James Rollins - Map of Bones

“A fourth Magi?” Gray asked.

“A figure representative of the lost knowledge of the alchemists.” Vigor nodded, raising his head. “The second stanza’s message hints that the Magi bones can be used to find this fourth Magi. Whoever he may be.”

Rachel shook her head, drawing both Gray and Vigor’s attention. “Don’t forget this clue is buried in a crypt. I bet it’s not the fourth Magi that we’re supposed to find, but his tomb . One set of bones used to find another. Possibly another cache of amalgam.”

“Or something even greater. That would certainly excite the Dragon Court.”

“But how can the Magi bones help find this lost tomb?” Monk asked.

Gray headed back to the Crypt of Lucina. “The answer has to be in the thirds tanza.”

PAINTER CROWE woke to a knock on his door. He had fallen asleep in his chair, tilted back. Damn ergonomics…

He cleared the sleep from his throat. “Come in.”

Logan Gregory entered. His hair was wet and he wore a fresh shirt and jacket. It looked like he’d just come in for the day, rather than being here 24/7.

Logan must have noted his attention and ran a hand down his starched shirt. “I went down to the gym for a run. I keep a second set of clothes in my locker.”

Painter had no reply, flabbergasted. Youth. He didn’t think he could climb out of his chair, let alone run a few miles. But then again, Logan was only five years his junior. Painter knew it was stress more than age that weighed him down.

“Sir,” Logan continued, “I received word from General Rende, our liaison with the Carabinieri Corps in Rome. Commander Pierce and the others have gone to ground again.”

Painter leaned forward. “Another attack? They were supposed to be at the Vatican by now.”

“No, sir. After your call to them, they waved off the Carabinieri escort and took off on their own. General Rende wanted to know what was relayed to them. His field operative, Lieutenant Rachel Verona, informed him that you passed on some bit of intel. General Rende was not happy to be kept out of the loop.”

“And what did you tell him?”

Logan raised both eyebrows. “Nothing, sir. That is official Sigma policy, is it not? We know nothing.”

Painter smiled. It sometimes felt that way.

“What about Commander Pierce, sir? What do you want to do next? Should we post an alert?”

Painter remembered Sean McKnight’s earlier admonishment. Trust your agents. “We’ll wait for his next call. There’s no evidence of foul play. We’ll give him room to run his own game.”

Logan did not seem satisfied with this answer. “What do you want me to do then?”

“I suggest, Logan, that you get some rest. I imagine that when Commander Pierce gets going, we’re going to get very little sleep over here.”

“Yes, sir.” He headed for the door.

Painter leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with his arm. Damn, but this chair was comfortable. He drifted away, but something troubled him, keeping him from sleep. Something nagged. Something Gray had said. Not trusting Sigma. A leak.

Could it be?

There was only one person besides himself with full intel on this operation up until now. Not even Sean McKnight knew everything. He slowly tilted forward, eyes open.

It couldn’t be.

BACK AT the Crypt of Lucina, Gray stood by the second fresco with the fish. They needed to solve this third riddle.

Monk asked a good question. “Why didn’t the Dragon Court just fire-bomb the hell out of these catacombs? Why leave them for others to find?”

Rachel stood next to him. “With the forged copy of the Book of the Dead still in the Court’s possession, what would they have to fear? If Seichan hadn’t stolen the riddle map, nobody would know to look here.”

Kat added, “Maybe the Court wasn’t so sure of their interpretation. Maybe they wanted this story in stone to be kept intact until they were certain they had the correct translation.”

Gray weighed this, sensing a greater press of time. He turned back to the fresco. “Then let’s see what they found. The third stanza has the fish waiting for water. Like the first fish, I think we’re supposed to follow where it’s facing.”

Gray motioned to a different gallery branching off from the crypt. The second fish pointed that way.

But Vigor continued his study of the two fishes, looking at one and then the other, mirror images. “Twins,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?”

Vigor waved a hand between the two fish. “Whoever devised this game of riddles loved to layer it with symbolism. Choosing these two fish. Nearly identical in appearance. Referring to the second fish as ‘twin’ cannot be insignificant.”

“I don’t see the connection,” Gray said.

“You just don’t know your Greek, Commander.”

Gray frowned.

Monk, surprisingly enough, chimed in, proving his Greek heritage extended beyond a fondness for ouzo and bad dancing. “‘Twin’ translates to didymus .”

“Very good,” Vigor said. “And in Hebrew, ‘twin’ translates to Thomas . As in Didymus Thomas. One of the twelve apostles.”

Gray remembered the discussion at Lake Como with the monsignor. “Thomas was the apostle in conflict with John.”

“And the one who baptized the Magi,” Vigor reminded them. “Thomas represented Gnostic belief. I think using the word twin here is a tribute back to the Gospel of Thomas. By acknowledging Thomas, I wonder if these alchemists might not have been Thomas Christians themselves…churchgoers who followed Rome but still continued their Gnostic practices in secret. There were always whispers of such a church within the Church. A Thomas Church hiding within and alongside the canonical Church. This may be the proof.”

Gray heard the growing excitement in the other’s voice.

“Perhaps this society of alchemists, which traced its roots to Moses and Egypt, merged with the Catholic Church. Continued forward in history wearing the cross and bending a knee to the Church, finding common ground with those who held sacred the secret Gospel of Thomas.”

“Hiding in plain sight,” Monk said.

Vigor nodded.

Gray followed this line of logic. It might be worth pursuing, but for now, they had another riddle to solve. He pointed down the gallery. “Whoever left these clues, they left us a third challenge.”

The Twin waits for water…

Gray led the way down the new gallery. He searched for some fresco with water in it. He passed various biblical scenes, but none depicting water. There was a painting of a family gathered around a table, but it looked like wine was being served. Next there was a fresco with four male figures lifting their arms to heaven. None of them held a flask of water.

Vigor called behind him. He turned.

The others were gathered by one niche. He went back to them. He had searched that one already. It showed a man in a robe striking a stone with a stick. Not a drop of water.

“This is an illustration of Moses in the desert,” Vigor said.

Gray waited for elaboration.

“According to the Bible, he struck a rock in the desert and a fresh spring burst forth to quench the thirst of the fleeing Israelites.”

“Like our old fish back there,” Monk said.

“This must be the fresco indicated by the stanza,” Vigor said. “Remember, Moses knew about manna and these miraculous white powders. It would be appropriate to acknowledge him.”

“So what clue does this crumbling painting hold?” Gray asked.