EPILOGUE
CHEFTU WOKE WITH WAVES WASHING over his legs. The water was brisk and he sat up, shaking his head to clear it. Braced on his elbows, he looked around. The patch of ground he sat on was not big enough to be called an island, and there wasn’t a jot of land anywhere else in sight.
“Chloe?” he called.
The water stirred. Grimacing and groaning, a woman pulled herself onto the islet. “I am thrice damned and beloved of Set,” she cursed.
Cheftu’s blood iced over. The woman in Sibylla’s body looked up. Her brown eyes fixed on him, then narrowed. Her smile broad, her voice seductively sweet, “Haii, Cheftu, we meet again,” she said.
Mon Dieu! RaEmhetepet! Cheftu recoiled, covering himself. If she were here, where was Chloe? He noticed the water was clear, the sky was bright, the ash had vanished. He had traveled. The islet on which they sat was tiny, but not underwater. The lintel was gone. Where had RaEm come from? “How—” He choked on his words. “How did you get here?”
Horrified, RaEm surveyed her new body, the body that had survived the eruption of Aztlan. “I had made love with Phaemon—”
“Phaemon? Phaemon was with you?”
“Aye, the soldier who was my lover.” She licked her cracked lips and shifted her gaze. “The night I was transferred from our Egypt to that hell of the future, I had determined to rid myself of Phaemon. I was full with his child, and the fool thought I would leave Egypt to play wife and mother.” She laughed, and Cheftu forced himself not to wince. How could he have mistaken Chloe for RaEm, even for a heartbeat? “While he was intimately occupied, I struck him.”
“You were coupling with him and you slapped him?”
“Nay. I took a blade to his back.”
“By the gods, RaEm!”
She shrugged. “We fought somewhat, then rolled beneath the archway to HatHor.” Her gaze met his. “Then we began the descent into hell. We fought again when we awoke in the chamber, the same room, many years beyond what we had ever fathomed. I fled, hid in the catacombs beneath the Temple in Karnak. Phaemon recovered.” Again she shrugged. “Eventually we made our peace.”
“How did you get here?”
“I was walking in the desert close to our campsite. I stepped into a hollow beside the monolith and found myself sucked in by a mighty wind, awakening here.’
The wind blew coldly across them, and Cheftu was reminded that it was winter, that they were stranded in the middle of an unsailable sea. No ships would chance crossing the Aegean or Mediterranean before spring. Mon Dieu! He touched the stones tucked in at his waist for reassurance. At least they were safe. Surely it was not his destiny that he die here?
“While I was Chloe I had the appearance of a kheft,” RaEm said. She picked up a fragile piece of hair still attached to her burned scalp. “At least here I am black haired, as a woman should be.”
Cheftu rose to his feet, suddenly trembling and sick to his stomach. RaEm had stepped into Sibylla’s body, where Chloe had been. Sibylla’s spirit had been left in the cave when Chloe had first “arrived.” If Chloe weren’t here, and RaEm was … then was Chloe in her own time? In her own body?
Foam and mist coated him, and he shivered, turning his back on RaEm, looking across the water. The empire that had once stretched from horizon to horizon was gone, the islands all sunk beneath the sea’s waves. “Where are we, Cheftu?” RaEm said. “Why am I here? What happened to this body that my ka now inhabits?”
He quoted Plato: “ ‘There occurred violent earthquakes and floods, and in a single day and night of misfortune the island of Atlantis disappeared into the depths of the sea.’ ”
He ignored RaEm’s complaints, smiling in spite of himself at her language. She spoke in a bizarre mixture of ancient Egyptian and Chloe’s American.
“So where are you, my love?” he whispered to the waves. “What body holds you? What time is now your home? When will I see you?” The words were carried by the wind over the sea. “Remember your vow, Chloe. Together. We will be together, again.”
AUTHOR’S AFTERWORD
ENUMERATING THE DETAILS used in Shadows on the Aegean would fill another book. Essentially, the Aztlantu are a cross between Plato’s Atlantis and what is known of the missing Minoans.
