The Last Odyssey (Sigma Force #15) - James Rollins Page 0,65

Homer’s time,’ a people who wiped out three kingdoms in one fell swoop. Who could possibly have the strength and technology to accomplish that?”

Nehir met her gaze. “The Phaeacians.”

“Considering Hunayn’s mind-set and obsession, I see him coming to that conclusion.” Elena faced her adversary. “Hunayn left here looking for the Phaeacians. And if I’m right, I think it might give us some guidance on where to go next.”

As Nehir remained quiet, Elena sank back to her seat and bit her lip, hoping it had been enough. Finally, the woman turned and barked at the door, summoning Kadir.

Oh, no . . .

The giant barged into the room, ducking his head to enter. As he marched inside, Elena cast an apologetic look at Joe.

I’m sorry.

Kadir crossed to the desk, carrying a large cloth-bound bundle under one arm. She imagined it was some new device to torture Joe, to punish her for failing this test. Instead the giant swung the object up, and with surprising gentleness, placed it on top of her notes, then stepped back.

“That is your next challenge,” Nehir said and waved for Elena to open it.

She stood up and unfolded the bundle. She gasped as she recognized the age-tarnished bronze box from the frozen dhow. Her hands trembled over its surface—not at the fear of its low-level radiation, but at the treasure inside.

She stared over at Nehir. “What do you want me—?”

The woman turned away, motioned Kadir to follow, and said, “By noon tomorrow, I expect new insight into the map of the Banū Mūsā.” She cast a look back at Elena—then Joe. “Or else Kadir will be teaching you both a much harder lesson.”

Elena stepped after the woman. “I can’t possibly do that. You know parts are missing.” She pictured the astrolabe tumbling out of its cradle in the map.

Nehir ignored her and left with the other men.

Elena returned to her desk and stared down at the centuries-old artifact.

Joe joined her. “Pick up your pencils, kids,” he said. “Time for part two of the test.”

Elena reached down and lifted the lid, revealing the map. Again, its gold and precious jewels reflected the light, gleaming with a fiery magnificence. She gasped again and almost dropped the lid back down.

How could this be?

Inside the box, nestled in that golden glow, shone a brilliant silvery sphere, inscribed with constellations and symbols and encircled by the arms of decorated compasses.

It was the missing astrolabe—the Daedalus Key returned again to its cradle.

Joe groaned. “This can’t be good.”

19

June 24, 10:08 A.M. CEST

Cagliari, Sardinia

This had better be worth it.

Gray strode up the steep street in the heart of Cagliari’s old town, the seaside capital of the island of Sardinia. Ahead, the narrow avenue passed under a huge stone arch, flanked by Doric pillars and topped by an entablature of a crown and shield with the title REGIO ARSENALE beneath it. This corner of the old city, known as the Arsenal, once housed the city’s military barracks and prison.

But no longer.

Outside the arched gate, a long black banner hung with the silver words MUSEO ARCHEOLOGICO NAZIONALE DI CAGLIARI emblazoned on it. The former military square beyond the archway now served as Cagliari’s museum district.

Monsignor Roe led Gray under the stone arch, talking nonstop, sharing Sardinia’s history. It seemed the Mediterranean’s second-largest island had a rich military history. Gray barely heard any of it, knowing the priest was nervous, anxious after all that had happened.

He wasn’t the only one.

Seichan trailed a few steps to the side. Her gaze swept every inch of the sunbaked plaza as they entered it.

Piazza Arsenale already bustled with locals going about their morning, along with clutches of excited tourists gathered around guides holding up flags or umbrellas, likely groups from the three massive cruise ships docked at the city’s port. Overhead, seagulls screamed and swooped, while underfoot, clutches of pigeons danced about people’s legs.

At least the crowds and noise offered some cover.

Yesterday, after the attack on Castel Gandolfo, Gray had wanted somewhere to get out of sight, both to regroup and to hide the fact they had survived the bombardment. Monsignor Roe had recommended coming here, sailing two hundred miles to the island of Sardinia. They had traveled sixteen hours aboard a fishing trawler, captained by an old family friend of the priest, coming to port after two in the morning.

The others were still ensconced at a small seaside hotel. Gray had left Maria and Mac, both bleary-eyed and still shell-shocked, nursing mugs of coffee. Father Bailey had returned to his study of