She dropped her eyes to the fire, suddenly feeling heavy. “I was told yesterday that life comes through dying.” She lifted her eyes and saw that Casius stared at her. “Are you ready to die, Casius?”

She had no idea why she asked the question. Really she was asking it of herself. A knot rose to her throat and the flames suddenly swam. She swallowed.

Casius tossed a stick onto the fire, sending a shower of sparks to the ceiling. “I’ll be ready to die when death defeats me.”

“So . . .” She was speaking again, and she still wasn’t sure why. “Death hasn’t put its claws into you yet? You yourself haven’t felt the effects of death— you’re too busy killing.”

“You speak too much,” he said.

This was all wrong. She didn’t mean to insult this man. On the other hand, he reminded her of everything she’d come to believe was offensive. Men like Casius had killed her parents.

“I’m sorry. It’s not that I’m not grateful for your help—I am. You just bring back some pretty . . . awful memories. I’ve seen enough killing.” She looked at Petrus. “The father told me that for every killing, there is a dying. There were two sides to the crucifixion of Christ—a killing and a dying. Like in some grand chess match, there are the black players who are the killers, and there are the white, who are the die-ers. One kills for hate, while others die for love. I was just coming to understand that . . .”

“You show me someone—anyone—who dies for love, and I’ll listen to you. Until then, I will kill whom I have to. And you should learn to keep your mouth closed.”

“You are CIA?” Father Petrus asked.

He pulled back into himself then and breathed deliberately. “I’ve said too much already. I’ll be back as soon as I check the perimeter.” He stood abruptly, walked to the entrance, and slid out, leaving Father Petrus and Sherry alone with the fire.

And the lizard.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wednesday

THEY SPENT the rest of the morning in an odd silence, waiting for signs of a search, huddled speechless in the small cavern. Several times the woman made comments in hushed tones, but Casius immediately lifted a finger to his lips. As long as they were in the cave, they wouldn’t have the advantage of being able to hear an approach. Their own silence became critical. He was glad for the restriction.

Casius made the fifth perimeter sweep of the day, stepping lightly from tree to tree, eager to confirm the direction of any search party and resume their journey north. Eager to step beyond the strange dichotomy that seemed to rear its head as the day progressed.