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 beliteral,” 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 onlyterrible, but notoriouslygrandiose.”
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, allof 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.
