CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Thank You!
Preview of DRAGON KINGS OF THE ORIENT
Also by Percival Constantine
About The Author
Elisa Hill is a myth hunter, an adventurer who seeks out the truth behind the legends of the past, and it’s a job she was born into. Her parents were myth hunters as well and the one legend they could never prove was the myth of the lost continent of Lemuria. Now Elisa has the opportunity to finish the work her parents began. But the secrets of this lost civilization hold great value for a sinister secret society and a ruthless assassin, and both will stop at nothing—not even murder—to gain their prize. Elisa must rely on friends and unlikely allies in order to make it to the lost continent. Because if she fails, those same secrets could spell doom for mankind!
THE LOST CONTINENT
A Myth Hunter Adventure By
Percival Constantine
THE LOST CONTINENT
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 Percival Constantine
Cover illustration by Wong Comics
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Published by Percival Constantine in association with Nifty Entertainment
Fondly Dedicated to the Memory of Matthew Parks
CHAPTER 1
The small speedboat bobbed in the Caribbean waves as Elisa Hill anchored it to the small island via a large rock. She was dressed in a black tank top and khaki cargo pants. Her long, dark hair stayed out of her way by virtue of being tied into a tight bun.
There came a sound of metal scraping against something and Elisa sighed. She turned to the source and saw five men standing before her, wielding curved swords which she recognized as Middle Eastern scimitars. Each of them appeared to be of mixed ancestry, almost impossible to determine. Elisa's hands went behind her back, wrapping around the hilts of her own weapons she had holstered at the small of her back. She drew both blades at once. They were Nepalese kukri daggers, her personal weapon of choice. Curved blades which allowed for a more efficient stabbing motion.
One of them jumped from the rock formation he stood on, bringing the sword down in a large arc. Elisa defended herself, bringing the kukri together above her head as the sword clanged against them. She allowed his force to push her down a little, still holding on to her footing and then thrusting upwards, forcing him back. She crossed her arms in front of her and rapidly separated them, the kukri slicing open the man's chest. A quick kick to the head took him out of the fight completely.
Fighter number two came at her next, swinging his sword like an axe. Elisa bent backwards and the blade passed harmlessly over her torso. She used her hands to brace herself as she brought her legs around, kicking him in the jaw as she flipped over. When she got back to her feet, she brought a kukri down directly into his chest, sliding it between his ribs and piercing his heart.
She fought off the third and fourth men simultaneously, using her daggers to deflect their swords. She concentrated mostly on defense, bobbing and weaving where necessary. Elisa found herself trapped between them and as one of them thrust forward, she jumped, his sword impaling his partner. Elisa landed behind him and quickly slit his throat.
Only one left and Elisa eyed him carefully. Despite watching her take out four highly-trained assassins single-handedly, his confidence seemed to remain intact. He charged towards her and Elisa took careful aim, throwing one of her kukri daggers and it struck him right between the eyes. He made it a few more paces before he fell dead right at her feet.
She moved forward, to the reason for her trip. A short hike up the hill from the shore was an opening in the ground. Elisa took a few glow sticks from her pack and cracked them, dropping them into the cove. She anchored a rappel cable to the top and hooked the other end to her belt, then climbed over the edge. Due to the limited light, she moved slowly down the hole.
Once she reached ground, Elisa produced a flare and removed the top, the sparks bursting on ignition. Carefully, she moved through the cavern, using it to illuminate the spaces a few feet in front of her.
The walls were covered with ancient engravings and scripture, which she barely even recognized and knew it would take some time to translate. Holding the flare in one hand, Elisa drew a digital camera from a side pocket on her pack and took a few photographs of the ancient scribbling. She checked them in the camera's display—the flash had illuminated them enough to see, so that much was good.
Moving deeper, the light from the flare fell on something in the distance. She moved closer towards it, hovering the flare over what she found.
A map of the world engraved into a stone tablet, affixed to the wall. And in the Pacific Ocean was an additional landmass she had never seen on any official maps of the planet. Beneath the map were more engravings and ancient writing she could not decipher. Elisa took a photo but when she checked the camera, she saw that it fell short of her expectations. The tablet was dirty, covered with grime and it'd be difficult to translate it just from the photo.
Her hands felt along the edge and she was surprised at how she could easily pull it loose from its mounting. It had a surprisingly light weight to it and she knelt down on the ground, laying it carefully on the stone floor. The pack was on the ground in an instant and she wrapped it in a cloth before sliding it inside.
The caverns began to rumble and quake. Elisa pulled the pack back on and ran to the hole she entered from, hooking the cable to her belt and began her ascent.
