Chapter 43

43

May 14, 3:18 P . M . ANAT

East Siberian Sea

Gray sat atop his Polaris at the mouth of the misty tunnel. He pointed his headlamp across its threshold. Beyond, meltwater traced down a sloped ramp, tracing away into the darkness.

Seichan climbed onto her snowmobile. "The others are all set in the two Snowcats. I warned them to maintain a distance, to let us forge a path ahead of them."

Gray glanced back, hearing engines throttle up.

Omryn sat behind the wheel of one Cat. The Chukchi crewman had the most experience with the vehicle. He carried Jason and Sister Anna, along with the ship's doctor, Harper Marr. Tucker drove the second Cat, with the botanist Elle Stutt and his two dogs.

Gray felt this exploratory team of eight was too small for the challenge ahead—or possibly too large, considering the civilians in tow. But with the constrained timetable, he needed all their expertise, especially not knowing what awaited them.

If anything .

He had to accept that possibility, too.

Before leaving, his group had also armed themselves from the vehicles' weapon lockers. All of them now carried sidearms. Though, Seichan undoubtedly also had knives hidden under her winterwear at strategic locations. Sister Anna refused a pistol, but with some pressure, she settled on a flare-gun.

Omryn brought his own firearm, a Remington 870 DM Magpul. The 12-gauge shotgun was fitted with lead slugs in a detachable six-round magazine. He carried two more mags in a sling over his shoulder. He explained his choice of Arctic weaponry with an economy of words: polar bears . While no one expected to encounter such a creature here, such stopping power would be welcome if there was trouble.

Tucker still had an AK-12 that he had secured from the assault on the naval base in Severodvinsk. He gave a spare rifle to Gray, which was slung over his back.

Gray radioed the group. "Single file. We proceed with care."

He twisted the throttle and edged his Polaris over the lip of the slope, then began a slow descent down the icy chute. The treads of his tracks dug deep, keeping him from a deadly slide.

Seichan followed.

Gray studied the ramp under him. He pictured water trickling down here for centuries, building up into this natural slide into the heart of the mountain. He swiveled his light, inspecting the chute, watching for any worrisome cracks, wending his way around jagged boulders that had gotten blasted down here.

He also studied the rock walls to either side. As he descended, the walls slowly climbed higher and spread wider, forming a huge opening into the peak, easily forty feet high. The icy chute broadened under him, like a glacier spilling down a valley.

With the extra room, Seichan drew alongside him. The two Snowcats followed, keeping single file.

Gray glanced back. He pictured the tall archway and imagined a three-masted ship docked outside, maybe moored in the deeper waters.

He made the mistake of staring back for a breath too long.

Seichan shouted a warning. "Stop!"

She reinforced this by nudging her snowmobile into his, sending him in a sideways skid.

He braked hard, spinning a bit more on the ice, then came to a stop.

He quickly identified what had panicked her.

Twenty yards ahead, the rock walls vanished, opening into a gargantuan cavern. The ramp that they had been following spilled over an edge, forming a frozen waterfall that tumbled into the abyss.

Seichan stopped next to him and scolded, "Quit sightseeing. Eyes on the road."

The two Cats trundled up to them, then cut their engines.

Doors popped, and the team exited, wary of the meltwater-slick slope. Flashlights clicked on.

Gray waved everyone together. "Keep close. Watch your footing."

They carefully edged down the last of the ramp, aiming toward the drop-off.

Jason stared at the trickling water underfoot. "Definitely warmer down here."

Anna whispered as she kept close to the young man. "It's like the stories the Greeks told of Hyperborea, how its lands were said to be sultry and hot."

"A land we now know was heated by geothermal energy," Jason noted.

Elle supported this. "I smell sulfur in the air. Pretty strong."

Gray had noted it, too. It was the rotten-egg smell found around hot springs and geysers.

Tucker offered his own explanation. "It might just be Marco. His bowels still haven't fully settled after all that Russian prison food."

His attempt to lighten the mood failed.

The weight of the place—the history, the rock overhead—hushed the group into a wary silence. Sunlight still reached this deep, reflecting down the ramp behind them in a silvery-blue sheen. But ahead, where the chute dropped away, the world vanished into a Stygian darkness.

As they drew closer, Harper called to the group. "Oy! There are stairs over here!"

Gray turned. To the left of the waterfall, stone steps descended in a swooping arc, falling away into the shadows below.

"Same over there," Jason called out, pointing to the far side of the icy fall.

Gray guided everyone toward the doctor's side, wanting them off the ice as soon as possible. "Keep together."

They reached the stairs without mishap and gathered along the steps, which appeared to have been chiseled out of the rock. Gray stared past the frozen waterfall. On its opposite side, a matching staircase arched along the wall on that side. The two sets of steps formed a grand U-shaped promenade.

"How deep does this go?" Tucker asked, leaning over the edge of the steps with his flashlight in hand.

"Stay back," Gray warned. He turned to Anna. "Sister, you brought your flare gun, yes?"

Her eyes widened with understanding. "Of course."

She withdrew the yellow gun from a belt holster and handed it over.

Gray checked it was loaded, then pointed its muzzle high, aiming for the cavern's ceiling. He squeezed the trigger. A short bang launched a flare across the chamber. When it reached its apex, it burst into a blinding red sun. It hung in the air and slowly descended.

Despite Gray's warning, they all moved closer to the edge of the stairs.

"My god..." Jason exclaimed.

"I don't think your god has anything to do with this," Tucker said.

Gray gaped at the wonders revealed in the firelight. Stone pyramids, much like those of Egypt, climbed high. Below them, a contiguous spread of homes and structures formed a multilevel jigsaw puzzle. Several spires poked higher, topped by a sculpted mix of Nordic animals—whales, mammoths, walruses, seals, reindeer, caribou, and muskoxen—as if each were a totem to a clan of these ancient people.

As he stared, Gray remembered what had been carved in ivory on the mammoth tusk hidden at the Golden Library.

This is what that ancient artisan was trying to depict .

Before the flare expired, Gray turned to Jason. "Start recording all of this. We must bring this to the world. Show that this archaeological wonder belongs to all nations. Not just one."

"Like on the other side of the world," Tucker noted. "With Antarctica. A continent that by treaty belongs to no one."

Gray nodded. "We must preserve this continent , this lost Hyperborea, in the same manner. Before the Russians get here."

"You mean before all hell breaks loose," Tucker added.

3:39 P . M .

Recognizing the danger and the closing window of time, Gray got them moving quicker down the steps. They needed to record as much as possible, to be ready to share it with the world if given the opportunity.

As they continued, Gray dispatched another flare, both to light their descent and to assist Jason in capturing the wonders below. This second flare also allowed them to get a better sense of the place's breadth. They had been too overwhelmed the first time by the beauty and spectacle. They had failed to appreciate that this cavern, easily a half-mile across, was only one of many, all interconnected like the homes themselves.

It reminded Gray of the layout of the Golden Library, how it extended outward under the Ringing Tower across a series of rooms, forming a labyrinth. But the discoveries hidden here were far more ancient than any book found in a gold-plated chest.

Anna offered her own theory. "I think this place spreads out to those surrounding peaks, forming one great metropolis. These sea-faring people must have overwintered here, then ventured outward during warmer months."

"Which would make this the Rome of the Arctic," Jason added.

Anna smiled. "The old texts—of Greece and Rome—mention travelers, emissaries of Hyperborea who visited them. Such accounts were likely draped in mythological terms, by societies that could not comprehend the Far North or the sophistication of the people who had learned to survive here."

Gray could not argue against this—all he could do was keep them moving.

As they neared the bottom, finer details emerged. Across the spread of homes, and more dramatically across the pyramids, their surfaces had been carved with scenes of home life, of battle, of great hunts, and a bestiary of mythological creatures.

Gray remembered Bishop Yelagin's account of vast swaths of petroglyphs found across the lands of northern Russia, some so beautiful and advanced that they had to be preserved under a glass dome. Then there were those stone pyramids and tombs found on outlying islands of the White Sea.

Were they all the handiwork of these Hyperboreans?

With no way of knowing, Gray drew the others to the bottom of the steps. The group slowed, as if fearing to trespass any farther. Or maybe it was because they faced a larger obstacle.

"Where do we go from here?" Anna whispered. "It would take teams of archaeologists and anthropologists decades to study and understand this place and its people."

Gray heard the longing in her voice. She clearly wanted to be part of any such exploration.

Let's hope she gets that chance.

The group abandoned the stairs and spread out, examining the closest structures. The shoulder of a pyramid rose to the left. A matching one climbed on the chamber's far side. The structures looked to be made out of sandstone, either quarried or maybe manufactured in some geothermically-heated kiln. Elsewhere, roofs looked buttressed by ribs of whalebone.

Clearly wood would've been a rare commodity this far north. But apparently these ancients found ways to compensate with bone and stone—and not just with those materials.

