreds at a time.’

‘Everybody must get stoned!’ Eddie cried nasally and tunelessly. All eyes turned to him. ‘You know, Bob Dylan? Okay, you probably don’t know. Forget it.’

‘How did they get them in here?’ asked Kit. ‘None of them would fit through that cave into the valley.’

‘They must have been assembled in here,’ said Nina. ‘They’re exhibits - just as much Shiva’s treasures as any of these statues.’ She joined Shankarpa. ‘These things are all mentioned in the epics?’

‘Yes, and in the carvings in the valley,’ he said. He pointed to the grid of arrowheads. ‘That is a sara-yantra - it fires a hundred arrows at once. An udghatima’ - the stone roller - ‘to break down castle walls.’

Nina looked more closely at the ancient war machines. Stone and metal weights were suspended from chains running through pulleys to their axles. She had seen - and almost been the victim of - similar simple but effective gravity-powered mechanisms before; they were still primed even after the endless centuries. ‘Impressive. Just don’t touch them - they might go off.’ She indicated the ‘dollhouse’. ‘What about this?’

Father and son exchanged looks. ‘A flying palace,’ said Shankarpa.

‘From what was written in the Ramayana, I thought it would be a lot bigger.’ Girilal sounded almost disappointed.

Eddie and Kit, meanwhile, had been examining the interior. ‘You know what this is?’ said the Yorkshireman. ‘A hot-air balloon.’ He rapped the brazier. ‘Here’s your fire, and you’ve got the bottom of the balloon up there.’

Nina regarded the great mound of fabric in wonder. ‘It’s incredible. First the Chinese lose gunpowder to India, and now the French have to give up balloons. There’ll be some very angry historians once word about this place gets out.’

‘If it gets out,’ said Shankarpa, a warning tone returning to his voice. ‘All these are just toys compared to the power of the words of Lord Shiva. We must find the Shiva-Vedas - and then I shall decide what to do with you.’

‘Where would they be?’ asked Kit.

‘In the deepest part of the Vault,’ Nina suggested. ‘Come on.’ She led the way into the cavern, following the flickering trail of oil. They passed numerous other siege machines - some resembling ballistas and catapults, others battering rams shaped to look like elephants and goats, as well as more examples of those near the ramp - before approaching the rear wall.

It was immediately obvious where the Shiva-Vedas were kept. A figure guarded a narrow passageway cut into the rock, a statue twenty feet tall.

‘You know what?’ said Eddie. ‘Looks like Spielberg was right all along.’

Shankarpa was awed by the sight. ‘Kali . . .’ he whispered.

The jet-black goddess was almost something from a nightmare, mouth twisted in fury. Her eyes and protruding tongue were painted blood-red, her naked body adorned with a garland round her neck - not of flowers, but of human skulls. But the most prominent feature was her arms: all ten of them. Most of them clutched weapons, deadly blades shining in the firelight - several swords, a trident, the double-ended club of a huge vajra, even the disc of a chakram. One foot was firmly planted on the floor beside a small opening at the end of the passage, the other suspended threateningly above it as if ready to stamp on anyone trying to pass beneath.

The guardians responded to the sight with great reverence, even fear. Worshipping one Hindu god, such as Shiva, did not preclude also worshipping others, and as both Shiva’s wife and one of the most powerful deities in the pantheon Kali demanded respect.

Even Eddie felt a little intimidated. ‘I see why she’s the goddess of death. Ten arms to kill you with? She’s not messing around.’

‘No, no,’ said Girilal, almost amused. ‘There is much more to Kali than death. Do you see? Two of her hands are empty.’

Nina saw that instead of holding weapons, the thumbs and fingers formed symbols. ‘What do they mean?’

‘That one,’ he said, pointing with his stick, ‘is a sign that she will protect you. She may be fierce, but she is also a loving mother - and a mother will do anything to protect her children. The other means “do not be afraid” - you have nothing to fear if you trust her.’

