“Balaena mysticetus,” Omryn intoned, naming the specimen. “In English, ‘the mystic whale.’”
“Or as they’re more commonly known, the bowhead whale,” Harper added. “These beasties are unique to these waters. They can live for up to two centuries, making them the longest-lived mammal.”
Gray ran a finger along the totem’s back. “From this level of artistry, the species must have been highly regarded by these Hyperboreans.”
“Byallthe Arctic people,” Omryn corrected. “Many groups, including the Chukchi, have myths and legends tied to such grand creatures.”
Elle drifted to the far side of the tunnel, drawn by another piece of sculpted artwork. Directly opposite the whale totem, the wall had been deeply carved, showing a collection of strange flowering plants with spiky thorns. They looked very much like what had been engraved on the throne. Only these examples looked as finely rendered as a botanist’s anatomical drawing, so perfect that they appeared to have sprouted from the wall, then calcified in place.
As Elle studied them, she knew she had spotted this specimen before, depicted in another manner.
She drew the others’ attention from the whale totem. She pointed her flashlight. “I believe these are the same plants we found drawn inthe Greek book. The page marked with the wordsarkophágos. Or ‘eater of flesh.’”
Gray drew out his tablet and pulled up that sketch again. He held it before the carving.
“You’re right,” he said. “They’re the same. Even down to the vine snaking out from one of them.”
He glanced back the way they had come.
Elle could guess what he was picturing.
The bodies in the tent.
A frightful thought intruded, likely shared by Gray.
She voiced it aloud. “Maybe these specimens fed onmorethan just insects. Maybe the Greek word written on that page was not a name, but awarning.”
“Eater of flesh,” Gray said.
By now, Jason had drifted farther down the passageway, video-recording the stretch of wall on that side. “There are more carvings over here, framed in niches. Two of them. Related to whales.”
The group crossed and inspected the artwork, while Jason recorded everything.
The first niche showed small boats and tiny figures, likely the Hyperboreans themselves. Above, a flotilla of whales swam across the stone. There was a sense of majesty and pride in the depicted scene.
“It’s a whale hunt,” Anna noted. “And the two most prominent specimens appear to be bowheads again.”
Jason drew them two steps farther down. “And shows what happensafterthose hunts.”
Elle frowned as she shifted over.
The next niche was more gruesome, depicting the slaughter and butchering of another bowhead. It appeared the laborers were harvesting something vital from the cetacean. The rendering was cruder, almost as if the artist was ashamed of what he had been forced to illustrate.
“What are they trying to show with all of this?” Anna asked.
No one had an answer.
To seek more meaning, Elle turned to the opposite wall. Another niche sat across from the whale hunt. Again, this diorama showed workers laboring intensely. Only strewn across the floor and hanging on racks at the back were dried plants.
Elle waved the others closer. “This diorama illustrates anotherextractionprocess—only from plants this time. Most likely the same carnivorous specimen from before.”
“But to what end?” Gray asked.
“Maybethisend,” Seichan called out. She stood several meters farther down the tunnel, having drifted off on her own.
They continued toward her, sensing the press of time. She stood where the passageway ended at a domed chamber.
As Elle approached, the sulfur in the air grew intense, increasing with each step. It burned her eyes and nostrils. She coughed harshly, as her body struggled to clear her lungs.
