Sleep came short, but heavy, and Hanno rose as if against a weight upon his eyes.

  “Baal Hammon, send us the peace of Melqart and evade us of your snares!” Aba shouted.

  The priestess roused those failing to open their eyes, and she shoved her way through the sentries to stare at the golden net in the yellow dawn.

  Hanno raced to the shore with Bostar close behind.

  “Stay back!” the king ordered.

  He stood between the marines futilely restraining the priestess and the rest of the wakening crew, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “This is not for us to tamper with,” Hanno warned.

  When the crewmen spotted the golden net, not a man took a step toward its muddy binds.

  Liva raced across the open sand to help keep Aba from running free. But the priestess relaxed, and lifted her head to the sky.

  “This is why I wanted to keep her away from the shore,” Hanno scolded the marines.

  “It is a sign from the gods!” Aba declared.

  “The gold’s been there for a long time,” Liva countered.

  “Then it is their holy lake!”

  “A lake of holes it may be,” Hanno said.

  The crew glanced at one another in the silence that followed the king’s words. Several grinned, and several made chortles of their own to harmonize with the birds.

  “Were we not sent to find treasure, Hanno?” Mapen asked.

  Hanno glanced down at the net.

  “Who makes a net of gold?” he asked.

  No one replied.

  “Someone who has much more with which to sew it. If it’s treasure we seek, it’s the source of this gold we should discover,” Hanno continued.   “Ready the ship. The waters return soon. Perhaps we might be thankful for the golden catch when it comes.”

  Within minutes of the camp’s rousing, the silver waters rushed back into the muddy bottom, filling the wide lake in moments. The crew made ready, and after pushing the trireme to the shore, they shoved off using only the oars. None dared set foot in the shallows.

  The lake widened more and more, and they saw no sign of its end beneath the rising sun.

  “Never sailed a lake before,” Artemisia noted.

  “A first for the great helmsman of Caria?” Hanno asked.

  “Not unless you count the Caspian Sea. They call it a sea, but it’s really a lake. And lake waters are the most unpredictable. Sea currents and long-fetch winds are powerful, but usually predictable. But in a lake? It’s wine in a goblet stirred by a strong breath.”

  “Unfurl the sails, Helmsman. We’ll use this breath.”

  “We could snatch that net and head to Cerne.”

  “As you said, wine in a goblet. Cerne needs its shores tempered by the seas, not this unpredictable lake. Let’s discover its source.”

  With the help of the sail, the ship sped across the mirrored waters. By midday, they lost sight of the triple islands. When the sun glowed on their backs, the shimmering eastern shore rose above the glare.

  Hanno ran to the bow to stand upon the horn, squinting to spy an outlet. Liva joined him.

  “I don’t see a river,” Liva noted. “Lakes usually have river sources. Perhaps it’s dammed up?”

  “I see no dam. Only trees and rocky beaches,” Hanno shared.

  “It could be a hidden dam.”

  “A dam for a city unseen, channeled into no canals?”

  “Perhaps it’s a dam to contain this lake?”

  “That would be more reasonable.”

  Hanno waved his arms to signal the helm, and pointed to the far shore.

  “Head to the beach!” he shouted, then said to Liva, “Perhaps the canals are too small to be seen.”

  But as they neared the eastern shore, they spotted no tiny channels. They spotted no inlets or man-made constructions of any kind. The shore was an unbroken series of high cliffs. Smoothed by the ebb and flow of the lake’s rapid rise and fall, the lower rocks offered no gap for a secure beaching, while the jagged hills rose all around. A narrow range of mountains peaked beyond the cliffs, forming a bowl around the lake’s eastern sides.

  For the first time since they’d entered the lake, they spotted wildlife on the cliffs.

  Great mountain goats watched them from their high, narrow platforms. A leopard paced at the water’s edge, along with a lioness spread on a sunny rock, while a red-feathered eagle circled over them all.

  “They don’t usually stay together,” Liva noted.

  “What?” Hanno asked.

  “The cats. A leopard and a lion. They compete for prey.”

  “I’ve never seen a cat prey on fish.”

  “They’re looking at us.”

  “And there are no fish in this lake.”