Plato describes Atlantis as a mountainous water-and-earth-ringed island. Volcanologists have concluded that the island of Santorini, pre-1500 B.C.E., was indeed ringed with water and land. What is today a crescent-shaped bay was then a shallow lagoon. Excavations at Akrotiri (Prostatevo) show us multilevel dwellings made from the black-, red-, and saffron-colored stone found on the island. Plato speaks of hot and cold running water, a geologic possibility in a volcanic environment. Excavations show pipes and sewer systems within Minoan enclaves.
From whence did these Minoans come? As suggested by my imagination, they are descendants of one of Noah’s grandsons. I was startled to unearth a theory that agreed with my fictional premise. A Byzantine cartographer, Cosmos Indicopleustes, suggested that Noah was Atlantis’s founding father. The ancient known world has been divided by the tribes who descended from these biblical characters. Javan (Iavan), son of Japheth, son of Noah, historically populated the eastern Mediterranean islands of Crete and Greece. Cosmos thought that Plato’s account of Atlantis was originally Mosaic tradition. He suggested that Atlantis was the land of the ten generations of Noah and was in the east. Followers of this theory from the 1570s misread Atlantis into the Pentateuch as a part of biblical history.
The Urim and Thummim are virtually unresearchable, except through legend and the Book of Mormon. In a story preceding Moses, this was no help. However, I wanted to place Aztlan in a historical context, so I turned to Egypt. Recent Egyptological studies reveal that Joseph may have lived in the same time period that I placed Atlantis. These same studies show that a long period of famine did indeed take place during the reign of Senwosret III, and that it was caused by exceptionally high inundations. In a country as gingerly ecologically balanced as Egypt, a few inches’ difference in the flood level can spell disaster.
The reign of Senwosret/Joseph coincided with a time in Crete/Santorini when palaces were destroyed—a time when the volcano was starting its preeruption show and we have very few facts. A perfect placement for Atlantis and nearly nine hundred years before classical Greece.
The Phaistos disk is on exhibit in the Heraklion Crete Museum. As of this writing it is undecipherable. However, it bears striking similarities to an astrological chart of Crete from late summer to early spring.
Prion diseases—including kuru, mad cow disease, Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease, and other spongiform encephalopathies—are frightening and true. All the symptoms portrayed in Shadows are accurate, based on medical journals and books. In the fall of 1997, Stanley Prusiner, who gave the prion its name, received the Nobel Prize.
The Clan Olimpi was the pantheon of Mount Olympus, loosely disguised. Classical mythology has dark, bloody roots, and many of the characters, names, and traits reflect that shadowy genesis.
Preclassical religion on many shores was goddess based. The earliest goddess in Crete was a pentad deity named Hera. She created and destroyed and ultimately was awarded the life of her consort, who was also her son. Owing to the obvious classical association, the mother-goddess needed a new name in this book. I chose Kela, a derivative of kalos, which is Greek for beautiful or charm. Phoebus was Apollo’s first name. Dion is short for Dionysus. Arus is Ares. Nestor is a Greek name meaning “traveler,” appropriate for Hermes. Selena is the ancient personification of the crescent moon. Atenis was Athena, who in preclassical times was a local patron goddess of craftsmen.
Irmentis was Artemis, a goddess whose roots are blood-soaked in preclassical mythology. The plant Artemisia absinthium (wormwood) is named after her, and I gave her character an absinthe addiction. It brings on madness and visions and quells sexual desire, characteristics for which chaste Artemis was known. Because of its bitterness it is consumed with something sweet. At th
e turn of the twentieth century, it was poured over sugar. Irmentis drank it with honeycomb.
Artemis was originally a vampiric figure. I gave fact to the myth by infecting her with porphyria, the disease from which the legends of vampires and werewolves grew. Greek folklore is filled with vampire tales: those who drink blood, can’t abide the sun, whose gums draw back from their teeth, and who actually sweat blood. All of these are traits of acute porphyria.
