— MY GOD, GREG...! Have you seen this?
The detective was speechless. He was so impressed by what he saw before his eyes that he found it hard to think clearly. Geovanna's question went unanswered, and they both remained entranced, mouths open, admiring the drawings and phrases inscribed on the stone walls.
The room they were in must have been about ten meters long by six meters wide, and over three meters high. In the center was a stepped platform — about the height of an average man — that ended in a completely smooth rectangular base. It was made of a granite more polished than the stone used in cathedrals.
The steps, which narrowed as they ascended on all four sides — perhaps oriented to the cardinal directions— were inscribed with astronomical glyphs and markings. There was nothing above the base, though it appeared to be intended to support some kind of propitiatory altar.
On the walls, they discovered loose phrases written in various languages, such as Latin, Old Spanish, and Hebrew, along with geometric figures and Kabbalistic inscriptions somewhat reminiscent of alchemy. They recognized the type of writing as textual Gothic, the same used in the cryptogram's creation, which meant its author could be Iacobus of Carthage himself.
Gregory Evans took the opportunity to turn on the DVD recorder and watch these marvels, asking Geovanna to shine the flashlight on the walls of the room. It was then that they discovered, on either side, corridors leading to other rooms, identical copies of the first, albeit with different designs and new phrases, which also ended with unknowns.
They chose to follow the path to the right, which led them to a room, which in turn led to another, and that to yet another — all of the same size. They swayed back and forth, drawn by the desire to recognize that architectural marvel that stretched beneath the Murcia Cathedral, that labyrinth of galleries that, like a child's game, connected all the spaces, so that whoever entered them inevitably returned to the main room.
There were seven of them, and above the threshold of the entrance, they discovered, hanging from the ceiling, many bells of different sizes, depending on the room they were in.
At first glance, it was difficult to make out the words because of the shadows cast by the lantern, but they were able to correctly read several phrases in Latin and Spanish, inscribed on the walls. It was a new message from Iacobus:
"In triangulis oculus Dei est"
— The eye of God is inside the triangle — Geovanna translated, approaching one of the walls, in the center of which was painted a Star of David.
Evans lowered the camera, pausing recording for a moment. Fascinated, he frowned.
— Is it possible that you are referring to the intersecting triangles that make up the symbol of Israel? — he asked.
His companion shrugged, unconcerned with the riddle, heading to the other side of the wall in search of new phrases.
There they discovered several paragraphs written in Hebrew — perhaps quotations from the Talmud — and a series of circular drawings, enclosing several triangles and undefined straight lines, as well as numbers and letters placed at random. Because they didn't know the language, they couldn't translate the riddles, but Gregory made a point of recording everything written on video. They would have time to study the images in depth later, once they were safe in Monroe's house.
They hadn't even been there for ten minutes, and they already felt like they belonged. Geovanna was so fascinated that she kept going from one room to the next, eager to translate everything in Latin. He, whose coolness was a congenital Evans virtue, tried to approach the discovery rationally, without letting himself be carried away by emotions.
The first thing they should do was start searching for the diary, before they were discovered. He'd heard that time flies underground. One might feel like they'd been down there for twenty minutes, only to discover that, in fact, more than an hour had passed. So he tried to get Geovanna's attention so she could focus on what they'd really been doing.
— You should communicate with your uncle — he reminded her cautiously, — otherwise he might think something has happened to us… You know how apprehensive he is.
The young woman put aside the translation she was working on and looked at him in surprise. She had completely forgotten.
— Wait, I'll try to see if this works... — he said, taking the transmitter out of his pants pocket. — I'm not sure if it's in here, locked up...
He didn't even finish his sentence, frowning as he heard the characteristic noise of interference. Communication wouldn't be easy.
— This is Alpha. Omega, can you hear me? — He waited a few seconds before trying again. — Alpha down here... uncle? Can you hear me? Over.
There was no answer, only the persistent hum of hertz waves. After a few moments, they heard what sounded like incomplete words.
— ... I hear... difficulty... where is it?... are you okay?...over...
