Игорь Патанин – The Whisper of Submerged Sanctuaries (страница 10)

Alexei felt the medallion on his neck seem to respond to these words—becoming warmer, heavier. He took it out from under his shirt and placed it on the table in front of Rustam.

The old man did not touch the medallion but looked at it with reverence mixed with anxiety.

"So it is indeed the one," Rustam said quietly. "The very one your grandfather found in 1954 and then hid from everyone."

"You knew about my grandfather's find?" Alexei asked in surprise.

"Of course," Rustam nodded. "I was there when Igor found it in the cave. I was twelve years old, helping the expedition as a guide. I saw how the medallion first glowed in his hands."

"Glowed?" Alexei repeated. "You mean… literally?"

"Exactly," Rustam confirmed. "The silver began to emit a bluish glow when Igor took it in his hands. The expedition leader, Voronov, attributed it to some optical effect, a reflection of light from minerals in the cave. But Igor and I knew it was something more."

The old man sipped his tea and continued:

"After that, your grandfather began asking me questions about local legends, about the Nestorians, about sunken treasures. I told him what I knew from the stories of my father and grandfather. And then Igor decided to conceal the find from the expedition leadership."

"Why?" asked Dinara. "Usually archaeologists strive to register every find."

"Because Igor understood that the medallion was not just an ancient artifact," Rustam answered. "It's a key to something much more important. To a secret that had been kept for centuries. And this secret should not have fallen into the hands of the Soviet authorities, especially at that time—the height of the Cold War, spy mania, KGB everywhere…"

Rustam rose and went to a shelf where books and old photographs were kept. He retrieved a worn leather book tied with a cord.

"This is a family heirloom," he said, returning to the table. "The diary of my distant ancestor, Murat Kambarov. He was a shaman and healer. People from all over the valley came to him for advice and help. He began helping people after a man once came to him who changed our family's history."

Rustam untied the cord and carefully opened the book. The pages were yellowed, with handwritten text in old Kyrgyz, faded in places.

"It says here," Rustam began, slowly translating, "that in 1273, an old man named David came to my ancestor. He was very old, with a beard as white as snow, but his eyes were clear and lively. He spoke in a strange mixture of languages and wore a silver cross on his chest. The old man said he had come from afar to pass on important knowledge to one worthy of keeping it."

Rustam turned the page.

"David said he was the last keeper of an ancient secret. His teacher, a European monk named Thomas, had entrusted him with preserving knowledge about a Nestorian treasure hidden during the Mongol invasion. Among the treasures was a special item that David called the 'Key of Solomon'—a crystal with extraordinary properties."

"A crystal?" Alexei asked. "Not the medallion?"

"The medallion is a pointer, a guide to the crystal," Rustam explained. "The real 'Key of Solomon' is a crystal hidden in a cache." He continued translating: "David was too old to keep the secret himself. He gave my ancestor a map indicating the place where the treasures were hidden and said that someday a person would come who could find and use the 'Key of Solomon' for good. Until then, the secret must remain hidden."

"And where is this map now?" asked Alexei.

"Lost," Rustam replied regretfully. "During the civil war, our house was burned down, and many family heirlooms disappeared. Only this diary remained, which my grandfather managed to hide." He closed the book. "But even without the map, I know where to look. Our ancestor passed this knowledge to his son, who passed it to his son, and so on from generation to generation. Thus the secret came down to my father, and my father passed it to me."

"And you never tried to find the treasures yourself?" asked Dinara.

"I tried, when I was young and hot-headed," Rustam smiled. "But my ancestor left a warning: without the medallion, finding the cache is impossible. And the medallion was lost in David's time." The old man looked at Alexei. "At least, that's what we thought until your grandfather found it in 1954."

"But why didn't my grandfather use the medallion to find the treasures?" Alexei wondered. "Why did he simply hide it and tell no one?"

"Because it was a dangerous time," Rustam answered. "The USSR, the Cold War, the KGB watching every step. Igor understood that if the authorities learned about the 'Key of Solomon,' they would do everything to get it. And if the legend is to be believed, this crystal possesses extraordinary power. In the hands of those who crave power, it could become a dangerous weapon."

