Chapter 25

25

May 12, 9:45 A . M . MSK

Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Russian Federation

"It's getting warmer," Jason commented from the front of the group.

As they all filed down the never-ending staircase, Gray had noted the same. He wiped his damp brow. His ankle throbbed with every step.

Ivan the Terrible must have buried his library deep—if it's even down here .

Continuing the descent, Gray kept near the back of the group. He stuck close to Yelagin. The elderly bishop breathed hard, leaning heavily on his staff, picking his way down. Perspiration sheeted his face, both from the exertion and from the heat.

Below them, Anna offered a theory for the warming temperature. "This region is geothermally active, like much of northern Russia. The springs found here can be hot or cold."

Gray ran a finger along the limestone walls, noting it was rich in crystals that reflected their light like encrusted diamonds. The stone was dry to the touch, unlike the chilly dampness usually found in deep caves.

Was that the reason this site was picked? To help preserve the old books?

As they wound their way down, Yelagin cleared his throat and raised a question, most likely to keep himself distracted. "Do you truly think there could be a lost continent in the Arctic, one undiscovered after so long?"

Gray glanced over to him. "I don't see how. No such landmass has ever been detected by satellites. Though, in the past, eyewitnesses have claimed otherwise. Back in 1905, Robert Peary—the disputed first to reach the North Pole—said he spotted a distant land during one of his expeditions, a place he named ‘Crocker Land.' But that was probably just a crock of sh—"

Gray coughed, covering his near slip in front of the pious man.

Still, Yelagin smiled.

Gray continued, "Another American explorer, Frederick Cook, confirmed that same sighting in 1908."

"Then maybe something is out there," Yelagin offered.

Gray shook his head. "Many others, including the Inuit, have made such claims. But such sightings were either fabricated or due to some atmospheric trick of the light. Modern satellite surveys have irrefutably shown that under all that Arctic ice is only an ocean and an even deeper mountainous seabed."

"But what if—in the ancient past—the sea levels had been much lower, exposing those submerged mountaintops? As I understand it, the climate was vastly different back then. In Greenland, fossils of palm and fruit trees have been dug up. Along with bones of camels and rhinoceroses."

"Ah, but that's from a time long before the ancient Greeks, the ones who named Hyperborea and wrote accounts of its inhabitants."

Yelagin sighed. "Still, something keeps this myth stirred up. The Arkangel Society is not the only group searching for evidence of Hyperborea. There are explorations ongoing right now. Across the Kola Peninsula and in the Karelia region. Even through the northern Ural Mountains."

"But have any of those explorers turned up anything?"

"Not definitively. What they have discovered are remote regions with vast fields of petroglyphs. Some are not far from us. Around Lake Onega. And over in the Murmansk region. In fact, Russian archaeologists are craning in a huge dome—ten meters high and twenty wide—to protect a huge collection of rock art, a grouping from two thousand years before the birth of Christ." He looked pointedly at Gray. "Well within the scope of our ancient Greeks."

"I have no doubt that a prehistoric people populated this region, as inhospitable as it must have been at the time."

The bishop gave him a pointed look. "Unless those people also had greener pastures to retire to during the harshest seasons or toughest years."

"Hyperborea?"

Yelagin shrugged. "It's just speculation. But some of the strangest discoveries of late were found on a handful of islands in the White Sea. Archaeologists uncovered remnants of pyramids, tombs, labyrinths, and, on one island, a giant stone throne—as if the former occupants had been quite tall."

Gray heard the change in the bishop's timbre at the last. "Why's that significant?"

"There was a Roman historian from the third century—Claudius Aelianus—who described a trio of Hyperborean brothers. To quote the ancient writer, ‘ three in number, brothers by birth, and six cubits in height .' Which in modern measurements would make them three meters tall."

"If true, the king of those people would certainly need a large throne," Gray admitted, but he remained highly skeptical.

Yelagin looked hardly convinced himself. "Maybe the petroglyphs and other archaeological discoveries are evidence of some grander, more sophisticated prehistoric society, one that existed to the north before fading into obscurity. And the stories of Hyperborea are just overblown attempts to describe those lost people, casting them into mythic proportions."

"You could well be right."

"And those stories of the Hyperboreans' agelessness," Yelagin continued in melancholy tones, "maybe such acclaimed longevity came about because of a confusion involving the Arctic's cycle of day and night—where a polar day could last for many months. That would certainly make it harder to accurately measure a lifespan."