  Hanno saw it a moment before the beast appeared. A boar, bursting through the trees on the lower cliffs. It stood on its hind legs, and human arms sprouted from its hooves. Its horns retracted and a snarling human head missing its left ear replaced its red-furred face. The half beast hurled a stone at the ship and struck the deck where Hanno had been standing.

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  The beast finished its transformation, and the man roared.

  More stones flew at the trireme.

  The leopard and lion reared on chimera legs to throw missiles with human arms. The eagle shrieked before landing beside the goat on the high cliff, each transforming into a man clothed in wild furs and armed with crude slings.

  The marines raised their shields and Hanno rushed behind the foremast to avoid the hailstorm.

  “Fast row, port!” the king ordered.

  The trireme presented its shielded side to the beasts. Jagged stones ricocheted off the metal shields, bouncing harmlessly into the rippling lake.

  “They’re out of range,” Artemisia noted when Hanno and Liva returned to the stern.

  “Not for me,” Bostar said.

  He launched an arrow and struck the man who’d been a leopard, forcing the others to retreat behind the trees to throw their stones from cover.

  “Is it the same Gorillae we encountered near your people?” Hanno asked Liva.

  “It’s possible,” Liva said.

  A stone struck the mast and landed amidst the troops. It was heavy and unworked.

  “No way to tell,” Liva added.

  “Let’s just assume they don’t like us,” Artemisia noted.

  “Then we move closer. Marines! Ready your ropes and planks! We strike once we’re near shore. Bostar, ready the javelins.”

  Bostar rushed to the starboard-side shields to array javelin-armed marines. They stayed hidden and ready at the railing while the wild men continued raining their missiles against the dented ship.

  “Any problems attacking these people?” Hanno asked.

  “You’d be willing to pause?” Liva replied.

  Hanno ducked to avoid a well-thrown stone.

  “If they were so willing,” Hanno said.

  Aba and her children rushed below deck while javelin-armed marines readied their weapons. Liva grabbed the still-playing Jabnit and said, “With me,” then ran to the railing.

  “Play a single loud note,” she told the piper.

  Jabnit did so, and the beasts roared in reply.

  Liva shouted at them in a language none of the Libyphoenicians understood. It sounded strong but respectful.

  The beasts threw rocks in reply.

  Hanno dragged Liva away from the railing.

  “They laughed when I told them we want peace,” Liva shared.

  “Some men want nothing of peace,” Hanno said.

  “I don’t know what makes such men.”

  “Usually, other such men. Artemisia! To shore!”

  The rowers dug their oars into the silvery water and propelled the ship straight at the rocks. With a rough turn, the trireme graced the shallows and neared the distance needed for the marines to disembark.

  “What about that thing?” Liva asked, and pointed to the catapult.

  “A siege weapon is meant for destroying fortifications, not beasts,” Hanno corrected.

  “But does it work?”

  “Of course it works.”

  “Jabnit, with me.”

  Liva ran to the catapult, and Hanno instructed two marines to join them.

  “Ready your arms, men, it’s time we go hunting,” Hanno told the marines.

  Bostar stood near the shields loosing arrow after arrow. He struck the former lion, and the man roared. He fell to his hands and feet when Bostar sprouted another arrow in his neck, and yellow fur spread over the blood on his back. The man became a lion again, and the beast leapt for the boat.

  The marines never had a chance to throw their missiles. The lion rushed those on the deck and would have torn the marines to pieces had Bostar not landed an arrow in its eye.

  “Javelins!” the bowman ordered, and they pierced the lion’s side.

  The leopard landed on the bow, followed by another of a darker color, along with a yipping beast that resembled a long-haired dog with a grinning snout full of pointed teeth.

  “Formation!” Hanno ordered.

  The javelin men retreated behind the sword-armed marines but Bostar held his ground, loosing into the leaping dog. A quick step saved his throat from its fangs, and the marines were on it a moment after.

  They struck at the dog, spilling its blood over the deck, and raised their shields against the leopards. The beasts pounced on a man each. One dug its teeth into a marine before his fellows could slay it, while Hanno ran the other through with its head still raised.

  A stone knocked a marine beside the king to the deck, adding to the slippery blood.

  Another leopard went for those at the catapult. Liva hid behind its readied scoop and launched it, sending a stone crashing against the rocks and striking the leopard with its shuddering arm.

