Once upon a time, in a world so very different, Christianity was not even a whisper on the lips of the oracles. In that time, Greco-Roman gods and goddesses were an accepted and given part of human life. Even before this more formalized and mythic method of worship, humans had found deities of the earth to whom they were connected in magical ways that we in our time consider pagan and ignorant.

There has been within me, since before my birth, a link to a past that is my future.

Inside my mother was the answer to so much I never learned in her lifetime. In her death, some crucial secrets came my way. Cataclysmic understanding of only one thing drove me: I was being hunted not because of any evil on my part, but because conflicting forces in this world held me in some way responsible for my fated purpose. Only Maximus stood with me against men from a force I did not know nor understand fully.

Fools. The gods have their way, even in this day when they are no longer acknowledged. Do we humans think that the evolution of our faith was begat from thin air? Faiths, just like apes, evolve from one incarnation to the next. They are linked. They need each other. Without the ape, would there be humans? Without pagans, would there be prophets? Without idols, would there be gods? Without polytheism, would there be monotheism? Even in Christianity, where one God is revered, that one God is Three.

For as long as I can remember, I have known to never express my opinions on such matters. But the days of this pilgrimage seem to bring me closer and closer to the brink of putting into words that which I have long held within me. Once, my silence served my anonymity, which allowed my survival. But now, the time is coming when it shall be my voice that will fulfill my destiny. And I am coming to the realization that my opinions on religion and beliefs may very well be more instinctive than I had expected.

Mankind needs belief in that which is greater than the sum total of man. He needs a higher being, a better good, paradise, an unearthly place of eternal reward, damnation. Good versus evil...one of those wonderful debates-- would one exist without the other?

In the days of St. John's Revelations, the struggle between Greco-Roman beliefs and Christianity's rise was more than theoretical. It was the fight for man's collective souls. It was a time when mystics traveled to sacred places and made revelations. Within the revelations were allusions that the faithful, to whom the revelations were made, understood without explanation needed. These were the lingo of their faith, the jingoistic shorthand that in modern times can confound even the greatest scholars in their attempts to fully interpret the Book of Revelations written, so Christians believe, by St. John, the beloved disciple of Jesus.

I was raised Catholic. I was born to a pagan. I haphazardly studied the Greco-Roman gods. I have seen so much. I have understood so little. I am perhaps the epitome of skepticism. I am open to many beliefs. How fitting that I am the container in which the mix of mystics and religions that appear at odds are finding the place to mingle. I know only this: there is no single answer. I have a role to fulfill and whether its purpose is ever understood, I will never really know.

In Turkey, the air felt dusty. We did not touch each other as we made our way quietly and without fanfare from the ferry's port. Perhaps this is more Max's way than my own; both the non-touching in public and the desire to be inconspicuous when it is a choice. Remaining inconspicuous has never really been a choice for me; it has been a means of survival.

We had taken the ferry from Patmos to Rhodes. On Rhodes, we had a choice of three Turkish cities to which we could flee: Bodrum, Marmaris or Fethiye. We chose Bodrum; we were advised the transportation options from that port were better.

In Bodrum, I strode behind Maximus from the ferry terminal into a foreign landscape. I watched him as he scanned around us and moved with determination. I sensed that for Max it was never about anything more than seeing to his obligation to protect me until my pilgrimage led us to whatever destiny the shadowy force wished to stop.

He carries himself with a regal militaristic stance. It is the rank, the expectation that he has earned the right to no longer question that he is in charge. If you're a military leader as long as he was, and as successful as he was, why would you not expect this of yourself? It is leadership and people like me respect it.

When he paused on a street corner, I slowed to watch as his eyes traveled left... then right. I saw the rigidity grow more pronounced; it was a signal I was becoming familiar with. It meant that he sensed or saw danger. It meant he was about to make a move that would require me to be ready... to flee, stand pat, take cover, or follow... whatever it was, my only requirement was to let him lead. To trust in him.

His hand motioned me to his side. "We are being followed, Eris," he said softly.

"I know."

"There was someone on the ferry."

"I know. But it's not the same person, is it?"

"No. It is not. So that means there are at least two. I think we should count on there being more."

