Cassie was relieved to be positioned anywhere that wasn’t moving. Her stomach relaxed. “OK, Mr. Wizard. Let’s hear it.” She looked at Griffin reproachfully. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough.”
He chuckled. “I’m sorry to have been so cryptic, but the calculations took a devil of a long time to sort out. They required my full concentration.”
“Why are we here and why now?” Erik asked. His tone of voice suggested he was about to throttle Griffin unless the Brit provided an immediate explanation.
“Let me begin at the beginning,” the scrivener replied.
“I hate it when he says that,” Cassie confided to Fred. In a louder voice, she asked, “What’s the matter? You never heard the expression ‘cut to the chase’?”
“I have indeed heard it, but in this context, it would make no sense. If I were to cut to the chase, you wouldn’t understand what we were chasing.”
“Have it your way.” The pythia sighed.
“Right then.” Griffin forged ahead. “Do you remember that interesting clue you provided to me after reading Stefan’s artifact?”
“You mean the star amulet?” she asked uncertainly. “It was in the shape of a pentacle.”
“Ah yes, the ubiquitous pentacle.” Griffin nodded sagely. “A bit overused in our current time, I’m afraid. I could go on about its symbolic associations ad nauseum.”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Cassie countered. “I’m still a little queasy.”
“Sorry. It’s not the historic symbolism of the pentacle that’s important anyway. Your vision dates back to events that occurred in the sixth millennium BCE. Far earlier than the meaning which came to be associated with that shape in more recent times. Its earliest purpose was to represent a star.”
“No surprise there!”
“But not just any star,” Griffin cautioned. “The brightest star in the heavens. One which has been an object of veneration to peoples all around the world. I’m referring, of course, to Sirius in the constellation of Canis Major. Its name comes from the Greek word seirios which means ‘the scorcher.’”
“Sirius is the dog star, right?” Erik asked.
“It’s a binary star system actually which appears as one bright white light to the naked eye but, yes, it is often called the dog star. To this day, we refer to the dog days of summer without understanding the phrase’s connection to Sirius. In the northern hemisphere, the star is most prominent during the hottest months. It’s quite interesting how persistent the canine association has been. You know, of course, that the ancient Greeks and Romans referred to it as a dog. But so did the Assyrians, Chaldeans, and Akkadians. As far away as China, it was referred to as a wolf. American Indian tribes viewed it variously as a dog or a coyote. The Eskimos called it ‘Moon Dog.’ Such global consistency in the symbolism of the star suggests that it became an object of reverence at the very dawn of human consciousness. Most probably the first people to migrate out of Africa carried the myth of the dog star with them.
However, Sirius represented much more than a heavenly hound to the ancients. In some cultures, the star was associated with a specific deity. Consequently, it figured prominently in religious practices. The temple of Isis at Philae and the temple of Hathor at Dendera were both oriented toward the heliacal rising of the star.”
“Back up for a minute,” Erik instructed. “What do you mean by heliacal rising?”
“Based on the rotation of the earth and the season of the year, stars appear and disappear from the night sky. There inevitably comes a day when a star which has not been visible for some time reappears on the horizon just before sunrise. When a star’s re-emergence coincides with sunrise that is called its heliacal rising. Heliacal, of course, comes from the Greek word helios which means ‘sun.’”
“OK, great but why is this star rising such a big deal?” Cassie glanced at the sky. Billions of stars glinted back at her, some brighter than others. Who could tell what was what up there?
“In the case of Sirius, its first appearance at sunrise coincided with the flooding of the Nile which meant everything to the ancient Egyptians. Their crops, and hence their very lives, depended on the annual inundation of the river valley. The date also roughly coincided with the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. The Egyptians based their entire calendar system on its reappearance. Sirius held such great significance for them because they believed the essence of Isis dwelt in the star. It came to be called ‘the soul of the lady.’”
“The soul of the lady,” Cassie repeated. “Now where have I heard that line before?”
“I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubble.” Erik’s voice was testy. “It’s great that they called it the soul of the lady, but we’re on the trail of Minoan artifacts, not Egyptian ones.”
Griffin gave a slight smile. “The Egyptians were not the only civilization to mark the importance of Sirius. They just happen to have left us the best documentary evidence of its worship. Other cultures also believed that the essence of a divinity resided in the star. The Sumerians explicitly associated Sirius with their principal goddess Inanna. The Minoans revered it as the home of their potnia—their great lady. In fact, all the temples on Crete are oriented toward the heliacal rise of Sirius because that marks the first day of the Minoan calendar as well.”
“So that’s why we’re here?” Cassie squinted off into the gloom. “To watch for Sirius on the horizon?” The sky was turning from inky black to a deep shade of grey. Fewer stars seemed to be visible now.
The scrivener shook his head. “Alas, if only that were true. It would be a wonderful sight to behold but the earth wobbles, you see.”
Cassie turned helplessly to Erik. “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about now?”
Erik snorted in exasperation. “Do I ever?”
“I think I know,” Fred offered helpfully. “The earth spins kind of