Gray had no answer to that, and any further discussion was interrupted by an excited shout from Jason, who had traveled some distance ahead.

"Everyone! Hurry up! Come look!"

9:58 A . M .

Jason stood at the bottom of the stairs, flanked by Anna and Bailey. He pointed his flashlight into a vast vault that opened ahead of him. Other shadowy chambers branched off from this one, forming a maze far larger than the wine cellar above.

Yet, similar to the grotto overhead, the floor here was tiled in blue. At the center of the chamber stood a massive oaken table, circular in shape and surrounded by chairs.

But Jason barely noted such details. What truly captured both his attention and his imagination were the hundreds—if not thousands—of niches carved into the limestone walls. They climbed a dozen rows high. The topmost would take a tall ladder to reach.

In each niche, there rested a sealed chest, banded in silver and plated in gold.

"We found it," Bailey said, nearly choking. "The Golden Library of the Tsars."

"Apparently that name was meant to be literal ," Anna noted. "Not just figurative."

Jason shifted his flashlight higher, revealing heavy timbered beams that buttressed the roof. Even there, thick sheets of gold had been hammered over their lengths, adding to the richness of the space. Between them, bright frescoes had been painted, showing studious figures bent over huge tomes, while others used long quills to illuminate manuscripts.

The scuffle of boots and the thump of a staff announced the arrival of Gray and Yelagin.

As the bishop joined them, he looked as if he were about to fall to his knees—and not from exhaustion. His gaze swept the space. A hand covered his mouth in shock.

"I never imagined it would be so grand," Yelagin mumbled.

"Maybe we should have," Anna said with a huge grin. "Our dear Ivan was not only terrible , but notoriously grandiose ."

Gray pushed forward. "I don't think that word quite captures the breadth of this space."

Drawn like moths to the golden shine, they all set off to explore the expanse, spreading out to either side.

Gray did not deter them, but he offered a warning. "Don't disturb anything."

Jason understood, remembering what had happened to the team under Moscow.

As they wandered and examined the collection, additional observations were made.

"It looks like these chests are sealed with wax," Bailey commented with his head cocked to the side, leaning close without touching.

"They're also marked in silver," Anna announced from another spot in the chamber.

Jason squinted at the tarnished sigil fixed under the lock of the nearest chest. "Glagolitic symbols."

"Numbers again," Anna explained. "Like the latitude and longitude markings around the sketched astrolabe."

Gray shifted down a row, looking closely. "I imagine it must be their equivalent of a Dewey Decimal system for this archive."

Bailey straightened and looked across their group. "If so, then there must be a catalog or index somewhere that lists what books are in each chest."

"And keys, too," Anna reminded them. "If we hope to discover where in this vast library are the hidden clues to the location of Hyperborea, we'll need both."

"True." Gray pointed his flashlight toward the labyrinth spreading out from here. "There must be a centralized office somewhere. We just have to find it."

Jason stared out at the branching expanse of chambers. "Should we split up again?"

"Considering the danger, not this time." He stared at the others. "We'd best stick close."

Determined to unlock the mysteries buried here, the group headed out. The beams of their flashlights speared in every direction, like wobbly spokes of a wheel. They peered into neighboring spaces, all of which looked roughly identical to the first: niches holding golden chests, a wide circular study table, and stout chairs, waiting to seat some future scholar. The only difference was each room's size and shape, which appeared organic versus designed.

"They must have used the natural contours of a cavern system to build this library," Gray noted.

The commander led them onward, stopping periodically to sweep his light to the left and right, then he would shift their path, using some arcane measurement known only to him.

As Jason followed, he tried to get his bearings. "It would be easy to get lost down here."

"A map would be nice," Bailey concurred.

"We might not need one," Gray said.

"Why?" Anna asked.

Gray stopped and glanced back at her. "If there's an organizational hub to this archive, it would either be at the bottom of those winding steps or positioned at the center of this sprawling archive. That makes the most sense. So, I've been leading us along a throughline across the library, trying to keep the same number of chambers to our right and left. Or at least, to the best of my abilities."

"Your best has served us well," Yelagin commented. The bishop had continued a few yards onward. He pointed his staff ahead. "That chamber looks very different from the rest of the library."

Jason hurried forward with the others. All their lights shone forward, aimed at the room where Yelagin pointed.

Ahead, an archway opened into an unusual space—one that was hard to fathom being buried this far underground.