Norah Lukens needs to uncover the truth about the fabled lost city of Cobbogoth. After her archaeologist uncle’s murder, Norah is asked to translate his old research journal for evidence and discovers that his murder was a cover-up for something far more sinister. When she turns to neighbor and only friend James Riley for help, she realizes that not only is their bitter-sweet past haunting her every step, but James is keeping dangerous secrets. Can Norah discover what they are before its too late to share her own.
The Legend of the Cobbogothians is really where Uncovering Cobbogoth begins. For as long as Norah can remember, her Uncle Jack has been obsessed with the mythical people. He became an archeologist and world famous Myth-chaser because of the Cobbogothian legends he heard while visiting his Granddad Aegissida’s farm in Iceland.
For the past several months, Norah has been having strange dreams. She initially believes they are part of the hallucinations that have been plaguing her since Gram’s death. However, as time goes on, Norah begins to wonder if her peculiar visions aren’t something more prophetic.
Standing before me was a woman with tangled, waist-length hair—hair the color of blood. Her eyes shone like amethysts. She reminded me of a painting Uncle Jack gave me when I asked him yet again for a mother—a painting of the prophetess known as the Opalian Eye in the Cobbogothian legends. As her eyes shone down upon me, I remembered her name—Totherma. She watched me carefully. Then, lifting her arm, she pointed to my right. I looked and saw a woman covering her face and crying.
Turning back to Totherma, I watched her enter a doorway, walk down a corridor, and stop in front of another doorway. I went to follow, but something made me look down. My hands were covered in blood, and the floor sparkled with shards of glass. I smelled something pungent and musty, something burning.
Looking up, I saw Totherma pointing into the doorway where she stood. I hurried to meet her, but my path was suddenly blocked by people dressed in white. Angels? I wondered.
They were huddled around something , and I knew that whatever it was had caused that salty, burning smell.
I struggled to get by them, trying to see what Totherma wanted me to see. I stood as tall as I could, but it wasn’t enough. I looked for Totherma until our eyes met. Understanding, she lifted her arm, and with the motion of her hand, I rose up off the ground. I could see over the group of people into the center of the circle.
What I saw made me scream . . .
The Legend of the Cobbogothians
Long ago, at the beginning of time, a peculiar race ruled the earth. They found favor in the eyes of the gods and received great gifts of knowledge and power at their hands. These gifts made them elementalists—masters of earth, wind, fire, water, metal, wood and space. The elementalists thenceforth became rulers of the earth and sky. With this power came corruption, and the elementalists soon forgot their patron gods. Instead, they turned to worshipping themselves and their own creations. This angered the gods, and in their wrath, the vowed to bring an icy end to the prideful race. Rumors of the looming destruction were heralded throughout the land, and a final invitation was issued to the elementalists to renounce their fallen ways. Yet only a few heard and heeded. Among them was a man named Cobbogoth. Being a wise and humble servant of the gods, he believed the warnings and led all who would listen deep into the bowels of the earth to wait out the approaching storm. When the day of destruction was come and the wrath of the gods rained down, the race of elementalists was wiped away, and then came the dawning of a violent and frigid ide age. It is said that Cobbogoth’s posterity still lives beneath our feet, waiting to rise and rule the earth and sky once more. Sigurd Jorgensson Icelandic Bard, 1045 AD *Translated from the original Old Norse by Dr. Jack A. Lukens of Harvard University, April 1975
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