Finally, they too started walking, passing the cemetery.
揟here are maidens lying here dating back centuries,?she told him. 揝ister Rachel is over there, in that open hole.?
He stared across the markers at the fresh grave. 揇o you believe that those bones were the Virgin Mary抯？？
揑 don抰 know. But it抯 clear that the maidens, and that cardinal, believe they are.?
揂nd yet, all those women rebelled against that which they so fervently believed.?
揥e don抰 know the dynamics that have been happening within this order. There could have been trouble brewing for a long time. Trouble that finally came to a boil today.?She paused. 揟he abbess wants me to join them.?
That was a surprise. 揥hat did you tell her??
揘othing. They turned Dwight loose before I could answer her and gave back his gun. That抯 when I came after him.?
揊oolishness.?
揧ou would have preferred I let him shoot you.?
揗aybe a shouting match instead of an assault.?
揝o he could shoot us both??
Good point.
They kept walking through the trees, the dense canopy shadowing everything more like twilight instead of midday. The grounds were quiet. Peaceful. No sign of Fuentes or his cohorts. Surely headed down the mountain with the bones, their mission accomplished. They came to the gate and he noticed, through the trees, that the front doors to the motherhouse hung wide open.
揟hat抯 really odd,?he said, pointing.
揑 agree. Those women are not the open-door types.?
He wondered. An invitation? 揕et抯 take a look.?
They headed for the entrance and walked into the main foyer. No one was in sight, but all the doors leading out of it were open.
揘ow, that抯 not normal at all,?Kelsey said. 揈specially with what just happened. In my convent all the doors leading into the building are kept closed and locked at all times. No exceptions. No excuses.?
揑 gained access to the inside through an unlocked back door.?
揟hat would never happen in my convent.?
Which made him wonder even more. Then he heard it. Soft. In the distance. Inside the building. Singing.
Kelsey heard it too. 揟he Ave Maria. They were singing it when I arrived. Down in the crypt.?
揧ou know the way??
She led him through one of the corridors to a stone staircase that wound downward into the earth. The singing had become more distinct, but still far off. Definitely coming from below. They descended into a crypt, the ceiling barely ten feet high, rows of heavy pillars supporting numerous vaults. Not much there other than a stone altar at the far end. Nothing on the walls. Incandescent lighting cast a yellow glow across the cream-colored stone.
揟his is their chapel,?Kelsey said.
He stepped forward, past a few of the pillars, and zeroed in on the sound. From his right. Past a section of stone hinged inward. They stared at each other, puzzlement slowly replaced by understanding. He decided to accept the invitation and entered the portal, admiring how it had been cleverly built, its axle a thick, greased metal bar embedded into the rock. When closed, the panel would have been indistinguishable from the surrounding rough wall.
A long flight of cupped, slick marble steps led down on the other side. They descended, the air becoming cold, but not dank. And he felt why. A draft signaled circulation. Down they went, ending in a spacious underground, barrel-roofed chapel with a small apse at the opposite end. Most of the walls were whitewashed, surely intended to emphasize the richness and color of the intermixed frescoed spaces. Enormous iron lanterns supported by chains hung from the vaults, their glow almost dreamlike. Not a speck of anything had peeled or chipped. Not a single sign of neglect. The maidens all knelt on the polished gray-green marble floor, singing in wonderful, lyrical tones. He studied the faces, some joyful, some relaxed. He glanced at Kelsey. A flash of joy seemed to pass through her, tears forming in her eyes. He too felt the elation.
The abbess knelt in front of the assemblage.
He stared around and noticed the frescoes.
The Virgin, wearing a mystic cylindrical headdress, hands raised in prayer, the swarthy face casting dignity and beauty. Figures of Christ, hands raised in blessing, the face a buff color with a wash of red-brown, a few splashes of black, and highlights added with streaks of white to the eyebrows, nose, and lips. More of the Virgin, each time depicted as a dark-skinned woman with clearly non-European features. Then he noticed the simple limestone ossuary, atop a marble plinth that stood before the far wall. Behind, in the apse, were two craggy recesses cut into the rock-hewn cavern. One contained a stone urn, the other what looked like a glass container.
He saw an inscription on the plinth. In Latin.