Santorini was declared in the mid-1800s to be the most vampire-ridden place in the entire world. This was possibly a result of the embalming effects of the soil. The custom then (and today) on Santorini is to bury the deceased in the dirt, then dig up the body a short interval later for formal interment. In premodern times, if the body was not sufficiently decomposed, they claimed it had become a vampire.
According to fable the Scholomance was a school of life where all the secrets of nature, magic, and power were taught by the devil in person. Only ten students were admitted at a time. Nine were released to their homes, the tenth detained as payment. Masonic legend attributed Dionysus with first teaching these skills, in addition to architecture and masonry.
Aztlan is the name of the mythological birthplace of the Aztec civilization. More than any other culture, Aztecs are associated with Atlantis. Because of this association and the theory of Aztecs being the descendants of the Atlanteans, I incorporated assorted Aztec features into my Aztlan. The Pyramid of Days with 365 steps was borrowed, as was the feather-edged ceremonial cloak, the calendar, and the obsidian blade vow ritual. The reasoning behind Aztlan’s cannibalism is similar to the Aztecs’, and it fits modern understanding of the psychology of cannibalism. Essentially, the deceased have power that should be consumed. This consumption is a great honor and a religious rite.
The purpose and method of Minoan bull dancing has been explored by dozens of authors. The nice part of fiction is that one can suppose and theorize. Astrologically, the world had just left the Age of Taurus. During that time period, bulls were worshiped the world over.
If Atlantis and Egypt had enjoyed the close relationship that I portray, they might well have shared a common faith, namely worshiping Apis. The Serapeum in Egypt was built for the mummies of Apis bulls. Cretan legend and mythology is filled with tales of bulls, from the Labyrinth to Zeus’ capture of Europa. Plato asserts the elders of Atlantis chased the sacred bull through the palace with staves and nooses.
The ritual of baptism in bull’s blood, as described, is still practiced on the Aegean isle of Lesbos. To this day, churches in the Aegean have bullhorn-shaped belfries.
Normandi Ellis’s beautiful interpretation of the Book of the Dead, Awakening Osiris, was especially useful and inspirational for the Egyptian scenes.
Six books guided me on this journey: Unearthing Atlantis by Charles Pellegrino; Edith Hamilton’s Mythology; The Pyramids, an Enigma Solved by Davidovits and Margie Morris; Pharaohs and Kings a Biblical Quest by David Rohl; Fodor’s Greece; and the most provocative glimpse into the Minoan mind I’ve ever found, The Thread of Ariadne by Charles Herberger.
Did Atlantis exist as a superior culture? I propose that archaeology and history testify that it did. Their superiority was only in their understanding of science, commerce, and society, as opposed to mainland Greeks, who were still living in huts. Did they circumnavigate the globe, discover chemistry, have an understanding of engineering, medicine, even aerodynamics and timekeeping? Allegedly, the library in Alexandria had scrolls attesting to all these things. Whether the Egyptians, the Chinese, or a culture like the Aztlantu discovered them first, we will possibly never know. The importance is to realize that ancient people did more, went farther, and were much more sophisticated than we believe.
Did they destroy themselves? Ultimately every culture has cannibalized itself. Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Byzantine … or perhaps the Atlanteans simply made awful real estate choices, seduced by the fertile volcanic soil. Like any people, they lived their lives, birthed, wedded, and died, unaware they were mythology in the making.
So, we sail into the Mediterranean.
Suzanne Frank
October 19, 1997
Dallas, Texas
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
DOZENS AND DOZENS OF PEOPLE graciously shared their thoughts, expertise, and wisdom during the creation of this book. My thanks to those who have read for me, in part or in full: Melanie, Barbara, Eric, Erick, Dan, Dana, David, Dwayne, Diane, Hanne, Joe, Rob, Rene, River, my mother, and my class. Your perspective and ideas have been invaluable. Thank you for your time and patience.