"What will we do?" But I was not panicking; not yet. My dream from a nap I'd taken not an hour before we alit on Rhodes had calmed my spirit; I could still see a future and had faith we could find a way to be around for it.

"We will hire a taxi. Let us force them to show a stronger hand. And let us remove ourselves from the temptation that a busy street offers them for anonymous mayhem."

The cab ride was uneventful. Only one person still seemed to be shadowing us and he was in a cab behind us. We rode to a tourist hotel that the cab driver, in broken English, told us was safe and comfortable.

We checked in; rode the elevator up; walked down the stairs and left through a rear entrance. Inside another taxi, we both breathed deeply and relaxed for the first time in so long. He could not see anyone following us; I could not feel a hunter's harsh breath upon my neck. The taxi dropped us off at a tour agency where we hired a driver to take us to Kusadasi, just to the north and another port city. But Kusadasi put us within a short car ride to Ephesus, our real destination. There was every reason to be urgent about getting closer to Ephesus; the sooner we learned its revelation, the sooner we could continue. Only by staying fast could we hope to stay ahead of the hunters.

The driver was a young man named Nasuh. He chatted off and on to us all along the road to Kusadasi. I watched the sea on one side and, on the other side, scenes of ordinary people in this ancient land as I listened to his soft voice. It near lulled me into a sort of catatonia. Maximus reached for my hand; his fingers stroked my knuckles. It was the greatest sense of comfort and strength. I turned to gaze upon the visage of my protector and my lover.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the sunblast outside the window to the gloomier interior of the taxi. I studied Max's profile, backlit to show off the lines and planes. He swallowed; his Adam's apple moved slowly in response. I thought I'd never seen anything so masculine. The ligaments in his neck flexed as he carefully turned his chin in my direction. Our eyes met; he gave me a soft grin and squeezed my hand tightly in his.

In his eyes, light flared. Why was it that in this one moment, he'd never seemed more alive, more steadfast, more aware?

I leaned my head against his shoulder and from this safe vantage point, I watched as another world flew past me.

When I was in college, I had spent time in this region as part of a grant-underwritten team of students assisting in an archeological dig. I have never forgotten the feel of the earth in this place. It felt cool even when it was dry from the sun's baking temperatures. I had asked the professor about this phenomenon; he had not understood my question but his response showed me that once again, I felt something that others did not. I never spoke of it again after that.

Nasuh remarked that the hotel in which we were going to stay was one he was quite happy to return to if we should need his services again. As we pulled up to the entrance of the Pine Marina Hotel, he handed Max a business card. He showed the phone numbers... for the travel agency and for his home. Please use them, he told Max; his eyes darted to mine and lingered long enough for me to get a sense of him.

Inside our room, I asked Max if he ever found himself taking an instant sense of comfort from a stranger such as Nasuh. Max said he preferred to judge a person by what they did rather than what they said.

We stood for long moments on the room's balcony and looked over the Basilica of St. John the Evangelist. In the silence between us, I felt an understanding we shared... there are few coincidences in this world and neither of us trusted them.

We were here, a logical place to come next, but also a coincidental continuation of the pilgrimage. It was as if we were following the reverse of the footsteps of St. John. It was from Ephesus that St. John was cast out, only to be exiled on Patmos.

But Ephesus was more than the place where St. John brought the Virgin Mary after the death of her son and ensconced her in a home up on a hill near Seluck overlooking the lands of Ephesus. It is more than where he wrote his Gospel of the Virgin Mary. It is also where St. Paul lived and preached for two years. It is where St. Paul so railed against a local wealthy merchant's business of creating silver icons of the goddess Diana that a near riot ensued in retaliation.

It is still more than that, though. Long, long before Christianity, Ephesus was one of the most important cities in the Roman Empire; it was the bridge between Asia and Europe in that time. It was home to great buildings, art, culture and incredible wealth. It was once a bustling trading port; but the river silted over and the coastline shifted, as sometimes happens, and it is now miles from the sea and its river no longer near the port. When I was in this land before, I remembered the sense of the past I gained each moment I spent near Ephesus. It had never dawned on me that this might mean something important.

When it had been revealed within my vision that I was to go to Ephesus, its connection to my own line was made clear to me. And with that clarity had come a revelation I had least expected... and about which I had not spoken with Max.

