Nazareth waited two days away. Ruth had woken early, stirred by anxious feelings she could not identify. She thought her anxiety strange since she felt assured that they had left the range of Temple authority. But something was amiss. A raven circled overhead. She watched the bird carve its wings into the wind. She had been dreaming frequently of birds, though she did not know why. She watched the raven level its rippling wings and cut a straight path toward the horizon. The bird vanished quickly. She imagined its sight already feasting on the contours of a distant land. Ruth reflected on the vastness of the world.

Who knew the extent of it? Or where the rivers found their end?

She closed her eyes. How humble seemed their efforts to preserve The Way in the face of such limitless life. Yet she had been pleased with their progress. Since leaving the caves, and because of Jesus’s freedom in the world, the gifts of The Way had been instilled in thousands of people. And the sharing continued every day.

But how many would remember? And if she and her companions were suddenly gone, who would preserve the wisdom and mission of the Sisters? Would men and women neglect the Mother and the connection between all things? Would all be forgotten and the foremothers’ wisdom pass into oblivion?

Spurred on by her restlessness and a sense that they were running out of time, Ruth returned to the others. She asked Jesus, Tabitha, and Mary to waken their supporters and gather them together.

“The time has come,” she told them, “for Jesus to share the final practice of The Way.”

The circle swelled like the sun, its edge ringed by hundreds of seated people linked together by holding hands. From the center of the circle rose a sound. It began near Jesus and Ruth as a low hum and slowly escalated, like the rumble of an oncoming sandstorm. Voices joined. Within minutes the tone magnified with ominous power, more felt than heard.

Children opened their eyes in wonder. And then the adults. To their surprise, the world around them burst with bouquets of brilliant color. The steady hum drew everything into alignment, connecting them like waves in a single ocean. A few were frightened by the force passing through them. Others were elated. No one had ever experienced anything like it.

Breaking from the collective intent, Mary stole a furtive glance at Jesus. Her vision swept beyond the beauty of his face and dove deeper. She did not know with what sense she was perceiving him.

Was she seeing him through her fingertips? Tasting him with her eyes?

She could not tell. She could only feel the melting of her bones as a surge of heat tunneled through her body.

Ruth, who was seated next to Mary, felt the shudder run right through her.

CHAPTER 49

Somewhere within ancient Palestine—33 A.D.