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Back The Occurrence Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. PART ONE: Up From Buried Light
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. PART TWO: Re-Entry
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. PART THREE: Convergence
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. PART FOUR: Surrender
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. PART FIVE: The Tablets
  67. 58
  68. 59
  69. 60
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. 63
  73. 64
  74. 65
  75. PART SIX: The Trial
  76. 66
  77. 67
  78. 68
  79. PART SEVEN: The Cave of Memory
  80. 69
  81. 70
  82. 71
  83. 72
  84. 73
  85. 74
  86. 75
  87. 76
  88. 77
  89. 78
  90. 79
  91. 80
  92. 81
  93. 82
  94. 83
  95. PART EIGHT: Guardians
  96. 84
  97. 85
  98. 86
  99. 87
  100. 88
  101. 89
  102. 90
  103. 91
  104. 92
  105. 93
  106. 94
  107. PART NINE: Into Buried Light
  108. 95
  109. 96
  110. 97
  111. 98
  112. 99
  113. 100
  114. 101
  115. 102
  116. 103
  117. Acknowledgments

But she knew it was more than that. It was something ancient. And she wanted to know what. She had fallen in love with him, broken self and all. She’d never fallen in love. She’d fucked, but love had evaded those beds. She knew his wounds—they were what drew her to him. She was wounded, too. And that he’d talked about what he saw in the warehouse, that he’d talked about the young girl, made her believe what had occurred in the aftermath of the bomb was meant to bring them together. To what, she did not know. But she knew it could heal. And maybe Hashim and the boy he’d called Nazir knew that, too.

Rain thumped on the cover above them. She wrapped a shawl around her head. Julian lifted the collar of his coat to avoid the ripping wind. She slid her hand between the upturned collar and his face and felt his cheek.

“You’re burning up,” she said, wanting to take care of him.

“I should go. You go home, too. We’re both exhausted.”

She knew the road back to each other would take time. She knew words went so far.

It would take something more than each other to heal them. Something she’d been looking for, for a long time. Something that always seemed to be out of reach. Something that seemed to be coming in on them.

21

21

Saturday, September 12

Jhana-Merise woke before dawn in a tiny stone guest room. This was her first morning in the Convent of La Merced ten miles from the center of Cuzco. A painting of Mother Mary hung on the wall over the stiff wooden bed on which she’d spent the night.

She made her way through the ancient vaulted chambers of stone and mortar. Instinct brought her to where she saw Sister Helen greet the other nuns, assembled for morning prayers.

Helen was a young woman—her lucent face bore traces of her Inca ancestors.

Jhana-Merise asked Helen if she might join them. Helen smiled and led her down cold, narrow stone steps, to a dark catacomb with an altar and six pews.

Jhana-Merise’s eyes adjusted to the candlelight. The smell of incense and the low hum of the sisters’ incantations before they joined in unison filled Jhana-Merise with the longed-for warmth of motherly love.

Thirteen women between thirty and eighty knelt before the altar. Jhana-Merise observed each one. And in turn they each appeared to welcome her with their eyes.

Jhana-Merise saw that some carried sadness, but most seemed serene in their chosen life. She took in these women in long tunics of white, and headpieces of royal blue, and felt safe within these cloistered walls.