Caitlin thought back to her discovery in Nazareth. Inside that well, she had been shocked to find a single, precious object, which she now clutched in her hand: a golden star of David, the size of her palm. Etched across it, in a small ancient script, was a single word: Capernaum.
It had been clear to them both that it was a message, telling them where to go next. But why Capernaum? Caitlin wondered.
She knew from Caleb that Jesus had spent time there. Did that mean he would be awaiting them there? And would her father be there, too? And, she dared to hope, Scarlet?
Caitlin and Caleb flew as fast as they could. As they went, these thoughts raced and raced through her mind, and she tried to change her focus. She would be there soon enough, and would find out for herself.
So, instead, she scrutinized the landscape beneath her. She was amazed at how under-populated Israel was in this time. She was surprised to even fly over an occasional house, since the dwellings were so spread out, so far and few between. This was still a rural, empty land. The only cities she had seen were more like towns, and even these were primitive, with nearly all the buildings a simple one or two stories, and built of stone. She hadn’t seen any paved roads to speak of.
As they flew, Caleb swooped beside her and reached out for her hand, and Caitlin took his. It felt good to feel his touch. She couldn’t help but wonder, for the millionth time, why they’d landed in this time and place. So far back. So distant. So different from Scotland, from everything she knew.
She felt deep down that this would be the final stop in her journey. Here. Israel. It was such a powerful place and time, she could feel the energy radiating off of everything. Everything felt spiritually charged to her, as if she were walking and living and breathing inside a giant energy field. She knew that something momentous was awaiting her. But she didn’t know what. Was her Dad really here? Would she ever find him? It was so frustrating to her. She had all four keys. He should be here, she thought, waiting for her. Why did she have to continue to search like this?
Even more pressing in her mind were thoughts of Scarlet. She peered down below at every place they passed, looking for any sign of her, of Ruth. She needed to know if she was back in this time and place. For a moment she wondered if she hadn’t made it—but she quickly put that our of her mind, refusing to allow herself to go to such a dark place. She couldn’t bear the thought of a life without Scarlet. If she learned that Scarlet were truly gone, she didn’t know if she’d have the strength to carry on.
Caitlin felt the Star of David burning in her hand, and thought again of where they were going. She wished she knew more about the life of Jesus; she wished she had read the Bible more carefully growing up. Once again, she chided herself for not paying attention. She tried to remember, but all she really knew were the basics: Jesus had lived in four places: Bethlehem, Nazareth, Capernaum, and Jerusalem. They had just left Nazareth, and were on the way to Capernaum now.
She couldn’t help but wonder if they were on a treasure hunt, following in his footsteps, if maybe he held some clue, or if one of his followers held a clue as to where her Dad was, where the shield was. She wondered again how they could be connected. She thought of all the churches and monasteries she had visited throughout all the centuries, and felt there was a connection. But she wasn’t sure what.
The only thing she knew about Capernaum was that it was supposed to be a small, humble fishing village in the Galilee, along the northwestern coast of Israel. But they hadn’t passed any towns for hours—in fact there had hardly even been a soul in sight—and she had seen no sign of any water—much less a sea.
Then, just as she was thinking it, they flew over a mountaintop and as they crossed its peak, the other side of the valley opened up before her, and took her breath away. There, stretching forever, was a shining sea. It was a deeper blue than she had ever seen, and it positively sparkled in the sunlight, looking like a treasure chest. Bordering it was a magnificent shore of white sand, and the waves crashed against it, as far as the eye could see.
Caitlin felt a thrill of excitement. They were flying in the right direction. If they stayed along the shoreline, it should take them to Capernaum.
“There,” came Caleb’s voice.
She followed his finger, squinting into the horizon, and could just barely make it out: in the distance sat a small village. It was hardly a city, hardly even a town. There were maybe two dozen homes, along with a large structure, nestled against the shoreline. As they got closer, Caitlin squinted, examining it, but she could hardly see anyone: only a few villagers walked the streets. She wondered if it was because of the midday sun, or because it was uninhabited. The place looked deserted.
Caitlin looked down for any sign of Jesus himself, but she saw none. More importantly, she did not sense it. If what Caleb said was true, she would sense his energy from far off. But she didn’t sense any unusual energy. Once again, she started to wonder if they were in the right time and place. Maybe that man was wrong: maybe Jesus had died years before. Or maybe he wasn’t even born yet.
Caleb suddenly dove down, towards the village, and Caitlin followed. They found an inconspicuous place to land, outside the village wall, in a grove of olive trees. Then they walked through the town gate
They walked through the small, dusty village, and it was hot in here, everything basking in the sun. The few villagers who ambled about barely seemed to notice them; they seemed only intent on seeking shade, on fanning themselves. One old lady walked to the town well, raised a large spoon to her hand, and drank, then reached up and wiped sweat from her brow.
As they traversed the small streets, the place seemed utterly deserted. Caitlin scanned for any sign, anything, that might point to a clue, to any sign of Jesus, or her father, or the shield, or of Scarlet—but found nothing.
She turned to Caleb.
“Now what?” she asked.
Caleb looked back blankly. He seemed as at a loss as she was.
