The Complete 8-Book Guardians Adventure Saga Read online

  Ben-Tzion fell to his knees. “Thank you, Lord, for sending your messenger to me to find this cavern. This is truly a miracle!”

  “Don’t be so hasty to claim it.”

  “If this is not to be shared with me, then why did you invite me along?”

  “You will learn why, in time.”

  Ben-Tzion felt uneasy now. Looking around, he asked, “Who keeps the torches lit?”

  “It is not for you to know.” The robed man tossed the flashlight to the floor and Ben-Tzion retrieved it and clicked it off before he put it in his backpack.

  “There must be something I can know.”

  “Not really.” The robed man looked through the treasure, as though looking for something specific. He became angry. “It is not here! Blast their lies!”

  Ben-Tzion was confused. “There is plenty of treasure here,” he said. “Why are you not satisfied?”

  The expedition was getting weird, and Ben-Tzion wanted out. He quickly looked around the edges of the walls for an opening. He could see no exits. Panic rose in him.

  “They would not have assembled these rooms without a way out, would they? We just have to find it,” he muttered.

  “Why do you need to get out?” The robed man looked Ben-Tzion in the eye. “Do you even know whose this treasure is?”

  Ben-Tzion glanced around. “This is part of King Herod’s collection. Some of it was taken from the Jews.”

  “This is all of Herod’s treasure,” he said proudly, which sent a chill through Ben-Tzion.

  The robed man continued, “Masada is known for many things, including Herod’s fortress. Down through the ages, his treasures were moved over here.”

  Ben-Tzion understood. There would be an underground tunnel from one mountain to the other. He also understood where the man’s sympathies lay and it shocked him to his bones.

  “There is a connection between Masada and Mt. Nebo. A deeper connection than you will ever know,” the robed one said mysteriously.

  Ben-Tzion would not let on that he had figured it out. “I understand that excavators would look for the treasure at Masada—but I had not heard of this place.”

  “That is why you are with me. You will help me.”

  “This is most exciting.” Yes, it was, and in a growing, horrific way. Ben-Tzion turned and studied the robed man’s face. He either hadn’t noticed it before, or he had been too preoccupied to see that the robed man’s demeanor had changed drastically since they first met. Before entering the cave, he had been calm and seemed to be in control of his emotions. Since entering, he had become more impatient and anxious. Ben-Tzion knew he was in trouble. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

  Even more than concern for himself, Ben-Tzion was concerned about the objects in the first two alcoves—the papyrus and the wooden walking stick. Could they be connected to ancient spirits? Perhaps that was what was making the robed man nervous. He decided to keep his eyes on the man, just in case he had any malicious intent planned.

  He quickly looked around for a possible exit. He would feel better about looking through this great treasure if he knew there was a way out.

  The robed man was now using his hands to feel around the paintings on the walls.

  He’s looking for something specific.

  Without being too obvious or looking too closely, Ben-Tzion also studied the paintings. The painting of Moses parting the Red Sea caught his eye. Something stood out, but he could not put his finger on what it was.

  Then he saw it. Moses was holding up his staff and the staff looked like it was glowing. He wondered what could cause that optical illusion. Surely, that had to be important, but he did not want to let the robed man know—not yet.

  As he squinted his eyes to see it from a different angle, it looked as if whoever had painted it had gone to a lot of trouble to highlight the lines of Moses’ staff. He saw a space for something to be added to the painting—the shepherd’s staff from the first alcove.

  He looked back at the robed man. He was now studying the painting of the plagues, so Ben-Tzion decided to look at the painting of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments. At first glance, he could see nothing out of place and nothing highlighted.

  He stepped over to examine it more closely. Something drew his attention to the stone tablets. They looked unusual. The bottom of each tablet had curled. Stone isn’t supposed to curl up like that, he thought to himself. Curl up? Just like…paper…papyrus! Hmm.

