The Lost Island

34

Is that the one where this guy who’s really lost ends up in a cave with a hot enchantress?” said Gideon.

“Very funny. I’ll tell you what I’ve found, but first, let’s build a fire, dry out our clothes, and try to bring a little comfort and civilization to this god-awful place. Then we can talk.”

Half an hour later, they were both sitting in the sand by a small fire. The sun had set in a glory of vermilion, and the stars were coming up in the sky. A breeze rustled the leaves of the palm trees above them.

There was something rather glorious, Gideon decided, in simply feeling dry. “All right,” he said. “Let’s hear it. And it had better be good.”

Amy began by declaiming something in a language unknown to Gideon.

“What is that?” he said. “Are you still gargling salt water?”

“It’s ancient Greek.”

“Sorry, but my ancient Greek is a little rusty.”

“I just wanted you to hear the sound of it. It’s the most beautiful language in the world — and I don’t just say that because I was a classics major. You can’t truly appreciate Homer in English. ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ Πλάγχθη. ‘Sing to me of the man, O muse, that wily hero who traveled far and wide’—Sorry, the English just doesn’t cut it.”

Gideon shook his head. “Here we are, lost on an unknown coast, and you’re quoting Homer.”

“There’s a point to all this.” She tapped the damp pages of the printout.

“Which is?”

“Let me start at the beginning, so you can understand my reasoning. We already know the Phorkys Map was based on an earlier Greek map. Glinn said as much. That map was discovered by the monks of Iona, among their stores of old vellum.”

Gideon nodded.

“Which means that the Greeks got here first. The Greeks ‘discovered’ the New World.”

“Glinn told us that, too.”

“But that begs an obvious question: Who was the Greek Columbus? And how did he get here?”

Gideon waited.

“In 1200 BC, the Greeks laid siege to the city of Troy — the famous Trojan War. Which they won, of course, by tricking the Trojans with the hollow horse filled with Greek warriors.”

“Beware of Greeks bearing gifts and all that.”

“Exactly. Now let’s turn to the Phorkys Map.” She flipped the pages of their briefing book, with each clue enlarged. “Here it is, the first clue. Ibi est initium, it reads. And look at the little drawing of a horse. Remember? That was the clue old Brock back at EES couldn’t figure out. And it says: ‘There is the beginning.’ The beginning of what?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Gideon said.

“Of the voyage of Odysseus.”

“The voyage of…” Gideon stopped. “Are you saying that the Odyssey should be taken literally? I don’t know what’s crazier — that, or the idea that he traveled all the way to the New World.”

“It isn’t crazy. And I’m not the first to propose it. A group of dissident Homer scholars have argued precisely this point for years. They’ve been ridiculed and marginalized.”

“With good reason,” said Gideon.

“Because they didn’t have the proof we now possess — thanks to your theft of that page from the Book of Kells.” Amy’s voice was low, quiet, but full of conviction. “I’ve been comparing the Phorkys Map with the Odyssey. It all fits. After the defeat of Troy — using a wooden horse, recall — Odysseus and his men left in six ships. They were caught in two incredibly violent storms: one that drove them westward for three days, and another for nine days. It’s obvious to me now that he was driven, first across the Mediterranean, and then across the Atlantic — all the way into the Caribbean. That’s how the Greeks discovered the New World. And that, in turn, is how the Phorkys Map was created. It was based on the earlier Greek map of Odysseus’s voyage. That’s the map the monks found among their old stores of vellum. And that is how the monks of Iona were able to reach the New World. Odysseus was the Greek Columbus.”

“If you hadn’t been a classics major yourself, you’d never have dreamed this up. It’s totally far-fetched.”

“No, it isn’t. It took Odysseus ten years to get home. All those islands he visited, all those adventures he had — they all took place here, in the Caribbean. The key text is right there.” She flipped through the printout. “This is from Book Nine of the Odyssey. I’ll translate as I go along.”