Caitlin turned, surveying the village walls, the humble architecture, and as she looked through the town, she noticed a narrow, well-worn pathway, leading down to the ocean. As she followed its trail, through a town gate, in the distance, she saw the glimmer of the ocean.
She nudged Caleb, and he saw it, too, and followed her as she walked out the town, towards the shore.
As they neared the shoreline, Caitlin saw three small, brightly-colored fishing boats, weathered, half-beached on the sand, bobbing in the waves. In one sat a fisherman, and standing beside the other two, ankle deep in the ocean, were two more fishermen. They were older men, with gray hair and matching beards, faces as weathered as their boats, suntanned, deeply lined. They wore white robes and white hoods to block out the sun.
As Caitlin watched, two of them hoisted a fishing net and dragged it through slowly the waves. They pulled at it, fighting the waves, and a small boy jumped out of one of the boats and ran to the net, helping them pull it in. As it reached the shore, Caitlin saw they had caught dozens of fish, squirming and flopping. The boy practically squealed in delight, while the old men were somber.
Caitlin and Caleb had snuck up on them so quietly—especially with the sound of the crashing waves—that they still didn’t know they were there. Caitlin cleared her throat so as not to startle them.
They all immediately wheeled and looked her way. She could see the surprise in their eyes. She didn’t blame them: they must have been a shocking sight, the two of them, dressed in all black from head to toe, in modern, leather, battle gear. They must have looked as if they dropped straight down from the sky.
“We are sorry to bother you,” Caitlin began, “but are we in Capernaum?” she asked the nearest fellow.
He looked from her to Caleb, then back to her. He slowly nodded back.
“We are looking for someone,” Caitlin continued.
“And who might that be?” the other fisherman asked.
Caitlin was about to say “my Dad,” but then stopped herself, realizing that w
ouldn’t do any good. How would she describe him anyway? She didn’t even know who he was, or what he looked like.
So, instead, she said the only person who came to mind, the only person they might recognize: “Jesus.”
She half expected them to mock her, to laugh at her, to look at her as if she were crazy. Or, alternately, to have no idea who Jesus was.
But to her surprise, they didn’t seem surprised by her question. They looked like they took her seriously.
“He left two weeks ago,” one of them said.
Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat. So. It was true. He was really alive. They were really in his time. And he had really been here, to this village.
“And all his followers with him,” said the other. “Only the old folks like us and children stayed behind.”
“So he’s real?” Caitlin asked, in shock. She could still hardly believe it; it was almost too much to comprehend.
The boy stepped up, walking close to Caitlin.
“He fixed my grandpa’s hand,” the boy said. “Look at it. He was a leper. Now he’s healed. Show her, grandpa,” the boy said.
The old man slowly turned and pulled back his sleeve. His hand looked perfectly normal. In fact, as Caitlin looked closely, she saw his hand actually looked much younger than the other. It was uncanny. He had the hand of an 18-year-old boy. Pink, rosy and healthy—as if he’d been given a new hand.
Caitlin couldn’t believe it. Jesus was real. He really healed people.
Caitlin knew something about healing people. She thought back to her own powers, to the time when she healed Scarlet. The thought made Caitlin’s heart break, made her miss her more than ever. She knew that healing was real, and that healers were real. And she had no doubt that Jesus was a great healer.
But seeing this man’s hand, this man who was once a leper, perfectly healed, sent a chill up her spine. It brought it all home. For the first time, she had hope that she might really find him, and really find her Dad, and the Shield. And that they might lead her to Scarlet.
“Do you know where he went?” Caleb asked.
“Jerusalem, is what we hear,” yelled out one of the other fishermen, over the sound of the crashing waves.
Jerusalem, Caitlin thought. It felt so far away. They had flown all the way up here, to Capernaum. And now, it was feeling like a wild goose chase. After all that, they would have to turn around and leave empty-handed.
But she could feel the Star of David burning in her hand, and she felt certain that there had to be a reason they were sent to Capernaum. She felt there was something more, something they needed to find.
“One of his disciples is still here,” a fishermen said. “Paul. You can ask him. He might know exactly where they’re going.”
“Where is he?” Caitlin asked
“Where they all spent their time. The old synagogue,” the man said. He turned and pointed back over his shoulder with his thumb.
Caitlin turned and looked over her shoulder, and there, sitting on a hill, overlooking the ocean, she saw a beautiful, small, limestone temple. Even in this time, it already looked ancient. Bedecked with intricate columns, it looked out over the sea, with a direct view of the crashing waves. Even from here, Caitlin could sense that this was a holy place.
“It was Jesus’s synagogue,” one of the men said. “It was where he spent all his time.”
“Thank you,” Caitlin said, beginning to walk towards it.
As she walked, the man reached out and grabbed her arm with his new, healthy hand. Caitlin stopped and looked at him. She could feel the energy pulsing through his hand, into her arm. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was a healing, comforting energy.
“You’re not from here, are you?” the man asked.
Caitlin felt him looking into her eyes, and could tell that he was sensing something. She realized there was no use in lying to him.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
He stared back at her for a long time, then slowly nodded, satisfied.
