"I take you."

Thorn rose with effort, his eyes locking with Jennings.

"Hurry-hurry," urged the Arab. "He say you come right away."

They traveled on foot, moving through the back-streets of Jerusalem in hurried silence, the small Arab leading the way. He was surprisingly swift for a man of his apparent age; Thorn and Jennings struggled to keep up, almost losing sight of him as he plunged into the crowds of a marketplace, emerging at the top of a wall on the other side. He was amused by their fatigue, always keeping twenty yards ahead of them, winding fast through narrow alleys and archways, smiling like a Cheshire cat when they finally caught up with him, gasping for breath. They had apparently reached the end of their journey, but it was a brick wall; Jennings and Thorn were suddenly afraid that they had been tricked.

"Down," said the Arab, as he lifted a grating, gesturing for them to climb in.

"What the hell is this?" asked Jennings.

"Hurry-hurry," the Arab repeated through his grin.

Thorn and Jennings exchanged an apprehensive look, then followed directions; the Arab replaced the grating after entering behind them. It was dark within; the Arab lit a torch, moving quickly ahead of them. He descended downward and they could make out in the dim light a slippery staircase made of rough stone. The street drainage had created a thick coating of brown algae that stank and made movement hazardous. They stumbled as they moved downward, but once on solid ground, the Arab surprised them by taking off at a sprint. They tried to run but could not get traction on the slick stones beneath them. The small man sped away, his torch becoming a mere pinprick of light in the distance. They were in near darkness, the tunnel narrow and confining, the walls almost touching them on either side. It was like a massive drainage canal, or irrigation ditch, and Jennings realized they could well be traveling the intricate system of ancient quarries described by the archaeologist at the digging site in the desert. Solid stone and darkness engulfed them as they moved blindly forward, their footsteps echoing throughout the tunnel ahead and behind. The torchlight had disappeared completely now, and they slowed, realizing they were alone. They could not see one another but felt each other's closeness by the sound of their labored breathing.

"Jennings . . ." Thorn panted.

"I'm here."

"I can't see . . ."

"That bastard . . ."

"Wait for me."

"No choice," replied Jennings. "We've hit a solid wall."

Thorn groped forward and touched Jennings, then felt the wall in front of them. It was a dead end. The Arab had disappeared.

"He didn't pass us going the other way," said Jennings, "I can tell you that."

He lit a match and it illuminated a small area around them. It was like a tomb; the rock ceiling seeming to press downward toward them, its crevasses wet and crawling with roaches.

"Is it a sewer?" said Thorn.