Kit moved forward, gazing up at the towering figure. ‘So Lord Shiva left Kali to guard his Vault?’

‘Who else but Kali would he trust to destroy all intruders?’ Shankarpa said firmly.

Nina directed her flashlight at the statue for a better look. ‘The question is . . . will she destroy everyone who tries to get the Shiva-Vedas? Do you know how to reach them?’

‘That knowledge was also lost a long time ago.’

‘Swell. So we’ll have to figure this out too.’ She brought the light down to examine one of the statue’s weapons, but Kit blocked the beam. ‘Excuse me, Kit - I need to see.’

‘Oh, sorry.’ He moved away . . .

Into the passage.

‘Kit, wait!’ Nina shouted as she suddenly realised the danger - but too late.

The statue came to life.

The eight arms bearing weapons all moved at once as ancient mechanisms inside the statue ground into action, slashing down into the narrow tunnel. One of the swords stabbed at Kit. He jumped back in shock—

Not quickly enough. The giant blade’s tip hacked deep into his shin with a spurt of blood.

He screamed and fell, clutching the wound. Kali’s arms screeched back to their original positions and juddered to a stop.

Eddie was the first to risk advancing, pulling Kit out of the passage. ‘Let me see,’ he said, carefully easing up Kit’s blood-soaked trouser leg to find that he had been cut to the bone, a chunk of his calf muscle peeled back like dog-gnawed meat. ‘Shit, that’s deep. Nina, is the first-aid kit in your gear?’

She retrieved it, Eddie putting on a pair of disposable vinyl gloves and starting to clean the wound. ‘This’ll hurt,’ he warned Kit. ‘Sorry, but there’s no anaesthetic. I’ll go as easy as I can.’

Nina held the injured man’s hand. ‘Just try to stay calm.’

‘That is . . . easier said than done,’ Kit gasped through his teeth. ‘My parents always warned me that if I behaved badly, Kali would punish me. But I never imagined it would actually happen!’

‘You haven’t behaved badly. It would have happened whoever went into the passage.’ She looked up at the statue, its red eyes staring menacingly back at her. A booby trap, a last line of defence for the treasures at the heart of the Vault. But there had to be a way past it - the priests who had shown the Shiva-Vedas to Talonor obviously knew it . . .

‘Okay, I’m going to stitch it up,’ Eddie reported. ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Like the goddess just chopped off my foot,’ Kit rasped.

‘You’ll be okay. Just try to breathe slowly.’ He pushed the needle through the flesh, and Kit’s entire body tensed.

Girilal and Shankarpa moved past to stare in awe at the statue. The old yogi hesitantly extended his stick into the passage, pushing the tip down on the first stone slab of its floor. Kali burst into movement again, the long sword arcing down. The blade chopped through the wood as both men jumped away, then returned to its original position.

‘And this was a very good stick,’ Girilal said sadly, holding up the truncated end of his staff.

Even while trying to comfort Kit, Nina couldn’t help turning her mind to the trap. ‘Anyone walking down the passage triggers it. And even if you could climb to the end without touching the floor, you still have to drop down to go through the opening at the end. And when you do . . .’ She indicated the giant stone foot poised above the gap. ‘You get stomped.’

‘Just like Shiva,’ said Girilal, thoughtful.

‘What do you mean?’

‘There was a demon called Raktabija,’ he told her, ‘who seemed impossible to kill in battle because every time he was cut, when his blood touched the ground another copy of him leapt up. Only Kali was strong enough to destroy him - she drank all the blood from Raktabija’s body, then ate his clones! But she became drunk with victory and danced across the battlefield, crushing the dead under her feet. To stop her, Shiva pretended to be one of the corpses, and when Kali realised she had stepped on her husband, she was ashamed and became calm again.’

‘Did she kill him?’ Nina asked.

‘No, she stopped just before she crushed him.’

Eddie finished stitching Kit’s injury. ‘Doesn’t help us get past, though.’

