Laurent stared around the room. “Are you familiar with the story of Jerusalem’s Second Temple, the most holy site of the Jewish people?”
Sharyn knew some of its history, but Naomi was far better versed from her own studies. Her friend’s eyes narrowed, as if she already suspected where this was leading.
“The temple was destroyed in AD 70.” Naomi picked up her iPad and tapped at its screen. “By the Roman general Titus who ransacked the temple, then his soldiers set it on fire. But not before his army stole many of the temple’s most sacred relics and hauled them to Italy.”
“What did they take?” Tag asked.
“Everything they could get their grubby hands on.” Naomi slid her iPad to the center of the table for all to see. “Butthiswas the most significant artifact, something of inestimable value. An object as revered and important as the Ark of the Covenant.”
Sharyn leaned over to view the image on the iPad. It was a carving in stone, etched deeply and scarred by age, of a group of men holding aloft a large menorah.
Naomi continued. “The bas relief depicts the raid, memorialized in the Arch of Titus, which can still be seen in Rome. It shows the parade of the temple’s golden menorah—the most holy relic of Judaism—across the city.”
“What became of it?” Tag asked, wheezing a bit and taking a blast from his inhaler.
Naomi glared accusingly at Laurent. “It vanished into history. Around AD 410, or maybe AD 455. Following the sacking of Rome by the Visigoths, then the Vandals. Some believe the invaders melted it down or lost it at sea. Others say it was tossed into the Tiber River to protect it from those raiders. Then there are those who claim it’s still somewhere in the Vatican.”
Sharyn turned to Laurent. “Is that what’s hidden in the Alps, thetruelocation of the menorah?”
Laurent remained silent for a breath. “That would be enough, of course. But what lies out there is far greater. It ties directly to what was described in the Biblical Book of Kings. In fact, Saint-Germain quotes from that text, where King Solomon ordered the sculpting of not justonegolden menorah, but many. Ten or eleven in total.”
Sharyn felt a chill pass through her.
Laurent gave their group a stern look. “Saint-Germain claimssevenof the original Solomonic menorahs are hidden out there, including the most sacred of them all. There are also golden incense burners and trumpets. Along with a monumental gold stand, the original Table of Showbread from the Holy Temple.”
Sharyn took a deep breath at this revelation, beginning to understand Laurent’s haste to secure such a find.
It’s beyond priceless.
Still, Laurent hung a price tag on it. “From the dimensions and measurements recorded in the Bible, theGardiensestimate the value in gold alone to be upwards of three hundred million.”
Silence settled over the room, weighted down by this revelation.
Duncan finally broke the stillness with a gasp. He had never stopped working through all of this. Only now, he stumbled away from the computer and raised his hands. “I... I don’t know what I just did.”
Sharyn shifted closer, as did the others. Only Tag remained seated, clearly having reached his limit.
“What is it?” Laurent pressed Duncan.
He pointed at the computer. “Look! It’s just started doing this, like the AI program took over on its own.”
On the screen, Saint-Germain’s book lay splayed open, rotating gently in place. Like smoke rising from a fire, a cloud of grayscale pixelation formed above the pages. As they watched, the haze distilled down and formed a three-dimensional image of a pyramidal peak, which slowly spun with the book.
Duncan turned to Laurent. “Could this be the answer?”
Along one flank of the mountain, a small blip blinked steadily from the shadowy outline, appearing and disappearing as the image revolved.
“Possibly...” Laurent murmured, his voice tremulous, then firming up with conviction. “It must be it.”
Sharyn peered closer. “You said you had already identified all the peaks sketched by Saint-Germain. Do you know which one this is?”
“I should . . . I do.”
He reached to the table and picked up Naomi’s iPad. He pecked vigorously at it, mumbling under his breath. Finally, he nodded and showed them a topographical map of northern Italy, where it bordered Austria. A red triangle marked a location in a deeply mountainous terrain.
“It’s Monte Antelao. The highest peak in the eastern Dolomites—which is what the Alps are called in this region of Italy. In fact, this mountain has been dubbed the King of the Dolomites.”
Duncan looked at the spinning image on the screen with a mix of fear and doubt. “But can we besurethis is the right place? Could such a massive treasure be hidden there?”
