“Even though the days here are hot, I can’t complain about the nights,” Cassie observed.
She and Erik waited patiently while Griffin hammered furiously at his computer keyboard trying to find some answers about the mysterious helmsman named Canopus.
“Aha!” Griffin exclaimed in triumph.
Cassie and Erik traded knowing glances. “Did you bet that he was gonna say ‘Eureka’?” the paladin asked.
“Nope, dude. My money was on ‘Aha.’ Pay up.”
Erik handed her a quarter.
Griffin glanced up at them. “Am I really that predictable?”
“You are.” Cassie straightened up in her chair. “But in a good way. Tell us what you found. We’re all ears.”
Griffin leaned over the table confidentially. “Well, it seems our mythological friend Canopus was a favorite of Menelaus, the king of Sparta. Canopus delivered the king safely to Troy which was quite an accomplishment in those days. Sadly, on their return trip, the young man had the misfortune to be fatally bitten by a poisonous snake somewhere along the coast of Egypt. In honor of Canopus, Menelaus built a monument on the spot where he died. Later a town bearing the helmsman’s name sprang up around that site.”
“The course he sets reveals his fate,” Cassie murmured. “Maybe we’re supposed to go to the place that was named after him.”
Griffin shook his head. “The ancient city of Canopus doesn’t lie southeast of here. It’s on the outskirts of Alexandria.”
“Do you have a map of this part of the world?” Erik asked.
“Of course.” Griffin rummaged around among his papers and produced a map of Egypt.
“What if we were to draw a line directly southeast from Nabta Playa. What would we hit?”
“In Egypt, not much of anything,” the scrivener replied. “We’re very near the southern border of the country. Let me get the map of Sudan.”
“Now that’s a country I’d like to stay out of,” Erik commented.
“Why?” Cassie asked.
The paladin shook his head. “There’s another civil war going on in South Sudan.”
“We may not have to go that far,” Griffin retorted. He had already spread the maps of Egypt and Sudan out on the table and was drawing a line with a ruler across them. “This will give us a rough idea. I’ll check actual coordinates, of course, once we have a possible location.”
The other two rose out of their chairs and came to stand behind him, craning their necks over the map.
“Hullo, what’s this?”
“Did you call that?” Erik whispered to Cassie.
“Nope. ‘Hullo’ is a new one. I would have gone with ‘By Jove.’”
“I can hear you mocking me,” Griffin murmured, never taking his eyes off the map.
“We mock with affection.” Cassie gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Please suspend your raillery for the time being. I believe I’ve found something.”
Cassie and Erik followed his index finger as it pointed to a location in the upper third of Sudan which was situated right on the banks of the Nile.
“Meroe is a historically significant town. It was the ancient capital of the kingdom of Kush, but I don’t believe Meroe itself is our destination. The city wasn’t founded until 800 BCE which places it after our Minoan travelers would have visited the area. No, I believe we’re looking for something far older but close by.”
“What about this spot?” Cassie placed her finger on another location on the map. “Karima. I’m feeling a strong pull toward it.”
“So, you’re dowsing now?” Erik raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Cassie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a hunch, and I’m just gonna go with it. Griffin, can you look up something about Karima?”
The scrivener typed for several seconds, scanning his monitor for information. His eyes widened. “Good goddess!” he exclaimed.
“See, I would never have called that one,” Erik whispered to Cassie who nodded in agreement.
Ignoring his colleagues, Griffin continued to stare at the screen. “This is remarkable!”
“What is?” Cassie prompted.
“So, tell us already,” Erik insisted.
When Griffin looked up from the screen, his expression was jubilant. “I believe Cassie has found the spot. It’s not Karima. Or more precisely, the location is the same, but in ancient times the place would have been called Napata. It was a city founded by the pharaohs of Egypt to mark their southern boundary with Nubia. The area was hotly contested as Egypt lost power and Nubia gained it. The ownership of Napata changed hands a few times.”
“I don’t get it. What was so special about this town that everybody was fighting over it? Did it have gold mines?” Cassie asked.
Griffin began typing again. “It wasn’t the town that was significant. The town was founded because of a topographical oddity. Have a look at this.” The scrivener pulled up an image of a flat-topped mountain sitting alone in the middle of the desert.
“Jebel Barkal,” Erik read the caption on the screen.
“It was called the ‘Pure Mountain’ in ancient times perhaps because of its solitary position. There are no other mountains for miles in that stretch of desert. More importantly, it was a famous landmark for caravans travelling southward. It marked the spot where the current of the Nile was slow enough to make for an easy crossing.”
“But what has that got to do with our riddle?” the pythia asked.
“Everything,” Griffin replied mysteriously.
“It’s way too late in the evening for cryptic.” Cassie moaned. “I can’t handle cryptic right now.”
“As you wish.” The scrivener laughed. “It isn’t the mountain per se that’s important but a very peculiar rock formation on its southern face.” He pointed to an outcrop rising off the side of the mountain.