‘There has to be a way through,’ Nina said. She saw a spear beside another siege engine. ‘Shankarpa, try that. Maybe there’s a pattern to the way the arms move, a safe route.’

Shankarpa pushed the spear’s tip against the slab. The arms swung into action once more, blades flashing through the air. Nina’s hope that a route through the gauntlet might be revealed was rapidly dashed; the stabbing, hacking and crushing blows covered the passage’s entire width.

‘So much for that,’ she said as Shankarpa withdrew the shortened spear.

The leader of the guardians frowned. ‘But you are right - there must be a way. I will see if anyone remembers anything from our carvings.’ He turned to the other robed men.

Nina could tell from the tone of their responses that they were unlikely to be saying anything useful. She moved back to Kit as Eddie applied bandages. ‘Are you okay?’

‘This has not been my most fun day,’ he said in a strained voice.

‘Just hang in there. We’ve come this far, we’ve found the Vault of Shiva - we’ll get you home safely. Somehow.’ She looked at Girilal. ‘Is there anything in the stories of Kali that might get us past?’

He shook his head. ‘I am sorry, but I cannot think what.’

Her gaze moved back to the statue - and the two hands that had not moved during the attack. ‘The symbols she’s making: “I will protect you” and “do not fear”. Do not fear, I will protect you . . . from what?’

‘From her,’ suggested Eddie. ‘She’s the big threat.’

‘Kali is not a threat to those who trust her,’ Girilal insisted.

‘So how does she protect you if she’s the one attacking you in the first place?’ asked Nina. ‘Unless . . . if you believe she won’t harm you, you have nothing to fear?’

Eddie indicated Kit’s leg. ‘I don’t think a positive mental attitude’ll stop you from getting shish-kebabed.’

‘I’m not so sure. Girilal, can you look after Kit?’

‘Wait, what’re you thinking?’ Eddie demanded as the yogi took her place.

She picked up the spear. ‘I’ve got a theory - I want to test it.’

‘Couldn’t you just write a thesis, or whatever you PhDs do?’

Ignoring him, Nina went to the passage, stopping just short of its entrance. There was a splash of blood where Kit had been stabbed. Raising the spear, she held its broken end a few inches past the splatter. ‘Okay, let’s see what happens . . .’

She pushed the spear down - and held it there.

Another fearsome crash of ancient machinery, eight arms sweeping down—

And stopping short. There was a loud bang as something inside the statue arrested its movement.

Nina kept the spear held down. The arms retreated.

Shankarpa ran over. ‘What did you do?’

‘I believed that Kali would protect me,’ Nina replied. ‘And she did. Stand back, let me show you.’

She pushed the spear down again. The sword lunged - and this time she jerked the wood away. The blade continued to the limit of its travel, hacking another piece off the wooden shaft.

‘If you’re afraid, that’s what you do when Kali attacks you,’ she explained. ‘You jump back - and get hit anyway. But if you’re not afraid, if you stand your ground . . .’ She lowered the spear once more, keeping it pressed firmly to the stone. Another bang echoed through the passage as the sword stopped abruptly before impact. ‘If you stay in place, there’s something in the machinery that keeps it from hitting you. The symbols in her other two hands are the clue for how to get through. It’s like the key - you have to know the meaning of the stories about Shiva and the goddesses to get inside.’

Eddie waved an arm at the array of lethal weapons. ‘You want to take a stroll through that lot to see if you’re right?’

‘Well, uh . . . not particularly. But if it’s the only way we can get through, then someone’s got to do it.’

‘It’s not bloody going to be you, that’s for sure.’ He stepped up to the passage. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘What?’ Nina cried. ‘Oh, no you won’t! If you’re not going to let me go, I’m sure as hell not going to let you. One of these guys can do it.’ She jabbed a thumb at the guardians.

Shankarpa was not pleased by the suggestion. ‘You want us to risk our lives to test your . . . theory?’

‘You want to find the Shiva-Vedas as much as we do.’

‘Our lives do not depend on it.’

