“Could you tell us about them?” Jade asked, scooting closer to his desk. “We’re interested even in the far-fetched stories.”
“The more mundane legends hold that they returned to their lives in the east, or wherever they supposedly hailed from. The most unusual legend I uncovered is actually one I grew up with in the small village in Upper Bavaria where I was born and raised. The legend holds that the Magi were not kings, but pagan Magicians, and they left the Holy Land on a sacred task set before them by God Almighty.”
“What kind of task?” Bones interjected.
“It depends on who is telling the story.” Adler grinned. “Some say the three gifts to the Christ child were actually items of great power that had to be hidden from humankind. The gift of gold represented alchemy. Frankincense has been called everything from Magic dust to the dust from which mankind was created. Myrrh was an embalming oil, so it has been rumored to grant the power of resurrection. Other legends are less specific, but all agree they were hiding a great power, perhaps to preserve it until the end of days.” He rolled his eyes. “This is where the legend of the Magi crosses paths with the three hares. If the legend is to be believed, the Magi hid their secrets somewhere in the Alps, and the three hares became the symbol of the cult of the Magi. Three Magicians, three hares…” He shrugged.
“What about the story of the Wise Men following the star? Any legends surrounding that, or is it taken at face value?” Dane was thinking about the compass-like stones.
“The serious scholars have always tried to connect it to an astronomical event— a convergence of planets and stars. The legends have suggested that the star was actually a light the wise men carried that shone toward Bethlehem. Another story is that the star was a jewel that pointed the way.”
“Like a compass stone?” Angel asked.
“Very much so.” Adler nodded. “You did ask for the most far-fetched stories. Those hold that the star was taken away from Bethlehem and hidden away. One story claims that the star is hidden in a cavern deep below the Arabian Desert and can be identified by the smoke that pours up from the ground. The local version, of course, places the star in a cavern in the mountains.”
“In my research, I uncovered a riddle that I believe is connected to the Cult of the Magi.” Jade looked uncertain, probably hoping he would not ask where she found the riddle. Dane wasn’t worried. Jade was good at thinking on her feet. “Can you think of any place this might be referring to? It would be a place connected with the three hares or the Magi. Probably both.” She recited a passage from their clue. “into the depths of the well. The kings point the way to the falling ice…”
Adler stiffened. “Are you perhaps playing a joke on me?”
“Not at all.” Jade’s voice was soft and reassuring. “I take it this means something to you.”
Adler’s eyes bored into hers and she looked him in the eye. He stared at her for the span of five heartbeats before appearing to make his mind up about something.
“Forgive me. The words were unexpected.” He swiveled around and plucked a book off the shelf. Its cover was worn with age, but Dane could read the title stamped on the cover in faded gold letters.
Drekonhas.
“My home,” Adler explained. “Its coat of arms is a triskelion— three connected legs. This was not always the case. Historically, the coat of arms was the three hares.” It was as if a veil of sadness was suddenly drawn across his face. “The Nazis changed that when they came to power. The swastika became the new symbol until after the war.”
“Why didn’t they go back to the three hares?” Bones asked.
Adler took a deep breath. “My village is deep in the mountains. Even today they are a superstitious lot and undercurrents of paganism run strong among its people. The leaders viewed a return to three hares symbol as a return to the backward ways of the old world. The current symbol is more… common.” He looked up at them and his face brightened. “I see a connection to your riddle for a few reasons. There is an ancient stone engraved with the three hares. It now stands beside the town hall but, prior to the rise of the Nazis, it was part of the old village well, and had been for centuries.” He leaned forward and his voice fell, as if what he was about to tell them was a secret.
“As I told you earlier, Magi lore is strong in my village. The name, Drekonhas, contains parts of three words: Dreis, konig, hasen. The three king hares.” He swallowed hard. “Also, there is the eisbruch.”
“I’m sorry?” Jade frowned.
“Icefall.” Adler explained.
“An icefall is almost like a waterfall of ice,” Dane explained. “They don’t move like water, but they move faster than a glacier. They can be climbed, but they form crevasses and are filled with fractures, making them potentially deadly for climbers.”
“Exactly.” Adler nodded. “Drekonhas is nestled in the mountains near Sternspitze— one of the tallest peaks in Germany. Below and all around it is karst.” He looked up at the ceiling and tapped his cheek with his forefinger. “How would you say it? Soft stone… no…” He shook his head. “It is filled with caves. You know limestone caves?” They all nodded. “Legend tells us that a cave beneath Sternspitze is the final resting place of the Magi’s secret, and the path that leads there lies beneath the icefall.”
“Has anyone tried to find it?” Dane’s heart was pounding. The idea of climbing an icefall was as exciting as it was foolish. One look at Bones told him his friend was as eager to climb as Dane was.
“A few. All have failed. Some have lost their lives on the icefall. Others returned having found nothing remarkable. Others still have sought a way in through some of the caves in the karst, but that has proved deadlier.” He grimaced. “The caves go on forever, they say. They are like a warren, which is fitting, I suppose. In some places the way grows too narrow to pass. In others, the ceiling or floor is weak and will give way under pressure. So many have failed to return that few venture there at all anymore, and those who do restrict themselves to the outermost passages.” He lapsed into a brooding silence.
“I get the feeling there’s more to the story,” Jade said.
“Only more foolishness.” Adler barked a laugh and turned to stare out the window. “It is said the caves are guarded by Krampus.”
“The Christmas guy?” Jade laughed. She saw the puzzled expressions on the others’ faces. “According to Alpine tradition, Krampus is a partner to Saint Nicholas. Saint Nick rewards the good children while Krampus warns or punishes the bad.”
“The Anti-Santa?” Angel laughed. “What is he? A fat dude in black suit? Deliverer of coal and fruitcake?”
“No, he’s a hairy, horned man…” Jade fell silent, her face ashen.
“Are you all right?” Adler reached out and took her hand. “It must be the heat in here. Open a window, young man.” He nodded at Bones and inclined his head toward the window.
Dane felt poleaxed. None of the earlier revelations had been much of a surprise, but having seen the horned skulls with his own eyes, he knew Adler’s story held a kernel of truth.
“Do you believe in, like, the Yeti and stuff?” Bones asked, his awkward question an attempt to jump-start the stalled conversation.
“I do not know.” Adler shrugged. “But, though I would not admit it to most people, I believe in Krampus for one very good reason.”
“What is that?” Dane’s heart was hammering his ribs like a blacksmith at the forge.
“I saw him.” Adler paused as if waiting for them to scoff. When they remained silent, he went on. “When I was a young man, young enough to believe in the impossible, but old enough to be a skeptic, I ventured deep into the caves below Sternspitze. The way was perilous. With every step you are in danger of the very rock falling out from under you, or the ceiling coming down on your head. I could have died, but something made me turn back.” He paled and his voice grew suddenly hoarse. “Something peered around a corner and looked at me just as I am looking at you. A hairy man with horns.”