THE BELL TOWER tolled early the next morning.
"What the heck?!" Aya Naamah roused and rubbed her eyes to clear off the sleep. It seemed like she had just settled into their makeshift bed a second ago. "Why the hell is the damn bell ringing of its own accord? It must be some kind of magical spell weaved on the land."
Ravenna tossed and turned in the crook of Rafel's arm. She heard Aya talking but grabbed a pillow to stuff over her ears. She was by far the neediest one for comfort of the bunch. The others let her remain closest to Rafel. Unlike the women, he hadn't slept a wink. Rafel didn't trust empty bastions.
And in truth, the Abbey was a holy [El Dorado].
Since the air mattress Sekhmet had wisely packed up in her duffel came with a single Persian bedding, all the women had tumbled in with Rafel for the night. The sprawling blanket was of warm gold and green colors. "Careful with your tossing, Ravenna. You might hurt his bandages," offered the nurse.
Rafel smiled at Sekhmet's cat eyes.
"Good morning, everyone!" He sat up.
"Nooo! I want to sleep some more!" Ravenna whined. She clutched the small pillow tighter to her face, though she was more annoyed at missing Rafel's wolfish warmth than been roused to daylight. "My eyes hurt. Can't we sleep some more? Please!!!"
Rosa chuckled from her left at her babyish antics; "in case you haven't heard, darling, the Bell Tower just fucking tolled on its own. And it is certainly by the arcane. We are not alone, and we won't know if it's ghosts or just a random helping spell to aid the monks who'd lived here as an alarm clock. But, I'm certain we all understand if you wanna stay here and rest it out.
We'll just be on our own, I guess. . . opening forsaken chambers, discovering sanctums, stumbling upon holy relics, unveiling five hundred year-old sculptures of Saints, discovering secrets of the blessed.
You wouldn't want any part in that, would you?"
Ravenna's green iris automatically flashed open.
"I'm awake! I call dibs on first shower."
"Ugh! Where are the goodies?" Ravenna petted a stone pillar. It was cold alabaster.
"GUYS!" She stopped jogging suddenly and stiffly called back. "Hurry up. YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS."
"What am I staring at?" Rafel studied the area she pointed with her finger.
It just seemed like a tall, black wall.
"A wall?" Aya offered.
"No," said Rosamunde. "A door." Her voice was a hush as she stepped forward. "I always guessed the Abbey was more of a tomb as well a temple when I played to this corner of the isle as a child. But now it is confirmed. See this markings all over the surface? The ones that look like circles in circles; they are actually holy writing. Stay connected with m v l e mpyr
I can decipher and read it, but I need a key.
A-A focus. A word to unravel the rest."
She skimmed the great door with her fingertips and looked back, meeting everyone's eyes.
"Try TOMASINA," Rafel said.
Rosa nodded and turned back to the wall. She worked the key in her head to break the whorly, mystic codes. Ravenna studied her profile closely: the elegant coif of her black bob, the regal set of her spine, the brilliant sparking in her gray eyes; she could almost see the gears turning in the cute Detective's head.
Apparently, Rosamunde read Valhallan, the holy glyphs of the Martyr.
Rosa finally sighed, her shoulders slumping. She had cracked it. Ravenna was unable to stand still, and kept hopping from one feet to the other.
"Well, what does it say?"