A deadly current and howling winds forced us westward, past Cythera. For nine days we were helplessly driven over the deepest ocean. On the tenth day we reached the land of the Lotus Eaters, people who eat a delicious fruit, which is said to give health and heal all manner of infirmities, but at the expense of mind and memory. On that desolate coastline we found water and ate a hasty meal. Once we’d eaten and drank I sent some of my men ahead, two soldiers and a runner, to see who might live there. They left immediately for the north and found the Lotus Eaters, who accepted them in peace and gave them the lotus to eat. Those who ate of it were healed of their wounds of war, but forgot all about home and their companions, and did not care to return to the ships or even send back a message. All they wanted was to stay with the Lotus Eaters and eat the sweet fruit, lost in their dreams, forgetting everything. They wept bitterly when I forced them to come back with me. I had to lash them to the rowing benches.

Amy lowered the printout. “Most scholars think Cythera was an island off the Greek mainland. But here’s the catch: Cythera was also an ancient name for the Straits of Gibraltar. In other words, they were blown past Cythera into the Atlantic — the ‘deepest ocean.’ From there they were driven nine days westward, carried by high winds and currents.”

“Nine days to cross the Atlantic?”

“The main route of tropical storms goes southwestward from the Cape Verde Islands straight across into the Caribbean. In such a storm, he would have been driven along by the effects of wind, reinforced by the powerful Main Equatorial Current. This is exactly the route mariners took in times past. In reasonably favorable winds they could make the crossing in twenty days. There are many instances of ships caught in storms making the crossing in as little as a week — if they survived.”

Gideon fell silent. He felt skeptical — and annoyed. “So you strand us here on this desolate shore, refuse help, place us both in jeopardy — just to prove this ridiculous theory of yours.”

Amy sighed with impatience. “Haven’t you been listening? If Odysseus had been pushed across the Atlantic in a storm, his ships would have been subsequently caught in the Caribbean Loop Current, which connects to the Main Equatorial Current. And that would have brought him right here.” She hesitated. “That’s the research I was doing on the boat before we were attacked.”

“Why did you keep it such a big secret?”

“Because I was afraid of exactly the negative reaction I’m getting from you now.”

Gideon shook his head. It all seemed so speculative. He couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“There’s something else in the Odyssey—something you might find more persuasive.” She read again from the printout: “‘. . . a delicious fruit, which is said to give health and heal all manner of infirmities, but at the expense of mind and memory.’ What does that remind you of?”

“I suppose it could be a reference to the medicine we’re looking for.”

“Of course. Can you imagine a clearer description of the remedium Glinn has sent us searching for?”

Gideon stared into the fire, thinking. He was beginning to feel weary again — too weary to be angry. If this were all true, it could be further proof the medicine was real…and might actually help him. Immediately he was seized with the foolishness of this line of thought and pushed it out of his head. He had to stop dwelling on this false hope, which would only bring him disappointment and grief.

“Consider the Phorkys Map. ‘Follow the Devil’s vomit.’ We’ve done exactly that. The spume trail leading out from Jeyupsi Cay naturally followed the Loop Current, which fetched us right up here. This is precisely where we’re meant to be — right where the next clue is. Right where Odysseus and his men landed three thousand years ago.”

Gideon tossed a stick into the fire. “When did this first occur to you?”

“I was familiar with the speculations of the dissident scholars. When I heard Glinn’s theory about the Greeks reaching the Caribbean, when I saw the Phorkys Map, I began to recall certain passages from the Odyssey. That’s when I began my research in earnest.”

For a moment Gideon was silent. Then he shifted before the fire. “I’m not saying I buy into any of this. But for the time being, it looks as if I have to go along. So what next?”

“Aquilonius. The unusual Latin term for ‘northerly.’ Which is where we must head to find the next clue — the very last clue. We’re almost there.”

“What is that clue?”

She pointed to the page. The drawing on the map showed a partially twisted rectangle without a bottom. The Latin inscription read: Trans ultra tortuosum locum.

“Tortuosum locum. Twisted place. Trans ultra. Beyond the beyond. That’s what we’re looking for, ‘beyond the beyond of the twisted place.’ Which should be a little north of here. And—” Her eyes glittered in the dying light—“when we get there, we’ll be in the land of the Lotus Eaters.”