Ephesus is part of the past; that it is part of the future I must brace, is fitting. The Oracle of Delphi dictated the layout of Ephesus. From its main gate to its central boulevard lined with shops and marble colonnades; to its grand agora to the magnificent two-story Library of Celsus; from the Street of Curetes to the Grand Theater... even away from this, to the hill on which the Temple of Hadrian was built... all of this, some woman in my line foresaw and advised. I could not help but be moved by this the closer I came to a tangible touch with my ancestors.

It had been awkward for me, but I had shared with Maximus an element of the revelation on Patmos. Why this was such a difficult discussion to have with Max, I am not positive other than it was chilling to speak aloud about something that other people would have thought me mad to believe. Perhaps, though, he had already guessed it, for Maximus is, of course, more conversant than I would ever be with gods and goddesses and their ways. The one god who would have been most duty-bound to protect my line... this was who had sent Max to me as his surrogate in that responsibility. Apollo. And in Ephesus, there was a link to Apollo that my vision directed me toward.

Apollo had slain Pythos upon the sacred mountain in Greece and then sanctified himself in Crete in the hopes of making amends. It was the gift of prophecy he sought; it was the gift he gave my line of mothers when he established the temple at Delphi upon the site where he killed Pythos. Apollo made a firm oath; the Oracle of Delphi was always under his protection. If now the oracle was in danger, would Apollo do any less than select a worthy warrior to protect her in a world where the gods could no longer be seen or, apparently, wield their power?

In the revelation on Patmos, I came into an understanding that Ephesus was more than our next stop on the pilgrimage. It was its position as a location of one of the Seven Churches of Asia Minor, so critical to the Christian faith, as well as its status to the Roman Empire, and the Greco-Roman spiritual beliefs, that was a key. Was this a struggle between faiths? Was it about the tenuous evolution from Greco-Roman gods to Christian God? Or was it a recognition that everything is interconnected with the Mother Earth?

Ephesus, long before Christianity, was an important home to temples of several gods and goddesses, including a temple to Artemis.

Artemis.

That night, I dreamed of her.

She was Apollo's sister. She was, as so many other goddesses, a protector or symbol of many things. In my dream, she touched my belly and then my heart. She touched my face with her forefinger and then showed me that upon its tip were tears from my own eyes. I woke with a start.

Some sixth sense in Maximus seemed to understand that in this troubled moment, I would relish his touch. He turned in his sleep and gathered me close to him. I was scared. The day loomed before me in that early morning hour; I hoped I could make it through to another morning.

When he woke hours later, I had fallen into a fitful slumber. I felt him shift; I felt his warm, rough hand touch my breasts, fondle each one in turn. I sighed to him; I opened my eyes when his lips took mine.

He smelled of warm male musk. He felt languid, unhurried, relentless, careful. He moved as if he worshipped my body. The night before's lusty release had given way to an open need to begin this day with the union of our bodies to lay testament to our unity of purpose.

Men have touched me before; of course, I was not a virgin when I met Max. But none had given me the essence of pure male that he gave me; and never before had I felt the ability to be only a woman... to receive his gift and to give him mine.

Maximus called up instincts within me that I had never acknowledged but had known were there.

My fingers moved the sheet from him even as he moved against me. His body heat and friction made me sweat. The cotton of the sheet in my hand was soft as I inched it from his back even as his mouth suckled into my breasts. My hand tangled in its folds; my fingers bunched and gripped and felt the tension within me erupt until I was biting Max's neck.

He gave this guttural groan in response; his fingers invaded me below. So slow. So deep. He told me that I would writhe beneath him in that morning; that I would understand the power I held; that I would dance as a woman should when with him.

These mutterings of Maximus... how they sounded to me... as if he could simply not help himself for the ardor of his being.

I did writhe beneath him. I did dance. I did indeed feel the power of my orgasm. I felt his response... the manner in which it seemed he went deeper, yet never losing the gentle, persistent pace of his body into mine. My hands were pressed in tight across his back. When he came, those last powerful thrusts, I remarked to myself how I must remember this sense of him... the twin elements of his strength and his passion. His back muscles flexing and tensing under my hands spoke to me of his strength. My chest pressed in tightly to his as he erupted inside me, gave me the feel of the thudding beat of his heart as eloquent witness of his passion.

