Harry rolled his eyes but allowed himself a grin. “Marcus, she’s exhausted. She said she’d take some tea, and I think she’s humoring you at that—now let her be.”

“Well then, fine, if that’s how it is. Would you prefer to lie down? We’ve made you up a room, and I hope you’ll be comfortable. I’ve found some things that might be of interest to you both, but we can catch up in the morning if that would be better. There’s little enough we can do tonight as it is.”

But he’d gotten my interest up, so I reminded him I’d first take some tea before retiring.

“Oh good.” He smiled even bigger. “I so much wanted to show you the birth record we found.”

“Birth record?”

“Yes, for the little girl. But do come on back to the kitchen and I’ll fill you in.”

We followed the bouncy man past the sanctuary and down a hall until we reached a set of wooden double doors. “A few of us still reside in the old monk’s quarters,” Marcus explained. “It’s rather like a dormitory back here. I apologize for the state of disrepair, but four-hundred-year-old buildings don’t care to be remodeled for plumbing and electricity. We’re working on getting it brought up to date right now, but you’ll need to be careful. There’s scaffolding and tools everywhere you turn. I hate to see it done, really. I honestly feel like we’re gutting the place, but the present pipes and electrics were installed in the 1930s, and they’re rusting and rotting out the walls. It’s the ocean air, I suppose. Wreaks havoc on them. Best thing we can do for the place now is to tear it all out and start fresh.”

“This church is four hundred years old?” I asked, disliking the quiet clip of our feet down the empty corridor. At least I prayed it was empty. Merely knowing its age made me want to close my eyes and be led through it. I’d seen enough ghosts for one evening.

“What? Oh, well, not really. Well, part of it is. The original structure was built not long after the Castillo, but it burned a time or two and was put together again. But back here, where the housing is—most of it is original. This was a mission, you see.”

“It’s bigger than it looks outside.”

“Oh yes, yes it is. Quite large. We’re backed up against the sea wall, sort of. You only see the very front from the street. Come this way—the kitchen is over here.”

The kitchen was enormous. Its ceiling must have cleared twelve feet, and the interior appeared to have been cut from one single block of rough, light stone. A large, half-oval niche in the wall staked out a fireplace so expansive that it could have cooked my car, and the floors were flat stones held together with a brownish grout. Elderly appliances, not one of which could have digitally displayed the time, sat against the walls and on the counters. The most advanced piece of equipment I saw was an avocado green coffeemaker next to a chipped porcelain sink filled with empty white mugs.