The churches!
Not too far from them was a deep gully, possibly a river, bordered by a few lonely trees; and as Jessica scanned everything in her vision, she saw that they had come upon the structures she had seen, in part, from the sky. The churches were nearly hidden from view, camouflaged so well by the surrounding dramatic cliff-faces of reddish rock so resonant they were almost the color of blood. The churches evoked nothing in her memory that she could associate with the word church, not from what she had known of whitewashed buildings with crosses planted on top. These huge structures looked as if the earth itself had given birth to them, as if only divine intervention could have carved them where they were. They were even more impressive now than from the air, because their sheer size was that much more wondrous. Jessica noticed a small hole in the face of one of the adjoining rocks, met by crude stone steps, and an old woman in a grimy white robe suddenly appeared from the hole. As if from thin air.
“A nun. She has come from a tunnel,” Teferi explained, watching Jessica’s eyes. “The churches are joined by tunnels.”
Jessica was robbed of both speech and thought as she drank in the sights around her. She hadn’t even noticed that Teferi had brought the car to a stop.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to walk from here,” he said. “I hope that’s all right.”
Jessica could only nod.
• • •
The stream, Teferi told them as they hiked in the light rain, was called the river Jordan, though it had been many years since it had resembled much of a river. The eastern cluster of churches were on one side of the river, he pointed out, and the western cluster, where they stood, were built on the other. There were twelve churches in all, with a thirteenth, the one built in the shape of a cross she’d spotted from the airplane, at some distance.
“How old are they?” Jessica asked him. The churches were like a village in themselves.
“Estimates say eight hundred years. It’s believed that it would have taken forty thousand men to build them. These churches were standing when I was a villager here in 1540, the year I met Khaldun, and they were hundreds of years old even then. All of us who lived here worshiped in them, and there are still pilgrimages today to worship here on holy days. There’s a great deal of pageantry and spectacle, if you’ve never seen such a thing. Ah! They say that this church, the one we’ll visit now, Bet Abba Libanos, was built by King Lalibela’s wife in one night with the help of angels. You don’t have to believe that, of course, but I can see why some might.”
Jessica could, too.
As they descended a steep embankment, Jessica admired the church they were approaching, which seemed to have appeared spontaneously at the bottom of the cliff face, as though the cliff had somehow melted to form a church below. How had those builders, no matter how many there were, managed to carve out a structure like this from the base of the cliff’s rock itself? Jessica could see tunnels on either side of the church, holding most of the precisely constructed building separate from the rock that blended seamlessly to form its rooftop. There was no glass in the holes carved as windows, but there were about a dozen windows in different shapes and sizes at three levels. Some of the windows, she saw, had rock hewn across them in a crosslike shape.
“This is beautiful,” Jessica said.
Teferi grunted his agreement. “I’ve seen all the wonders of this planet many times over. My very own little village measures well against any of them.”
They reached the relatively smooth, flat courtyard leading to the church’s dozen steps, which were also carved from rock. Fana was in Jessica’s arms, and she rubbed her daughter’s chin slightly, noticing the slight apprehension on her face as she stared at the structure before them. Through the church’s open doorway, even though it was dark inside, Jessica could see a man dressed in a white robe and turban standing near the entrance, waiting.
“So is this where you live? All of you? In a church?” Jessica asked softly.
“Hardly. We are a people who cherish our privacy, and there is no privacy in such a cherished edifice. This is only what’s seen on the surface. My brother Melaku is here as a priest, where he is the guardian of this church. In ten years, another of us will take his place. This is how we conduct our limited trade with mortals, through this church. Only a handful of us allow our faces to be seen by these villagers at all, and then only at intervals that will not arouse suspicion.”
“Then where do you live?” Jessica asked.
Fana whispered, as if awed, “In the dirt, Mommy.”
“You’ll see for yourself very soon,” Teferi said, indicating that Jessica should climb the steps to the church. And taking a deep breath as her heart thumped, Jessica did.
The man waiting in the doorway barely glanced at her; his expression was rigid, even dour. He had a well-kept beard and looked about a dozen years older than Teferi, though Jessica had to remind herself that age distinctions didn’t mean anything here. The man carried a wooden staff with a brass ornament on top that reminded her of the ones she had seen at the gift shop in her hotel. A cross, of course. Jessica had never seen a place so much in love with Jesus, and knowing that this man was just posing as a devout Christian made her feel a twinge of resentment.
“We’re going to the tunnels,” Teferi said to the man, as Jessica put Fana down to stand on her own. Quickly, Jessica took her daughter’s hand, straightening Fana’s shirt.
The man responded in a foreign language, and Teferi argued with him briefly, but the man’s stance was apparently unshakable. The anger in his voice did not strike Jessica as the least bit priestlike. The man held out two strips of white cloth to Teferi.
Teferi sighed, turning to Jessica. “I’m afraid you must cover your eyes. He’s already annoyed with me that I’ve let you see this much. The precaution strikes me as very rude, but . . .”
