The Eye of Heaven

Zusatztext A fun blend of history and mystery...A typically energetic Cussler actioner. Booklist Readers can expect the usual Fargo fun. Publishers Weekly Informationen zum Autor Clive Cussler, Russell Blake Klappentext Treasure hunting husband-and-wife team Sam and Remi Fargo must protect a discovery that redefines Totlec history in this high-stakes adventure from #1 New York Times bestselling author Clive Cussler. Baffin Island: Sami and Remi Fargo are on a climate-control expedition in the Arctic! when to their astonishment they discover a Viking ship in the ice! perfectly preserved-and filled with pre-Columbian artifacts from Mexico. How can that be? As they plunge into their research! tantalizing clues about a link between the Vikings and the legendary Toltec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl-and a fabled object known as the Eye of Heaven-begin to emerge. But so do many dangerous people. Soon the Fargos find themselves on the run through jungles! temples! and secret tombs! caught between treasure hunters! crime cartels! and those with a far more personal motivation for stopping them. At the end of the road will be the solution to a thousand-year-old mystery-or death. PROLOGUE SOMEWHERE IN THE LABRADOR SEA, A.D. 1085 Flashes of lightning seared the turbid night sky, illuminating the drawn faces of the men heaving on the long wooden oars of the Viking longship as it fought against the ravages of the unforgiving sea. The captain swayed in time with the relentless swell as he watched the wall of towering waves pounding the stern. Sheer cliffs of black water driven by the icy wind threatened to capsize the hardy craft with each passing minute. Sheets of rain lashed the grim crewmen as they strained at their task, their survival depending on their unflagging effort. The captain eyed them with determination, his brow furrowed as the deluge tore at his skin, water running along the faint white battle scar stretching from the corner of his left eye to his blond beard. He'd grown up on the ocean, one of a hardened race of adventurers and plunderers, and nature's untamed violence was nothing new. Countless nights he'd hurled oaths on the treacherous North Sea, but, even for him, this was a once-in-a-lifetime storm. The wooden vessel was now badly off course, driven north as it ran with the seas. Had it pressed on its intended route, one of the mammoth waves would have assuredly broken over the bow and capsized the ship, bringing certain death. The best the captain could do was to steer the boat with the wind at his stern and ride out the fury of the gale. A flare of brilliance streaked through the roiling clouds, glowing momentarily before fading back into the gloom. Salt water dripped from his bearskin cloak as the muscles on his powerful arms bulged from the effort. Another bright flash lit the night. The glowering profile of a carved wooden dragon reflected the light just aft of the captain's head, soaked with the spray blowing off the angry sea. From among the exhausted oarsmen, a tall man with skin the texture of leather and an untamed red mane lurched his way forward, his footing sure on the coarse oak planks beneath him even in these miserable conditions. Thor is venting his fury tonight, eh, Vidar? the captain shouted to his mate over the howling wind. He is indeed, sir. But I think the worst is past. The swells seem smaller than a few hours ago. I hope you're right. My arms ache like I've been wrestling a bear all night. I know the feeling. You've seen my wife. The two veteran seamen exchanged humorless smiles, and then the mate edged next to the captain and took the rudder staff from his grip. So much for trying to sleep in this nightmare. How are the men holding up? the captain asked. As well as can be expected. Cold. Tired. Vidar didn't sa...

Autorentext

Clive Cussler, Russell Blake

Klappentext

Treasure hunting husband-and-wife team Sam and Remi Fargo must protect a discovery that redefines Totlec history in this high-stakes adventure from #1 New York Times bestselling author Clive Cussler.

Baffin Island: Sami and Remi Fargo are on a climate-control expedition in the Arctic, when to their astonishment they discover a Viking ship in the ice, perfectly preserved-and filled with pre-Columbian artifacts from Mexico.

How can that be? As they plunge into their research, tantalizing clues about a link between the Vikings and the legendary Toltec feathered serpent god Quetzalcoatl-and a fabled object known as the Eye of Heaven-begin to emerge. But so do many dangerous people. Soon the Fargos find themselves on the run through jungles, temples, and secret tombs, caught between treasure hunters, crime cartels, and those with a far more personal motivation for stopping them. At the end of the road will be the solution to a thousand-year-old mystery-or death.

Leseprobe
PROLOGUE

SOMEWHERE IN THE LABRADOR SEA, A.D. 1085

Flashes of lightning seared the turbid night sky, illuminating the drawn faces of the men heaving on the long wooden oars of the Viking longship as it fought against the ravages of the unforgiving sea. The captain swayed in time with the relentless swell as he watched the wall of towering waves pounding the stern. Sheer cliffs of black water driven by the icy wind threatened to capsize the hardy craft with each passing minute. Sheets of rain lashed the grim crewmen as they strained at their task, their survival depending on their unflagging effort. The captain eyed them with determination, his brow furrowed as the deluge tore at his skin, water running along the faint white battle scar stretching from the corner of his left eye to his blond beard. He’d grown up on the ocean, one of a hardened race of adventurers and plunderers, and nature’s untamed violence was nothing new. Countless nights he’d hurled oaths on the treacherous North Sea, but, even for him, this was a once-in-a-lifetime storm.

The wooden vessel was now badly off course, driven north as it ran with the seas. Had it pressed on its intended route, one of the mammoth waves would have assuredly broken over the bow and capsized the ship, bringing certain death. The best the captain could do was to steer the boat with the wind at his stern and ride out the fury of the gale.

A flare of brilliance streaked through the roiling clouds, glowing momentarily before fading back into the gloom. Salt water dripped from his bearskin cloak as the muscles on his powerful arms bulged from the effort. Another bright flash lit the night. The glowering profile of a carved wooden dragon reflected the light just aft of the captain’s head, soaked with the spray blowing off the angry sea.

From among the exhausted oarsmen, a tall man with skin the texture of leather and an untamed red mane lurched his way forward, his footing sure on the coarse oak planks beneath him even in these miserable conditions.

“Thor is venting his fury tonight, eh, Vidar?” the captain shouted to his mate over the howling wind.

“He is indeed, sir. But I think the worst is past. The swells seem smaller than a few hours ago.”

“I hope you’re right. My arms ache like I’ve been wrestling a bear all night.”

“I know the feeling. You’ve seen my wife.”

The two veteran seamen exchanged humorless smiles, and then the mate edged next to the captain and took the rudder staff from his grip.

“So much for trying to sleep in this nightmare. How are the men holding up?” the captain asked.

“As well as can be expected. Cold. Tired.” Vidar didn’t say “afraid.” It wasn’t in these warriors to admit fear.

“They’ve spent enough time quaffing ale and enjoying the native hospitality. This will give them something to think about in case they’ve softened like a maiden’s robe.”

“Aye, Capta…