“To the ancients, that rock formation appeared as a rearing cobra. The cobra was the symbol of Wadjet, sometimes spelled Ua Zit, the principal goddess of pre-dynastic lower Egypt. Her patronage was considered essential in establishing a claim to the throne. That is why the overlord pharaohs incorporated the uraeus, or rearing cobra, into the design of the imperial crown. Of course, by the time the town of Napata was founded, the Egyptians had demoted Wadjet and instead worshipped the overlord god Amun. Nevertheless, the uraeus was still part of the crown, and the rock formation on Jebel Barkal must have seemed to the Egyptians as a divine mandate. It was proof of their right to rule not only lower Egypt but upper Egypt as well.”
“And this has what to do with Canopus?” Cassie still didn’t see the connection.
“I get it,” Erik nodded. “The course he sets reveals his fate. If Canopus is leading us to Jebel Barkal, he’s leading us right to the thing that killed him. A poisonous snake.”
“Dude, I would have gotten there eventually,” Cassie protested though she was smiling.
Griffin leaned back from his keyboard and laced his fingers behind his head. “My friends, I believe we’ll find our artifact hidden somewhere on that pinnacle of rock.”
Cassie nodded in agreement. Nudging Erik in the ribs, she said, “By Wadjet, I think he’s got it.”
Chapter 34—Starry-Eyed
“I got here as fast as I could,” Daniel panted. He was out of breath from running up the escalator.
The minute he spoke, Chris put a warning finger to his lips. “Shhh!”
Libby, the other research librarian, shot them both a suspicious look.
Chris slipped a notebook computer under his arm. “Come with me,” he whispered.
Daniel followed eagerly. He knew that Chris had made some kind of breakthrough in understanding the Minoan riddles. The librarian had called him that morning and told him to come downtown immediately. The scion asked no questions. He would have grasped at any excuse to spend time with his friend.
The two young men took the elevator up to the Rare Book
Exhibit on the top floor. It had become their usual rendezvous spot ever since Daniel had explained the confidential nature of his research. There was no other space in the building that could afford them the same privacy.
They settled themselves on the circular bench in the center of the room and waited for Chris’s computer to power up.
“I think I figured it out,” the librarian announced. His eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Wait til I show you!”
Daniel inched closer on the bench, so he could look at the screen over Chris’s shoulder.
“The Minoans were a clever bunch,” the librarian began. “They used celestial navigation to drop those hints for you. The bit about ‘set your course’ was a dead giveaway.”
“What’s celestial navigation?” Daniel asked. He had never heard the term before.
“Minoan mariners figured out how to pilot a ship by using the position of the stars, especially the pole star because it hovers over the North Pole and doesn’t move during the night. Here, look at this illustration.” Chris pulled up an image of a man in medieval dress standing on board a sailing vessel. He was holding two sticks hinged together at one end and attached to one another at the other end by a string. The man was looking toward the horizon.
The librarian continued. “This is a crude way to determine latitude. If you were to measure the distance between the pole star and the horizon, you would know how far north of the equator you were. Sailors used to run a string between the top stick and the bottom stick. They would put a series of knots in the string, and each knot would represent a different latitude. As long as the distance between the horizon and the North Star matched the distance from a particular knot to the top of the stick, they knew they were holding to the same latitude.”
“Set your course four bees from the dragon’s wing to the sea,” Daniel murmured under his breath.
“I never did figure out that dragon’s wing business,” Chris admitted. “But if I were to guess, I’d say it’s a reference to the North Star.” He turned his attention to Daniel. “Do you know what the bees are about?”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” Daniel agreed with growing excitement. “The first artifact I retrieved was a golden bee, a few inches high.”
A slow grin spread over Chris’s face. “Four bees. That’s it! The Minoans were telling you to use your artifact as a measuring device. If you used the sticks in the diagram and pointed one at the North Star and the other at the horizon, the distance between would have been four bees. That would have been the latitude of the place where you were supposed to end up.”
“And I stumbled on the location almost by accident,” Daniel muttered in embarrassment.
“You still found it, so kudos to you.”
The scion blushed.
“Just out of curiosity, where did you end up?”
“In northern Spain. The Basque region, close to Durango.”
Chris was silent for a few moments, apparently considering the navigational implications of where the riddle had led.
Daniel was already thinking of the next clue. “What do you make of the goat grazing the spinner’s peak?”
“What?” The librarian blinked, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Oh, right. Spinner’s peak,” he repeated and paused to concentrate. “The place where you found your artifact. Was it in the mountains?”
“Yes, it was.” Daniel could barely contain his elation. “We found the relic in a cave on a mountain called Anboto.”
“Anboto, Anboto,” Chris chanted as he typed the word into his search engine. Quickly scanning the results, he exclaimed, “Gotcha!”
“What? What did you get?” Daniel craned his neck to see the text displayed onscreen.
“Spinner’s peak. It’s a mythological reference to a goddess named Mari.”
