fascinated as the fiery seam extended past the Strait of Gibraltar. She had failed to note if the tiny silver ship had stopped anywhere else.
Her father’s face darkened, his gaze flicked to Monsignor Roe.
Elena lifted a palm. “But,” she stressed, “I do know where he ended up.”
Nehir stepped forward. “Ended up? Are you saying you know where Tartarus lies, where the gates of Hell are hidden?”
She swallowed. “I believe so. At least, I have a pretty firm idea of where Hunayn went to look for it. Especially if he had been following the guidance found in ancient books.”
“Tell us,” Firat said. “And we’ll be the judge.”
She nodded. “Hunayn placed great value in the words and wisdom of the Greek historian Strabo, specifically his book Geographica. Throughout that text, Strabo makes a case for Odysseus’s journey to Tartarus taking place at a semi-mythical city by the name of Tartessus.”
“Tartessus?” her father said with a frown. “That sounds a lot like Tartarus.”
“Exactly Strabo’s reasoning.” She drew up her notes. “Here’s one mention from Geographica. ‘One might reasonably suppose that Homer, because he heard about Tartessus, named the farthermost of the nether-regions Tartarus after Tartessus, with a slight alteration of letters.’”
“Where is this place?” Firat asked.
“According to Strabo and other sources, it lies ‘farthermost to the west’ and ‘beyond the Pillars of Hercules,’ which was the ancient name for the Strait of Gibraltar.” She straightened. “To the ancients at that time, anything beyond the Pillars of Hercules was considered to be ominous, where the sun set and night fell, so if you were going to imagine Hades or Tartarus lying anywhere, it would be out there.”
“But where out there?” her father pressed.
“Tartessus was said to lie along the Iberian coast of southern Spain, just beyond the Strait of Gibraltar. A city of great wealth and power.” She checked her notes again. “Here’s a description from a fourth-century historian named Ephorus: ‘Tartessus is a very prosperous market, with much tin carried by the river, as well as gold and copper.’”
She turned to Nehir. “Why do you think tin was so prominently mentioned, even above gold?”
Nehir shrugged.
Elena faced the others. “Because tin is essential to the production of bronze. Tartessus was known as a major producer of bronze and the elements to make it.” She pictured the horrors released from Hunayn’s dhow. “And you would need a lot of bronze if you intend to build an infernal army.”
As the others glanced to each other, clearly getting her point, she turned to Monsignor Roe. It was the priest’s moment to take the stage.
Roe cleared his throat. “But the city of Tartessus had other stories associated with it. From a very reliable source.”
“From where?” Firat asked.
“From the Old Testament.”
Elena’s father looked to her for confirmation. She simply nodded to the monsignor.
Roe continued: “Many of the books in the Old Testament mention a mysterious city named Tarshish. For example, in Ezekiel. ‘Tarshish sent merchants to buy your wares in exchange for silver, iron, tin, and lead.’”
Elena added, “In other words, another mythic city of riches, similar in name to Tartessus.”
“Many biblical archaeologists also agree,” Roe said. “They believe Tarshish and Tartessus were one and the same.”
Firat frowned. “But why does that matter?”
“Because of a swirl of rumors,” Elena explained. “About Tartessus, about Tarshish. Going back millennia—from ancient Greeks to modern scholars.”
“What rumor?” her father asked.
“It’s believed this city wasn’t only rich—but that it was home to a society far in advance of its time. Many even compared it to Atlantis.”
She let that sink in for several breaths. Glances were shared again.
“Whether true or not,” she finally said, “I have no doubt Captain Hunayn went venturing beyond the Pillars of Hercules, following the guidance of Strabo and others, searching for Tartessus, the gateway to fabled Tartarus, a place rumored to be home to an advanced society.”
“But where is this place exactly?” Firat demanded.
“I can point pretty close,” she admitted, drawing a sheet of notes. “Courtesy of a second-century A.D. writer Pausanias, who tells us that Tartessus lies along ‘a river in the land of the Iberians, running down into the sea by two mouths . . . some who think Tartessus was the ancient name of Carpia.’”
“And that helps us how?” her father asked.
“Because modern scholars have studied this description and others,” she explained. “They believe Tartessus was somewhere in a river delta between Cádiz and Huelva, along the southern coast of Spain. If you want to find the entrance to Tartarus, that’s where it’ll be. I can’t guide