Rachel moved closer. Gray swept back. The disturbed sand dispersed and settled.
Protruding from the sand was a dark bust of a man.
“I think that’s magnetite,” Kat said, studying the stone of the sculpture. She swept her wrist compass over the bust. The needle twirled. “Lodestone.”
Rachel edged closer, staring at the face. There was no mistaking the features. She had seen the same countenance a couple of times today.
Gray recognized it, too.
“It’s another sphinx.”
12:14 P.M.
GRAY SPENT ten minutes clearing the shoulders and upper torso, reaching the lion’s shape below. There was no doubt it was one of the sphinxes, like the others littered on the seabed.
“Hiding it among the others,” Vigor said. “I guess that answers the question of when the alchemists hid their treasure here.”
“After the lighthouse collapsed,” Gray said.
“Exactly.”
They hovered around the magnetic sphinx, waiting for the disturbed silt and sand to settle.
Vigor continued, “This ancient society of mages must have known the location of Alexander’s tomb after Septimus Severus hid it in the third century. They left it undisturbed, letting it safeguard the most valuable scrolls from the lost library. Then perhaps the quake in 1303 not only brought down the lighthouse, but exposed the tomb. They took the opportunity to hide more down there, using the chaotic time after the earthquake to plant their next clue, bury it, and allow the centuries to cover it up again.”
“And if you’re right,” Gray said, “that pinpoints the date when these clues were planted. Remember, we’d already estimated that the clues were laid around the thirteenth century. We were off by only a few years. It was 1303. The first decade of the fourteenth century.”
“Hmm…” Vigor drifted closer to the statue.
“What?”
“It makes me wonder. In that same decade, the true papacy was chased out of Rome and exiled in France. The antipopes ruled Rome for the next century.”
“So?”
“Similarly, the Magi bones were moved from Italy to Germany in 1162, another time when the true pope was chased out of Rome and an antipope sat on the papal seat.”
Gray followed this train of thought. “So these alchemists hid their stuff whenever the papacy was in jeopardy.”
“So it would seem. This would suggest that this society of mages had ties to the papacy. Perhaps the alchemists did indeed join the Gnostic Christians of those turbulent times, Christians open to the quest for arcane knowledge, the Thomas Christians.”
“And this secret society merged with the orthodox church?”
Vigor nodded in the murky water. “When the overall church came under threat, so did the secret church. So they sought safeguards. First moving the bones to safety in Germany during the twelfth century. Then during the embattled years of the exile, they hid the true heart of their knowledge.”
“Even if this is true, how does this help us find Alexander’s tomb?” Kat asked.
“Just as the clues that led to Saint Peter’s tomb were buried in the stories of Catholicism, the clues here might be tied to the mythologies of Alexander. Greek mythologies.” Vigor ran a gloved finger down the face of the statue. “Why else mark the gateway with a sphinx?”
“The riddle masters of the Greeks,” Gray mumbled.
“And the monsters killed you outright if you didn’t answer them correctly,” Vigor reminded them. “Perhaps choosing this symbol is a warning.”
Gray studied the sphinx as the sand cleared, its expression enigmatic. “Then we’d better solve this riddle.”
12:32 P.M.
FINAL DESCENT INTO ALEXANDRIA
THE GULFSTREAM IV private jet received clearance from the tower to land. Seichan listened to the chatter of the cockpit crew through the open doorway. She sat in the seat nearest the door. Sunlight blazed through the window on her right.
A large form stepped to her left.
Raoul.
She continued to stare out the window as the jet tilted on a wing over the violet-blue of the Mediterranean and lined up for the final approach to the runway.
“What’s the word from your contact on the ground?” Raoul asked, biting off each word.
He must have noted her using the jet’s air-phone. She fingered the dragon charm on her necklace. “The others are still in the water. If you’re lucky, they may solve this mystery for you.”
“We won’t need them for that.” Raoul stepped back to join his men, a team of sixteen, including the Court’s master adept.
Seichan had already met the esteemed Vatican bibliophile, Dr. Alberto Menardi, a lanky silver-haired man with a pocked complexion, thick lips, narrow eyes. He sat in the back of the plane, nursing a broken nose. She had a full dossier on him. His ties to a certain Sicilian criminal organization ran deep. It seemed even the Vatican could not keep such weeds from taking root in their soil. Then again, she could not discount the keen edge to the man’s mind. He had an IQ three points above Einstein.
It had been Dr. Alberto Menardi who, fifteen years ago, had discerned from the Dragon Court’s library of Gnostic texts the ability of electromagnetism to unlock the energy of these superconducting metals. He had overseen the research project in Lausanne, Switzerland, and tested the effects on animal, vegetable, and mineral. And who would miss the occasional lone Swiss backpacker? These last experiments would turn the stomach of even the worst Nazi scientists.
The man also had a disturbing fetish for young girls.
But not for sex.
For sport.
She had seen some of the pictures and wished she hadn’t. If she hadn’t already been instructed by the Guild to eliminate the man, she would have done so on her own.
The plane began its final descent.
Somewhere far below, the Sigma team labored.
They were no threat.
It would be as easy as shooting fish in a barrel.
12
RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX
JULY 26, 12:41 P.M.
ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT
REMEMBER THAT damn fish,” Monk radioed from the boat above.
Twelve feet down, Gray frowned up at the bobbing keel overhead. They had spent the last five minutes ruling out various options. Maybe the sphinx sat atop a tunnel. But how would they move a ton of stone? Levitation was discussed, using the amalgam, like back at St. Peter’s. Gray had a test tube of the powder from his research on the Milan bones. But to activate it would require electricity of some sort…not wise in water.
“What fish are you talking about, Monk?” Gray asked. He had seen enough fish down here to turn him off seafood.