— I'll have to crawl again if I want to reach the pit — Geovanna said confidently. — It's the only way to tell my uncle we're okay and that we need more time to find the diary.
— If you ask me, I think it's best to look for the diary now and let Umbert draw his own conclusions... — Greg wasn't willing to take unnecessary risks, so he insisted. — If I were up there, I'd have a little more patience...
His mouth felt dry. We've heard his voice before, even if it's broken. And so I deduce that he heard us too and knows we're okay.
Geovanna thought about her partner's proposal for a few seconds and didn't seem convinced. Then she suggested:
— Look, let's do something... You stay here, recording what you think is important. — She bit her lower lip. — I'm sorry, but I'm going to contact my uncle. I need to reassure him and warn him that we're going to be a little late.
Squeezing Greg's hand firmly, he held it, so that together they made their way back to the main room, where the exit passage was located.
Once there, far from everything and everyone, she tried unsuccessfully to plant a kiss on his lips, before inserting first her outstretched arms in front of her, then her head, into the square space that fit her shoulders like a tailored suit. Her only consolation was that, as she walked, the path widened. Even so, the sensation of being buried in a stone coffin resulted in a very real and distressing experience for the first few meters.
Gregory Evans felt like the loneliest man in the world when he saw her disappear. He felt a strange knot in his stomach.
He decided to continue investigating before loneliness and claustrophobia became a problem. He approached the central landing of the room, illuminating the dark corners of the steps. He counted seven on each side, as well as the number of connecting rooms. To him, it was a rather revealing number.
His curiosity, combined with a bit of imagination, led him to investigate whether there was some kind of hidden spring between the stones, capable of opening a small door to the secret hiding place. He felt the surface without finding anything, but it seemed strange that it was so highly polished.
The touch reminded him of the granite on the stairs of the building where he lived. He carefully observed the seven glyphs engraved on the various steps. They were the symbols of the planets used in alchemy, so he thought it would be a good idea to draw them on his notebook for later, detailed study after recording those same elements on DVD.
After a prolonged effort to find a hiding place, the hollow step where the diary might be hidden had to be abandoned and admit failure. The stones were compact and perfect, as if the pedestal had been made from a single piece of granite. He then went to the front wall to analyze the written phrases and try to translate them. But before focusing on the stone wall, he decided to swap the DVD in his camera — as it was running low — for another, blank one. This way, he could continue recording, enlarging the report as much as possible. Later, he tucked it into one of the large pockets of his military-style pants. He turned on the flashlight, approaching the Latin texts. One of them read:
"Musica divinitatiorum."
And, in another:
"Sonitus silentes silentio noctis est."
— The music of the deities? Silent sounds in the stillness of the night? — he wondered aloud.
What the hell does this mean?
He then remembered the bells of various sizes that hung over the main entrances to the rooms. Perhaps by ringing them, he could open a passage in the wall that would lead him to the diary, he calculated in a moment of excitement. He was so desperate that it was the only thing he could think of.
He started with the largest, located in the room where he was at that moment. He picked up the clapper rope with extreme caution, debating whether to act independently or wait for Geovanna. Deciding to take the risk, he gave a sharp tug until the metal piece struck the bell. The vibrant sound echoed throughout the seven rooms, then faded in intensity.
The tone had been too serious, abrupt like a jolt.
But nothing happened. No stone shifted to make way for a secret chamber. Led by intuition, he went directly to the corridor on the right, which connected to the next room. Once there, he repeated the experiment. The bell, much smaller than the first, rang differently, on a lower scale.
He tried again in the third room, and the fourth. And so on, until he reached the last, where the bell was so small that the sound it produced reminded him of the most expensive Bohemian crystal. This could only mean one thing: that each of those rooms was represented by the seven musical notes.
He was so interested in his discovery that he failed to notice the menacing shadow slinking stealthily and surrounding him from behind. By the time his sixth sense kicked in, it was already too late. Out of the corner of his eye, he discovered he wasn't alone down there.
The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was a blow to the back of his head and the feeling that everything was spinning around him.
Then, silence.