Matt took over. “The island, Pharos, is just a barren rock now with a lot of debris below the water – there’s nothing there at all.” He folded his arms and paced. “I’ve been there, seen it. It’s empty, picked clean – little more than an interesting destination for diving enthusiasts.”

“And the reason it’s empty is what’s left is all below the water.” Tania grabbed him as he went to pace by. “Think about it, Matt; what if what we seek is not on the island, but somewhere below it…or inside it?”

“But what’s below the water is mostly rubble,” Matt said. “And the place is crawling with tourists. It’s not exactly hidden in the center of the Amazonian jungle.”

“If I may, Professor.” Albadi gave another small bow as he interrupted. “Maybe they just don’t know where to look…or maybe, if there is an entrance, there are only certain times that it becomes apparent.”

Andy clicked his fingers. “Like at certain times of the day…when the sun is just at the right angle. There’s this huge rock in Australia that looks like it can change shape and colors, depending on time of day. Also some crystalline deposits can reflect light, like halogens, but only for a few minutes a day, and only during certain times of the year.”

Matt spun and pointed at him. “Bingo.” He grinned. “That’s it. And now imagine the effect if the moon was amplified by the celestial convergence.” He clapped once. “It might only be open at night, during the three days of the full moon.”

“Night dive, anyone?” Andy said.

“We’ve got to get there, pronto,” Matt said to Abrams.

“Agreed. We need to find that book.” Abrams exhaled. “Doctor, we can’t use the airport in Syria, and looks like our ride hightailed it. We also can’t get a chopper in, with all the militants on the ground with stinger missiles. Our fallback is to cross into Turkey; can you take us?”

Albadi shook his head. “No.”

Abrams’s eyes became sharp. “Well sir, can you arrange for us to be taken there, as our driver took off like his ass was on fire the moment we stepped out of his van?”

Again Albadi shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, for fu–” Abrams ground his teeth, his face turning red. He spun away from the Syrian, and then leaned close to Matt. “Talk to him before I shoot him.”

Matt turned to the Doctor, but Albadi must have already anticipated him, and waved him away.

“Major Abrams, it is nothing to do with my cowardice, or bravery, or even trying to extort your money.” He waved an arm around in his library. “I have all the riches for a dozen lifetimes. But whether you know it or not, we are in a war zone. Above us, in the air, you have government planes with orders to shoot down anything that isn’t personally authorized by the President. On the ground, you have too many militias and factions to count or try and negotiate with. In every second house is an informer. Major, you cannot go by road, you cannot fly, you cannot travel by any standard route and chance being seen by the population. You must cross the desert.” Albadi stood beside an old map, gently running fingertips over the images of skulls and djinn…and the warnings. “And even then, it is not a good place now.”