  His revelation made him decide to keep an even closer eye on the robed man. He did not want to share his find just yet. While the robed man was busy looking around the room, Ben-Tzion lifted the papyrus and wrapped it in plastic, and then, it went into his backpack. He pasted an innocent look on his face.

  The robed man angrily looked around the room for something else. He let out a howl like a wounded animal. He picked up, threw a priceless vase against the wall, and began to pound his fists onto the stone wall. In a rage, the man took off his robe and threw it at the pedestal. Ben-Tzion could now see the muscular arms that could throw him around like a rag doll. He shrank against the wall when he saw there was something more horrifying than he had expected.

  On the man’s left arm was the tattoo of a huge club. On his right arm, a tattoo of a spear extended upward in the shape of a tree. Ben-Tzion’s jaw dropped because now he knew. He had seen this symbol before. “You are a Canaanite?” The accusation coming out of Ben-Tzion’s mouth left a bad taste on his tongue.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “That makes me concerned about your intentions.”

  “As it should,” said the Canaanite. “Now you know who I am, but that knowledge will do you no good.”

  “You know that I am Jewish!”

  “Of course I know. I always knew. No matter. You helped me get in here by using your burning rags and your finger upon a stone that opened this vault. That was all I needed from you. A way in. Now, I am finished with you!”

  He approached menacingly.

  Ben-Tzion turned to run, but the Canaanite grabbed him and effortlessly pushed him back into the treasure room. He pulled something from a pocket in his robe and pressed a stone into Ben-Tzion’s chest, a stone with an eye painted upon it.

  “No!” Ben-Tzion shouted, helpless, looking down and trying to tear the thing from his flesh, but it was like it had claws digging into his flesh, even penetrating through his clothing. It felt like his chest was on fire.

  “You crave treasure so badly. Now you will be trapped for eternity with it! Enjoy your archaeological discovery for no one shall ever know you found it and no human alone can find you! I curse you! I curse you with all of the venom of my Canaanite brethren, then and now! Four thousand years of hate shall be upon your head for what your kind have wrought on my kind when you drove us from Israel!”

  “No!” Ben-Tzion shrieked, from the horror of his worst fear coming true: A curse. “No!”

  The Canaanite picked up an arrowhead from the stone pedestal and pushed it into the hand of Pharaoh in the painting of the ten plagues. A secret passage opened. The Canaanite stepped through it, and the door closed behind him.

  Ben-Tzion was alone.

  His heart thrummed, but he knew could not allow himself to panic further because now the Canaanite was gone. He looked at the stone shoved through his clothing and into his skin. There was no removing it or denying it. He had an evil eye stone embedded in his flesh. It burned and every breath hurt worse than the one preceding it.

  Even so, he wanted to see everything in this room. He would not expend one more second of his precious life screaming when such an archaeological treasure surrounded him.

  “I got what I wished,” he said aloud. “My own archaeological find that I do not have to share with anyone.” Again, the irony seemed especially brutal.

  He walked slowly around the room. Back to the painting of the Ten Commandments, he saw some scriptures. The first letter of each verse was highlighted. Once the letters lined up, he realized th
at it spelled out ACHSAH. “Achsah was a female in the Bible,” he said aloud. “She is only mentioned five times. The five scrolls that I now possess contain five scriptures where she is mentioned. There must be a clue in there.”

  Amazing! This was strange.

  Ben-Tzion had always thought of Achsah as an unimportant woman of the Bible. Now, he believed that there was something more about her to learn. He knew she had lived during the time of Joshua, soon after Moses had died. He remembered that Joshua won the battle of Jericho against the Canaanites. Now he knew there was a connection between Achsah and the robed Canaanite. But how?

  “I will work it out another time,” he said aloud, and his words echoed back to him. Ben-Tzion was tired, so he sat down to rest.

  Suddenly, there was a glow circling before him. Someone was in the center. A silver light surrounded a dark-haired woman, one who looked like a relative of the woman he had seen back at Masada. She was now in the cave with him, inside the silver radiance. Or was he dreaming?

  “Greetings, Eldad Ben-Tzion.”

