warmongers,” said Belardinelli accusingly. “Violence is in their blood.”
“And in the blood of their enemies too, apparently,” she shot back. “Where’s the part about the statues?”
Belardinelli indicated a section farther down the page. Nina read it out loud. “ ‘When Nantalas held the statues, a great light would fill the Temple of the Gods, giving the high priestess visions as the stone called out to her. She said that such visions let her see through the eyes of all the watching gods, and that she could feel all life in this world.’ That’s what I …”
She trailed off, not wanting to let the members of the Brotherhood in on her secrets. “What I expected based on our new excavations,” she continued before quickly reading on until she found another relevant piece of text. “ ‘The high priestess requested the presence of the king at the Temple of the Gods. She told him again that the power of the sky stone would make the empire invincible. When he demanded proof, she brought the statues together and touched them to the stone. The king was astounded when it …’ ”
That was the end of the text, nothing more than the occasional letter discernible at the torn bottom of the parchment. “That’s all there is?” she asked Belardinelli.
“Nantalas appears in a few other texts,” he replied, “but only as a name—nothing more is said about her.”
She turned to Popadopoulos. “The Brotherhood is the only organization that has this information, yes? There’s nobody else who might have copies of it, or another source?”
“Not that I am aware of,” he said.
“And you haven’t shared anything from the archives with anybody but the IHA?”
“We would not even have done that if we had not been forced,” said Belardinelli, affronted.
“Why are you asking?” said the Greek.
“Because,” she said, “I think somebody has information about Atlantis that not even the Brotherhood of Selasphoros possesses.”
Belardinelli shook his head. “Impossible! The Brotherhood has been dedicated to its task for hundreds of generations. We have found everything there is to find about Atlantis.”
“Except Atlantis itself,” Nina reminded him. “You needed me to do that.”
The Italian seemed about to explode with anger, but Popadopoulos waved him down. “What are you suggesting, Dr. Wilde?”
“When I put the three statues together in Tokyo,” she said, “I had … an experience.”
“What kind of experience?”
“Let’s just say that Nantalas might not have been a fraud. But the thing is, Takashi—the guy who had the statues—knew what to expect, as if he’d read this text.” She indicated the parchment.
“Impossible,” Belardinelli said again.
“I dunno—this could very easily be interpreted as what I experienced, certainly from the point of view of someone living eleven thousand years ago. But the thing is, that wasn’t the only thing he was expecting. There were … other effects, is all I can say right now, when the statues were put together. Physical effects, that … well, the only way I can describe them is extraordinary,” she said, with a helpless shrug. “But Takashi wasn’t at all surprised—by any of it. Not only did he know about what’s written here, but he also knew something you don’t.”
Popadopoulos was stunned. “You think this man Takashi had read the missing parts of Kallikrates’s texts?”
“Maybe. Maybe more than that. Is there anyone else who might have information about Atlantis that the Brotherhood doesn’t? Governments, other secret societies?” She glanced up at the ceiling. “Religions?”
“There is nothing in the Archivum Secretum about Atlantis,” said Belardinelli firmly.
Popadopoulos was more doubtful. “Several governments have vast secret archives of their own,” he admitted. “But we have never shared our knowledge with anyone, except the IHA.”
“So, if you’re so sure that this parchment is the only copy of Kallikrates’s work, how could Takashi know what it describes?” Nina asked.
Belardinelli took off his glasses and paced across the narrow tunnel before whirling on his heel to face Nina. “The other part of the page repeats the same information, obviously,” he said, punctuating his words with more jabs from his finger. “Someone else possesses it—and that is where Takashi read it.”
“Parchment could be expensive,” Nina countered. “I mean, look how many words Kallikrates crammed onto this. You don’t waste it by repeating yourself.”
“But that—that is the only possible explanation,” said Agnelli. Nina had almost forgotten he was there.
“No, there’s another one. You won’t like it, though,” she told the two older men. “Someone inside the Brotherhood passed on the information to Takashi’s organization.”
The silence told her that her theory had not been well received.