“Why were the Belial formed?” Erin talked over him.
“As I believe Rhun told you, the tomb of Masada contained the most holy book ever written. It is Christ’s own story of how He unleashed His divinity, written in His own blood. It is called the Blood Gospel.”
“What do you mean by ‘unleashed his divinity’?” Jordan asked, pushing aside his plate, the last of his appetite dying away.
The Cardinal nodded to him. “A fascinating question. As you may know, in the Bible, Christ performs no miracles early in his life. Only later does he begin to perform a whole series of wondrous acts. His first divine miracle was recorded in the Book of John, the turning of water into wine.”
Erin shifted and quoted scripture. “The first of his miraculous signs, Jesus performed at Cana in Galilee. He thus revealed his glory, and his disciples put their faith in him.”
Bernard nodded. “Thereafter, a slew of other wonders: the multiplication of the fishes, the healing of the sick, the raising of the dead.”
“But what does all of that have to do with the Blood Gospel?” Erin asked.
The Cardinal explained. “This mystery of Christ’s miracles has confounded many biblical scholars. Why this sudden manifestation of the miraculous? What caused His divinity to shine forth so suddenly from His earthly flesh?” Bernard stared around the table. “Those questions are answered in Christ’s Gospel.”
Erin stared at him, rapt.
“Sounds like good stuff,” Jordan said. “But why do the Belial care about any of this?”
“Because the book may give anyone the ability to touch and manifest their own divinity. Can you imagine if the strigoi learned this? It might help them free themselves of their weaknesses. Perhaps they could walk in daylight, like we do, multiplying their strengths. Imagine the consequences for mankind.”
Korza cut him off. “But we know none of this for certain. It is merely Bernard’s speculation.” He stared hard at Erin, then Jordan. “You must remember that.”
“Why?” Erin’s eyes narrowed.
The Cardinal’s face had gone stone-hard, stern. He plainly did not appreciate Korza’s interruption. His next words were equally firm.
“Because you have a role to play—both of you—in what comes next. If you refuse, the world will sink into darkness. So it has been foretold.”
22
October 26, 10:32 P.M., IST
Jerusalem, Israel
Erin tried not to scoff but failed. “The fate of the world depends on us? On Jordan? On me?”
Jordan muttered next to her: “You don’t have to sound so surprised when saying my name.”
Erin ignored him, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. He wasn’t buying any of it either. She summarized all her questions with one word. “Why?”
The Cardinal returned the dusky grape to the empty bowl. “I cannot reveal that to you, Doctor, not at this time, not until you make your choice. After that, I will tell you all, and you may again refuse with no consequences.”
“You were the one who sent the helicopter for me in Caesarea, weren’t you?” she asked, picturing the whirling blades and the frightened stallion, flashing to poor Heinrich sprawled and bloody in the dig site’s trench.
“I did,” the Cardinal said. “I used my contacts in Israeli intelligence to have you taken to Masada, in case the Gospel was there.”
“Why me?” She would keep repeating this until she got an answer that she liked.
“I have followed your work, Dr. Granger. You are skeptical of religion, but steeped in biblical knowledge. As a result, you see things that nonreligious scholars could miss. Likewise, you question things that religious scholars might not. It was that rare combination that made you perfectly suited to bring the Gospel back to the world. And I believe it continues to be true.”
Either that, she thought skeptically, or I was the closest archaeologist you could find. It was late in the year, and most archaeologists were back teaching the fall semester. But what good would it do to point that out? So she held her tongue.
“What about me?” Jordan asked, his voice still ringing with sarcasm. “I’m guessing I’m just a random wild card, since there’s nothing special about me.”
Erin would have argued against that assessment, picturing his tattoo, his story of being dead for three minutes.
Could there be something to all of this?
The Cardinal favored Jordan with a small smile. “I do not know why the prophecy chose you all, my son. But you are the ones who emerged living from the tomb.”
“So what are we supposed to be doing next?” Jordan shifted on his wooden chair.
Erin suspected he was accustomed to being kept in the dark for many of his missions—but she wasn’t. She wanted full disclosure.
The Cardinal continued: “The two of you, along with Rhun, must find and retrieve the Gospel and bring it to the Vatican. According to prophecy, the book can only be opened in Rome.” He rested his elbows on the table. “That is where our scholars will unlock its mysteries.”
“And what then?” she asked. “Do you intend to hide it away?”
If the Blood Gospel existed and contained what he said, it was too powerful to leave in the hands of the Church alone.
“The words of God have always been free to all.” The old man’s brown eyes smiled at her.
“Like when the Church burned books during the Inquisition? Often along with the men who wrote them?”
“The Church has made mistakes,” the Cardinal admitted. “But not this time. If we can share it, we shall share the light of this Gospel with all of mankind.”
He seemed sincere enough, but Erin knew better. “I have dedicated my life to revealing the truth, even if that goes against biblical teachings.”
The Cardinal’s lips twitched up. “I would say especially when it goes against biblical teachings.”
“Maybe.” She took a deep breath. “But can you swear that you will share this book—as much as is safe—with secular scholars? Even if it contradicts Church teachings?”
The Cardinal touched his cross. “I swear it.”
She was surprised by the gesture. That was something. She wasn’t confident that he would keep his word, especially if the contents were antithetical to Church teachings, but it wasn’t like she would get a better offer either. And if this Gospel existed, she wanted to find it. Such a discovery could in some small way pay back the debt of blood—both Heinrich’s back at the camp and all those who died at Masada.