Greig Beck - The Mysterious Island Book 2: Beyond Odin’s Gate

The Mysterious Island

Beyond Odins Gate

Book 2

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Copyright 2023 Greig Beck

Expect the unexpected

wheres the fun in that?

Greig Beck

In 1902, famed German archaeologist Robert Koldewey, discovered the fabled Babylonian Gate of Ishtar, that was built around 575 BC. He noted that there were many images of the giant dragon-like creature known as the sirrush.

After years of extensive research he decided the images were a portrayal of a real animal because its depiction in Babylonian art was consistent over many centuries while those of all other mythological creatures changed over time, sometimes drastically, but the sirrush did not. In addition, the sirrush was shown on the Ishtar Gate alongside real animals, the lion, and the aurochs, leading him to speculate it was a creature the Babylonians were well familiar with.

The Babylonian records said the dragon was known to appear, and then vanish for years or decades before reappearing again. But no one knew to where it went, or where it came from.

PROLOGUE

1865 Lemuria, The Mysterious Island, deep beneath Greenland

Gideon Spilett stood with hands on his hips and looked up into the towering tree. His pants were ragged and tied at the waist with rope, and what was left of his shirt hung in strips from a bony and undernourished frame.

He was the last surviving member of the stolen observation balloon that crashed and trapped him on this mysterious island. After 18 months he knew by now he was no hunter, no fisherman, and no outdoorsman, and mostly he had survived on nuts, mushrooms, berries, and interesting things he found underneath fallen logs. Sometimes he had to close his eyes and hold his breath as he stuffed them in his mouth as a man of his refined sensibilities might end up voiding his stomach and he knew he needed the sustenance more than his manners right now.

Topper, his small and faithful dog, had no such qualms, and as soon as a log was rolled over, the animal darted in and snatched up anything moving. Once they had found a clutch of eggs, each the size of his fist, and though they tasted of fish, Gideon and Top ate well that day.

He nodded. I think I can do it.

He looked down at Top who stared back unblinking and tilted his head, trying hard to understand his words. The small dog whined.

I know, its high. But I need to see if there is anywhere on this island that might lead to a way off. I know you want to get home too.

Topper looked momentarily over his shoulder to the twilight gloom of the overgrown forest, and then back to his tall friend and whined again.

Ill be quick, Spilett said and turned his face to the upper branches.

The tree he had chosen was at the top of a small slope and seemed to rise above the others. Itd be a good look-out perch, provided he could climb to that height.

Spilett decided on a route and quickly shucked off his rope bag he had over his shoulders but decided to keep his knife as it was the only weapon and tool he had left.

He drew in a deep breath and began to climb.

It was easy work at first and his undernourished body was light, but that also meant it was robbed of muscle so was weak, and he fatigued quickly. He had to pause every so often to catch his breath, and after a dozen minutes he was still only about twenty-five feet up.

He looked down and on seeing him, Topper began to wag his little whip-tail. He yipped, and Spilett quickly commanded him to silence. In this place it didnt pay to advertise where you were.

He climbed on, stopped to rest, and climbed on again. In another thirty minutes he was puffing like a train and his heart was hammering, but he had made it above the canopy line. He edged out to one side and hung there to stare out at the vista he sighed it was much bigger than he expected. In the distance there was a mountain reaching up to disappear into the mist line hanging above them.

He stared up at the white ceiling above him; Cyrus had postulated it was a solid roof of ice. It seemed impossible, but in this place the impossible was commonplace. He turned back to the mountain and saw there were mighty trees surrounding it, and he thought there might have been caves on its western slope.

As he watched, something trumpeted, its mournful cry echoing across the landscape, and some of the trees began to shake and bend out of the way as if a creature of colossal size was moving beneath their treetops. He then thought he saw a mountain moving, a huge scaled back perhaps, almost at the tree top level, but thought it must have been his imagination. Nothing living could have been that big, surely.

After another few seconds it sunk down and was gone. Spilett then turned to the east; there was more water, confirming he was on an island. And behind the water, a wall of rock and ice towering into the sky. His spirits sunk; there seemed no way out.

He turned back to the mountain and traced its heights to where it vanished. He thought again of Cyrus theory of the ice roof; was it solid or could there be a way through it if he ventured inside the mountain; could he then climb via its interior?

He contemplated the journey. He had nothing but time so maybe it was a trip worth undertaking.

He continued to stare but was looking inward as he made plans in his mind, and just then a shadow passed over him and he instinctively ducked. He knew about the giant leathery bat-like creatures and had no desire to tangle with one while perched on a branch.

Spilett moved back to the central trunk and was about to scale down when he paused there was something carved into the tree four letters, just four he traced them with his finger: N E M O . Was that a name? he wondered. It didnt sound like an English name, but he bet it was carved by a human hand. He picked at the bark; the carving was dry and healed but not overgrown, meaning it had been carved within the last few years.

Spilett turned slowly, reassessing his surroundings. Someone had stood right here and spent their time doing some whittling.

Was someone else here? Is there? he asked of himself.

Just then the shadow swooped over him again, and he knew his time was up. He began to scale down, taking as much time on the way as when he climbed up. When he was still fifty feet above the ground, Topper started to bark again.

At first, he thought it was because his small friend had caught sight of him coming back and was getting excited, and probably relieved. But then the barking became manic, and was interspersed with growls, like a tiny machine grinding its gears.

Top? Spilett clambered down faster. Topper?

There was skittering in the fallen leaves beneath the tree, and he looked down catching sight of the small animal with legs braced, small tail spike-straight in the air.

Toppers teeth were bared, and he shook with either rage or fear at something just at the brush line.

Top? Spilett started to come down a little more and stopped to frown. One thing he had found after his time on this miserable place was that some colors in nature didnt exist often. And most creatures opted for camouflage coloring, which was best for hiding or hunting. But every now and then something announced itself with flaring hues the colors of warning and danger.

As he stared, he saw slowly coming out from under some palm fronds was a blood-red head as large as a shovel. At each side of it was a similar colored pair of enormous and wicked looking pincers that opened and closed.

The thing was segmented, and each segment had a pair of jointed legs. So far, about four feet of it had emerged, but Spilett had no doubt the bulk of it was still to come. And it was coming for a tasty little morsel of dog meat.