As the others discussed the volcano's location using various maps spread on the table, Seichan sat to the side, fingering a tiny silver dragon pendant hanging from her neck. It was a nervous habit. Her mother had always worn one of the same. It was one of the few details she still remembered about the woman.
As a child, Seichan would often stare at the tiny curled dragon in the hollow of her mother's neck as she slept on a small cot under an open window. While night birds sang in the jungle, the moonlight reflected off the silver, shimmering like water with her mother's breathing. Each night, Seichan imagined the dragon would come to life if she just watched it long enough-and maybe it did, if only in her dreams.
With a flare of irritation at such sentimentality, Seichan let the silver charm drop from her fingers. She had waited long enough. No one seemed to be addressing the most obvious question in the room, so she asked it.
"Back to that letter, Doc." All eyes turned to her. "What did you mean when you said that the Frenchman felt guilty about the volcano blowing up?"
Heisman still had the sheaf of papers in hand. "It's here in Jefferson's letter." He cleared his voice, picked out a passage, and read it aloud. " 'We have at last heard from A.F. He has suffered greatly and carries a heavy heart after all that befell him during the summer of the year 1783. I am very mindful that it was in supporting our cause that he followed the trail marked on the map recovered from the Indian barrow, a prize he gained at much grievous personal injury due to the ambush by our enemy. A.F. yet bemoans the volcano he caus'd to be born out in those seas during that summer. He has come to believe that the great famines that struck his home shores following that eruption were reason for the bloody revolutions in France, and bears much guilt for it.' "
Heisman lowered the pages. "In fact, Fortescue might be right in that last respect. Many scholars now conjecture that the Laki eruption-and the poverty and famine that followed in France-was a major trigger for the French Revolution."
"And from the sounds of it," Gray added, "Fortescue blamed himself. ' The volcano he caus'd to be born.' What did he mean by that?"
No one had an answer.
"So then what do we know?" Seichan asked, cutting to the quick. "From that first letter, we know Franklin called on Fortescue to find a map buried in some Indian mound. From the gist of this letter, he succeeded."
Gray nodded. "The map pointed to Iceland. So Fortescue went there. He must have found something, something frightening or powerful enough that he believed it caused the volcanic eruption. But what?"
"It was possibly hinted at in the first letter," Seichan offered. "Some power or knowledge that the Indians possessed, knowledge they seemed willing to share, possibly in exchange for the formation of that mythical Fourteenth Colony."
"But that deal got screwed up," Monk said.
Heisman's assistant had been sifting through the piles of paper. "Here's the passage again," she said. " 'The shamans from the Iroquois Confederacy were slaughtered most foully en route to the meeting with Governor Jefferson. With those deaths, all who had knowledge of the Great Elixir and the Pale Indians have pass'd into the hands of Providence.' "
Gray nodded. "But now we know that one of the shamans lived long enough to reveal the location of a map, possibly a map to a fount of that knowledge. That's what Fortescue was sent to find."
"And apparently he succeeded," Monk added. "Maybe it was that elixir mentioned in the letter , or something else. Either way, he believed it was powerful enough to trigger a volcanic eruption. Afterward, he was racked with guilt."
"Until twenty years later, when Jefferson summoned him again," Heisman said.
Seichan turned to the scholar, realized she was fingering the dragon charm, and forced her arm down. "What do you mean?"
Heisman fixed his glasses and read again from the letter. " 'After such tragedy, I am loath to drag A.F. yet again into another search, but his warmth and high regard among the aboriginal tribes of this continent will serve us well for that long journey. He will join you in Saint Charles, well enough in time to secure what he will need to join your excursion to the West.' "
Gray leaned forward. "Wait. Are you saying Fortescue joined the Lewis and Clark expedition?"
"Not me," Heisman said and shook the papers in his hand. "Thomas Jefferson."
"But there's no other record-"
"Maybe they were purged, too," Heisman offered. "Like the rest of this man's records. This letter is all we could uncover. After Fortescue leaves on this expedition, he's never mentioned again. At least as far as we can tell."
"But why was Jefferson sending him with Lewis and Clark?" Gray asked.
Seichan guessed the answer, sitting up straighter. "Maybe Iceland wasn't the only place marked on that Indian map. Maybe there was another spot. One out west. Iceland would have been closer, so they investigated that one first."
Gray rubbed a finger along the edge of his right eye, one of his habits when struggling to connect pieces of a mental jigsaw puzzle. "If there was another site, why wait twenty years to go look for it?"
"After what happened the first time," Monk said, "do you blame them for being more cautious? If Fortescue was right, their actions killed six million people and triggered the French Revolution. Of course they'd be more careful a second time."
Heisman interjected. "There's further support in the historical record that Lewis and Clark's mission wasn't purely for exploration. First, Jefferson all but admitted it."
"What do you mean?" Gray asked.
"Prior to the expedition, Jefferson sent out a letter in secret, meant only for members of Congress. It revealed the true reason for the trip: to spy on the Indians out west and to gather as much intelligence about them as possible. Second, Jefferson had also developed a private secret code with Lewis so that messages sent back could be read only by Jefferson or those loyal to him. Does that sound like a yearlong nature hike? Jefferson was clearly looking for something out west."
"But did he find it?" Seichan asked.
"There's no public record of anything like that. Then again, all records of Archard Fortescue were expunged. So who knows? But there is one intriguing detail that suggests something was being covered up."
Monk shifted closer. "What's that?"
"On October eleventh, 1809, three years after the expedition returned from the west, Meriwether Lewis was found dead in his room inside a Tennessee inn. He'd been shot once in the head, once in the chest. Yet for some reason his death was deemed a suicide, his body hastily buried near the inn. It's taken two hundred years for this cover-up to be exposed. It's now firmly believed that he was killed by an assassin." Heisman turned to them all. "Lewis had been on his way to Washington to meet with Thomas Jefferson. Some believe he had valuable information or was carrying something vital to national security when he was killed. But from there the trail goes cold."
The room settled into silence. Seichan noted Gray still rubbing the corner of his right eye. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head.
Heisman checked his watch. "And that, dear gentlemen and ladies, is where we should stop for the night. I understand you have a flight to catch."
Monk stood, and they said their good-byes. Heisman and Sharyn promised they'd continue the search in the morning, but didn't sound hopeful.
Seichan followed the two men out to the street, where the Town Car still waited for them.
Monk eyeballed Gray. "You've got that worried crease across your forehead. What's up? Nervous about the trip?"
Gray slowly shook his head as a cold breeze swept down the street. "No. I'm worried about Utah. After what we learned about Iceland-and knowing the two places are both showing odd neutrino discharges-I think today's blast is the least of our problems."
Monk popped open the car door. "If so, we have someone keeping an eye on things out there."
Gray climbed inside. "That's what worries me most."