Immediately shots rang out. Rustam jerked, taking a bullet to the chest, but continued to stand, shielding Alexei and Dinara.
"Run!" he shouted, pushing them toward the passage.
Dinara screamed, seeing her grandfather take a second bullet. Alexei grabbed her hand and dragged her to the exit.
"Don't stop!" Rustam shouted, taking a third bullet and falling to his knees. Blood soaked his shirt, but he continued to grip the knife in his hand. "Find the truth!"
At that moment, Karabaev approached him and pointed a gun directly at his face.
"Where is the disc?" he asked. "The astronomical instrument?"
Rustam raised his eyes, full of contempt:
"You will never find it, Karabaev. Even with the medallion."
"We'll see," Karabaev replied coldly and pulled the trigger.
Alexei, dragging Dinara toward the passage, heard the final shot and her desperate cry. He looked back and saw Rustam's body lifelessly sinking to the stone floor of the cave.
"Let's go!" he shouted, pushing Dinara into the narrow passage.
They ran through the dark tunnel, stumbling over rocks, scraping their hands on rough walls. Behind them came shouts and the sound of footsteps—Karabaev's men were pursuing them.
"Faster!" Alexei urged, though he could see Dinara was barely keeping on her feet from shock and grief.
The tunnel gradually widened but became steeper. They were sliding rather than running, grabbing at wall protrusions to avoid falling.
Finally, dim light appeared ahead—the exit from the cave. They burst outside and found themselves on the opposite slope of the mountain. Rain was still falling, turning the slope into a slippery mess of mud and stones.
"There, to the trees!" Alexei pointed.
They ran down the slope, slipping and falling. Behind them, the first pursuers emerged from the cave. Shots rang out, bullets raising small fountains of mud near the fugitives.
Suddenly Dinara stumbled and fell, rolling down the slope. Alexei dashed after her, trying to stop her fall. He grabbed her hand, but the momentum was too great—they both rolled downward, collecting mud, leaves, and small stones.
The fall ended in a small ravine overgrown with bushes. They lay there, breathing heavily, dirty and soaked to the skin.
"Are you all right?" asked Alexei.
Dinara silently nodded, but her eyes were full of tears.
"Grandfather…" she whispered.
"I'm so sorry," said Alexei, embracing her. "But we need to go. They're still looking for us."
He helped her up. The bushes concealed them from pursuers, but it was temporary shelter.
"The book," Dinara suddenly said. "We lost the book! It's with Karabaev!"
Alexei automatically checked the medallion—it was still in place, hidden under his shirt.
"We have the medallion," he said. "So not all is lost."
He looked around. The downpour had turned into a drizzle, visibility improved. Below, in the valley, the lights of a village could be seen.
"We need to go there," Alexei pointed. "We need to find shelter and decide what to do next."
Dinara looked at him with eyes red from tears.
"Karabaev killed my grandfather," she said resolutely. "And he will answer for it."
"First, we need to survive," Alexei reminded her. "And find what your grandfather was looking for. Do you remember his last words? 'Find the truth.' He gave his life so we could continue the search."
Dinara nodded, wiping away tears.
"You're right. We can't give up now."
They began cautiously descending the slope, staying close to bushes for camouflage. Above, on the mountainside, flashlight beams still flickered—Karabaev's men continued their search.
"We need to search not for treasure, but for truth," Dinara quietly repeated her grandfather's words. "What did he mean?"
"I don't know," Alexei admitted. "But I'm sure we'll find out. For his sake."
The medallion on Alexei's chest warmed again, as if agreeing with his words. The mystery was only beginning to unfold, and the price had already been paid in blood.
Chapter 6: The Guardian's Vow
Morning mist shrouded the mountains, descending to the shore of Lake Issyk-Kul in milky swirls. The sun had just begun its journey, and its first rays, piercing through the veil, fell on the smooth surface of the lake, creating a fantastic play of light and shadow.
Monk Thomas stood on a rocky promontory, gazing into the distance. Behind him, on a small plateau, nestled an Armenian monastery—several stone buildings surrounded by a low wall. Here, in this secluded place, the surviving Nestorians had found temporary refuge.
He heard careful footsteps behind him. The monk did not turn—he knew who had come.
"Teacher," David said quietly, stopping beside him.
In the early morning light, the young man's face seemed especially youthful and vulnerable. Despite this, his eyes reflected a determination that Thomas admired.
"Good morning, David," the monk replied, not taking his eyes off the lake. "It's beautiful here, isn't it? As if the Lord Himself created this place to remind us of the perfection of His creation."
David nodded, but there was nervousness in his movements. He anxiously fiddled with the silver medallion that Thomas had given him the day before.
"You must leave today," Thomas said, finally turning to his pupil. "Before dawn."
"But the scouts report that the Mongols are still combing the area," David objected. "They know we're somewhere around here."
"That's precisely why you must leave now." Thomas placed his hands on the young man's shoulders and looked him intently in the eyes. "While their attention is focused on the monastery, you have a chance to slip away unnoticed."
"I cannot leave you all, teacher," David's voice was filled with despair. "I cannot abandon the brothers, sisters, children…"
"You are not abandoning us," Thomas gently interrupted. "You are fulfilling the most important mission. What we hid yesterday must be protected, and knowledge of it must be preserved for future generations."
He looked around to ensure they were alone and lowered his voice to a whisper:
"Do you remember everything I told you about the crystal?"
David nodded, involuntarily touching the medallion on his chest.
"It's the 'Key of Solomon,'" he said quietly. "A relic found in the mountains of Judea during the time of the great king. A crystal capable of healing diseases and opening the eyes of the soul."
"And?" Thomas pressed.
"And… amplifying both the light and dark sides of the human soul," David finished. "Granting light to some and plunging others into darkness, depending on what they carry in their hearts."
"Correct," Thomas nodded. "The Templars entrusted us with guarding it when the danger in Europe became too great. They knew about our community here on the Silk Road and believed that in these lands, far from wars, the relic would be safe."
He smiled bitterly.
"They did not foresee the Mongols. No one did."
Thomas turned away, looking at the rising sun. Clouds, penetrated by golden light, were reflected in the waters of Issyk-Kul as if in a giant mirror.
"Do you remember the map I drew?"
"Yes, teacher," David nodded. "It is safely hidden."
"And the cipher I gave you?