As the quakes continued, she pushed her legs against one side of the hole, resting her back against the other and gripping the cable tightly, waiting for them to subside. Once her window came, she pulled herself up to the opening, the warm sun bathing her in heat and light.
As she gathered her cable, she heard the sound of a helicopter up ahead. Her eyes went up and she noticed something come out of the side door, something aimed at her boat.
A grenade launcher.
“NO!”
Her cry came too late and all she could do was shield herself as the grenade launcher reduced her speedboat to flaming splinters. Elisa started to move towards it, but she heard the cocking of a shotgun behind her. Muttering a curse under her breath, she carefully raised her arms.
“That's a girl. Now be a doll and drop those pig stickers of yours. Slowly, please.”
The voice carried tinges of a Mediterranean accent. One of the Greek islands. Elisa Hill cursed herself for not planning for this eventu
ality to begin with. Instead, she did as the gunman ordered, slowly drawing the kukri and letting them clatter to the ground.
He grabbed something from her pack and then shoved her forward. Elisa turned around and saw the shotgun wielder. Shaggy, sand-colored hair and green eyes. The sun reflected nicely on his olive skin tone and his face needed a shave. He wore khaki cargo pants and a black tank top with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, the high-powered shotgun kept fully trained on his target. “I see you're still relying on those ancient toys,” he said.
“Lucas Davalos.” She almost spat the name.
“Elisa Hill,” said Lucas with a smile. “When are you going to wake up and join the ranks of twenty-first century weaponry?”
“Why don't you come a little closer and I'll show you just how effective they can be?”
“I'm good.” He held up the tablet. “Can't thank you enough for this. Promises to make me a lot of money. What is it anyway, Mayan?”
“You don't even know what it is,” said Elisa. She looked at the dead assassins. “Were these men because of you as well?”
“Not entirely, call it a partnership,” said Lucas.
“I wonder if you'll end up leaving them in the middle of the desert, too. Stone tablets aren't really your style. Not shiny enough.”
“Still sour over that little misunderstanding, eh?” asked Lucas. “Listen babe, just so you know, that was nothing personal—just business.”
“Fine by me,” said Elisa. “And just so you know, when I tear out your throat, that won't be personal. Just business.”
He placed the tablet inside the duffel bag and zipped it up. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarillo and a lighter. “I'd offer you a smoke, but I've only got one left.”
“A gentleman to the end.”
Lucas lit the cigarillo and puffed on it before speaking once again. “Doesn't have to be this way, Elsie. If this tablet is what I think it is, I could use a partner on this one.”
“No thanks, I've seen how you reward your partners,” said Elisa.
Lucas shrugged. “Your loss. The people I'm working for pay very well.”
Elisa slowly nodded. “Right, of course. Ancient artifact, skilled assassins, you're working with the Order, aren't you?”
“What can I say, they're my biggest fans,” said Lucas. “By the way, I can't apologize enough for what happened to your boat. But you know how these things go.”
“You're an asshole, Davalos. Always have been. Nothing but a typical grave-robber.”
“Oh, and you're so much better?” asked Lucas. “Don't make me laugh, Elsie. You see, at the end of the day, we're the same. We've both killed...” He glanced at the bodies. “...although, I think you've got me beat for today. And we've both used people to get what we want.”
“Difference is my ends justify the means,” said Elisa. “I'm helping people. What are you doing? Who are you helping?”
“Myself, who else?” asked Lucas. “See, I'm a believer of the pay it forward principle. I help myself and that in turn leads to other people being helped. If I'm a rich bastard, I buy a lot of things, I hire a lot of people. I'm helping people put their kids through college.”
“That's some twisted logic you've got.”
“Helps me sleep at night.”
Elisa glared at him, her crystal eyes seeming to flash with anger. “Lucas, I am warning you.”
“Oh no, she's warning me. I just may shit my pants.”
“If you give that tablet to the Order, there's no telling what sort of chaos you'll unleash,” said Elisa.
“See, now you do have a point there, Elsie. But there is a simple flaw in your logic.”
“And what's that?” she asked.
Lucas raised his arm in the air and the helicopter hovered closer to them. As it did, a rope ladder fell from it and Lucas caught it in one hand. “I just couldn't care less. Enjoy the swim back to Tortuga.”
Keeping the gun trained on Elisa, Lucas started to climb up the ladder as the helicopter pulled away from the small island.
“Oh and Elsie? Better luck next time!”
CHAPTER 2
An older black man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard scribbled on the dry-erase board with a black marker. “Call them what you want to—call them myths, call them legends, call them religious beliefs, but whatever you call them, approach them with an objective eye.”
