The feeling blanketed Mary with a sudden calm. She released her hold on the branches and slowed her breathing. As soon as she had settled, she focused her attention on the light filtering through the leaves. When an errant breeze slipped through the tree, she heard a voice inside her say, “Remember—death is not the end, but the birth of a thousand new beginnings. There is much to be done. And little time for rest. But have no fear. I am with you. Always.”

Hearing this, Mary gladdened and her tears dried as if they had never fallen.

She placed a hand on her chest and pressed the medallion along her skin.

From that day forward, she vowed, it would be her duty, and the duty of all her descendants, to guard and protect the truth of her friend Anna—and to help it rise again.

How she would accomplish this, she still did not know, but she now felt certain she would receive the knowledge she needed, just as Ruth had assured her.

Ablaze with inspiration, and cradled by a sense that her friend’s spirit still lived, Mary lowered herself quickly to the ground. Turning toward the east, she lifted the shawl about her face, tightened the pouch against her back, and dashed in the direction that called her—and that led her, again, into the desert.

EPILOGUE

An unknown land—33 A.D.

The vessel limped atop the sea. Its giant sails had been torn and shredded, its salt-warped planks marred with gashes. Still, the vessel remained afloat, the tide faithfully carrying it toward shore.

Ruth and Tabitha lay draped along the bottom of the boat, their faces blackened by the sun.

When the boat approached the shallows, its hull dragged across a rock. The grating noise startled Ruth. She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep. A moment later, she began to stir. Disoriented, she forced her eyes to open. When she did, she had the sudden sense of being watched. Lifting herself onto an elbow, she peered over the bow. She was startled to find someone looking back. A young woman.

Ruth squeezed her swollen eyelids against the light, then looked again, amazed by what she had seen.

“Anna?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She watched as the young woman lifted a rope from the boat’s hull and began to lead the vessel ashore. Her lean arms rippled with strength.

Ruth’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Anna! Oh Anna! It is you!” she cried, delirious with wonder. Unable to hold herself upright, she dropped back to the floor.

Lying still, she heard a bird call in the distance—a loud, husky cry she did not recognize.

Mother Susana had been right, she thought. The sycamore would rise again.

Thinking this, she fell back into unconsciousness, her heart lifting on a wave of hope.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS