![The Hunt For Atlantis pic_62.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/115524/read/images/pic_62.jpg)
By the time they returned to the hotel later that afternoon, Nina was exhausted. How much of it was just tiredness caused by touring Paris, and how much was a delayed reaction to her experiences in Iran, she didn’t know. All she did know was that before Frost’s expert in ancient languages arrived, she needed a nap.
Even lying on the huge, comfortable bed, however, Nina’s rest was uneasy. Part of her mind was still trying to process all the frightening and violent events she’d witnessed-been part of-since Starkman’s phone call. Her academic life in New York seemed almost like another world.
And even in her half-sleep, she couldn’t escape from the mysterious artifact, her mind still focused on the puzzle within her dreams. There was something about the piece, the strange feeling of memory she had experienced when holding it in the farmhouse.
Something familiar.
Something here.
Nina jolted to full wakefulness, knowing what it was, and how she knew it. She was curled up, knees tucked almost to her chest, one hand resting on the base of her neck.
Holding her pendant.
That was the sense memory she’d felt.
She leapt from the bed and raced to her desk. She snatched the artifact from under the magnifier and with her other hand hurriedly pulled the loop of the pendant over her head, holding the two pieces next to each other.
That was the connection! She’d had it all the time, and never even realized.
The telephone rang, startling her. Still clutching both pieces of metal, she clumsily picked up the receiver. “Yeah! Hello?”
“Nina?” It was Kari. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! I just woke up.” She was about to tell Kari what she had just discovered, but the Norwegian spoke first.
“I just wanted to tell you that the expert is here, so when you’re ready, could you bring the artifact?”
Nina caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. Her hair was standing up on one side where she’d slept on it. “Uh, can you give me five minutes?”
![The Hunt For Atlantis pic_63.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/115524/read/images/pic_63.jpg)
“That was seven minutes,” whispered Chase as Nina entered the lounge.
“Oh shut up,” she whispered back, looking around the room. Kari was sitting expectantly in an armchair, Castille leaned against the door to the corridor, eating an orange, and on a couch, sipping a cup of coffee, was…
“Hello, Nina,” said Philby, standing up.
“What are you doing here, Jonathan?” Nina blurted, thinking-hoping-this was a joke. Of all the people in the world Kristian Frost could have called upon to help analyze the artifact, he had chosen Professor Jonathan Philby?
“I think that’s the reason,” said Philby, looking down at the object Nina was carrying, wrapped in its cloth. “I got a call yesterday morning from none other than Kristian Frost, who told me that you’d helped find a most remarkable item but were having difficulty translating what was written on it. He asked if I would be willing to help you out. It was rather short notice, but…” He glanced at Kari. “Your father does have a way of making offers that can’t be refused!”
“Horse’s head in your bed?” asked Chase.
Philby looked at him uncomprehendingly. “No, a rather generous donation to the university. And, well, a flight in a private jet! Not something I’ve had the plea sure of before.”
“So, Jonathan,” said Nina, looking at him askance, “since when did you become the world’s greatest expert on ancient languages?”
“Really, Nina,” said Philby, “not wanting to blow my own trumpet, but I would have hoped you’d read my recent papers for the IJA. I think it’s fair to say that I’m one of the top five authorities in the world on the subject, and certainly the top man in the West. Although I’m sure Ribbsley at Cambridge would disagree!” He chortled at his joke, stopping when he realized that the absence of undergraduates in the room meant nobody else was laughing with him. “Well then,” he continued, “shall we have a look at what you’ve found?”
Nina carefully placed the artifact on the table as Kari adjusted a lamp to illuminate it. Philby’s eyes widened. “Oh, now that’s… that’s remarkable.” He looked up at Kari. “May I hold it?”
“Please do.”
Philby picked up the artifact, weighing it in his hands. “Heavy, but not pure gold, the color’s wrong… a gold-bronze-no, more like a gold and copper mix?”
“The word you’re looking for,” said Nina pointedly, “is orichalcum.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Has a metallurgical analysis been done yet?”
“Not of the entire piece,” said Kari, “but a small sample has been tested, yes.”
“And?”
“And I believe Dr. Wilde is correct.”
Nina gave Philby a self-satisfied nod.
“I see.” Philby clearly had more to say, but kept it to himself. He turned the artifact over. “Small circular protrusion on the underside, and on the top surface… ah!” He shot Nina a smug smile. “Nina, I’m disappointed! Surely you can translate this!”
“I’ve translated most of it,” Nina snapped. “It’s a map, directions up a river to a city. I couldn’t identify the other characters, but they’re definitely not Glozel.”
“Well of course they’re not,” said Philby. “But really! How could you not recognize Olmec inscriptions?”
She looked more closely. “What? Those aren’t Olmec.”
“Not classical Olmec, but the family resemblances are unmistakable. Don’t you see?” He indicated certain characters. “Some of the symbols have been inverted or restyled, but they definitely-”
“Oh my God!” Nina exclaimed. “How the hell didn’t I see it?”
Kari peered at the artifact. “Then they are Olmec?”
“God, yes! I mean, like Professor Philby said, not the classical form of the symbology, but definitely a variant. Older?” She looked at Philby for affirmation.
He nodded. “Almost certainly. They’re less refined, and maybe with an influence from the Glozel in certain places. Very strange.” He leaned back. “Glozel alphabetical influences in proto-Olmec hieroglyphics? That ought to ruffle a few feathers…”
“Who or what is an Olmec?” Chase asked.
“An early South American civilization,” Nina told him. “They were at their height around 1150 BC, mostly on the southern coast of the Gulf of Mexico, but their influence went a lot farther inland.”
Chase shrugged. “Oh, those Olmecs.”
“Professor,” said Kari, “what does the rest of the inscription say? I assume you can translate the Olmec symbols.”
“I can certainly make an attempt. It may not be entirely accurate; as I said, the characters aren’t quite the same as the traditional forms, but… Well, let’s see, shall we?” He adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, Nina doing the same from the other side of the table.
“That first symbol, could it be-an alligator?”
“An alligator or a crocodile,” Philby mused.
Castille perked up. “The crocodile river? That could describe a few places that Edward and I have visited. There was one time in Sierra Leone -”
“The next word is a combination of symbols,” said Philby, ignoring him. “God… and water?”
“Or ocean,” Nina offered. “Hey! The god of the ocean! Poseidon!” She and Kari both said the name at the same moment.
“Begin from the north mouth of the crocodile river,” Philby went on.
“Seven, south, west. The river at seven, south, west, presumably,” said Nina. “Follow course to the city of Poseidon. There to find… to find what?” She tried to make sense of the remaining symbols. “Damn it. I’m not exactly fluent in Olmec.”
“Let me see…” said Philby, running a fingertip above the artifact. “This first symbol looks like the one for ‘home,’ but with these extra marks. It’s almost like ‘descendant’-no, ‘successor,’ but that doesn’t really fit.”