“That’s right,” the scion agreed. “The Basques considered Anboto her sacred mountain but what does that have to do with spinning?”
Chris sighed. “If you’d done a search on her name, you would have found out that this particular goddess was said to sit at the entrance to her cave and spin golden thread.”
“So, the Minoans were also using mythology to leave clues,” the scion observed in surprise. The thought had never occurred to him before.
“Apparently,” Chris agreed.
“Now what about the grazing goat?” Daniel pressed on. “I know there are sheep that graze that mountainside.”
The librarian laughed. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean a live animal since this riddle was set down three thousand years ago.”
“Of course, you’re right,” Daniel admitted self-consciously.
Chris rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Maybe we’re back to the stars again. I wonder...” He trailed off and began typing.
When the search results popped up, Daniel read the screen. “Capella?”
“Very tricky,” Chris said appreciatively. “Now they’re combining mythology with celestial navigation. This particular goat star called Capella might have been positioned right around the summit of Anboto at a certain time of the year. I’m pretty sure the clue about the bull turning the season is some kind of springtime reference.”
“Why would the time of year matter?” Daniel asked.
The librarian shrugged. “I don’t know. Did any of your earlier clues depend on the time of year?”
Daniel hung his head. “Perhaps. I probably missed the reference entirely.”
“My guess is that it has something to do with where the sun rises. Maybe at the time Capella was positioned over Anboto in the spring, the rising sun might have hit the cave directly and pointed it out to you. Or maybe the star itself was close to the entrance of the cave.”
“There was so much I didn’t understand about these riddles,” the scion confessed. “It’s a miracle I found my way to the right place at all.”
Chris rubbed his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Now you know better. The next riddle will be a snap for you to solve.”
Daniel took comfort from his words and even more comfort from the soft pressure of Chris’s hand on his back.
The scion gazed at the librarian with wonder and admiration. “You’re amazing.”
Chris gave an arch smile. “I’ve been told that any number of times but for a completely different reason.”
Daniel was puzzled.
Seeing his confusion, Chris added, “It’s always nice to hear, no matter what the context.”
The scion returned his smile. Their eyes met for a few seconds. Flustered by how his pulse had quickened, Daniel looked away and changed the subject. “It seems to me the Minoans were using a consistent symbolic system that carries through all the riddles.”
Chris nodded in agreement. “Right. You can expect some of their clues will refer to the physical location of stars for navigational purposes and some of their clues will refer to the mythology of stars.”
“They also like ancient megaliths,” Daniel added as an afterthought.
Chris did a double-take. “Really? Why didn’t you mention that before? It’s incredibly important!”
“I... I’m sorry,” Daniel stammered. “I didn’t have a good grasp of what mattered and what didn’t. The first artifact was found hidden in the middle of a stone circle in Turkey.”
“A stone circle,” Chris echoed, his thoughts obviously churning with new possibilities.
“And I think the next riddle may have something to do with megaliths as well,” Daniel offered.
“Let’s have it,” Chris prompted.
“It’s much shorter than the earlier riddles. Only two lines. It was written on this.” Daniel reached into his portfolio and drew out a photo of the lapis dove.
Chris bent over the picture with avid interest. “This is amazing. What was the riddle?”
Daniel repeated the verse from memory. “‘One dove flies to wake the helmsman. The course he sets reveals his fate.’”<
br />
Chris stared at the photo in silence for almost a minute. “It sounds to me as if the reference to a single dove is another latitudinal marker.”
“Yes, I see,” Daniel agreed with rising hope. The gibberish of the riddles was finally making sense to him. “So, we would measure the distance from the dove’s beak to its tail one time.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Chris corrected him.
Daniel shot him a puzzled glance.
The librarian picked up the photo and held it before his friend’s face. “The dove isn’t flying north. If it’s flying to wake somebody, that means it’s headed east.” He turned the picture sideways, so the dove’s beak pointed to the right. “We measure from wing tip to wing tip.” He frowned as a thought occurred to him. “What’s the actual dimension of this bird?”
Daniel had written down the measurements, and they calculated the wingspan.
“And how many inches would four bees have been?”
Daniel did a quick calculation and told him.
“That would mean the latitude of one bird is about half of four bees,” Chris murmured. He turned back to his computer and typed in a handful of characters. After consulting the search results, he said, “The latitude of Anboto, Spain is roughly 43 degrees north. I expect you’re looking for something half that distance from the equator. Probably between 21 and 23 degrees north latitude.”
“And east of Spain,” Daniel added helpfully.
“Right.” Chris had pulled up a map of Africa. He pointed to a region cutting across the northern quarter of the continent. “Right through here.” His finger traced a line from west to east along the Tropic of Cancer. He gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of ground to cover, and most of it is desert.”
“We can narrow the search a bit more,” Daniel suggested.
Chris turned to stare at him.
Daniel held up the photo. “With these.” He pointed to the cluster of gems which studded the bird’s back.
The Arkana Mysteries Boxed Set Page 97