It is in this type of moment with Max that I often feel transported from my own body. It is as if I become nothing but spirit, able to absorb details of light, shadow, temperature, taste, sounds... as if I am observer only, rather than equal participant. I was aware of odd things in moments like this... and they sometimes came to me later when I would think on it. For instance, when I was showering later, I shampooed my hair and my fingers held the corporal memory of the way the sheet had felt in my hands so distinctly that I was surprised to open my eyes and find my hands were stroking my wet hair instead.

We were going to hire another driver to take us the miles to Ephesus from the hotel in the nearby city of Kusadasi. But as we entered the lobby, a familiar voice greeted us. Nasuh, our driver from the day before, presented himself to Maximus.

"I was certain you would be in need of my services," he said to Max.

"Indeed?" Max replied, his hand instinctively pulling me in close even as his eyes darted about the lobby. "And why would you think this?"

"I heard you talking. You said you would be going to Ephesus today. Obviously, you will need a guide of both capability and knowledge. Who else but me?"

I laughed; it was unbidden but it was sincere. In Turkey, I was always taken aback with how aggressive the merchants are in this manner. Nasuh looked at me; he returned my smile but there was some sense of him imparted with that look that seemed anything but amused. It was more like he felt comfort. I cannot explain it better than that.

"We can trust him," I said to Max when I pulled him aside to see what he was thinking. To be honest, I was not relishing having to make our way from the hotel to push through the persistent street vendors who laid in wait to peddle scarves and perfume and personal services. Maximus pursed his lips as he considered. Then they haggled over the price of having Nasuh stay with us for the day.

The drive from Kusadasi to Ephesus was breathtaking. The ten-mile trip is over a road that twists and turns around hills, giving unexpected, wondrous glimpses of the sea before weaving back through rocky terrain. In Ephesus, Nasuh had a patter about each place we drove past. He took us first past the house of the Virgin Mary. I wanted to get out, to simply experience it again. Max indulged me but I could tell it made him increasingly nervous.

In the ancient city of Ephesus, Nasuh showed us the section of the city's wall known as St. Paul's Prison before parking near the established main entrance to the historical sites. And though they be historical, they are not deserted by modern merchants. We were bombarded by peddlers from Nasuh's vehicle to the entrance, where we could pay our fee and leave the cacophony behind. Maximus pressed ahead and pulled me along with him. Once inside the gates, we did not slow perceptively. At the Library of Celsius, I was given brief moments to study the second floor of columns, tattered ruins... a sense of omnipresence... magnificent and imposing... grandeur that still flowed. Then Max pressed me to continue on with him.

Along the Street of Curetes, we paused to try to get our bearings. I did not know where to go, but I also believed I would simply find my way somehow once I was in this ancient city; I assumed it would be obvious. All my vision had shown me was the realization that I had to go to Ephesus. Beyond that, I suddenly realized, details had been miserably lacking.

"Where now?" Maximus asked me as I looked first one way, then the other.

I shrugged at him; his eyes turned hard. "I don't honestly know. I thought I might... maybe there will be a sign?"

He pursed his lips and looked around; his annoyance and unease were as apparent as if he was standing there yelling at me. I shuffled and looked down at my feet.

"What's this, you suppose?" I asked him suddenly. "Maybe this is the sign? Look... it's a foot! It points this way. See, Max? Maybe..."

"Eris," he said in this low growl. I glanced up at him as I stooped to stroke the outline of an adult male's footprint that had been etched in the stone of the street. He shook his head at me.

"Why can't it be a sign, Max? We have been taking leaps of faith all along... why not now? Nothing else is occurring to either of us, is it?"

"It is a sign, Eris, but not of... It is not a sign meant for you, my lady." His smile at me was so unexpected.

"Then what is it?"

"It is simply an old directional sign to... Never mind. Eris, concentrate and do not let it distract you." But he was suddenly shifting about and trying to draw me away. I refused to budge. He sighed and raised his eyes to the sky.

"What is it a sign for? Who knows what we're looking for here. Maybe this is where we should go. Maybe we paused here on purpose just to see this and to follow it. Why not?"

