“I don’t know how that helps us, Doctor.” Abrams looked briefly at his watch.

Albadi smiled. “It helps because the copy of the Al Azif I have infers that the original work is held within the great Bibliotheca…on the island of the Pharoes.”

Abrams just stared, deadpan.

“Its impossible.” Matt frowned. “The Al Azif was written in 738 AD, and the library was supposed to have been destroyed centuries before that.”

Albadi said, “Exactly, and perhaps why it escaped destruction and remains hidden. I think that the library was moved again. To the scholars at the time, the works would have been more valuable than gold. They would have had an almost religious value. The scholars would have died before they let the entire library be destroyed again. Somewhere in Egypt, on this island of the Pharaohs, the great library still exists.”

“Then the library it is.” Abrams turned to Matt and then Tania, who had just pushed back into the room and was drying her hands on her pants. “Do either of you guys know the location of this island of the Pharaohs?” he asked.

Tania folded her arms. “Never heard of it.”

Matt’s brows were still creased. “I know a lot about the ancient Middle East, but I’ve also never heard of any reference to an island of the Pharaohs. Still, it sounds vaguely familiar. Dr Albadi, can I see the references to this library?”

Albadi nodded, and turned some pages, coming to one and running his finger down the archaic script. “Here.”

Matt nodded as he read, and after a minute he paused. “Ha, of course.” He began to smile. “Doctor, you were right and wrong at the same time. Yes, it’s still in Alexandria, which makes sense. But it’s not the island of the Pharaohs, but it’s actually the Island of Pharos.”

Albadi smacked his forehead. “Of course, the inflection on the noun.” He bowed. “Your skill is truly impressive, Professor Kearns.”

“Pharos?” Andy came and looked over Matt’s shoulder. “Does that help us?”

“Pharos, why not?” Tania grinned. “It makes sense to move it to, and perhaps hide it in, the greatest structure of the ancient world…perhaps even as great as the pyramids themselves. It’s where the Ptolemaic built the Lighthouse of Alexandria.” Seeing their more or less blank faces, she went on. “Look, back then, most dwellings were single story, and very few were ever over fifty feet tall, so imagine a structure of stone standing nearly four hundred feet high, fully encased in pure white marble. At its top, a giant golden statue of Poseidon, and between his legs, a large bonfire was kept burning at night with a huge polished mirror to guide the ships into the harbor.”

She sighed. “But, I’m afraid, it’s something else that was destroyed. Though it did endure longer than the Library of Alexandria. It survived over a thousand years of earthquakes.”

Albadi bowed again. “You too amaze me, Miss Kovitz.”

“Captain,” she said, and he bowed an apology she waved away. “It’s gone now, of course. It was a fort for a while in the fourteenth century – those earthquakes had eroded it quite a bit.”