Jessica glanced at the church’s caretaker, but again his dark eyes were not directed toward her. In fact, he seemed to be going out of his way not to look at her, which made her feel uncomfortable about being led around blindfolded. If this guy was any indication, the Life Colony was not likely to be a friendly place.
“What if I just close my eyes?”
“I’m sorry. Please indulge me. He won’t let us pass otherwise.”
“I don’t get it,” Jessica said, allowing Teferi to wrap the soft fabric across her eyes and tie it firmly at the back of her head. “We’re here now. How hard would it be for me to find the colony again, since I already know where to start?”
“Oh, you’d be very surprised,” Teferi said.
Jessica scooped her daughter into her arms. She didn’t like this all-encompassing darkness, not at all, and she needed to have Fana close to her.
“Me, too! Me, too!” Fana said, obviously considering the blindfold a game.
“Don’t worry. I planned to get to you next, little empress,” Teferi said, then in a low voice near Fana’s ear, just loudly enough for Jessica to overhear, continued, “Though, in your case, this is all merely ceremony, isn’t it? I’m sure you could find almost anything you put your mind to.” Jessica felt Teferi’s warm hand slip around hers. “Shall we? I’ll lead slowly. Let me know if you tire of carrying Fana. We have quite a walk ahead of us.”
“Like how long?”
“About two hours,” Teferi said. “It’s very circuitous, but don’t worry—most of it is downhill. Once we’re in the tunnels, you both only have to be careful not to touch the walls.”
“Why not?” Jessica said, almost afraid to ask.
“I’ll let you know when it’s necessary. Please trust me. You won’t meet any harm.”
As they walked into the church, Jessica’s heart flung itself hard in her chest and maintained a driving, dizzying rhythm. Judging from the sound of shifting stones grating against each other, and a subsequent whiff of air that smelled more stale, Jessica guessed that the initial passageway was hidden in one of the church’s back rooms. She walked in careful steps, b
alancing Fana on one arm while she allowed Teferi to guide her free hand. She could tell immediately that the space they’d reached was much more confined, narrow. Behind them, she heard the large stones at the passageway they’d just entered fall shut.
Just like that, the outside world was gone. She could barely breathe the dry, cool air. We’re just taking a little walk here, she told herself, trying to keep her nerves at bay.
Immediately, she heard the sound. It began softly at first, like a hum barely within her comprehension. But as they walked, turning one corner and then another, the sound grew louder and more menacing to her ears. It was the sound of something living, something familiar to her, and yet much more loud than it should have been. A buzzing? She felt utter panic clawing at her stomach and didn’t even know why.
“What is that?” she asked Teferi. Fana was tightening her arms around her neck, drawing closer for protection.
“Bees,” Teferi said. “This part of the tunnel is full of them, as a deterrent.”
“Oh, my—”
“Please don’t be alarmed. They’re very well trained. You won’t be stung unless you touch the wall and incite them, as I told you. So please walk close to me, and don’t—”
Jessica had stopped walking. Her legs refused to go on. All she could think about was the hibiscus shrub outside the front porch of her mother’s house, and the day she had accidentally brushed past its bees’ nest with her bicycle when she was nine. She had been stung at least three times, and in this dank, dark tunnel, she could see that day as clearly as she ever had in her life. One night soon after, Alex had dared her to stay up late and sneak out into the living room to watch the movie The Swarm, about the African killer bees having a picnic on humankind, and her phobia had been sealed. The tunnel even smelled like bees to her now, like rotten honey.
“I’m afraid of bees,” Jessica said. Already, despite the fairly cool temperature, she felt sweat on her brow. “I’m not going near any bees.”
Fana had never been stung by a bee, but she was already making a whimpering sound, her grip squeezing Jessica’s neck.
“This is the only passageway to the colony, Jessica. Believe me, in ten minutes’ time, the bees will be behind us.”
Ten minutes! Jessica had just assumed they had to walk past one cluster of bees and breeze right through. But ten minutes? For the first time, she was glad she was wearing a blindfold. The sight of thousands of bees swarmed across the walls—and there had to be many thousands, from the racket they were making—would probably haunt her dreams forever. She noticed that her legs were literally wavering beneath her, as if her knees were giving out.
“I really don’t know if I can do this,” she said in a near whisper.
“Of course you can. Walk close to me, don’t touch the walls, and try to forget about them. Bees are actually very special creatures, you know. Do you know how the city of Lalibela got its name?” As he spoke, he was tugging at her gently, and she allowed herself to be pulled. One step, then two. Before she knew it, she was walking again, grateful that Teferi was distracting her with conversation.
“Again, this is only legend, but it’s an interesting story. Long ago, this place was called Roha, like your hotel. So the story goes, one day the king’s mother found her infant child, the king’s brother, surrounded by a swarm of bees in his cradle. She took that to be a sign that he would one day be king, to she named him Lalibela, which means literally ‘the bees recognize his sovereignty.’ ”
“No stories with bees in them, Teferi,” Jessica said tightly. They had reached the bees, she knew, because she could hear their riotous humming on either side of them in the narrow hallway, so close to her ears that she had to fight the primal urge to ball herself up in a fetal position on the ground or run away screaming. Her teeth clamped together so hard that her jaw hurt. Walking in the bees’ midst was like entering the belly of some living, moving creature that had swallowed her, or some kind of vast machinery. And the utter darkness behind her blindfold made her feel terrified to move. But somehow, she did.