"Look," Jason called over as he examined a home. He rubbed a finger along the green patinaed edge of a doorway. "I think this is copper."

Gray joined him and looked closer.

Definitely copper.

He straightened and pictured mines somewhere out there. Maybe these ancients had discovered more than veins of lodestone in this giant massif of rock.

Omryn offered additional anthropological insight. "Some Inuit were skilled in such metalcraft, going back three thousand years. They called themselves the Copper Inuit." He glanced significantly at the others. "It is said many of them had blond hair."

Gray frowned and stared across the expanse, again wondering how far these Hyperboreans had spread. Could they be the ancestors or teachers of the Copper Inuit?

Tucker waved an arm, drawing attention. "Kane and Marco are picking up something over here. Plus, you might want to see this—or maybe not. Not if you have a weak stomach."

The Ranger had wandered toward the towering waterfall, which glowed with their reflected light. Gray led the rest of the group over to him.

He stood near a cluster of old tents. They had been set up in a small square off to the side. The fabric, the wooden spars, all were remarkably preserved by the cold. Pots and pans lay scattered. Leather clothing dried on racks, stiffened to boards by age.

"It's the remains of an old camp," Jason said. "Likely left behind by Catherine's team or someone who came earlier."

"It's not just the camp's remains," Tucker said and crouched by one of the tents. He shined his light through its open flap. "But the campers, too."

Gary joined him, dropping to a knee.

Two bodies lay inside, mummified by the cold, preserved by the same. There was clearly something wrong with them. Their features, while withered and shrunken, also sprouted with strange growths, as if their bodies had become the beds for some malignant fungus or plant. Fibrous structures vined over them, entwining the two together. But whatever afflicted the pair had died long ago, turning brown and dried.

"What happened to them?" Anna asked, backing away and turning to Harper, the team's medical expert.

The doctor shook her head, keeping a distance herself. "I have no bloody clue."

Gray turned to the only person who might have any further insight. "Dr. Stutt?"

The botanist drew closer, showing no fear, only fascination. "It appears to be some form of infestation. Whether antemortem or postmortem, I can't say."

Gray was reminded of the other reason his group had sought out this place. It wasn't just to record the wonders found here, but to identify the danger hinted at by so many others.

He stared at the bodies.

Is this it?

Tucker reminded them again. "Something over here has Marco and Kane spooked."

Gray turned, noting the two dogs standing stiffly to the side, facing the icy waterfall, noses low, hackles high. Both growled in low warning tones.

"They're scenting something they don't like," Tucker said. "And I've learned to trust their noses more than my eyes."

Gray crossed closer to investigate. Framing either side of the waterfall, half buried in the ice, rose two tall stone thrones, all carved with symbols. The closest was inscribed with a riotous garden of twisted leaves and thorns, like a macabre version of Eden. On the far side, the tall seat appeared carved with sea life in all its myriad forms, as if waiting for Poseidon to rest his weary bones.

He remembered Yelagin mentioning the discovery of an oversize throne on one of the White Sea islands. The bishop had also shared a Greek account of a towering trio of Hyperborean brothers. Gray tried to picture someone three cubits in height sitting there, but even these chairs appeared too large, which suggested they were meant to be symbolic, rather than practical.

"There's a space behind this carved throne," Tucker said. "It extends behind the fall of ice, too."

Gray shifted over, stepping between Marco and Kane to get a peek into the gap. He pointed his flashlight into the narrow space.

"Anything?" Jason asked.

Gray nodded and faced the others. "Appears to be a tunnel in the wall between the thrones. It's reachable if we go single file."

Tucker frowned. "I think my partners would argue against trespassing there."

Despite the risk, Gray knew they had to investigate.

"Something must be down there," he said. "That tunnel is positioned grandly near the entrance, framed by those thrones, also by the pyramids to either side." He swung an arm toward the tents. "Even this lost group set up camp here."

"And look what happened to them," Tucker reminded the group. "You all can go inside, but I'm keeping my dogs out. That's if I could even get them to go in there."

"Just as well. It's best if we leave someone behind." Gray searched up the wall of ice. "In case we get stuck."

Tucker shrugged, looking more than happy to stand guard. "Keep in mind, our radios won't work once you're in there. Not through all that rock and ice. If you get in trouble, I'm not going to know. And vice versa."

"Understood. We'll have to make do." Gray faced the others. "If anyone else wants to stay here, I would understand. Just don't wander far."

He searched their faces. No one took up his offer, though Omryn looked doleful and worried.

Gray nodded and shifted behind the throne. "Then let's head out."