James Rollins - Map of Bones

Gray took a deep swallow. What was I saying ?

“Where are we going?” Kat prompted him.

“To find the next clue on this journey,” Gray said, clearing his throat, tightening his voice. “After what we saw this evening, do we want the Dragon Court to gain whatever knowledge lies at the end of this treasure hunt?”

No one argued.

Monk picked at his bandage. “What the hell did happen tonight?”

“I may have some idea.” Gray’s words drew all their full attention. “Is anyone familiar with Meissner fields?”

Kat raised a hand halfway. “I’ve heard that term used in reference to superconductors.”

Gray nodded. “When a charged superconductor is exposed to a strong electromagnetic field, a Meissner field develops. The strength of this field is proportional to the intensity of the magnetic field and the amount of power in the superconductor. It is a Meissner field that allows superconductors to levitate in a magnetic field. But other, stranger effects have been seen when manipulating superconductors, postulating other effects from Meissner fields. Inexplicable energy bursts, true antigravity, even distortions in space.”

“Is that what happened in the basilica?” Vigor asked.

“The activation of the amalgam, both here and in Cologne, was accomplished with nothing more than a pair of large electromagnetic plates.”

“Big magnets?” Monk asked.

“Tuned to a specific energy signature to release the power laying dormant in the m-state superconductor.”

Kat stirred. “And the released energy — this Meissner field — levitated the tomb…or at least made it weigh less. But what about the electrical storm inside the basilica?”

“I can only guess. The bronze and gold canopy over the papal altar lies directly above Saint Peter’s tomb. I think the metal columns of the canopy acted like giant lightning rods. They siphoned some of the energy given off below and blasted it upward.”

“But why would these ancient alchemists want to harm the basilica?” Rachel asked.

“They wouldn’t,” Vigor answered. “They didn’t. Remember, we estimated that these clues were laid sometime during the thirteenth century.”

Gray nodded.

Vigor paused, then rubbed his beard. “In fact, it would’ve been easy to construct the secret chamber during that same time period. The Vatican was mostly empty. It did not become the seat of papal power until 1377, when the popes returned from their century-long exile in France. Prior to that, the Lateran Palace in Rome had been the papal seat. So the Vatican was unimportant and unwatched during the thirteenth century.”

Vigor turned to Rachel. “So the electrical storm could not be the alchemists’ fault. Bernini’s baldacchino wasn’t installed until the 1600s. Centuries after the clues had been laid here. The storm had to be an unfortunate accident.”

“Unlike what happened in Cologne,” Gray countered. “The Dragon Court purposefully tainted those Communion wafers with m-state gold. I think they used the parishioners as guinea pigs in some vile experiment. Their first field test. To judge the strength of the amalgam, to validate their theories. The ingested m-state gold acted like the bronze canopy here. It absorbed the energy of the Meissner field, electrocuting the parishioners from the inside out.”

“All those deaths,” Rachel said.

“Nothing more than an experiment.”

“We must stop them,” Vigor asserted, his voice brittle.

Gray nodded. “But first we have to figure out where to go next. I memorized the drawing. I can sketch it out.”

Rachel glanced to him, then to her uncle.

“What?” Gray asked.

Vigor shifted and pulled forth a folded piece of paper. He leaned forward and smoothed it on the table. It was a map of Europe.

Gray frowned.

“I recognized the line drawing on the rock,” Rachel said. “The tiny river delta gave it away, especially if you live along the Mediterranean. Watch.”

Rachel leaned forward and made a square box of her fingers, as if she were sizing up a photo shot. She laid it atop the eastern end of the map.

Gray stared down, as did the others. The enclosed section of the coastline was a rough match to the etched line drawing on the hematite slab.

“It’s a map,” he said.

“And the glowing star…” Rachel met his eyes.

“There must’ve been a tiny deposit of m-state gold imbedded in the slab. It absorbed the Meissner field energy and ignited.”

“Marking a spot on the map.” Rachel placed a finger on the paper.

Gray leaned closer. A city lay at her fingertip, at the mouth of the Nile, where it drained into the Mediterranean.

“Alexandria,” Gray read. “In Egypt.”

He lifted his eyes, his face inches from Rachel’s. Their eyes locked as he looked down upon her. Both froze for a heartbeat. Her lips parted slightly as if she were going to say something but forgot her words.

“The Egyptian city was a major bastion of Gnostic study,” Vigor said, breaking the spell. “Once the home of the famed Library of Alexandria, a vast storehouse of ancient knowledge. Founded by Alexander the Great himself.”

Gray straightened. “Alexander. You mentioned he was one of the historical figures who knew about the white powder of gold.”

Vigor nodded, eyes bright.

“Another magi,” Gray said. “Could he be the fourth Magi we were instructed to seek?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Vigor answered.

“I can,” Rachel replied, her voice certain. “The verse in the riddle…it specifically refers to a lost king .”

Gray remembered the riddle about the fish. Where it drowns, it floats in darkness and stares to the lost king .

“What if it wasn’t just allegorical?” Rachel insisted. “What if it was literal?”

Gray didn’t understand, but Vigor’s eyes widened.

“Of course!” he said. “I should have thought of that.”

“What?” Monk asked.

Rachel explained, “Alexander the Great died at a young age. Thirty-three. His funeral and internment were well documented in the historical record. His body was laid in state in Alexandria.” She tapped the map. “Only…only…”

Vigor finished for her, too excited. “His tomb vanished.”

Gray stared down at the map. “Making him the lost king,” he mumbled. His gaze swept the room. “Then we know where we have to go next.”

THE IMAGE on the laptop played through once again, without sound, video only. From the appearance of the Dragon Court, through the escape of the Sigma team. There continued to be no answers. Whatever lay below in Saint Peter’s tomb remained a mystery.

Disappointed, he closed the laptop and leaned back from his desk.

Commander Pierce had not been entirely forthcoming at the debriefing. His lie had been easy to read. The commander had discovered something in the tomb.

But what had he found? How much did he know?

Cardinal Spera leaned back, twisting the gold ring around his finger.

It was time to end all this.

THEY’D BE in Egypt in two hours.

Aboard the private jet, Gray inventoried his pack. Director Crowe had managed to outfit them with new supplies and weapons. Even laptops. The director had also had the foresight to move their rented Citation X plane down from Germany to Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci International Airport.