  Amidst the melee of cornered beasts, Hanno heard a crumble of rocks from the dented hills. The man who’d been a boar when he’d first appeared climbed to a high cliff overlooking the lake. His shoulders grew and his face widened, and a great rhinoceros appeared in its place. He snorted and stepped back, digging in his feet.

  “He’s going to jump onto the deck!” Hanno realized. “Liva, another stone!”

  The marines stabbed and kicked and leapt away from the bleeding animals. Bostar spared a moment to shoot the rhino, but the animal ignored it like it was a bee sting.

  No time to maneuver the ship, Hanno raced to the catapult.

  “The base, there!” Hanno said, and shoved the arm into position. The marines lifted its heavy frame to better aim at the platform while Liva readied the ammunition.

  They put it in position right as the rhino started its run, and launched just before it reached the ledge. The stone pulverized the platform and freed a boulder to crash into the waters. The rhino missed its footing in the avalanche and tumbled over the cliff, where it smashed against the shallows in a terrific splash.

  The beasts screeched and retreated further into the woods, though they continued throwing stones.

  “Helmsman, put us back in the open water!” Hanno ordered.

  Artemisia had witnessed the rhino’s attempted strike and ordered the oarsmen to reverse away from the rocks.

  As they withdrew, the hillside continued crumbling. Dust from the fallen boulder cleared, revealing a hole in the smoothed stone near the lake’s edge.

  “Do you see that?” Liva asked.

  “It seems we’ve opened a cave,” Hanno realized.

  “How many stones do we have?”

  “Jabnit, go below and fetch the ammunition.”

  Bostar kept the wild men pinned down while the marines hid beneath their raised shields. But when they launched the catapult at the cliff, the slingers lowered their missiles. The beasts roared in fearful protest, shaking the trees as they withdrew further into the wood.

  The stone from the catapult had blasted another section of rock loose, and widened the hole.

  “What sort of cavern might this be?” Liva wondered aloud.

  “One these beasts seem to fear,” Hanno said.

  “Do we fear it?”

  “Would you prefer going to shore and hunting these creatures on land?”

  Hanno gestured to the blood on his deck. The marine with the injured neck lay pale beneath Aba’s care. The priestess had rushed to his aid once the missiles had ceased. The other crewmen helped the injured to her side, the marines holding their shields ready and raised.

  “Maybe we’ll destroy the thing that makes them such beasts,” Liva hoped. “We should keep launching.”

  Artemisia kept the trireme a good enough distance away so the stones could reach their maximum speed as they arced over the settling waters. The catapult’s heavy ammunition soon turned the smoothed cliff to rubble.

  “Like the walls of Syracuse,” Hanno said. He frowned. “Or at least, how they should have been.”

  While barriers of brick and mortar stood no chance against such artillery, Hanno had never attempted to demolish a hill. But with each blow, the cliff crumbled as if it were merely the shell of a mountainside.

  When a final stone struck home against the wetted rock, the smoothed cliff caved in. The entire hillside slid away, opening to the gaping maw of a hidden cavern that plunged deep into the base of the mountains.

  The water flooded into this round cave, emptying the lake like the opened plug of a drain.

  “Reverse!” Hanno ordered.

  Jabnit played her pipes loud as she could while the oarsmen rowed and rowed. All they could do was hold position against the growing strength of the rushing waters.

  Caught at the edge of such a waterfall, the trireme slipped toward the opening.

  Hanno ran to the stern to paddle with the rudder oar while Artemisia cursed in Greek.

  “I think we’re going in,” the helmsman noted.

  “Melqart protect us!” Aba shouted.

  “It’s Hades we’re about to see, and gods take you for sending us there, Hanno.”

  “We’ve yet to enter the Styx, Greek, now ready yourself,” Hanno said. “Liva, the cavern looks to be made from running water, yes?”

  Liva looked at the opening they slowly but surely moved toward.

  “I think so,” she said.

  “Then we’ve found the source of this water’s draining. And maybe the source of the beasts. Set our battering ram to its head, Helmsman,” Hanno ordered.

  “Go to hell and beyond, Hanno!” Artemisia cursed.

  “Forward!”

  None of the rowers could see out the leather-padded holes where their oars met the water. If they had, perhaps they would not have made such a hefty stroke.

  The trireme sped with the current and plunged into the cave.