‘They might if the Khoils turn up.’ Between the excitement of opening the Vault and the danger posed by the statue, she had forgotten there was another threat hanging over them. ‘Damn it! They could be on their way already. We have to get inside!’ She faced Shankarpa. ‘Look, I’m sure that if you’re not afraid and just walk down the passage, you won’t get hit and you’ll be able to get to the inner chamber. But we’re running out of time to do it.’

‘Then we’ll have to stop pissing about and get on with it, won’t we?’ Eddie said . . . as he stepped into the narrow tunnel.

‘Eddie, no!’ Nina screamed, but the blades were already descending—

The longest sword jerked to a stop with its tip barely an inch from his groin.

‘Gah!’ he yelped as it withdrew, feeling certain parts of his body doing some withdrawal of their own. ‘I’m bloody glad that stopped when it did.’

‘Are you out of your mind?’ Nina shouted. ‘You could have been killed!’

‘Or worse! Look, someone’s got to go down here - and actually doing it’s better than arguing about it. Okay, next step.’ Suppressing a shudder, he advanced down the passage.

The long sword remained stationary as the other blades shot forward, a scimitar swooshing across at neck height only to stop as if hitting an invisible wall. The weapons retracted. Another step. This time nothing happened. Not all the slabs were connected to the trap. Warily, he moved on.

The vajra dropped like a wrecking ball, stopping so close to his head the displaced air ruffled his hair. Next was another sword, almost cleaving diagonally across his chest. Four arms had made their attack: halfway.

Another step—

The chakram sliced at him - and its circular edge bit through his sleeve into his arm.

Nina gasped, about to run to help him. ‘No!’ he growled through the pain. ‘Stay back! It’s stopped!’ The arm holding the chakram had been stopped by the mechanism restricting its movement - but Eddie had been just far enough out of position for it to catch him.

He leaned away, grunting as the metal pulled clear of his flesh. The chakram clunked back to its original position, a thin line of blood glistening on it. He peeled back the torn fabric of his sleeve to examine the injury. He had been much luckier than Kit; the cut would only need one or two stitches.

But that would have to wait. Forcing back his fear, Eddie slowly walked the rest of the way down the passage. Three more weapons struck at him - and each stopped just before impact. Kali was indeed protecting him.

But there was still one more obstacle. ‘Okay, now what?’ he called as he reached the raised foot. The gap beneath it was a little higher than the duct he had crawled through at the United Nations; he would fit, but it would be a tight squeeze.

‘Any ideas?’ Nina asked the men around her.

‘He must be like Shiva on the battlefield,’ said Girilal. ‘He must pretend to be dead and shame Kali into ending her rampage.’

Considering the legend, it seemed to fit, but she still wasn’t keen on the idea - and nor was Eddie when she relayed it to him. ‘I won’t be pretending to be dead if you’re wrong. Can’t I just wedge it with something?’

‘I’m sure whoever built it thought of that,’ she said. The floor beneath the foot was a mosaic of smaller tiles; she guessed that they were intended to give way if too much pressure was put on them, pressing any props into the ground as the foot descended. ‘But I think Girilal’s right. You have to slide under it and play dead - if you try to get out while it’s coming down, it’ll drop and finish you off. The whole trap is about trusting Kali not to kill you, however scary it looks.’

‘I’m not scared,’ he said, starting to wriggle under the statue. ‘I just don’t want my obituary to say that I died by being squashed by a giant foot like something out of Monty bloody Python. It’d be embarrassing.’

Despite her tension, the joke made Nina smile. ‘Your obituary isn’t going to be written for a long, long time, Eddie. Nobody would dare.’

‘Well, let’s hope you’re right.’ He was now fully beneath the foot—

A tile gave slightly, his weight tripping another trigger. With a nerve-scraping grinding, the foot started to descend.

His instinctual response was to get clear - but he suppressed it, summoning every ounce of self-control to hold still as the foot pressed down on him. He tried to stay calm as the pressure increased, controlling his breathing - but the weight began to force the air from his lungs. ‘Shit!’ he tried to say, but the word was choked short in his throat.

