it to gold and reflecting back to brighten the rocks around her. A giddy feeling came over her, a line from King John running incongruously through her mind: To gild refined gold . . .
Fear gripped her. Was the unaccustomed depth affecting her brain? She shook her head, gently so as not to dislodge her mask, and watched Calder knee-walk forward, his fins dragging like Mesozoic appendages.
Her head seemed to clear. Gliding forward, she shoved her dismounted air tank up the rock shelf, hunched forward, and kneeled upright, breaking the surface. Her light silhouetted Calder as he manhandled his dismounted air tank back over his head. Beyond, the beam reflected off a glistening surface, the glare blinding her. She twisted the focus and the light diffused, revealing a diorama that no museum had ever commissioned. She wanted to stay right there and drink it in.
First things first. Scrambling out of the water, she crouched and unfolded the flashlight’s wire frame. Setting the light on the frosty floor, she diffused her headlamp. The ice-coated walls of the cave, reflecting vivid colors beneath a crystal surface, bowed to about ten feet before curving back together. In the surreal glare she could see fur-clad forms humped on the floor. Beyond, some kind of composite animal was wedged in the vee.
“ Remember the radon,” Calder said, his voice muffled by his facemask. “Don’t breathe the air.” She grunted a response and shuffled forward, clamping her mouthpiece and holding the tank in front.
Five feet beyond Calder’s backlighted figure, a fur-clad body lay face-up. Beyond, Blaine could see two other dark humps, their shadows lightening as Calder propped his own flash, illuminating the farthest body, his headlamp reinforcing the beam and highlighting a shock of shaggy yellow hair. Blaine saw that the tawny shape wedged into the crack at the rear had a smaller gray form hanging from it.
Her headlamp illuminated the nearest shape. Beneath a dusting of hoarfrost, dark hair framed an even-featured face with an upright forehead above high cheekbones, a narrow nose tilted at the tip, and a chiseled chin. In the diffuse yellow light, the eyes were shuttered but the olive skin seemed alive. The fur-lined parka and trousers looked tailored, though tattered as from hard use. The hooded parka lay open, revealing a bloodstained chamois tunic and part of the shell necklace the original diver had reported. Below the drawstring the leather was torn away. Gazing at what remained of the swarthy chest, Blaine could see that the victim was a willowy but well-endowed woman. She looked tall for a female, probably close to six feet.
She saw the beam from Calder’s lamp fuse with hers and heard his gasp. Unable to stand because of her prone air tank, she crouched to lift it. Her fins slipped on the uneven ice and she went to one knee. Calder turned, manhandled the air tank over her head, and fastened the harness. They both wiggled out of the cumbersome fins. While Calder bent to examine the woman, Blaine knee-walked to the next fur-clad body, which was smaller.
It lay on its side beside a bone-tipped javelin and a flint knife with an antler handle, a mop of sandy hair overlying a channel in the floor that led to a stone-ringed fire pit. Crouching, Blaine could see that it was a half-grown child. It was lighter-skinned than the woman, with a heavier-boned face that looked pulled-forward in the center. The fur-lined hood was open, and something about the shape of the head looked wrong. Inching around the fire pit, Blaine saw that the left jaw hinge was crushed. In the torn flesh she thought she could make out impressions of large teeth.
Sensing Calder behind her, she straightened and scuttled toward the rear where the cave walls narrowed. Lying on its back, its head turned to the side, was the other fur-clad body. Blond hair, bleached-looking in the beam of her headlamp, curled over extraordinarily broad shoulders. The fair-skinned face,
Fear gripped her. Was the unaccustomed depth affecting her brain? She shook her head, gently so as not to dislodge her mask, and watched Calder knee-walk forward, his fins dragging like Mesozoic appendages.
Her head seemed to clear. Gliding forward, she shoved her dismounted air tank up the rock shelf, hunched forward, and kneeled upright, breaking the surface. Her light silhouetted Calder as he manhandled his dismounted air tank back over his head. Beyond, the beam reflected off a glistening surface, the glare blinding her. She twisted the focus and the light diffused, revealing a diorama that no museum had ever commissioned. She wanted to stay right there and drink it in.
First things first. Scrambling out of the water, she crouched and unfolded the flashlight’s wire frame. Setting the light on the frosty floor, she diffused her headlamp. The ice-coated walls of the cave, reflecting vivid colors beneath a crystal surface, bowed to about ten feet before curving back together. In the surreal glare she could see fur-clad forms humped on the floor. Beyond, some kind of composite animal was wedged in the vee.
“ Remember the radon,” Calder said, his voice muffled by his facemask. “Don’t breathe the air.” She grunted a response and shuffled forward, clamping her mouthpiece and holding the tank in front.
Five feet beyond Calder’s backlighted figure, a fur-clad body lay face-up. Beyond, Blaine could see two other dark humps, their shadows lightening as Calder propped his own flash, illuminating the farthest body, his headlamp reinforcing the beam and highlighting a shock of shaggy yellow hair. Blaine saw that the tawny shape wedged into the crack at the rear had a smaller gray form hanging from it.
Her headlamp illuminated the nearest shape. Beneath a dusting of hoarfrost, dark hair framed an even-featured face with an upright forehead above high cheekbones, a narrow nose tilted at the tip, and a chiseled chin. In the diffuse yellow light, the eyes were shuttered but the olive skin seemed alive. The fur-lined parka and trousers looked tailored, though tattered as from hard use. The hooded parka lay open, revealing a bloodstained chamois tunic and part of the shell necklace the original diver had reported. Below the drawstring the leather was torn away. Gazing at what remained of the swarthy chest, Blaine could see that the victim was a willowy but well-endowed woman. She looked tall for a female, probably close to six feet.
She saw the beam from Calder’s lamp fuse with hers and heard his gasp. Unable to stand because of her prone air tank, she crouched to lift it. Her fins slipped on the uneven ice and she went to one knee. Calder turned, manhandled the air tank over her head, and fastened the harness. They both wiggled out of the cumbersome fins. While Calder bent to examine the woman, Blaine knee-walked to the next fur-clad body, which was smaller.
It lay on its side beside a bone-tipped javelin and a flint knife with an antler handle, a mop of sandy hair overlying a channel in the floor that led to a stone-ringed fire pit. Crouching, Blaine could see that it was a half-grown child. It was lighter-skinned than the woman, with a heavier-boned face that looked pulled-forward in the center. The fur-lined hood was open, and something about the shape of the head looked wrong. Inching around the fire pit, Blaine saw that the left jaw hinge was crushed. In the torn flesh she thought she could make out impressions of large teeth.
Sensing Calder behind her, she straightened and scuttled toward the rear where the cave walls narrowed. Lying on its back, its head turned to the side, was the other fur-clad body. Blond hair, bleached-looking in the beam of her headlamp, curled over extraordinarily broad shoulders. The fair-skinned face,
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