  “You know my name.”

  “Yes.”

  He blinked his eyes. “Who are you?” he stammered. “My name is Achsah! You called my name aloud, so I came.”

  “Achsah! How did you get in here?”

  “I am immortal. I go where I choose.”

  “Why can I see you?”

  “You are fading as the oxygen decreases in here. You, too, shall soon be immortal.”

  “That’s it, then. The end of me.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “The beginning of immortality. Follow me.”

  She picked up one of the arrowheads at the foot of the stone pedestal and pushed it into the hand of Pharaoh in the painting of the ten plagues. A secret passage opened for her, just as it had for the Canaanite. She passed through the passageway and exited on the other side. She turned, waiting for him to follow.

  “Come,” she said, motioning to Ben-Tzion.

  “What about the treasure?” he asked.

  “It is safe.” Achsah placed her hand on his. He followed her into a peaceful room. “You may rest here,” she said, her eyes sympathetic as she noticed the evil eye embedded in his chest.

  “I am so tired. He hit me with a curse. This evil eye. Can you get this thing out of me and break the curse? It hurts.”

  “I see it, but I am not allowed to touch it, for it is unclean. You will sleep, Eldad.”

  “Is that a metaphor?” he asked, knowing she could not lie to him.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He lay down and closed his eyes. The cold, hard stone felt like a soft bed under him. When he struggled for breath, Achsah radiated warmth upon him with her hands held high over his body.

  His last thoughts were about Achsah from the Bible…

  Chapter the Third

  WINTER—PRESENT DAY.

  Heavy snow was falling just outside the small town of Grafton, North Dakota, where the Zion School of Biblical Studies prepared for the winter break. The last class of the semester was being taught by Professor Albert Salinger, the foremost authority on the Bible and present-day Israel. Living in the Middle East for a time, he had spent more than two-thirds of his life immersed in Bible prophecy, archaeology and biblical languages, which were his fields of study and degrees.

  Over the years, Dr. Salinger had come up with his own theories and hypotheses, which attracted some smarter students who enjoyed the challenging atmosphere of his classes.

  With a focus on his controversial theories about certain biblical events, ten years earlier, Dr. Salinger had founded the Zion School near his peaceful hometown. Despite the small-town life and the North Dakota winters, students enrolled from all over the country. He challenged and nurtured the best and the brightest, many of whom would go on to make their marks in the field.

  Dr. Salinger was also well-traveled and few knew more about biblical history than he did. Well, maybe Eldad Ben-Tzion knew more, if he was even still alive.

  As Salinger stood before his last class before the winter break, he smiled because he had filled every seat, yet again. The faces of those students who were eager to hear his wisdom filled his heart with warmth. With his hands gripping the podium, he said, “I always marvel at the number of young minds that look to the Bible for answers. I have done this for so long that it is commonplace for me to think of my Lord and Savior for guidance on everything. Some people don’t think that the knowledge of some of the events in the Bible can teach us anything. Some people think that the New Testament overrides everything in the Old Testament. How many of you think that?”

  About half in attendance raised their hands.

  “Keep an open mind. I, too, was once young and impressionable by gossip and hearsay. The truth will not only set us free, but it can help us dig deeper into the mysteries that we find in the Bible. You know that I have always encouraged participation in my classes,” he said.

  The students nodded.

  He continued, “No question is stupid. If your mind has the need for an answer, then your question is justified.” Without a shred of modesty, he added, “And I can assure you that if anyone can answer your biblical questions, it would be me.”

  “Where are the scrolls from Mt. Nebo?” called a female voice with a slight accent.

  Mt. Nebo? What a strange question. Dr. Salinger smiled as he tried to pinpoint where in the crowd the voice had come from.

  When he spotted her, he said, “Your voice tells me that you are trying to disguise the Hebrew dialect that you have had all of your life. From the inflection, I would say that you were born in Bethlehem, Israel. Am I correct?”