The rasp of stone continued, flesh and bone not slowing the statue’s relentless descent in the slightest. Pain coursed through Eddie’s ribcage as it was squashed against the floor. He struggled to writhe free - but was pinned in place.

Kali was going to crush him!

He turned his head to give Nina a last anguished look, seeing her staring back at him in horror, realising too late that she had been wrong—

The noise stopped.

The pressure suddenly eased, the foot rising slowly back to its original position. Gasping, he drew in several long breaths of cold, dusty air before crawling through the hole. ‘I’m in,’ he croaked.

‘Thank God,’ Nina said. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I feel like toothpaste, but I’ll be all right.’

‘What can you see?’

He glanced round; the new chamber was almost completely dark. ‘Nowt - a torch’d be handy. Roll one down to me.’

Nina drew back her arm as if throwing a bowling bowl and sent her torch skittering down the passage. Eddie caught it and switched it on. The new room was small, the walls engraved with images of Shiva, the paint on the ancient carvings still surprisingly colourful, and line upon line of Vedic Sanskrit. But the object that caught his attention was against one wall.

It was an ornate chest, standing upon gilded legs shaped like an elephant’s and decorated with pearls and small gemstones. Like the walls, it was painted: Shiva, seated in the lotus position, gazed serenely back at him.

‘Can you see anything?’ Nina called.

‘Yeah, there’s a fancy box, and . . .’ He panned the light round. Part of the statue’s mechanism was revealed: several large cogs. ‘I need something to jam up the works. A stone, or a metal bar, something like that.’

A quick search by Shankarpa’s men produced a thick iron rod from one of the siege machines. It was tossed down the passage with a clang. Eddie jammed it between the teeth of the cogs, then experimentally put his weight on the floor beneath the foot. There was another clang as the bar was slammed between the cogs when they tried to turn, but it held firm. After a few moments, the mechanism reset.

He leaned under the foot and waved. ‘Okay. Who wants a look?’

Shankarpa was first, cautiously advancing down the passage. The statue’s arms jerked, but again the metal rod held everything in check. Nina followed.

‘Check it out,’ said Eddie as they crawled through the entrance. He illuminated the chest. ‘You think Shiva’s diary’s inside?’

Shankarpa was too overawed to respond to Eddie’s lack of respect. He went to the chest, hands hovering just above the lid as if afraid to touch it, then looked back at Nina. For the first time, he seemed unsure of himself. ‘What should I do?’

‘Open it,’ Nina told him. ‘If the Shiva-Vedas are inside, we need to know - so we can decide how to protect them.’

He nodded, about to raise the lid - but again couldn’t bring himself to touch the box. ‘I . . . I can’t do it,’ he said. ‘I do not know if I am worthy—’

‘Oh, give it ’ere,’ Eddie snapped, flipping the chest open.

Shankarpa flinched back, and Nina glared at her husband. ‘Eddie!’

‘What? You said we needed to get a move on. Now, what’s inside?’ He held up the torch.

At first glance, the contents seemed almost unworthy of the effort and danger endured to find them. The interior was like a rack, metal dividers separating and supporting a row of stone tablets, each the size of a large hardback book, about half an inch thick. There were perhaps forty in all.

But Nina knew that they represented an incredible archaeological find, the ancient wonders in the cavern outside nothing more than baubles compared to the intellectual treasure in the box. While she didn’t personally believe they had been written by an actual god, the tablets were an account of a civilisation every bit as ancient as that of the Atlanteans - and one of the foundations of a religion that, unlike that of the long-lost race, was still alive and well today.

Delicately, she lifted out a tablet, finding text inscribed on both sides: Vedic Sanskrit, a language with which she had only a passing familiarity. She turned one face towards Shankarpa. ‘Can you read it?’

Awe returned to his face. ‘Yes. Yes! It . . . it is the word of Lord Shiva - about the great cycle of existence!’

