“We’re almost there,” Erin said.
Arella closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “I smell it.”
As they watched, color slowly returned to her, darkening her skin away from its ashen gray. Even her ghostly hair had begun to gather shadows. She was plainly reviving, like a dry plant after watering.
“She must be gaining strength as we near the oasis,” Erin whispered next to him.
“It comes from the water,” Arella said, opening her eyes again, some of the glow shining there once more. “It’s in the very air.”
Jordan glanced out. He saw palm trees rushing under them now, along with flowering bushes, courtyard gardens, and glints of blue water from fountains and man-made pools, all likely spring fed from the local aquifer.
Farther ahead, two milky-blue lakes framed the village. He spotted fishing boats and the zip of a jet ski, so incongruous here in the middle of such a large desert. Beyond the lakes, a series of taller, flat-topped mesas split the desert.
Christian circled the lake to the west and swung out toward one of the neighboring hills. Atop it sat a tumble of crumbling stone buildings, the ruins surrounding an old tower. It pointed at the sky like an accusatory finger.
It was all that was left of the oracle’s temple.
Erin had instructed Christian to take them here.
Jordan looked back at Arella, who continued to stare out, a tear streaking down one perfect cheek.
“I have not seen it in so very long,” she said.
Jordan didn’t know how to reply.
“This was your home?” Erin asked.
The woman bowed her head in acknowledgment.
“That would make you both the Sibyl of Cumae and Sibyl of Libya.” Erin’s eyes widened with sudden insight. “Those five symbols, the five seers who predicted Christ’s birth, they’re all you.”
Again a lowering of a chin answered her. “I made my homes in many places in the ancient world.” She stared eagerly out the window again as Christian circled toward the ruins. “This was one of my favorites. Though it was, of course, once much grander. You should have seen it in the days of Alexander.”
“As in Alexander the Great?” Rhun asked, surprise in his voice.
Erin looked at Arella. “History says he came here. That he consulted you.”
She smiled. “He was a beautiful man, with curly brown hair, shining eyes, so young, so full of the need to find his destiny, to make it come true. Like so many others who came before . . . and after him.”
She grew pensive.
Rhun imagined she was thinking of Judas.
Arella sighed. “The young Macedonian came to confirm that he was the son of Zeus, that his fate was one of conquest and glory. Which I told him was true.”
Jordan knew Alexander had created one of the largest empires in the ancient world by the time he was thirty and died undefeated in battle.
“What about the other son of a god?” Erin said. “Legends say the holy family came here, after fleeing Herod’s wrath.”
She smiled softly. “Such a handsome boy.”
Rhun shifted nervously. Jordan didn’t blame the guy. Was she remembering Christ as a boy?
Erin studied Arella. “The Bible states that it was an angel that came to Mary and Joseph and warned them to flee to Egypt, to escape the slaughter to come. Was that also you?”
Arella smiled. The woman turned to the window, gazing out at the trees and lakes. “I brought Him here, so that He could grow up in peace and safety.”
From his Sunday school classes, Jordan knew about Christ’s lost years, how He had vanished into Egypt shortly after He was born, only to reappear at about the age of twelve, when Jesus visited a temple in Jerusalem and scolded some Pharisees.
Erin stared out the window now, too, likely picturing Christ as a boy, running those streets, splashing in that lake. “I want to know everything . . .”
Arella said, “Even I can’t claim that. But I will share with you Christ’s first miracle. To understand all, you must start there.”
Erin’s brows drew down in puzzlement. “His first miracle? That was when he turned water into wine, at the wedding in Cana?”
Arella turned sad eyes upon Erin. “That was not his first miracle.”
2:07 P.M.
Not his first miracle?
Erin sat stunned, wanted to ask more, but that secret must wait. She had scolded Bernard for putting such secrets above the life of a boy. She refused to do the same.
“What about Tommy?” she asked, placing a palm over his cold forehead. “You said back in the cavern that you could save him. Is that true?”
“I can,” Arella agreed. “But we must do it forthwith.”
The sibyl turned and leaned to Christian, speaking rapidly and pointing farther to the west, past the ruins of her temple.