"What kind of power exactly?" asked Alexei.

Rustam smiled mysteriously.

"They say the crystal can heal diseases, prolong life, and even open the 'eyes of the soul,' allowing one to see the true nature of people and things. But there is also a warning: it amplifies both the light and dark sides of human nature. In the hands of a good person, it works miracles. In the hands of an evil one—it brings calamity."

"Sounds like a myth," Alexei remarked.

"Perhaps," Rustam agreed. "But your grandfather, a scientist and skeptic, believed in this legend enough to keep the medallion secret all his life. That makes one think, doesn't it?"

Dinara looked at the medallion lying on the table.

"What about these symbols?" she asked, pointing to the strange marks on the reverse side of the medallion. "What do they mean?"

"It's a combination of Nestorian script and special symbols known only to initiates," Rustam replied. "A kind of cipher. But I cannot read it completely. My father couldn't either. That part of the knowledge was lost."

"And the inscription inside?" asked Alexei. "'Lux in aqua, aqua in luce. Clavis Salomonis aperiet viam.' Light in water, water in light. Solomon's key will open the way."

"That's a clue," said Rustam. "Light in water, water in light' is a description of a special phenomenon that can be observed only at a certain time of year and in a specific place on Issyk-Kul. When the sun rises and its first rays penetrate the water at a particular angle, creating the illusion that the lake is glowing from within. And at that moment, an entrance to a cave, hidden at other times, becomes visible."

"Is such a thing possible?" Alexei asked doubtfully. "A cave entrance that's visible only under special lighting?"

"There are many unusual things at Issyk-Kul," Rustam replied. "But in this case, we're talking about a natural phenomenon. The entrance is located in a cliff and under normal lighting blends with the surrounding rocks. But when light falls at a certain angle, it creates a contrast that makes the entrance visible."

"And when does this happen?" Alexei inquired.

"Once a year, on the summer solstice," said Rustam. "Which, by the way, will occur in a few days."

Alexei and Dinara exchanged glances. What a coincidence. Or was it fate?

"So if we want to find the 'Key of Solomon,' we only have a few days?" Dinara clarified.

"Exactly," Rustam nodded. "But there's a more serious problem than the timing." His expression darkened. "Karabaev. That man is obsessed with finding Nestorian treasures. For years, he's been gathering information, financing expeditions, bribing officials. And now that he's learned about the medallion, he'll stop at nothing to get it."

"But how did he find out?" asked Dinara. "We were careful."

"In our time, it's difficult to keep secrets," Rustam sighed. "Especially from a man with such resources and connections. Perhaps someone at the museum told him about your conversation. Or they found mention of the medallion in Igor's papers in the university archive."

Ermek, who had been listening silently to the conversation, spoke up:

"Whatever happened, we must get ahead of Karabaev. Find the 'Key of Solomon' before he does."

"I agree," Rustam nodded. "But we need to be extremely cautious. Right now, his men are probably combing the area looking for us."

"Do you have a specific plan?" asked Alexei.

"Yes," Rustam replied. "Tomorrow at dawn, we'll go to where your grandfather found the medallion. It's a cave complex in the mountains not far from Kurmenty. There we'll find clues that will help us determine the exact location of the entrance mentioned in the legend."

"But won't Karabaev's men be watching these caves?" Dinara questioned.

"Surely," Rustam agreed. "But there are old paths known only to locals. We'll take those. Plus, we have an advantage—the medallion. Without it, Karabaev will never find the entrance, no matter how many men he sends."

Alexei picked up the medallion from the table and looked at it pensively. In the light of the kerosene lamp (Rustam principally did not use electric lighting in the evenings, preferring "living fire"), the silver gleamed dully, and the strange symbols seemed to come alive, moving in the play of shadows.

"Do you really believe that this crystal, the 'Key of Solomon,' possesses such power?" he asked Rustam.