He bit his lip then motioned me next to him so he could speak without being overheard. His hand stroked down my arm. "This is a sign found in many Roman cities... a man's foot... Eris, it points the way to a brothel."

"A brothel? You're joking."

The absurdity of that thought... that I looked for a sign and found this particular one... pointing to a place of pleasure rather than a place with some religious significance in which I would have a spiritual vision. Our eyes met; we could not help the release of laughter. The tension of the moment fled. I wiped tears from my eyes as Maximus played at the outline with the toe of his shoe.

"Why a foot?" I asked him. I teased him by adding, "Why would a man's foot be associated with a brothel? You would imagine another body part might be more appropriate. Was this a rather kinky place?"

"The idea is that you measure your own foot against it." He spoke low to me; his voice was deep. I looked down as he carefully placed his foot next to the etching. His foot was considerably longer and wider than the carved foot. Even without his shoe on, it would have dwarfed the imprint in the stone. "If your foot is smaller than the carving, then, don't bother going to the brothel. You are either a boy or a man not worthy of the women there."

"Oh. I see." I looked up at him. I swallowed hard at the look of pride on his face. He had seen exactly what my thought process had been. Maximus is not a man given to false pride. "Well, I would guess that you're right. I doubt I was meant to go to the brothel for the next vision."

Some intuition seemed to come to me in that moment of the release of what had been such crippling tension. Perhaps the brief moment of levity between Max and I had allowed me to be more open to the instinct that told me to simply go in the direction I was facing. It was not in the direction the carved foot was pointing.

As we passed the Theater, with its long palladium flanked by imposing columns where a riot nearly enveloped St. Paul, I grew agitated again but did not know why.  Maximus watched me closely. Do you feel anything, I mouthed to him. He shook his head.

As we continued on, I reminded Max of the Roman roads we trod when we first met. His hand stroked down my cheek. That simple gesture distracted me. It stilled me.

"My memories of you, Eris, live forever," he said softly. His deep voice seemed all the huskier within the beauty of antiquity.

"One day, our memories of this time will bring us joy for how we found each other," I said to him. "And we will know that this experience was but the beginning for us."

"I am sure of it, my lady. Such is the truth of things, I believe. You face up to your destiny. It becomes the measure of you. And in you, Eris, I have found my measure."

Maximus heard the shuffle of feet long before I did. We had continued on, down an alley that ran beyond the Theater. We came into a small square, defined by tall Italian cypress and neat stones. He gripped my hand in his and moved forward at a pace I found faster than seemed necessary. But when his hand reached to touch the handle of a large knife he'd taken to wearing since Patmos, I looked around wildly for danger.

"Just look ahead, Eris. Pretend you simply wish to see this building before us. Do not hesitate, just keep walking with me."

"Max, we're going the wrong way," I said as he pushed me ahead of him into another alley.

"Which is the correct way?" he asked me this as he peered behind him; there was irritation in his voice. He turned finally to glance at me, his eyebrows raised. "Well? A moment ago, you said you were uncertain exactly where we would go... what has changed?"

"There's another temple. One that is not in the guide they gave us at the gate."

He tilted his head at me. "Where is it?"

"I wasn't certain... but I caught a glimpse of stones with a blue cast down the other alley and... it's to our east."

We were heading west.

"Blue? The place has..."

Before he could finish, feet scuffled toward us, down the alley. Max took my hand and we ran. I had not an idea of where we were going; I don't know that Max did, either. He was taking us away from danger, that was all I knew.

The alley ended in a wide space gay with stalls of a market. We did not run in the market; Maximus instead wove us quickly and relentlessly down rows, across cross rows, in shops and out... until we found ourselves following another alley, this one more crowded with other people. He turned us down an intersecting alley, through a smaller atrium, weaving a route that it seemed impossible for any followers to pick up. We stopped for so long on a corner where we were able to hover within a doorway and observe movement around us.

When he was convinced we were no longer being followed, he put both hands on my shoulders and asked me which way we should proceed. I absorbed his faith in me. I closed my eyes and felt the path open up.

It took us fifteen minutes of steady walking before we stood before the building whose stones were white with a bluish cast. I knew what it was the moment I touched the stones.

"It's a temple of Artemis," I told Max. It startled him. "I sense safety and reason within."

