The Bone Labyrinth (35 page)

He must have learned something
.

Earlier, she had wanted to go with him when he left—if nothing else, to see the famous Gregorian library for herself—but the stacks of rare books that he had intended to search were off-limits to the public.

She rubbed her eyes, surprised that she had actually fallen asleep, if only for a brief and fitful time. When she had first tried closing her eyes, she was certain her fear for her sister would keep her awake.

Must be more exhausted than I thought
.

She glanced at the slit-like window of this small private space of Roland’s colleague. It was little bigger than a closet, with a sofa and a small prayer bench under a cross. It felt less like an office space than a monastic space for contemplation.

Drawn by the excitement she heard in Roland’s voice, she stood and crossed to the door. In the next room, a small desk stood under a larger window, which was flanked by tall bookcases full of dusty volumes. In the center of the room rested a wide library table, with a cluster of mismatched chairs around it. The lingering odor of old pipe smoke and tobacco was stronger in here, as if Roland’s colleague had just stepped out.

“Come see this,” Roland called to her, stacking books on the library table. “If I’m right, it’s simply amazing.”

Stoked by the fervor in his voice and manner, Lena’s interest quickened.

Roland reached into his jacket and carefully removed the old journal of Father Kircher, the one found inside the bronze Madonna at the chapel. He reverently placed it on the table next to the other books. The gilt labyrinth shone in the sunlight streaming through the window.

Gray joined them at the table while Seichan remained near the window, her eyes on the streets below. The woman’s guarded manner was a reminder of the threat that still hung over their heads. It dampened Lena’s curiosity, but only slightly. She knew the best way she could help Maria was to piece together the mystery behind all of this.

She stared at Kircher’s journal, suspecting the answers might be found within those old pages. While driving to Rome, she had managed to get a brief look inside. The pages were scrawled with a meticulous script, all in Latin, set amid pictures, maps, and pages full of numbers.

“So were you able to learn anything from Kircher’s journal?” she asked.

Roland frowned. “Actually I’ve barely had a chance to give it more than a cursory review. It will take many hours, if not weeks, to fully understand the message locked within these pages. But I have made some headway.”

“Then what were you looking for in the library?” Gray asked. “You never made that clear.”

“I wanted to research that map inscribed on the inside shell of the bronze Madonna.” Roland pulled out his iPad from his satchel and placed it on the table. “It looked familiar. I recognized it from an earlier work by Father Kircher.”

Roland woke up the device and pulled up the photo that Lena had taken of the map.

It showed what appeared to be an island, with crudely delineated rivers and a couple of mountains.

“What’s that supposed to represent?” Gray asked.

Roland looked up, his face brimming with amazement. “You won’t believe unless I take you through it. I hardly believe it myself.”

Lena shifted closer. “Tell us.”

Roland tapped the iPad screen. “I recognized this map as soon as I saw it. A fuller version can be found in Kircher’s volume,
Mundus Subterraneus
.”

Lena remembered Roland showing them pictures from the Jesuit priest’s book, a volume full of illustrations both practical and fantastic.

“Let me find it.” Roland sifted through the records he had stored on the device concerning Father Kircher, including a full collection of his books. “Here it is.”

They all stared down at a map copied from one of the pages of
Mundus Subterraneus
.

The island featured in the center was definitely the same one carved into the bronze shell. Only here there were more details, including names and a legend at the top, written in Latin.

Lena couldn’t decipher much, except for the name written on the island in the center. “Is that what I think it is?”

Roland grinned and read the legend at the top. “
Situs Insulae Atlantidis, a Mari olim absorpte ex mente Egyptiorum et Platonis descriptio
. Or translated, ‘Site of the island of Atlantis, in the sea, from Egyptian sources and Plato’s description.’ ”

“This is meant to be Atlantis?” The incredulity in Gray’s voice was easy to hear.

“That’s right. According to what Kircher wrote in
Mundus Subterraneus
, this map was compiled from charts found on ancient papyruses he had discovered during his research concerning Egypt and from information gleaned from Plato’s writings. By Plato’s account, this island was home to a technologically superior race, a people who were also great teachers. Similarly, the Egyptian papyruses also spoke of the godlike residents of this island, who came bearing gifts of knowledge and wisdom, teaching the most ancient pharaohs.”

Lena recognized how much this sounded like her and her sister’s theory: that mankind’s Great Leap Forward was propelled by a small group of unique individuals.

