“The pointer,” Erik echoed.
“As in our ruby arrow,” Griffin said.
“So, it’s all connected,” Cassie summarized. “This helmsman, whoever he is, is somehow connected with our arrow that points southeast.”
“Why did they come here?” Erik asked.
The other two stared at him.
“Dude, are you on a different page than the rest of the class?” Cassie asked, thinking he’d completely lost the thread of the conversation.
“No, listen,” Erik said urgently. “Why did the Minoans need to come here? What is it about this place that made them think it would help us?”
“It’s a calendar circle,” Cassie replied simply. “They always steer us toward calendar circles.”
“But why do they usually do that?” Erik coaxed, obviously already having a theory in mind.
Cassie raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to answer.
“It’s because there’s something in the sky that we’re supposed to be looking at,” the paladin explained.
“As we’ve already discussed, this particular circle was used to mark the solstices and the heliacal rise of Orion’s stars,” Griffin said.
“Heliacal rise. That’s got to be it!” Erik exclaimed.
Griffin gave him a dubious glance. “Well, there’s no way we can determine the heliacal rise of Orion. Half the stones have been carried off.”
Cassie finally understood what Erik was driving at. “Griffin, don’t you get it? The Minoans didn’t care about Orion. Sure, the emeralds on the dove’s back show Orion’s stars, but that was just to get us to the right circle. The rubies are pointing someplace else. What rises in the southeast?”
“Of course!” Griffin exclaimed. “The Minoans were drawing our attention to a star that rises in the southeast, hence the clue about the dove waking the helmsman. Metaphorically speaking, one wakes a star at its heliacal rise—when it first appears above the horizon along with the rising sun. But who is the helmsman?” Griffin stared off into space murmuring the word “helmsman” over and over. “Ah, I can’t think!” he declared in frustration.
“Let’s try it this way,” the pythia suggested. “Instead of figuring out who the helmsman is, maybe with your famous memory you can remember what stars rise in the southeast in this part of the world. What’s bright enough to see with the naked eye from here?”
“Well, the two brightest stars at this latitude are Sirius and Canopus. Egyptian mythology is filled with references to both. Sirius, as you know, was always identified with the supreme goddess. In the case of the Egyptians, she would have been called Isis. Canopus was sometimes identified with her consort Osiris and sometimes with Horus. At this latitude, Canopus functions as the southern pole star. In ancient times it would have been used for navigation purposes. It—”
Cassie cut him off. “What was that last part?”
Griffin looked perplexed.
“Didn’t you just say, ‘navigation purposes?’”
The scrivener’s eyes flew open wide. “Great goddess!” he exclaimed.
“We weren’t talking about Isis,” Cassie teased. “Stay on topic.”
He beamed at her. “That’s it! And now that I think of it, the navigational references are everywhere. Canopus is a star in the larger ancient constellation of Argo Navis. You’ve no doubt heard of Jason and the Argonauts in overlord mythology. The Argo was the name of Jason’s ship. The brightest star in Argo Navis was given the name of Canopus, after the helmsman who piloted Menelaus’s ship to Troy during the Trojan War.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Erik said approvingly. “You just said the magic word—helmsman.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Griffin sounded both surprised and pleased.
“What else do you know about this helmsman Canopus?” Cassie urged.
Griffin shrugged, at a loss. “Off the top of my head, not a blessed thing. I’ll need my reference books and computer back at the hotel to unearth more.”
“Guess we’ve done all we can here,” Erik admitted. “We might as well head back.”
Cassie moved toward the small stone marking the southeast position. She surveyed the arid expanse of sand. “There’s something out there waiting for us to find. And it isn’t far away now. I can feel it.”
Chapter 31—The Rattler
Leroy Hunt fished around inside the greasy paper bag sitting on the passenger seat of his truck. He was trying to grab the last French fry without taking his eyes off the shop across the street. Since nothing was stirring over there, he hazarded a glance at his food. Pulling out the limp sliver of potato, he stuffed it into his mouth and sighed with exasperation. Then he crumpled the empty bag and tossed it on the floor where it joined a growing collection of empty burger cartons, drained coffee cups, cracked taco shells, and shreds of wilted lettuce.
He’d been twiddling his thumbs on this stakeout for a week with nothing to show for it. After his surprising discoveries about Miss Hannah at the apartment building, he thought he’d backtrack to the place she’d visited right before that. It was the antique shop where he first came looking for the stone key. There was more to this operation than met the eye. Every time he tried to connect the dots among the preacher’s doodad, Miz Sybil, Miss Cassie, and little Hannah they all led straight back to this spot.
Leroy had a hunch that Daniel was about to get one of his brain fits any day now, and they’d have to hit the road to collect the next gewgaw. The cowboy knew he was running out of time. Since sitting here getting fat on fast food hadn’t done any good, Leroy figured it was time to stomp on the ant hill and see what scurried out.
He climbed out of the truck and shook his denim jacket to get rid of any food crumbs. Taking off his Stetson hat, he gave it a cursory inspection before dusting it off with his sleeve and setting it back on his head. Then he crossed the street with the intention of getting some answers.
The shop bell tinkled when he entered. Fortunately, there were no patrons inside. The storekeeper was alone behind the counter.
“Good afternoon, how can I help—” The words froze on