Inside, oil lamps in recesses in the walls lit the place. Maximus stood at the entrance as I wandered around. My fingers stroked the wood of benches and the stone of a central, circular area. I gasped when the monk from Patmos emerged from a shadow I had not thought to peer into.

"What you seek is here. You have done well, priestess, to find this spiritual place," the monk said.

Maximus pulled me back hard and inserted his imposing body between me and the monk. In his other hand, Max held the knife in a gesture of pure, intended menace. "Show your hands," he growled out.

The monk slowly moved his hands from beneath the folds of the heavy brown robe he wore. They were empty. "If I may?" he said softly as his hands pulled the cowl down. With the hood removed, I was able to see his face as I edged around Max.

"Oh my God. You!" I cried out. I jumped back. "Max, this is the young man from the airport. The one on my plane. The one I told you about. In London. Remember?"

He was on the monk instantly. Max's forearm crashed in on the monk's throat as his body shoved him to the stone wall, back into the shadow.

"Allow me to explain," the monk gasped out. "I am here to help. I..."

"Shut up," Maximus grated out. "Eris... there may be others... look around and..."

"It's only me here," the monk wheezed. "Release me. Eris! I was there to serve you. I serve you still. I served your mother. If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it in Captiva!"

Max turned to glance at me. My mouth was open in shock... the monk's words... my mother... I don't know why... something told me to hear him out. I advanced until I could see clearly into the shadow. The monk's eyes were on me, not Maximus. "What do you mean, you served my mother?"

As soon as Max's arm eased off his throat, the monk coughed and sputtered. In a shaky voice, he said, "There are others within our order... our purpose is to serve the Oracle's purpose. We have been searching for you ever since her death. I believed you would come to her home on Captiva. The others did not agree."

"You were not on Captiva."

"You did not see me on Captiva. There is a difference," he said, his voice now steady.

Max and I exchanged a look. He took two steps back from the monk, took my arm and moved me behind him. "Explain yourself," Max told him. "And be swift with your words. Eris has more patience than I do."

"Since the days of Apollo, members of our order of priests have served the Oracle of Delphi. We are the ones who bore her riddles after the rites to those waiting to hear her prophecies. In actuality, we served her temple and her person. When that day came when the belief in the Oracle melted into near nothingness among mortals, it never waned in us. We continue our duty to the Oracle, to bear witness through the ages... they have been lonely years. However, they have had periods of extreme danger..."

"Were you bodyguards, then?"

"When we could. When the danger was too grave, Apollo sent a protector. Such as he sent you."

I touched Maximus and found his hand; we clasped each other's warmth.

"The danger is as grave as when the Knights Templar last tried to track the Oracle's talismans and tools. They knew not that her line continued; if they had, as your hunters do now, it might have changed so much."

"But the Knights Templar... you're talking the Middle Ages?"

"All will be given back to you in the course of the revelations, Eris," the monk said. "You have proven to me that you are who I thought you were. If you had lived with your mother, you would know all this; she would have taught you. But the revelations will teach you even as they prepare you for the one prophecy you will make that those hunting you wish to prevent."

"Proven myself to you?"

"Patmos... that you knew to go there might have been a coincidence. Who doesn't think of Patmos when thinking of revelations? But that you came to Ephesus... that you understand your pilgrimage's path explores that unique time when Christianity was ascending over our ancient beliefs, which is when the Oracle went into hiding... and in this, the battlefield of that mighty struggle, that this is where you have come based on nothing but faith in a vision? That is telling. I knew when you saw the fissure as blue... but my fellow priests needed more."

"And now that you have this proof?" Max asked. "I am to take this paltry evidence you give us in return and allow you close enough to Eris to harm her? Or did you think to propose that you would join me in keeping her safe?"

"We are as nothing against those against us for they are formidable and many. But at least we are more than two," the monk told Max, his message delivered in a manner meant to chide Maximus for his suspicions that the monk was not to be trusted. "And we know things that they only guess."

"So Eris has proven herself to you..."

"As you have, Maximus."

"The question for us, however, is this. How will you prove yourself worthy of our trust?"

"Eris will know. I had not thought to expose myself to her until after her next revelation." He looked between us. "Has she told you, Maximus, that within the first revelation there were three portions? One was a truth about her line's origins; one was a sight into an event happening at the same time as her trance; the third was a vision of a future event."

