Elisha's Bones by Don Hoesel

Author:Don Hoesel
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Christian, Christian antiquities, Action & Adventure, Secret societies, ebook, Fiction, book, Suspense, Adventure fiction, Elisha - Relics, Suspense fiction, General, Religious, Archaeology teachers
ISBN: 9780764205606
Publisher: Baker Books
Published: 2009-03-01T04:28:30+00:00

CHAPTER 14

The place where the rocks and stones cry out.

I know that the biblical allusion is poetic rather than literal, but as Esperanza and I stand on the edge of a forty-foot drop-off, looking down on the roof of a nine-hundred-year-old church carved from a single piece of granite, I would be hard-pressed to think of another place on the planet that better embodies that description.

The rock-hewn churches of Lalibela are among the architectural marvels of the world, and they’re among the short list of things I’ve seen which assure me that, under the right circumstances, man can accomplish anything he sets his mind to. It’s early morning, the breeze is blowing through the valley, and there are few sounds to interrupt us. Espy and I might as well be standing at the edge of the earth for the sense of almost alien beauty that rises from the granite cathedrals.

“It’s unbelievable,” Espy whispers.

I’m in perfect agreement, especially considering the tools the medieval Christians had to work with; but I’m also cognizant of time. I have no idea how many days Brown and his team have already put in. And I’m certain that Reese now knows we survived that unpleasantness in San Cristóbal.

“Ready?” I start down the narrow steps, themselves carved out of the rock, my hand trailing along its cold surface. It’s like walking into a canyon, with sheer cliff faces rising up on either side. The ancient quarry workers began with trenches, pulling granite out to, in some places, a depth of forty feet. And like Rembrandt, only on a massive scale, they formed the lines of the churches, hollowed out the insides, and cut doorways and windows.

Espy and I are descending to Bete Medhane Alem, the largest of the churches. When we reach the base, it’s easier to appreciate the scale of the structure. Several freestanding pillars support the roof, also framing an intricately latticed doorway. The ancient artisans formed perfectly round pillars, cutting out the rock behind them, maintaining precise dimensions from top to bottom.

Even though there are already a large number of visitors in town, I see only a handful of people awake and eager to see the sites. The resident monk is out front, his colorful robes a counterpoint to the muted rock. He holds a long prayer staff and appears ready to outlast the day in that one spot if need be.

He greets us with a broad smile. Another man then appears at our side, gesturing at our feet. I’ve been warned about the shoes, so I slip them off and hand them over, Espy following my lead. I give the man a small tip and head toward the entrance.

“What is he going to do with our shoes?” Espy says, glancing back over her shoulder as the man to whom she has entrusted her pricey togs disappears.

“They’ll be waiting for us on the other side.”

She looks less than convinced but follows me in.

The interior is modeled after a basilica, and as I walk deeper into it, I count five naves.

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