Carter nodded. “I can use the equipment here to verify it, but I’d say the odds are good that these hybrids originated in North America.”
“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” Pierce said.
Gallo felt as if scales had fallen from her eyes. “I know where it is. In the Heracleia, it says that Herakles found the Underworld ‘in a burning land, with poisonous air, at the center of a lake of fire.’”
“That’s pretty typical imagery for the Land of the Dead,” Pierce countered.
Gallo shook her head. “That was where he found the entrance. Before he went into the Underworld. Ancient historians tried to pinpoint its location from the stories. The Greeks believed it was in a cave at Cape Matapan, but that doesn’t fit the physical description. A much better candidate is Mount Chimaera in Lycia—modern-day Turkey—because it’s a very geologically active location with burning methane pockets that erupt from the ground. But those were just educated guesses based on their limited knowledge of the world. They didn’t know the Americas even existed.
“There’s a place in North America that matches that description. It’s one of the most geologically active places in the world. The Yellowstone caldera.”
“Yellowstone,” Pierce echoed. His tone was more thoughtful than disbelieving.
“Of course,” Kenner exclaimed. “It’s a perfect fit.”
Gallo shot him a withering look. “No one asked you.
Kenner ignored her. “But that’s still a lot of ground to cover.”
Pierce looked up. “No, it isn’t.” He turned to Gallo, a hungry gleam in his eyes. “We’re not looking for the entrance to the Underworld. Tyndareus is, and he’s the one who’s got his work cut out for him. We’re looking for Fiona, and now we know where she is, assuming that she reached the same conclusion you did.
“He’s got her. We’re going to get her back.” He looked around the gathering, as if daring anyone to question his decision. No one did. His gaze settled on the SS uniform in the display. “We’re done here.”
46
Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, USA
For as long as she could remember, Yellowstone National Park had been one of those places that Fiona knew she would have to visit someday. If she had been a little older, she might have called it a ‘bucket list’ item.
Guess I’ll get to cross it off before I die, she thought.
Her knowledge of the park was piecemeal. She knew about the grizzly bears that roamed the forest, and knew that you weren’t supposed to feed them. She knew about the geysers, especially Old Faithful, which spewed superheated steam on a schedule you could set your watch by, though she also recalled hearing that it wasn’t as ‘faithful’ as it once had been. She knew that scientists were worried about a super-volcano underneath the park, a gigantic underground bubble of magma, which in addition to boiling the water for the geysers, was also going to erupt any day and bury half the United States in ash—or maybe it wouldn’t happen for a hundred thousand years. All of these things were interesting to her, but there were a lot of places in the world that she wanted to visit, and she knew she would get there eventually. Yellowstone was practically in her back yard, after all.
But this was not how she wanted to see it.
When she had identified a particular set of Phaistos symbols on the map’s border, which combined to form the phrase ‘the land of the god ruling the dead,’ and crossed at a point near the center of the ancient depiction of North America, she did not immediately grasp that the spot fell within the boundaries of the world’s first national park. Midwestern geography had never been her strong suit.
But Tyndareus had known exactly where it was without needing to consult a more current map. “Yes. That is the place. We shall leave immediately.”
Within the hour, the old man, along with his entire staff, including Nurse Wretched, had loaded up and headed out. Fiona had been blindfolded for the drive, so she had no idea where they had left from. When the blindfold was removed, she found herself in the passenger cabin of a medium-sized jet. It was larger than the Herculean Society’s Gulfstream, with rows of seats like a regular commercial airliner, but she and the Cerberus team were the only passengers. Tyndareus had evidently chartered a plane to take them to their destination, which explained how they had been able to avoid airport security and nagging questions about the identity of a blindfolded hostage.