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 hasever 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 timelongbefore the ancient Greeks, the ones who named Hyperborea and wrote accounts of its inhabitants.”
Yelagin sighed. “Still,somethingkeeps 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 polardaycould 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!”
9:58A.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.
