By morning, Jonathan had decided that a substantial breakfast was the best way to establish that his body had forgiven him.
Daniel found him halfway through it.
“You look better.”
“I’ve been concentrating on familiar activities.”
Daniel sat opposite him.
“Eating?”
“Eating. Sitting. Experiencing one second at a time.”
Mara arrived carrying her jacket and a folded sheet of paper. She placed it between them before taking the chair beside Daniel.
Jonathan moved his coffee away from it.
“Lindiwe’s drawing?”
“She wanted another look at it.”
Daniel unfolded the sheet. The marks remained as they had been the night before. In daylight, on an ordinary breakfast table, they looked less convincing.
He remembered the certainty in Lindiwe’s voice.
“Has she remembered anything else?”
“She says she’ll know when she’s there.”
Jonathan put down his knife.
“That’s rather how we got into this.”
“And you’re still coming,” Mara said.
“Yes, well. I’d be unbearable if you left me behind.”
Daniel looked at the canvas bag beside Jonathan’s chair.
“Have you brought the whip again?”
“It’s already packed.”
Mara reached for the coffee.
“Of course it is.”
Lindiwe was waiting upstairs when they returned.
She had dressed for the caves in trousers and a loose shirt, though fastening the buttons had taken longer than she expected. Her injured shoulder felt stiff. She had slept carefully and woken whenever she forgot why.
The artefact rested inside a small bag on the bed.
During the night, she had unwrapped it once.
Its central gem had glowed against her hands. The smaller stones had remained dark.
She had waited for the room to change, for the strength and ease of the evening to return. Nothing had happened.
Eventually she had covered it again and gone back to bed. Now Mara handed her the drawing. Lindiwe studied it, then turned it slightly.
“What?” Daniel asked.
“I drew it as though I was standing.”
“Weren’t you?”
She shook her head.
“I was lower down.”
She bent towards the paper, then stopped as her shoulder protested. Mara lifted it for her.
Lindiwe looked along the marks.
“There.”
Her finger rested beside the lowest one.
Jonathan came closer.
“What are you looking at?”
“The way it goes around the edge.” She paused. “I don’t think we’ll see all of it from above.”
He took the paper when she offered it.
“That helps.”
“Does it?”
“It gives us somewhere to start looking.”
Vale knocked at the open door.
“The car’s ready.”
His gaze moved briefly to the bag on the bed.
Lindiwe picked it up herself.
They left the city with Jonathan’s drawing spread across his knees.
Vale sat in front beside Daniel. Mara and Lindiwe shared the back seat with Jonathan, who had discovered that five adults, several bags and a hat required a little negotiation.
The hat ended up on his head.
For the first part of the journey, they talked about ordinary things. Traffic. The weather. Whether Jonathan had eaten enough to make another visit to the caves inadvisable.
Lindiwe listened, grateful that nobody expected her to explain anything.
Once the road opened out, Mara leaned towards her.
“Did it do anything when you were alone?”
Lindiwe knew what she meant.
“Only the middle stone.”
Mara nodded.
“I kept wondering.”
“So did I.”
Ahead of them, Vale turned slightly in his seat.
“The others responded when we were together.”
“We noticed,” Daniel said.
Vale faced forward again.
Daniel regretted the sharpness almost immediately. He had wanted answers from this man since learning who he was. Now he had some, and still found himself looking for what had been withheld.
“What I mean is,” he said, “we don’t know how much you already understand.”
“Less than I did yesterday.”
Jonathan looked up from the drawing.
“That makes five of us.”
Vale gave a small smile.
Lindiwe rested her good hand against the bag. Through the cloth, she could feel a faint warmth.
She thought of the cabinet they had seen and its two waiting objects. Then of the other chamber, the one she remembered with a certainty that had survived sleep.
She wanted to reach it.
Beside her, Mara was looking out at the passing countryside. Lindiwe wondered whether she felt the same pull, but chose not to ask. There had been enough questions the previous evening.
Pieter was outside when they arrived.
He greeted Jonathan first, then Daniel and Mara. His attention moved to the two unfamiliar faces.
“Your party’s growing.”
Jonathan made the introductions.
“Lindiwe may be able to help us with the markings.”
Pieter looked interested.
“You’ve worked on them before?”
“No,” she said. “But I’d like to see them.”
Jonathan handed him the folded drawing. Pieter opened it carefully. For a few seconds, nobody interrupted him.
“I don’t remember this lower part,” he said.
“Could it be below the ledge?” Jonathan asked.
“Possibly.” Pieter turned the page. “The light was poor there yesterday.”
Lindiwe looked beyond him towards the entrance.
The morning was bright. Somewhere nearby, a bird called repeatedly from a tree she could not see.
She tightened her hand around the strap of her bag.
Pieter folded the paper again.
“Come through. We’ll get you equipped.”
Daniel waited while Mara adjusted the fastening on her jacket.
“Ready?” he asked.
She glanced towards Lindiwe, then back at him.
“I’d like to see what’s in the other room.”
“So would I.”
They followed the others inside.