Rain falls in a deluge.
Jude begs me to stop. We can find the tomb later. But I’m done with later. After so many dots connecting, with the picture finally coming into focus, I need to see it whole. “Maybe we’ll find more answers at the tomb.”
“Selah.” He grabs my arm.
I jerk free, blinking away the rain that’s falling in my eyes. “Nobody’s making you come with. If you’re so worried about the storm, then go.”
But he doesn’t go.
And we’re almost there.
I can see the map in my mind. I know exactly where I’m headed—the oldest corner of the cemetery. We reach it soaked to the bone. Cold water sloshes in my boots. Strands of hair cling to my cheeks as I stop in front of what should be Dante’s tomb.
Only it’s not a tomb.
It’s a sunken mausoleum, cracked down the middle and choked with ivy. Ezra’s translationmentioned an archway, but I don’t see anything that even comes close.
I turn to Jude, squinting through the downpour. “The map said to use the compass.”
“Selah, this is crazy.”
“We’re well past crazy! Just give me the compass.”
With rain streaking down his face, he pulls it from his pocket and flips it open, shielding it with his hand like a makeshift umbrella. I’m sure it will work. Ithasto work.Where the blood must fall, the compass will lead the way.Ezra wrote those words for a reason. But the needle twitches wildly, as useless as ever.
Trees groan.
Branches twist.
Thunder cracks so loud I jump.
The rain turns to ice. It stings like needles as it slices down in sheets driven sideways by the wind.
Jude scrubs his face with his hand. “Selah,please. We have to get inside.”
Lightning strikes in a blinding white flash.
And for just a second, it’s there.
Illuminated behind Jude.
A marble archway carved with three symbols.
The candle.
The eye.
The heart.
I gasp.
He whirls around.
But the light is gone and with it, the vision. Only the broken mausoleum remains.
A tree limb crashes to the ground.
Our phones blare in unison