  The class became silent as they waited for an answer. He walked up to the young woman and studied her face. She was pretty with a strong nose, long black hair and dark eyes. She had an athletic build and was dressed for travel.

  He smiled and repeated, “Am I right?”

  She glared at him. “Yes, Doctor. I was born in Bethlehem.”

  The class applauded as Dr. Salinger took a bow.

  “Impressive,” the young lady said. “Now, perhaps you would like to impress me by actually answering my question.”

  The applause faded.

  Dr. Salinger looked into her eyes with a questioning look. He tightened his lips.

  She continued, “I see all of the accolades that you pay to yourself that are posted on the very walls of this institution. Your lack of humility staggers the senses. I thought this was a Christian school, but Christ did not sing about Himself the way that you do. Now, please answer my question.”

  The class was now dead quiet as they waited for Dr. Salinger’s response. He glared at the girl as he strove to remember anything he’d ever heard about any scrolls being found at Mt. Nebo.

  “You must be talking about Khirbet Qumran, young lady.”

  She snapped, “Did my question mention anything about the Copper Scroll?”

  “Hmm. No.” Yet, he had heard about archaeologists looking for the Staff of Moses on Mt. Nebo.

  She continued to heckle him, and he turned pale. Trembling, he clutched his chest, moaning, as he dropped to his knees.

  Several students mumbled that he was having a heart attack. Other students quickly moved close to help him, while someone called 9-1-1.

  Amid the commotion, the dark-haired girl who had questioned him walked over and knelt beside him. “Just as I suspected, it appears that your knowledge is not omniscient.”

  He groaned.

  “Leave him alone,” a male voice called out.

  She placed a business card in his hand and closed his fingers around it. Whispering, she said, “Call me when you decide to stop playing games. I have a feeling you know more than you’re letting on.” She grinned out of the corner of her mouth as she stood up.

  Sam Godfrey, the young grad student who had confronted her, took a cup of water to Dr. Salinger. The girl grabbed the cup and drank the water.

  Sam clasped her arm and said, �
��You owe Dr. Salinger an apology. That is, if he lives through this attack.”

  “He’s not dying.” She made a face and thanked him for the water. She walked toward the exit. Another glass of water was handed to Dr. Salinger.

  “Dr. Salinger, I’m so sorry,” said Sam. “Who was that?”

  “I don’t know.” He sat up and stared at the girl’s back through the crowd of students until she was out of sight.

  Dr. Salinger looked at the card in his hand. It only had a local phone number on it. As the paramedics arrived, he wondered, Who is she?

  Chapter the Fourth

  ACHAVA TOOK a quick trip to Masada. Having supernatural powers came in handy for her, and she got there before noon.

  Things had changed now from when she was a small girl growing up in Israel. Instead of the ski lift that her mother, Aviela, had taken her on, there was now an aerial lift—a cableway with a glassed-in gondola that carried a dozen tourists at a time to the top of the mountain. Those people did not appear to care about the treasures hidden in the mountains surrounding the tourist attraction. They were just sightseeing.

  She was more concerned about the bones of her ancestors, especially Achsah’s. Her death had always been a mystery.

  Something had not been settled ever since Achsah had wandered in the hills of Israel during the time of Joshua, the leader who was God’s chosen one to take down the cities of the Canaanites. Achsah had done her share of destruction on the wicked race, as well. It was as if she had just disappeared.

  Achava wanted to know more. After purchasing a couple of bottles of water, some fruit and string cheese, she hiked over to Mt. Nebo. Going down a narrow path, she saw the flat rock that she was looking for. She would bring Dr. Salinger here to this spot to look for hidden mysteries from the distant past. A shiver ran up her spine just thinking about it.

  Except for Masada, the other mountains were empty of anything living, except for the colorless lizards and snakes. She looked out across the barren wilderness and wondered where her mother was. Achava prayed she would find her. She had not seen her for years. That was because their assignments kept them both busy and away from each other. Even though she respected Aviela for continuing to work at her age, Achava felt sad when she thought about how much she missed her.