Nina carefully returned the tablet to its place. Shankarpa eagerly gestured for her to remove another, but she shook her head. ‘We need to decide what to do with them. Pramesh and Vanita Khoil know where the lost valley is - so they’ll be coming. No matter what happens, we have to keep them from getting hold of the Vedas. Is there anywhere else you could hide them?’

‘There are some caves to the northeast. But I don’t know how safe they would be - they are not deep. If a storm hit . . .’

She put a hand on his arm; Shankarpa reacted to the touch with surprise. ‘Look, I know you still don’t exactly trust me, and I can understand that. But if you let me, I can take the Vedas somewhere completely safe - the Khoils won’t be able to steal them. It’s what I do, it’s the IHA’s mission: to find ancient treasures, and to protect them for the benefit of all humanity. Your father believes in me. Will you?’

Shankarpa looked between her and the chest, frowning . . . then coming to a decision. ‘You think we will not be able to stop these people?’

‘They’ll come in force,’ Eddie told him. ‘And they’ll kill every man here if you get in their way. There’s how many of you, twenty-odd? The Khoils’ll probably bring that many - and they’ll all have machine guns.’

‘Please,’ said Nina. ‘The IHA can protect the Vedas. You and the other guardians might be able to slow down the Khoils . . . but you won’t be able to stop them.’

The Indian made a little noise of self-disgust. ‘All right. I will let you take them to a safe place. But I will come with you.’

‘First, let’s start thinking about how we’re going to get them out of here.’ She closed the lid. ‘Eddie, can you help him move it?’

‘Great,’ he sighed. ‘Halfway up a mountain, cut up by a killer statue and squashed by a giant foot, and I still have to cart boxes around for you.’

Nina sheepishly regarded his torn sleeve. ‘Oh. Right. I forgot. Sorry.’

‘It’s okay. ’Cause it’s you, I’ll do it as a favour. Although I might want you to do something in return when we get back home.’ He grinned lecherously. ‘Maybe involving props.’

‘God, Eddie! Of all the times to be thinking about . . . that.’

‘What are you talking about?’ demanded the impatient Shankarpa.

‘Absolutely nothing,’ Nina told him as she took the torch. ‘Okay. Now, both of you, lift it up. Make sure you support it from underneath.’

They obeyed, Shankarpa taking hold of the chest before giving Nina an outraged look. ‘Wait, you do not give me orders! I am the leader here!’

‘This is what happens once you let a woman into your men-only club,’ Eddie said. ‘Next thing, it’ll be frilly bedclothes and putting the toilet seat down.’

‘Just move the thing,’ Nina snapped as she crawled back out. Eddie and Shankarpa carefully raised the chest and manoeuvred it to the passage. There was just enough room for it to fit beneath the giant stone foot, though the elephant legs scraped the floor as it was eased through.

Once both men were clear, they brought it into the cavern proper. Shankarpa gave an order to two of his men, who reverently carried the chest towards the doors. ‘They will take it down to the ground,’ he told Nina.

She indicated the other items around them. ‘What about everything else?’

‘We will close the Vault. Now that we know how to open the lock, I will decide what to do later. For now, we leave.’

Eddie crouched beside Kit. ‘How’s the leg? Think you can walk on it?’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to get back down the ridge,’ he admitted. ‘But there’s a cell phone mast at Gaurikund - when you get into phone range, you can call Interpol and get them to send a helicopter.’

‘We’ll be able to take the Vedas as well,’ said Nina. ‘If we contact the Indian government, they can arrange security.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ said Eddie. He motioned to Girilal to help him lift Kit.

The Interpol agent gasped in pain, but managed a strained ‘I’m okay,’ as they supported him. Everyone followed the men carrying the chest. ‘I’ll give you my superior’s number. He’ll be able to—’

Eddie stopped suddenly. ‘Wait!’

‘What is it?’ asked Nina.

The echoing thud of rotor blades answered her question. Not one set: several.

The Khoils had found them.