Upon hearing all this, Rachel looked sternly at him. Vigor had failed to mention Josip’s mental condition to her, fearing it would dissuade her from allowing him to travel here. He also worried such a revelation might cast doubts on the validity of the man’s concerns.

Vigor had no such prejudices.

He respected Josip’s genius, regardless of his diagnosis.

“And speaking of that rushed timetable,” Vigor said, “perhaps you can explain why you summoned me here in such a strange manner. What you sent brought a great deal of trouble along with it.”

“They found you?”

“Who found us?” Vigor pictured the attack at the university and the deadly bombing in Aktau.

Josip shook his head, his gaze turning flighty, edgy with paranoia. Vigor could see the man struggling against it.

He licked his lips. “I don’t know. Someone killed the courier I sent overland to mail the crate. On his way back he was waylaid, tortured, his dead body dumped in the desert. I thought . . . I was hoping it was just bandits. But now . . . ?”

Josip was losing his battle. Raw suspicion shone in his face, his gaze glancing off everyone now. It seemed compulsion was not the only symptom manifesting during this stressful time.

In order to stem that growing paranoia, Vigor made fast introductions, ending with, “And you must remember Rachel, my niece.”

Josip’s face brightened with sudden recognition and relief. “Of course! How wonderful!” This slice of the familiar seemed to immediately drain the tension out of Vigor’s colleague, to reassure him that he was among friends. “Come, I have much to show you and so very little time.”

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He marched them over to a long wooden table with bench seating. Sanjar helped him clear the surface. Once that was done, they all settled down.

“The skull and the book?” Josip started, his desire plain to read.

“Yes, I have them with me. On the helicopter.”

“Can someone fetch them?”

Duncan stood up and volunteered to retrieve them.

“Thank you, young man,” Josip said. He then turned to Vigor. “I assume you’ve already identified the skull’s owner, the same man who once wore that skin.”

“Genghis Khan. The relics were crafted from his body.”

“Very good. With your resources, I knew you’d solve that mystery.”

“But where did you find such macabre items?”

“In the grave of a witch.”

The young woman, Dr. Shaw, made a scoffing noise. She had not been won over to their cause during the flight here, even after Vigor had revealed the history of the relics. She clearly suffered from her own single-mindedness and was anxious to continue onward with Sigma’s secret mission in Mongolia.

Ignoring her, Vigor encouraged Josip. “I remember you were on a research trip to Hungary, investigating the witch hunts of the eighteenth century.”

“Indeed. I was in Szeged, a small town along the Tisza River in southern Hungary.”

Josip stressed the name of the river, staring harder at Vigor, as if offering a hidden clue. Something about the name did trigger a flicker of recognition. He just couldn’t say why.

Josip continued, “In July of 1728, during the height of that witch hunt, a group of twelve local townspeople were burned at the stake on a small island in the river called Boszorkánysziget. Which means Island of the Witches, named after the great number of innocents torched there.”

“Such superstitious nonsense,” Rachel muttered with a scowl.

Jada nodded next to her.

“Actually, superstitions had very little to do with these particular murders. Hungary was at the end of a decade-long drought. Rivers dwindled to trickles, farmlands turned to dust, famine was rampant.”

“The people needed a scapegoat,” Vigor said.

“And someone to sacrifice. Over four hundred people were killed during that time, but not all those deaths were born of fearful superstitions. Many public officials used that bloody period to rid themselves of threats or for petty revenge.”

“And the twelve in Szeged?” Rachel asked, ready to hear more about this cold case.

“I found a copy of the original trial transcript in a monastery outside of town. Their inquisition was less concerned about witchcraft and more about rumors of the twelve discovering a buried treasure. Whether true or not, they refused to speak. Others took the stand to say they heard some of the twelve talking about finding a skull and a book bound in human skin. Such accusations of the occult eventually led them to be burned at the stake.”

Monk tapped one of his prosthetic fingers on the table. “So you’re saying that these twelve were tortured to death to find the location of some lost treasure.”

“Not just any lost treasure.” Josip looked hard again at Vigor, as if expecting him to understand this cryptic response.

He didn’t. He remained mystified and was about to say so—when suddenly he knew, putting the clues together in a sudden flash of insight.

“The Tisza River!”

Josip smiled.

“What about it?” Jada asked.

Vigor sat up straighter. “It wasn’t just the tomb of Genghis Khan that vanished into the mists of time. But also the grave of another conquering warrior, a local Hungarian hero.”

Rachel caught on. “You’re talking about Attila the Hun.”

Vigor nodded. “Attila died from a nosebleed during his wedding night in AD 453. Like Genghis, his soldiers buried him in secret with all his pillaged treasures, slaughtering anyone who knew the tomb’s location. The story goes that Attila was entombed inside a set of three coffins. One of iron, another of silver, and the innermost one of gold.”

Monk’s finger stopped tapping. “And no one ever discovered where he was buried?”

“Over the centuries, rumors abounded. But most historians believe his soldiers diverted the flow of the Tisza River, buried him in a secret vault beneath its mud, then returned the river to its original course.”

“That would certainly make it hard to find,” Monk admitted.

Struck by another insight, Vigor swung to Josip. “But wait, you mentioned that drought during the eighteenth century, the one that triggered the witch hunts.”

“When rivers dwindled to trickles,” Josip agreed, still smiling.

“It could’ve exposed that secret vault!” Vigor imagined the receding waters revealing Attila’s secret. “Are you saying someone actually found it?”




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