The Lost Island

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Authors: Douglas Preston
Tags: thriller, Mystery
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barely more than a rock, containing two twisted trees that looked like horns. A deft series of keystrokes magnified the image on the screen.
    “The attached inscription says: Perge ad orientem insula Diaboli, tunc pete meridiem. That is: ‘Seek the east side of the island of the Devil, and then go south.’”
    “That’s pretty vague,” said Gideon.
    “Indeed,” said Brock. “Particularly when you consider those two trees are surely long gone. Here’s another example, which we’ve labeled clue five.” He indicated a second tiny drawing, which showed a passageway between two bodies of land, a sort of strait, one with a split rock on one shore that vaguely resembled a cross. “The legend for this image says: ‘Your path is through the strait of the cross.’ That’s it. No compass rose, no indication of distance. Note, however, that there are a total of exactly nine images, or clues.”
    Gideon squinted at the map. “I’ve got to admit the draftsmanship is amazing.”
    “The Irish monks were geniuses at the art of miniaturization. Most of the work was done with single-haired brushes.”
    “So where is this mysterious island located, exactly?” Gideon asked.
    “Ah! The million-dollar question…” Brock paused, his green eyes goggling. “And the answer would appear to be: somewhere in the Caribbean.”
    “Caribbean? How do you know?”
    “I’ve already identified with some certainty the third landmark in the map, here. Columpnas Herculis transiens —the Pillars of Hercules. That was the universal name in the ancient world for the Strait of Gibraltar. Unfortunately, most of the other landmarks seem to be obscure, quixotic, and deliberately misleading.”
    “Why ‘deliberately’?”
    “Because it says it right here: ‘Only those favored by God may follow this map.’ The monks would have made it difficult to follow, to ensure that only those whom God helped could do so. The rest would perish.”
    Glinn interjected. “Dr. Brock’s begun feeding the details into the large geographic database we maintain here at EES.”
    “But what makes you think they reached the Caribbean?”
    “Because from the Cape Verde Islands, where according to the Annales the monks were shipwrecked and had to rebuild their ships, the Canaries Current heads south and southwesterly along the African coast, where it turns west and becomes the Northern Equatorial Current. The trades blow steadily with the current. Our computer models already indicate that the two combined would have taken the monks along the precise route Columbus followed on his third voyage. That would have carried them straight into the Caribbean.”
    Glinn pointed at the screen. “As evidence, all these little islands in this part of the map could only be located in the Caribbean.”
    “I’ve also identified the starting point,” said Brock.
    “Isn’t he a marvel?” Glinn said with evident pride.
    Brock shrugged this off. “It’s here, in what would be the eastern Aegean Sea.” He zoomed in on the first picture at the top left of the map, showing four hills in profile, along with a tiny, stylized drawing of a horse.
    “ Ibi est initium ,” said Brock, reading the accompanying Latin inscription. “‘There is the beginning.’ The four hills are a well-known landmark on the coast of Turkey.”
    “And the horse?”
    “No idea why there is a horse—not yet, that is.”
    Gideon’s eye wandered along the route. “What about that inscription at the end?”
    “I was just getting to that,” said Brock. “First of all, we can see the phrase Hic sunt gigantes : ‘Here there be giants.’ And then: Respondeo ad quaestionem, ipsa pergamena .”
    “Which means?”
    “It would appear to be a riddle,” said Brock. “It literally means: ‘I, the very page, answer the question.’”
    “And what is the question?” asked Gideon.
    “Yes, indeed, that itself is a mystery. I would say the question would be: What is the nature of this cure? Is it

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