Karna said, “Fear not. All will be well.”

“Forgive us,” Remi said, “but the curiosity is killing us: your accent is-”

“Oxford through and through, yes. I am in fact British, though I haven’t been home for . . . fifteen years, I suppose. I have lived in Mustang for thirty-eight years this summer. Most of that time, in this very house.”

“How did you come to be here?” Sam asked.

“I came as a student, actually. Anthropology, mainly, with a few side interests. I spent three months here in 1973, then went home. I wasn’t there for two weeks before I realized Mustang had gotten under my skin, as they say, so I returned and never left. The local priests believe I am one of them-reincarnated, of course.” Mr. Karna smiled, shrugged. “Who can say? Without doubt, though, I have never felt more at home anywhere else.”

“Fascinating,” Sam replied. “What do you do?”

“I suppose I am an archivist of sorts. And an historian. My main focus is documenting Mustang’s history. Not the history you read on Wikipedia, though.” He saw Remi’s confused expression and said with a smile, “Yes, I know about Wikipedia. I have satellite Internet here. Quite extraordinary, given the remoteness of the place.”

“Quite,” Remi agreed.

“I am-and have been for nearly twelve years-writing a book that will, with any luck, serve as a comprehensive history of Mustang and Lo Monthang. A hidden history, if you will.”

“Which explains why Sushant thought you were the person we should see,” said Sam.

“Indeed. He told me you were particularly interested in the legend of the Theurang. The Golden Man.”

“Yes,” replied Remi.

“He did not, however, tell me why.” Karna was now serious, his eyes peering hard at Sam and Remi. Before they could answer, he went on: “Please understand. I mean no offense, but your reputation has preceded you. You are professional treasure hunters, are you not?”

“It’s not the term we prefer,” Sam replied, “but it’s technically accurate.”

Remi added, “We keep none of what we find for ourselves. Any financial compensation goes to our foundation.”

“Yes, I read that. Your reputation is in fact quite good. The trouble is, you see, I have had visitors before. People after the Theurang for what I fear were nefarious reasons.”

“Did these people happen to be a young man and woman?” Sam asked. “Caucasian twins with Asian features.”

Karna’s left eyebrow arched. “Spot-on. They were here a few months ago.”

Sam and Remi shared a glance. Silently, they agreed they could and should trust Karna. They were in as remote a location as they’d ever been, and the attempt on their lives the day before told them Charles King had taken the gloves off. Not only did they need Karna’s knowledge but they needed a trustworthy ally.

“Their names are Russell and Marjorie King. Their father is Charles King-”

“King Charlie,” Karna interrupted. “I read an article about him in the Wall Street Journal last year. Bit of a cowboy, I gather. A bumpkin, yes?”

“A very powerful bumpkin,” Remi replied.

“Why on earth does he want you dead?”

“Why, precisely, we’re not sure,” Sam replied, “but we’re convinced he’s after the Theurang.”

Sam went on to recount their affiliation with Charles King. He left nothing out. He told Karna what they knew, what they suspected, and what remained a mystery.

“Well, one mystery I can address immediately,” Karna said.

“These evil twins, the King children, clearly gave me a bogus name. But during their visit, they did mention the name Lewis ‘Bully’ King. When I told them what I’m about to tell you, they reacted with no apparent shock. Strange, given who they are.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That Lewis King is dead. He died in 1982.”

LO MONTHANG,

MUSTANG, NEPAL

Shocked, Sam and Remi didn’t speak for several moments. Finally Remi said, “How did he die?”

“Fell into a crevasse about ten miles from here. In fact, I helped recover his body. He is buried in the local cemetery.”

“And you told the King twins this?” Sam asked.

“Indeed. Their reaction was one of . . . disappointment, I suppose. Now, knowing who they are, it seems particularly coldhearted, doesn’t it?”

“In keeping with the family character,” Remi replied. “Did they tell you why they were looking for him?”

“They were very evasive, which is why I found an excuse to cut our visit short. All I could gather was, they were looking for King and had an interest in the Theurang. I didn’t much care for the cut of their jib. It’s nice to know my instincts were right. So, it seems clear that Charles King knew his father was dead when he contacted you.”

“And knew it when he hired Alton,” Sam said. “The report about the photo showing Lewis here was another fabrication.”

“All designed to get you involved in the hunt for the Golden Man,” Karna added. “Not much of a deep thinker, this King, is he? He expected you would come here to find your friend, then pick up the hunt for the Theurang without getting suspicious, then lead the twins straight to it.”

“So it seems,” Remi said. “The best-laid plans . . .”

“Of country cretins and loathsome offspring,” Karna finished. “The larger question is, why is the Theurang so important to King? You don’t suppose he’s some kind of closet Nazi, do you, picking up the banner of his father’s expedition?”

“We don’t think so,” said Sam. “We’ve started to wonder if it’s simply an obsession or a side business like his black market fossil endeavors. Either way, the Kings have kidnapped and murdered for the Theurang.”

“Not to mention enslaved,” Remi added. “The people at the dig site can’t come and go as they please.”

“That too. Regardless of his motives, we can’t let the Golden Man fall into his hands.”

Karna picked up his teacup and raised it in salute. “It’s decided, then: we are at war with the King family. All for one?”

Sam and Remi raised their cups and said in unison, “And one for all.”

“Tell me more about the burial chamber you found,” Karna said. “Leave nothing out.”

Remi briefly described the alcove they’d found in the Chobar Gorge cave, then retrieved her iPad from the backpack and brought up the gallery of photos she’d taken during their exploration. She handed it to Karna.

Fascinated by the iPad, he spent a minute turning it over in his hands and playing with the interface before looking up, wide-eyed, at Sam and Remi.

“I really must get one of these. All right . . . to business.” He spent the next ten minutes studying Remi’s photos, panning and zooming the iPad’s interface, clicking his tongue and muttering words like “wondrous” and “astonishing.” At last, he handed the iPad back to Remi.

“You have both made history,” Karna said. “While I don’t imagine the larger world will realize the significance of the find, the people of Mustang and Nepal certainly will. What you have there, in fact, is the final resting place of a Sentinel. The four characters engraved into the top of the box . . . Do you have a better photos of them?”

“No, sorry.”

“Where is the box right now?”

Sam replied, “In San Diego, with Selma, our chief researcher.”

“Oh, goodness. Is she-”

“Fully qualified,” Remi said. “She’s trying to open it-carefully, without damaging it.”

“Very good. I may be able to help her with that.”

“Do you know what’s inside?”

“I may. I’ll come to that shortly. How much did Sushant tell you about the Sentinels and the Theurang?”

“A good overview,” Remi said, “but he made it clear you’re the expert.”

“That’s very true. Well, Sentinels were guardians of the Theurang. The honor was handed down from father to son. They were trained from the age of six for one purpose and one purpose alone. The Himanshu Decree of 1421 was one of four times the Theurang has been evacuated from Lo Monthang. The previous three instances, all of which preceded an invasion, ended favorably, and the Theurang was subsequently returned to the capital. The invasion of 1421 was different, however. The ‘Marshal of the Army’ at the time, Dolma, convinced the King and his advisers that this invasion would be different. He was certain it would spell the beginning of the end of Mustang. Not to mention the prophecy.”