Teferi had to raise his voice slightly to be heard. “Well, here’s the rest, in any case. As you can imagine, the king himself was not pleased with the prophecy that his younger brother would rule, so he tried to poison him. But the younger brother didn’t die, and instead he slept for three days—at which time it’s said he was transported to heaven, and the angels told him to create a city of rock-hewn churches. He eventually did become King Lalibela, of course, and commissioned the building of the churches.”
Great, he should be a tour guide, Jessica thought.
“Oh, I have been a guide,” he answered as if she had spoken aloud. He seemed oblivious to the sarcasm of her thought. “I do enjoy it. Half the amusement of knowledge is passing it on to others. I’ve often been a teacher, too.”
Just like David. Jessica was slightly embarrassed to realize how tightly she was clinging to Teferi’s hand as they made their way down the noisy, bee-filled passageway, but she couldn’t bring herself to loosen her grip. Fana, likewise, was holding Jessica’s neck so tightly that Jessica could barely speak. “You don’t sound like a man who wants to spend the rest of his life living underground,” Jessica said. “That’s a long time.”
“On my Path, when I complete my Rising, there will be no such thing as time.”
“Complete your what?” Jessica realized she was practically shouting over the bees.
“The Rising is a form of perfect meditation. It’s a way of dwelling with the divine.”
“Mortal folk just have to die and go to heaven for that.”
Teferi chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you could consider this the long way around, since it takes centuries to perfect. But you have to be dedicated to your Path even to begin, and mortals are not a part of our Path. They are, at best, only a distraction.”
Jessica froze. She was sure she’d felt something like beating insect wings at the tip of her earlobe, and she was a breath away from running as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
“What’s wrong?” Teferi asked.
“One of the bees touched me.”
“Yes, they may touch you from time to time. They’re flying all around us. But you won’t be stung if you continue walking and don’t slap at them. The bees are much like my Life Brothers—they only want to be left alone. They sting when they must, but only to protect themselves and their undertakings. In the case of the bees, it’s the protection of the queen. In ours, it is the perfection of living existence. The Rising. It is a path only immortals can undertake, and it is glorious. Much sweeter than honey, if I may prolong the metaphor.”
“What about families?” Jessica said, allowing him to pull her forward again. “I thought you said you loved having a family, Teferi.”
At this, Teferi’s voice became noticeably heavy. “Make no mistake, Jessica. It is very, very difficult for me. I am not proud to admit that I have strayed. Some years ago, I had yet another family a few hundred miles from here; and, as always, I found myself tempted to use my blood to thwart my young daughter’s sudden illness. I’d wanted to experience a family one last time, without the ruinous madness. In truth, even my eagerness to serve as your escort today is an indication that a part of my soul still thrives in mortal company. You are of my blood, yes, but you are an outsider. A newcomer. I can’t pretend I don’t crave that sort of stimulation. But no matter how much my loins or heart may cry out, I know the cost too well. The lessons have been severe. With Khaldun’s assistance, I am finally at peace with my choice.”
And was David finally at peace with his life here? That would certainly explain why he hadn’t even come to greet them. Not happy with that thought, Jessica went on, “What happened to you in Turkey . . . I mean, I know it’s hard to lose people. I’ve lost a daughter, too. But . . .”
“I didn’t lose one child, Jessica—I have lost dozens. Perhaps a hundred or more. I wasn’t very close to all of them. How could I be? But enough. Enough.”
<
br /> Teferi led her around yet another corner, and to Jessica’s dismay it seemed that the noise of the bees’ activity was even louder here than in the passage they’d just left. The bees’ song no longer sounded like a drone, but like a mechanized swelling and falling. The sound burrowed inside her skin and skull, churning. “I just don’t believe the answer is to stop loving people,” Jessica said, forcing herself to keep talking. “I won’t do that.”
Teferi sighed. “Of course you feel that way. You haven’t lived more than thirty years, I would guess. You’re within your natural lifetime, still driven by that most critical mortal urge of all, to reproduce. It can be very strong indeed. But . . . what if I were to tell you that no mortal can truly love you? Not if they know who and what you are.”
“I’d say that’s bull. My sister and my mother both know, and they love me just as much. I told them right away. I can’t live a lie like David did. It’s too lonely.”
“Well . . . since you’re so petrified of the bees, I’ll tell you another story that I hope will occupy your mind. This may be the most important story you ever hear. And many hundreds of years from now, when you have learned for yourself all I have tried to teach you today, you will remember this story very well.”
“Are we almost past these bees yet?”
“Not even halfway.”
“Okay, then tell the story. Hurry up.”
“Fana, this story is about a son of mine. Can you tell me his name? Concentrate, little empress.”
The Living Blood Page 25