“You will find him,” he said to her. “I can feel it.”
*
Caitlin and Caleb walked up the shore, waves crashing beside them, the smell of salt heavy in the air. The cool breezes were refreshing to Caitlin, especially after so much time in the desert heat. They turned and ascended a small hill, at the top of which sat nestled the ancient synagogue.
Caitlin looked up at it as they approached: built of a worn limestone, it seemed as if it had been here for thousands of years. She could feel the energy coming off the place; this was a holy place, she could tell already. Its large, arched door was ajar and creaked as it swayed in the wind, rocked by the ocean breezes.
As they hiked up the hill, they passed clumps of wild flowers, growing seemingly right out of the rock, in an array of bright desert colors. They were the most beautiful flowers Caitlin had ever seen, so unexpected, so unlikely in this desolate place.
They reached the top of the hill and walked right up to the door. Caitlin felt the Star of David burning inside her pocket, and she knew they had come to the right place.
She looked up and over the doorway, embedded in the stone, was a huge, golden star of David, surrounded by Hebrew letters. It was amazing to think that she was about to enter a place where Jesus had spent so much time. Somehow she had expected to enter a church—but, of course, as she thought about it, she realized that wouldn’t make sense, since churches weren’t built, of course, until after he died. It seemed strange to think of Jesus in a synagogue—but then again, after all, she knew he had been Jewish, and a Rabbi, and so it made perfect sense.
But what relevance did all of this have for her search for her Dad? For the shield? She was increasingly feeling that all this was connected, all the centuries and times and places, all of the searching in all the monasteries and churches, all of the keys, all of the crosses. She felt that a common thread was sitting there, right before he eyes. Yet she still didn’t know what.
Clearly there was some holy, spiritual element to whatever it was she needed to find. Which also seemed strange to her, because after all, this was a world of vampires. But then again, as she thought about it, she realized this was also a spiritual war, between supernatural forces of good and evil, those who wanted to protect the human race, and those who wanted to harm it. And clearly, whatever it was she found would have huge ramifications not only for the vampire race, but for the human race as well.
She looked at the ajar door, and wondered if they should just walk in.
“Hello?” Caitlin called out.
She waited a few seconds, her voice echoing. There was no response.
She looked at Caleb. He nodded, and she could tell he also felt they were in the right place. She reached up, lay her palm on the ancient wooden door, and gently pushed it. It creaked as it opened, and they entered the darkened building.
It was cooler in here, protected from the sun, and it took Caitlin a moment for her eyes to adjust. Slowly, they did, and she took in the room before her.
It was magnificent, unlike anything she had ever seen. It wasn’t grand, like so many churches she’d been in; it was actually a humble building, built of marble and limestone, adorned with Roman columns, and with intricate carvings over the ceiling. There were no pews, no places to sit—just a large, open space. At the far end was a simple altar—but instead of a cross above it, there sat a large Star of David. Behind that was a small golden cabinet, with images of two large scrolls carved into it.
Only a few, small arched windows lined the walls, and while sunlight streamed in in places, it was still dim. This place was so silent, so still. Caitlin could only hear the distant crashing of the waves behind her.
Caitlin and Caleb exchanged a glance, then together walked slowly down the aisle, heading towards the altar. As they walked their footsteps reverberated off the marble, and Caitlin couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched.
They reached the end of aisle and stood bef
ore the golden cabinet. Caitlin studied the diagrams etched into the gold: they were so detailed, so intricate, they reminded her of that church in Florence, the Duomo, of its golden doors. It looked as if someone had spent a lifetime carving this one, too. In addition to the images of large scrolls, Hebrew letters were embedded all around it. Caitlin wondered what was inside.
“The Torah,” came a voice.
Caitlin wheeled, shocked to hear another voice. She didn’t understand how anyone could have kept so quiet, managed to avoid her detection—and how anyone could, on top of it, read her mind. Only a very special person could achieve this. Either a vampire. Or a holy person. Or both.
Walking towards them was a man wearing a white robe, hood pulled back, with long, disheveled light brown hair and a beard to match. He had beautiful blue eyes, and a compassionate face, lit up with a smile. He looked ageless, maybe in his 40s, and walked towards them with a slight limp, holding a cane.
“They are the scrolls of the Old Testament. The five books of Moses. That is what lays behind those golden doors, since you were wondering.”
He kept approaching until he was just a few feet away, then stopped before Caitlin and Caleb. He stared right at her, and Caitlin could feel the intensity coming off of him. Clearly this was no ordinary person.
“I am Paul,” he said, not extending his hand, which he rested on his cane.
“I am Caitlin, and this is my husband, Caleb,” she replied.
He smiled widely.
“I know,” he answered.
Caitlin felt foolish. Clearly, this man, able to read her mind so easily, knew a lot more about her than she did about him. It was an eerie feeling, that all these people, in all these centuries and places, knew about her, had all been waiting for her. It made her feel a sense of purpose, a sense of mission, even more. But it also made her even more frustrated that she didn’t know what it was, or where to go next.
“We are sorry to intrude,” Caleb said. “But we were told that Jesus prayed here. That he was here recently. Is that true?”