“You must understand,” Roland continued, “the legend of these great and mysterious teachers is not limited to the Greeks and Egyptians. Ancient Sumerian texts also make mention of the existence of a race of tall beings whom they called Watchers. You’ll find these same Watchers mentioned in Jewish texts, even the Bible. But the most pertinent account comes from the Book of Enoch. According to that ancient text, it was a Watcher named Uriel who taught Enoch about the movement of the stars. The same text names other Watchers, along with the sciences they taught.”

He pulled one of the books from the pile, opened to a tagged page, and read aloud from it. “ ‘Semjaza taught enchantments and the cutting of roots . . . Baraqijal astrology . . . Kokabel the constellations . . . Araqiel the signs of the earth . . . and Sariel the course of the moon.’ ”

Roland lowered the book. “So you see this same mythology persists throughout ancient cultures.” He turned to Lena. “And in regards to your research into hybrid species of early man, the Dead Sea Scrolls references the interbreeding of these Watchers with other humans, mentioning children born of those unions.”

Lena swallowed, taking it all in. In her mind’s eye, she put flesh on the bones of Kircher’s Eve, wondering if these ancient hybrids between Neanderthal and early man might be the source of such legends.

Intrigued, she asked, “So did Father Kircher come to believe Eve was one of these Atlanteans, these ancient Watchers? Is that why he inscribed that map inside the bronze shell that housed her bones?”

“Possibly. Think about it. After the Madonna was sealed closed, Eve’s empty eye sockets would have forever looked upon that island, a place Kircher might have believed was Eve’s former homeland.”

“But that’s a pretty large leap for Kircher to make,” Gray commented. “To tie these bones to the mythology of Atlantis.”

Lena disagreed and pointed to the sculpture of the moon resting on the library table next to Roland’s satchel. “Kircher stole that from the prehistoric sculpture garden we found in those caves. Like us, he surely recognized that whatever people lived in those caves were much further advanced than anyone could expect or imagine. Remember how Kircher mistook the bones of a mammoth to be the remains of some extinct species of giant? It would not be hard for him to make a similar fantastical conclusion in regards to these bones.”

“Only in this case,” Roland said, his eyes gleaming, “the reverend father may have been correct.”

Lena turned to him, unable to hold back her own disbelief this time. “What are you talking about? How can that be?”

Roland looked down at the map glowing on the screen, then back at all of them. “Because I know the location of Atlantis.”

6:07
P
.
M
.

Roland took a small amount of guilty pleasure at their shocked expressions. “Like I said, let me walk you through it all. Then you’ll better understand the message left by Father Kircher.”

He tapped and zoomed in on the island of Atlantis found in
Mundus Subterraneus
.

“If you look at the compass rose on the reverend father’s map, you’ll see the arrow is pointing
downward
, indicating this chart was drawn with north pointing
down
and south
up
.”

“The reverse of most maps,” Lena commented.

“That’s right, and it wasn’t unusual for that time period to have maps occasionally drawn in this manner.” He danced his fingertips across the screen of his iPad and brought up a picture he had rendered while down in the university library. “I took the liberty of flipping the map around and labeling the surrounding continents in English.”

He showed the others the result.

Gray studied it for a breath. “If I’m looking at this right, it appears the island of Atlantis is drawn somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic . . . or at least somewhere between North America and Europe.”

“Which supports what Plato wrote in his dialogue
Timaeus
.” Roland grabbed a copy of the Greek book from his pile and read from a marked passage. “As Plato describes it, Atlantis lies beyond ‘the straits which are by you called the Pillars of Hercules’ . . . which in modern times are the Straits of Gibraltar.”

“Placing Atlantis outside the Mediterranean,” Gray commented.

“Correct.” He pointed down at the book in his hand. “But Plato also states here that this island is ‘larger than Libya and Asia put together.’ ”

Gray frowned. “That would make Atlantis less of an island and more like a continent.”

“And what
continent
lies outside the Straits of Gibraltar and close to North America?”

Gray rubbed his chin. “The only other continent out there is South America.”

“Exactly.”

Gray lifted his brows skeptically. “So you’re claiming the
island
of Atlantis is actually the
continent
of South America?” He pointed to Kircher’s map on the screen. “While I can appreciate that the coastline of this island does resemble South America, it’s drawn in the middle of the Atlantic.”