“Which raises the question of what happened to that relic,” Trout said.

Gamay picked up the metal box. “Maybe we should ask Mr. Jefferson.”

Saxon had been holding the vellum squares. He held them up for a better look at the markings and said, “This is interesting. I believe the map is a palimpsest.”

“A palim what?” Trout said.

“It’s a term for vellum that has been used more than once,” Saxon said. “Byzantine monks perfected the practice of washing and scraping writing from vellum so it could be used again, but the process could be much older. See there, when you hold it to the light, faint writing is visible.”

He passed the vellum around for the others to examine.

“Too bad we can’t retrieve the original message,” Trout said.

“Maybe we can,” Saxon said. “The curators at the WaltersArt Museum in Baltimore recently deciphered a thousand-year-old message that had been hidden in a palimpsest. They may be able to do something with this. I wish Austin were here to share these wonderful discoveries. When will he be back from his errand?”

Zavala had been thinking about Austin even in the subterranean depths of the lake. Austin was a survivor, but by allowing himself to be kidnapped by the ruthless Baltazar, he was jumping into the abyss. As he got to his feet and prepared to collect his dive gear, he said, “Soon. Damn soon, I hope.”

NUMA 7 - The Navigator

Chapter 50

AUSTIN AND FLAGG SAT IN the Bentley with the motor running, eyeing the entrance to Baltazar’s estate.

“I thought you said these folks were unfriendly,” Flagg said. “Looks like they’re expecting us.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Austin said.

They had spent the last hour trying to find another way into Baltazar’s estate but encountered heavy woods and electrified fence. They got lost in the maze of dirt roads around the property and found themselves back at the main gate. It was wide-open.

Austin leaned on the steering wheel. “This must be what goes through a lobster’s mind before he crawls into the trap. Carina’s my friend, not yours. We can still wait for reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements will just get in the way,” Flagg scoffed. He produced a third pistol. “Go slow. I’ll watch the bushes for redskins.”

Austin put the car into gear and drove through the gates. Flagg sat up on the back of the seat with a gun in each hand. No one tried to stop them. The road broke out of the woods, and Austin headed for the jousting field. The tents had all been leveled. The fabric was ripped and covered with tire tracks. The reviewing stand was unchanged, except for an added feature.

As they neared the stand, Flagg tensed. “What the hell is that?”

A human figure was hanging from the front of the stand, its chin touching its chest. Arms and legs dangled loosely.