Celtic Empire (Dirk Pitt 25)

“Well, I’ll be,” Brophy said, eyeing the inscription over her shoulder.

“This would make for a nice tomb marker.” Summer pulled out her phone and snapped several pictures. “I’ll see if Max can translate it.”

Dirk pointed to the image of the boat. “Looks similar to an Egyptian barque or Byblos boat.” He ran the GPR in expanding circles around the stone, then chased Summer out of the hole and dropped the unit into the pit. He studied the screen and shook his head. “Not seeing anything else in the vicinity.”

The clouds overhead began to open up, delivering a handful of sprinkles that grew into a downpour.

Brophy gazed skyward. “Perhaps the gods are telling us that’s all to be found here.”

“Or all that we’re meant to find.” Dirk pulled the GPR from the hole. Summer passed the statue to Brophy and grabbed the shovel. She refilled the pit, burying all signs of the carvings on the rock.

“I’ll notify the university,” Brophy said. “This should incite the archeology department to perform a thorough study.”

Dirk dragged the GPR back to the car and tossed it into the trunk as the others climbed inside. As he hopped into the driver’s seat, Summer checked her phone.

“I guess I had a phone signal on the way back. Hiram just responded.” She smiled. “Max came through, again.”

“Pray tell,” Brophy said. “What does the inscription say?”

“‘At this place, the Princess from Amarna died in victorious battle,’” Summer said. “‘She now rests at Falcon Rock by the sea, for her journey to the Underworld.’”

“The Princess from Amarna,” Dirk said.

“She died here.” Summer nodded. “The legend is true. But she was taken away . . .”

Dirk wiped a bead of rain off his brow. “Professor, any idea about this Falcon Rock?”

Brophy shrugged. “It’s not a landmark I’m familiar with. Must be somewhere along the coast.” He thought a moment. “We need to get to Killarney.”

“Is that a potential location of Falcon Rock?” Summer asked.

“It’s the home of the Franciscan Friary. Their library has a rich collection of early Irish manuscripts and geological records. I’ll bet my buttons they have a historical place-names reference or two that will give us the answer.”

Dirk started the car. “Which way to Killarney?”

“Head on down the road a spell. We’ll eventually turn east, leaving the Slieve Mish at our back. It’s about fifty kilometers, through a beautiful stretch of County Kerry.”

As Dirk pulled onto the narrow lane, he failed to notice a silver Audi parked behind a thick hedge. The concealed sedan had followed them unseen from Tralee. The Audi’s driver started the vehicle and entered the road, following just out of view of Dirk’s rental car.

42

A casual buffet breakfast was set up in the manor’s rotunda, teeming with Evanna McKee’s rich and powerful guests. Pitt and Loren found a quiet side table, where they sampled smoked salmon from the loch with bagels and coffee.

Audrey McKee flitted about, making the social rounds, and made a point to stop at their table. “Good morning,” she said with a plastered smile. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Like the dead,” Loren said. “I’m afraid I’m still feeling a bit groggy and out of sorts.”

“A good breakfast should cure that. At least I hope so. We have a busy day filled with seminars and speakers.” She leaned forward and whispered. “You won’t want to miss the Spanish prime minister’s talk. It will be very motivating.”

“I look forward to it.”

“And Mr. Pitt,” she asked, “what’s on your agenda today?”

“I’m going to attempt a little fishing on the loch. I understand a boat can be had down the road at Drumnadrochit.”

“Indeed. It should be fine weather for a day on the water. Perhaps you can bring back some fresh fish for the kitchen.”

“I’ll certainly try.”