But there’s just as good a chance that I won’t.
With frantic eyes, I study the reliquary again. I even shake it to see if something comes loose, but nothing.
Nothing until…
In my mind’s eye, I see those pointing fingers again—see the beatific look on Saint John the Baptist’s face, his finger pointing toward the heavens.
His finger.
The same finger that’s inside this glass case.
And that’s when I know.
With a racing heart and trembling hands, I screw off the lid, and, following the direction in which Saint John is pointing, I peek underneath the cap to find the small silver ball.
With a single twist, the ball comes loose, and my breath rushes right out of me as I stare at the glimmering sphere now held in my hand.
The Moon.
I did it! I really did it, and now—
Before I can finish the thought, the world caves in all around me.
61
The world as I know it falls away, only to be replaced by another.
And I watch from the sidelines, balanced on the scantest strip of mosaic-tiled floor, as a small group of people begin to gather. And from the looks of it, it’s taking place in a time long before mine.
A man with long white hair and a matching beard stands before them. And though there’s no sign of a rose hanging from the ceiling, I instinctively know this is one of those secret meetings my dad told me about.
These people are seekers—initiates who’ve traveled the globe to delve into the greatest mysteries of the universe. But first, they must undergo a sort of personal alchemy—a complete transformation of their physical, moral, and spiritual selves. If the transformation is successful, they’ll transcend into a higher state. But along with the great power that’s soon to be theirs also comes great responsibility.
I watch as a young boy kneels before the elder and offers his arm. After the old man asks him a question I can’t quite make out, he dips something sharp into a pot of dark liquid, then slowly, meticulously, marks a small circle into the boy’s arm.
With one circle complete, the elder is about to begin another when he suddenly stops, lifts his head, and even though it doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense, I swear he’s peering through centuries of time until his gaze lands directly on mine.
The moment our eyes meet, he raises a hand, extends a finger, and directs the others to see what he sees.
Come, they gesture to me.Come join us.Their call reverberates throughout time, throughout me.
Instinctively, I try to move forward, but I’m stopped by a sudden shift in the atmosphere. And I watch as the elder’s gaze darkens as he points toward something just beyond my right shoulder.
I’m about to turn, eager to see what he sees, when the vision explodes into millions of tiny, glittering shards that scatter like stardust before disappearing into the ether.
Next thing I know, I’m jolted backward.
Tossed right out of the vision and back into the baptistery, where I stand shaking, gasping for breath, and failing to notice until it’s far too late the sound of footsteps echoing behind me as a low voice says, “So, it appears you did manage to find it.”
Though the smartest option would be either flight or fight, I choose freeze.
With my feet glued to the floor and my spine gone rigid and tight, on the outside I must appear as solid and still as one of Michelangelo’s statues.
On the inside, it’s a whole other story.
My breath frantically saws in and out of my lungs as my brain scrambles to make sense of the unfathomable truth that a phantom from the past has come back to find me.
The duke.