I cannot possibly name all my on-line acquaintances who asked, “Have you thought of this, Suz?” or introduced a concept or an angle for further exploration. Thanks most especially to Matt, for the zebrafish, which led to the crab; Jason, for the information on the Urim and Thummim; Gary, for the gorgeous map; Dan, for the unpaid job of publicist/cheerleader/linguist extraordinaire; John, for how to run well; Eric, for prophets and pirates; River, for hunting and fighting; and Ira, for many long talks, hysterical laughter, and literary perspective.
Deep thanks to Diane Frank, my research scientist, who excels at explaining complex ideas in bite-size pieces; who gamely tracked down resources and articles on prions; who spent days with me in the University of Washington library as I read journal after journal. Diane, you are a goddess! Thanks also go to Dr. Farrell R. Robinson for unveiling the human brain to me. Literally. He showed me how to cut open a skull, how to extract a brain, what it feels like, what it smells like, what it looks like, and what it sounds like, (No, I didn’t taste it.)
Always, thanks to my parents. They explored Mt. St. Helens in Washington because I needed to see another volcano; they collected all references to preclassical Greece and phoned me when I needed to watch the Discovery Channel; they listened to my ranting and raving about diseases, mythology, alchemy, ad nauseam. They asked questions that made me think harder. Most significant, they never doubted I could do it.
Heartfelt thanks to Susan Sandler and Jessica Papin, my editors at Warner. Special heaping thanks to Susan, who said, “Antioxidants are old hat. Get another disease.” Thus she inspired my search for prions. She also keeps me writing in actual English, and she always gets it. Enormous thanks to Jessica, who kept the psyches of my characters consistent, who always asks for explanations for the “historically impaired” and jumps into my worlds with both feet. These women saw my vision, they encouraged its depth, and most important, they trimmed away the fat and challenged me to work harder, stretch farther. Thanks to Jackie for her time and insightful V-reader comments. Thanks to Theresa Pantazopoulos for the Reflections publicity and the great support of the Warner reps.
A special thanks to Evan Fogelman. Without him there wouldn’t be a trilogy.
Thanks to Beth and the staff at Hotel Kavalari in Santorini. It’s truly the most amazing place to stay, with stunning views of the caldera and close to the heart of the town. Beth gave her time and knowledge of the island and its shadowy sides. Thanks to Kathy Stamm, who actually got us to Greece, despite the winds, the strikes, and the Athens airport.
Blessings on you all!
PRAISE FOR
SHADOWS ON THE AGEGEAN
“IMAGINATIVE. CREATIVE. INGENIOUS. ENGROSSING.
SUZANNE FRANK HAS GIVEN HER READERS A BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN MAGICAL STORY.”
—CLIVE CUSSLER, author of Flood Tide and Treasure
“SUZANNE FRANK HAS ABSOLUTELY SURPASSED HER DEBUT BOOK WITH THIS
SECOND NOVEL OF RAPTUROUS ROMANCE AND HIGH ADVENTURE.”
—BERTRICE SMALL, author of Deceived
“AN EXOTIC, EROTIC, BREATHTAKING ADVENTURE … WONDROUSLY
CONCEIVED, BRILLIANTLY EXECUTED. I LOOK FORWARD WITH GREAT EAGERNESS
TO SUZANNE FRANK’S NEXT BOOK!”
—BARBARA WOOD, author of The Prophetess
“FASCINATING, FUNNY, INTELLIGENT, AND PROFOUNDLY ORIGINAL….
I COULDN’T PUT IT DOWN.”
—RICHARD BODE, author of Beachcombing at Miramar
“A TOUR DE FORCE OF IMAGINATION, SHADOWS ON THE AEGEAN BRINGS
A MAGICAL WORLD TO BRILLIANT LIFE. MASTERFULLY TOLD.”
—DOUGLAS PRESTON and LINCOLN CHILD, authors of Riptide and The Relic
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