Professor Maxwell Finch turned from the board, examining the students through the narrow rectangular frames of his glasses. He adjusted his bow tie before his hand went to the pocket of his blazer.
“Now, we have looked at the mythology of various cultures over the past semester and whether it be from Europe, the Americas, Asia, Africa, Australia, what is something that links all these stories together?”
One of the students slowly raised her hand and Finch motioned to her with a smile. “Yes, Lindsay, please share with us.”
The young woman with red hair cleared her throat. “Well...they're all pretty similar?”
“Exactly!” he said with an excited smile. “Many of these stories are similar. In some cases we know this is a result of one culture adopting the myths of another, such as the Romans did with the Greeks. Sometimes, it's even done intentionally. There's quite a large correlation between Moses and Superman, for example. Not surprising, since the creators were Jewish, so who better to base their heroic archetype on?”
A young man with blond hair raised his hand in the front row and Max called on him. “Michael, a question?”
“Well...if these myths are all related in some way...what does that mean? How are myths from different continents similar?”
“Excellent question,” said Max. “And to answer it, I have no idea. No definitive idea, that is. You see, there are a few possible explanations for why this repetition occurs. Maybe all the prophets had the same visions and just interpreted them differently based on their cultural heritage. Maybe there's some sort of universal, collective unconsciousness that we all draw these ideas from. Maybe they're all derivative of some currently-unknown universal religion that existed in the early days of humanity. Or maybe they were all massive con artists, constantly plagiarizing each other.”
The class laughed at that one and Max smiled as well. He glanced towards the door and saw a woman with dark hair pulled into a bun standing there. She smiled at him and Max nodded to her.
“Well, I'd say that's as good a note as any to end on,” he said. The students immediately began to gather their books together and hustle for the door.
“I'll see you all next week and remember that your papers are due the week of finals. If you have any questions, I will be available during office hours and even outside of those times by appointment. And of course, you all have my e-mail address. Now get out of here before this old man rambles on too much.”
As the final student hurried out the door, the woman who stood outside entered, dressed in a conservative business suit with a knee-length skirt. She wore glasses with round, gold-rimmed frames and the lenses seemed to dull her bright, crystal eyes just slightly.
“How was the Caribbean?” asked Max, leaning against the dry-erase board.
“Had some issues with a fellow tourist,” said Elisa.
“Him again?”
Elisa nodded.
“Christ...” muttered Max. “Okay, let's step into my office.”
Max gathered up his notes and books and led Elisa out the lecture hall through a side door near the podium. The pair walked through the halls of Burroughs University, trying to avoid the students rushing to and fro. Eventually, they came to the mythological studies department where the pair both held offices. Max unlocked his office, gesturing for Elisa to go first. Once inside the office, she sat behind Max's desk, exasperated.
“By all means, make yourself at home,” he said. “Coffee?”
“God yes,” she said.
Max opened the miniature refrigerator near his bookcase and took out a bott
le of water, using it to fill the coffee pot. He checked the filter and switched the maker on.
“Just give it a few minutes.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “Now, Davalos?”
Elisa nodded. “Who else? Must've known I was gonna be there.”
“How could he have possibly known?”
“Then either he's very lucky or I'm not at all,” said Elisa. “He was after the tablet, Max. Stole it from me right after he blew up my rented speedboat.”
Max fixed his gaze on her. “So you found it.”
Elisa nodded. “The Lost Keystone of the Naa'cal, yes.”
“Could you read it?”
She shook her head. “No, but I think it was written in Naga-Mayan.”
“Just like the Churchward Tablets,” said Max. “Amazing.”
“Would have been even more amazing if I still had it, then we could translate it,” said Elisa.
“I wouldn't worry too much about it, Lucas Davalos is hardly a master of long-lost languages.” Max removed his glasses and wiped them with a cloth from his breast pocket.
“Davalos isn't the problem, who he's working for is.”
Max looked up. “You can't be serious.”
Elisa nodded.
Max sighed. “The Order...of course. Only makes sense they'd be interested in the Naga-Mayan tablets as well.”
“Now the question becomes what do we do about it?” asked Elisa.
“What can we do? We've got no leads, we've got nothing to go on,” said Max. He focused his attention on the volumes lining his shelves. Leather-bound editions chronicling the various myths and legends of the world. But these were just the academic editions. The real volumes, the ones that held true knowledge, those Max Finch kept in his private collection at home. He began to shook his head. “Elisa, you really need to start thinking a bit more in advance. Maybe if you had written down the text or made an indentation with a paper and pencil or—”
“Or taken photos with a digital camera.”
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