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of this wall. Under all that soot might be more pictographs.”
    As she turned to say something further to Jared Black, she saw to her surprise that he had gone to stand at the cave’s entrance, a tall, broad-shouldered figure silhouetted against the morning sunshine, one hand resting on the wall, the other holding his helmet, which he had removed. Jared Black seemed poised at the edge of the cliff as if ready to fly away.
    There was a surreal aspect to the moment, the darkness of the cave with the feeling of the weight of the mountain pressing down, the closeness of the sandstone walls, the silence that was a kind of peace, and yet there was the opening to bright Pacific sunlight and beyond it the sounds of work crews, police, news choppers whirring overhead. Why was he standing there? What was he looking at?
    And then Erica wondered: why had he arrived here with such a large chip on his shoulder? Jared Black seemed to have come with all the open mindedness of a grizzly bear protecting its cub. If only there were some way she could make him see that it was possible for them to work together, that they did not have to be adversaries. But for some unfathomable reason he seemed determined to make her the enemy. The Reddman case was four years ago, yet it was almost as if, she couldn’t help thinking, the adrenaline from that battle and the high from the subsequent victory were still fueling his passion. Jared Black was a man preparing himself for a fight and Erica had no idea why.
    She continued to scan the cave with her flashlight, until her beam caught on something on the floor. “Luke, what do you make of this?”
    He looked down and saw that earth had been dislodged, exposing something grayish white on the cave floor. “It’s fresh. Looks like the earthquake disturbed the soil here.”
    Erica dropped to her knees and, using a whisk brush, gently cleared away the loose soil.
    “My God,” Luke said, his eyes widening.
    Jared came back in and stood in silence as Erica uncovered something with her brush, an object that looked like a rock with a hole in it. And then another hole. And then… teeth.
    It was a human skull.
    “This is a grave!” Luke whispered in awe.
    “Whose?” said the climber nervously.
    Erica, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline and excitement, didn’t respond. But she knew. Somehow, before excavating, before finding proof, she knew that they had found the remains of the artist of the sun painting.

Chapter Two
    Marimi
    Two Thousand Years Ago
    As Marimi watched the dancers performing in the center of the circle, she knew that tonight was going to be a night of magic.
    She could already feel the magic in her fingers as she skillfully wove the oval cradle board, laying the tender willow branches crosswise in preparation to support her newborn child; the surface would later be covered with buckskin and a basket sunshade added above the baby’s head. She could feel the magic in her womb as the new life stirred there, her first child, due to be bom in the spring. She saw the magic in the supple limbs of her young husband as he danced in celebration of the annual pine nut harvest, a handsome, virile hunter who had introduced her to the ecstasy of physical love between a man and a woman. Marimi heard magic in the laughter of the men as they danced, or gambled, or told stories while smoking their clay pipes; she heard it in the music of the musicians as they blew whistles made of hollowed bird bones and flutes made of elderberry wood; there was magic in the merry gossip of the women as they wove their brilliant baskets by the light of many campfires; in the children’s squeals as they played hoop and pole games or wrestled on the damp forest floor; and there was magic, too, in the faces of the young people falling in love, smiling behind their hands as they chose future mates. A “spirit” night, her mother called it, when the ghosts of ancestors were called forth by the souls of the trees and the rocks