"She told me all I needed to know."

"Does he know you saw him upon the path as he killed your enemies?" the monk asked me.

Max turned then to stare into me. I felt heat gather inside my body. "How could you know that?" I asked the monk. "Only Max and I knew..."

"You were in a trance. The Oracle speaks to the priest within the trance. We do not always understand her meanings; but we are there to witness."

In Patmos, I had felt the monk's presence. He had told me when it was safe to come out of the trance. But neither Maximus nor I had seen him then. Yet... how could he know these things else wise?

"Max? What is your counsel?" I whispered to him.

"Vigilance," he answered softly, his lips grazing across my forehead even as his hand pulled me just that much closer to him. "We remain cautious and trust only ourselves. But for now... perhaps we can learn more about those who hunt you."

"Artemis provides a shield for you while you remain within these walls," the monk said. "My fellow priests are ahead, preparing the way for you, Eris. We can advise you on..."

"We have traveled a long way without your help, Priest," Maximus interrupted him. His voice dropped into a threatening growl. "If you have a service to provide Eris, let it be done. One false move, however... I will be ruthless with you or any other who threatens her."

"I was with you each step of the way, Eris. But my role was not the one given your protector. It was to facilitate and ease your visions. My duty is sacred. But know this... we would give our lives for you. We have done so for others of your line."

In the space of time the monk was with us, I had felt a gathering sense of a line being crossed. From this step forward, there would be help... but for every person who joined us, it increased our visibility to those seeking traces of our presence. It made sense to me that if the Oracle's line had been preserved, so too must the priests of the temple at Delphi. Their charge had been to tend the temple and to convey the Oracle's prophecies. Through all the years between the temple's desertion and now, if they served my ancestors, then they held knowledge I craved. Yet, I did not want to be so taken in by my desire that this be true as to forget that bold lies may be the trap that would snare me.

Standing there, tucked inside a temple dedicated to Artemis and standing next to the one man that I knew with absolute belief would give his life to protect me, I felt a sense of myself. And, with that, I felt a need grow inside me to have done with my purpose for being in this city.

Releasing Max's hand, I turned to survey this room again. The man I thought of as the monk but who was really a Delphic priest, watched me intently. For his own part, Maximus was also studying this temple's room. He searched for hidden dangers or vulnerabilities.

On the wall near the priest, there was an open doorway disguised within a lingering shadow of blue. As I approached it, the priest smiled at me and gestured for me to enter.

It led to a smaller chamber in which the foundation had been recently swept. Upon one wall, a tapestry of Artemis. Upon the facing wall, one of Apollo. Each was lit by its own golden candlestick. I remembered seeing seven of them in my first vision; I'd never thought the candlesticks meant anything. But this instilled a new lesson within me: there would be details of each vision that might escape me but that might be portends of importance. I lectured myself to pay attention to those details; to remark upon them to Max and this priest, for perhaps their meaning would come to one of us and make sense from chaos, or simply point the way forward when nothing else was clear enough.

I looked around the room, suddenly interested in details. Crescent moons had been dug at odd places within the stone floor of the foundation. The central one was largest by far; it was large enough that I could stand within its confines. I walked to it and noted the edges of the design fairly glowed in blue light.

"Gaia, I am here again," I whispered. "Guide me, mother. I serve your needs in this time."

Without hesitation, I lowered myself to my knees within the blue edges of the moon. A light cloud of wispy blue smoke gathered around me, slinking about where I waited. The air seemed almost too heavy; I heard Max's voice as if from far away.

"What do you see?" the priest asked me.

"Nothing," I said. But then I touched the stone of the foundation. A cool wave passed up my arm, to my body, overtaking me. "Oh. Wait... Oh."

My mother was with me. From her, I learned I could trust the priest. From her, I learned not all the priests would be those in whom I could place total trust.

Another lesson was imparted to me. Those hunting me were driven by a belief that destroying my ability to make the prophecy would destroy the future I would foretell.

"So whether I prophesize or not, it will come to pass?" I asked her.

"More than that is at stake, Eris. Not every truth is absolute; not every prophecy will be clear. Your prophecy can be a warning to avoid, change this future. Such is always perilous. Humans so often do not understand that even by doing what they believe will avoid their fate, they are writing it. But Gaia fears for her children. You represent hope. Never forget this."

