Anna Jones, a swashbuckling, Nazi-punching archaeologist in the 1930s

(slight reset on this one)

Halys River region, Turkish Republic, 1937

Doctor Jones, Anna thought to herself as she looked at the Greek script carved into the cave entrance. It was hard for a woman to be taken seriously in a male-dominated field like classical archaeology, but she'd finally found a promising project -- cultic practices among Hellenistic Greek women. The male historians of the ancient world had barely touched on the subject in the surviving writings, and there WERE no female Greek historians from this era, at least none whose works or even names had survived to the 20th century. If she'd gone into Byzantine history there was Princess Irene, but church history didn't interest Anna. At any rate, without good written records modern understanding of women's role in religion would depend entirely on archaeology. A good find like a hidden shrine could revolutionize the field. A doctoral dissertation, a teaching position, the chance to mold the next generation of young academic women... so much was possible, if only Anna could find some intact artifacts and proper inscriptions, or even (though this was probably too much to hope for) a papyrus scroll describing the ancient rituals.

A Greek exile who'd fled this part of Turkey after the last war had warned her to stay away from the caves in this area, warning of dark magics and ancient curses, so of course Anna had rushed in as fast as the rather sketchy transportation grid would allow. The last four caves had come up empty, at least for anything related to Anna's era of study (though the cache of Ottoman coins from an old bandits' hideout would at least cover the cost of the trip), but Anna still had hope. She wasn't sure quite why the exile's story had affected her so. Local superstitions were awfully silly, after all... but that level of fear might very well be built around distorted memories of real suppressed cultic practices. It had taken the Romans and Byzantines centuries to fully stamp out paganism after Theodosius had imposed Christianity, and folk stories about old believers could very well be based on those old campaigns. And here was an inscription, solid evidence that something had gone on in this cave. Anna hoped it wasn't just a hermit's shelter, that something truly startling would turn up. It wasn't likely, but if Anna played the odds she'd be a kindergarten teacher or a housewife now instead of doing something she truly loved. She stepped forward to photograph and read the inscription...