astrolabe?”
“Intriguing,” Nehir admitted. “But what of it?”
Elena drew upon her night-long research. “Daedalus was a master craftsman, like Hephaestus. Only he was a man, not a god. Still, he invented all manner of ingenious devices.” She stressed the last to reference the Banū Mūsā brothers and their most famous book. “Daedalus fashioned the confounding Labyrinth where the monstrous Minotaur was kept. He crafted Icarus’s wings.”
She waved toward the books. “According to both Sophocles and Aristophanes, he also built animated lifelike statues. So deft of foot, that they had to be tied down or they’d escape. His reputation was such that the word daedala was coined to describe moving statues that were so perfect in form that they seemed beyond anything humans could create.”
Nehir folded her arms, trying unsuccessfully to hide her interest.
Elena continued. “Is it any wonder then that Hunayn—who came here because of Hephaestus’s reputation—would not seek out the trail of Daedalus just as ardently?”
“And where would that lead him?”
“According to myths, Daedalus was forced to flee Crete after he betrayed King Minos by revealing the path through the Labyrinth. On the run, he first fled to Sicily, then over to nearby Sardinia, where he made his home. That’s where we need to go next.”
Elena hated to give away the next port on Hunayn’s journey, but if it helped keep her secret about the map—and keep Joe from the tortures at the hand of Kadir—so be it. It was not like that information would prove all that useful. It was but one stop among many.
Nehir’s firm frown suggested the woman doubted the value of this information. Elena knew she had to drive this home for any hope of saving Joe.
“Two other details,” she said. “We know Hunayn was following what he believed to be Odysseus’s trail, hoping to find the mysteriously advanced Phaeacians, the people he likely believed were the destroyers of civilizations.”
Nehir uncrossed her arms long enough to wave at Elena to continue, plainly accepting this.
Good.
“One of the places where Odysseus tried to dock was at the island of the Laestrygonians. It was the home of man-eating giants who cast giant boulders at Odysseus’s ships, destroying all but the hero’s boat.”
“And what does this have to do with Sardinia?” Nehir asked.
“Because of a first-century Roman geographer, Ptolemy. Like Strabo, this scholar wrote a book titled Geographica. Surely Hunayn would’ve read this text, too.” She pointed to a scatter of books. “I certainly did, at least the parts pertaining to Homer’s Odyssey.”
“So?”
“In that book, Ptolemy mentions a tribe occupying northwest Sardinia. He called them the Lestrigoni—which sounds an awful lot like Laestrygonia. Upon reading that, how could Hunayn not go there? Plus, the western side of Sardinia has ancient giant statues that were said to protect the island by hurling boulders at ships. Again, just like the Laestrygonians.”
Nehir nodded, her gaze introspective.
Even Elena was now wondering if her reasoning was the same used by Hunayn to voyage to Sardinia during his first search for Tartarus. Still, she knew she needed to continue talking and not give Nehir a chance to pick apart her logic.
Elena pointed to the map. “Which brings us back to Daedalus. The namesake of the astrolabe. A man as ingenious as Hephaestus. But keep in mind, Daedalus was a man. Not a god. Even modern scholars believe Daedalus might have been a real person. Either way, here was a man who could build and craft incredible creations, nearly superhuman in design and function, certainly in advance of his time. What does that description remind you of?”
Nehir frowned and shook her head.
Elena posed another question. “Who was Hunayn searching for? What mysterious civilization did he believe brought the three mightiest Mediterranean kingdoms to ruin?”
Nehir straightened. “The Phaeacians.” The woman locked gazes with Elena, clearly understanding her final point. “You think Daedalus was a member of that group. That he was Phaeacian.”
“I think Hunayn believed that—and it drove him to Sardinia to find out.” She crossed her arms. “I know that’s where he went next.”
Elena actually did—though not necessarily for the reasons she’d given. But she hoped it had been enough to spare Joe.
Nehir nodded. “Very good, Dr. Cargill. Then that’s where we’ll head next.”
Elena sighed with relief.
Nehir turned away, but not before making a last cryptic statement. “Luckily we already have people there. Cleaning up a few loose ends.”
21
June 24, 8:27 P.M. CEST
Cagliari, Sardinia
Maria stood on the hotel room balcony, enjoying the last few minutes of sunlight. The day had been steamy, made all the more stifling