"Why would I?"

"You may find your belief in your role will be shaken. Your role is neither good nor bad; you are the messenger. Within each prophecy of doom, there is hope. There may be a false priest who will have an unexpected manner in which to convince you of plausible lies. You must not believe him."

"I promise."

I felt the touch of her embrace for long, long moments after she left me. When she was gone, I felt myself floating, as if detached from my mortal form. I could see Maximus and the priest... his name was Jacob... below me. Voices called my attention away from these two men, hovering near my body. I wanted to stay; I wanted to comfort Max... I could see his concern for me. I could see the rigid posture, the firm alertness for danger. Within me was a feeling of dread and it centered on Max and it was immediate. I wanted to stay there.

But I could not. I found myself outside the temple of Artemis and from the rooftop, I looked down upon a gathering force of seven men. Upon their chests, they each had a splotch of red, but it was not blood. It symbolized something but I did not understand it.

And then I was seeing out of eyes not my own, just as I had in the first vision when I had seen out of Max's eyes. I knew I was in the body of one of the men in this force coming to annihilate me. I could hear thoughts that belonged to someone else and realized they were those of the man in whose body I was. He seemed aware that I was there, inside him, where Max had never once sensed my spirit. This man spoke to me by name. He promised to let Maximus live if I surrendered that day.

But he would not allow me to live.

I felt myself shudder out of him; my will was stronger than his. This awareness rushed from him and returned to my body. I opened my eyes but Gaia called me back.

"Your vision," she said calmly, as if it was not a gift she gave me but a duty. 

I went willingly into what she sent me. It was dark and I could not define the spaces. It was a void so deep, so absolute. The number 180 spiraled inside my brain. I felt weak with the destruction, the absence... but knew not what had been destroyed. I wept. The earth and man, Gaia told me, must be protected. But the way will not be clear; the sacrifice will not be made willingly; and the way forward will be marked by those who would destroy it.

"You must survive; you must continue," she said to me. "Accept the gift of this temple and know it is a mark of the gods that you do their bidding. It represents the gods' faith in you, my child. It is your future beyond but it comes at a price."

I looked into the eyes of Artemis at that moment. She did not smile at me. She pointed to the east. I knew the next part of my pilgrimage but I knew more than that.

"It's safe to leave your vision, Eris."

I came to with a start. It was like leaving a bottomless pit only to be ejected out into the light of the earth.

Maximus was holding me; I buried my face in his chest.

"Jacob, it's not safe. There are seven men outside." 

"There is another way out. One they do not know," Jacob said.

"Let us leave now," Max said.

"Not yet," I said. "I must make an offering to Artemis before we go. And in return, we will take the candlesticks with us."

A tunnel connected the temple's inner sanctum with an outbuilding that was nothing more than a storage shed. Jacob left first as his visage, we presumed, was less likely to be known by those waiting for us. He would be Max's scout and we waited his return for only a short period.

"If I give myself to them, they will spare you," I told Max softly as soon as Jacob left. Maximus stood at the rough door, his ear pressed to where he held it just open. At my words, he turned to regard me. "It was in my vision. There is one amongst them now whom I fear because I saw his thoughts. But I trust his words; he knew I was there with him in the vision. This is the only way to be sure that you survive, Max."

"And you believe I would for one moment consider this, Eris?" he asked me. His voice was low; there was a steel there that, for all it frightened me to see directed at me, gave me an incredible sense of Max, the formidable opponent.

"No. I simply thought you should be aware of him. I don't know his name yet, but he knows, Max. He knows I love you that much that this would be something potent to offer me. Does that not give you insight into this man?"

His eyes studied me. I watched so many emotions pass across his face. I thought of only one thing: how I loved him with a depth and clarity that nearly overwhelmed me.

When his arm raised to me, I went to him and let him draw me into his protective hold. His mouth came upon mine. It was not a kiss of supreme lust; it was a kiss of possession. I remembered something he'd said to me in London, during a moment of passion. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him. We clung to each other there.

"I will not fail you, Eris."

And I thought of Gaia's words... a gift from the gods; a price that would be dear.