The Cursed - By L.A. Banks Page 0,177

be near him as he witnessed the past, present, and future was too much of a lure. She sidled up beside him as he stood in the open win

dow, her breath momentarily trapped in her throat as she watched the Middle Eastern sun paint Jerusalem stones bathed in rose-gold.

The Muslim call to prayer rang out as a distant herald, blending in a symphony of church bells to create a cultural fusion rarely found anywhere else. Certainly this was the center of the world in so many respects. The golden hues that spilled down from the heaven lit the path of stones that had been on the planet as silent witnesses to the greatest sto ries ever told. She reached out her hand through the open window just to let that part of the sun touch her, too. They had made it this far by faith. Carlos's grip pulled her in tighter as he swallowed hard, feeling it too, so overwhelmed it was impossible to articulate. How could one properly express awe as one looked at domes and spires and ancient walls that commingled with modern office towers beyond them? How was it possible for Judaism, Christianity, and Islam to all share Torah tradi tions, biblical echoes, and Koran refrains among hills after rolling hills of lands that ranged from bleak desert vistas to brilliant green oases in mountain isolation that gave rise to Dead Sea scrolls? How?

There was no way to wrap words around the palpable spir ituality or the fracturing experience of being in the midst of the archaic, as though time stood still, while vibrant,

modern markets would soon unfold, as though caravan camps in the desert along the Silk Road. Pricey souvenir shops, and bearded men in Orthodox garb, street performers, and hagglers at the Muslim Quarter market - the souk - a babble of languages, smells of turmeric and fenugreek, modem mu seums, universities, and coffee shops, and wheelbarrels bringing spices to the outdoor market. A finely woven tapes try, not so much a collision of cultures. It all left her with a sense of profound vertigo to experience the past, present, and future so compactly and beautifully arranged all in one place - at the center of the world.

A soft kiss broke their trance. Her husband's sad eyes and caress along her jaw with the pad of his thumb brought her back to the present.

"It's all so magnificent," he said in a gravelly voice. "Hu manity, and the passion to live, you know? I can't bear the thought, D, that it could all be over in a flash from the sky. They said the fire this time."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Whatever the clerics lacked in youth and vigor, they made up for in zeal. Despite their age, they'd set up an aggressive schedule. Everyone was to be downstairs by 8:00 a.m. to meet in the lobby, and have already eaten what ever they wanted. The Covenant was in full effect. It was time.

No excuses or arguments were accepted. They loaded sleepy Guardians into a minibus after much clerical debate about the safety of such an endeavor during the current cli

mate of regions trading missile fire, and headed east to begin at the Mount of Olives. Once they'd reached the Seven Arches Hotel, all the commotion ceased as Guardians dis

embarked to view the Old City looking back west across the Kidron Valley. Again, a remarkable fusion stayed words as a huge, ancient Jewish cemetery spread out below them and Christian domes and spires surrounded them.

Only one hundred and fifty yards back they found the ap proach road to the hotel that allowed them to meander through a stone gateway that yielded to a ten-foot round-diameter stone structure. Father Pat crossed himself and brought the group to a halt. "The Dome of the Ascension," he whispered. "The rock that bears our Savior's footprint." He let each person absorb what they would and the group stood, quietly steeped in each private communion for what felt like a long time, until the elderly cleric pushed onward, making an abrupt right in their walk to take them into Pater Noster Convent.

"Whoa . .." Bobby murmured, looking at the dozens of ceramic tiles in every conceivable language.

Father Patrick nodded. "Here is where He taught the dis ciples the Lord's Prayer," he said with a wave of his hand. "Every language, so many nations passed through here, but I wanted you to see this, and the path down the steep hill out side to the

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024