Squatting and bending, Miguel squeezed into the tunnel and then, holding his sword and candle out ahead in one hand, shuffled forward far enough to allow Luis room to drop down into the hole behind him. The musty air, long trapped here under the Pyramid of the Sun, turned the spit in the back of his throat bitter as he swelled his cramped chest against the rock walls and sucked in short gulps. He heard a grunt as Luis slid into the tunnel, heard Luis gag and spit then felt the tap of Luis's sword point on his boot.

Miguel began to crab along the tunnel, neck bent, head down, straining to see ahead from under his eyebrows, cramped muscles already burning. He had gone far enough that he was sure he was beyond the walls of the cave above when the passageway led up into a narrow flight of stone stairs.

The top of the stairwell was covered by a smooth ceiling of stone. Up against solid rock here beneath the Pyramid of the Sun, Miguel's heart raced. His lungs seemed shallow, unable to hold enough of the foul air to satisfy him. I'm fucked, he thought. Maybe Luis can back his way out of here, but not me. I'm jammed in here like a bunghole stopper in a cask of sour Portuguese wine! The stinking spit ball that had grown on the back of his tongue climbed back up his throat each time he tried to swallow it.

Miguel put his head and shoulder against the overhead rock and pushed. The stone fought him as he shoved up at it again and then again. His legs quivered and burned under the strain, then the slab of brown rock scraped, slid sideways, and in the flickering light from his candle, he saw open space above.

Holding his candle above his head, Miguel stepped up into the heart of the Pyramid of the Sun, into a narrow chamber with walls, floor, and ceiling constructed of fitted, cut-stone blocks. He knew that the ceiling blocks, supported by the walls and stretching the width of the room, were holding the weight of the mountainous pyramid above.

Miguel turned, and what he saw made his skin ripple cold and his yellow beard bristle. Facing him in the middle of the floor, eyes locked onto his, ears laid back, lips drawn in a snarl, every muscle tensed, crouched a giant stone jaguar.

"Jesus Cristo!" Luis said as he climbed up into the chamber beside Miguel, his candle adding to the light. "Jesus Christ! I thought we were stuck in that tunnel. After almost pissing my pants in there, we had better find some gold in this pyramid!"

The iron links in Luis's chain mail shirt tinkled as he began to tremble, and Miguel knew that he had seen the jaguar. Luis crossed himself with the sign of the crucifix.

"The Teotihuacan people must have considered the big, spotted cat sacred," Miguel said. "I have seen other jaguar carvings here in the old city but nothing as large or as perfect as this."

"I don't like the way it looks at me," Luis said, "Why do you suppose they put it here?"

"I think that it's a coffin," Miguel answered. "A jaguar shaped coffin." He moved a step to one side and held his candle higher. "See that seam along its side? The top of the jaguar's back is the lid."

Miguel looked at his brother, who was still staring into the jaguar's eyes. "We can't stop now, Luis. Let's see what is inside."

He handed his candle to Luis and stepped forward alongside the stone jaguar, his shadow looming on the wall behind him. Carved to a thin shell of air-bubbled lava rock, the lid was lighter than he expected.

As Miguel slid the coffin lid aside, Luis moved ahead and held the candles to shine light down into the belly of the cat. They both gasped at what they saw.

"Dios mio," Miguel said. "My God. The Aztec legends are true. There is a king buried here."

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