When he reached the church, he yanked open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. The rafters were burning, and embers glowed on the floor. Directly behind the altar, fire flowed up the walls like shimmering lines of water.

Gabriel walked up the central aisle and stopped when he saw the passageway that floated on the surface of a stained-glass window. Had his brother already crossed over? If that was true, then Michael could be in any of the six realms. He could search for hundreds of years and never find him.

The door squeaked on its iron hinges and Michael entered the church. He stopped when he saw Gabriel and smiled slightly. Even in this place, he played the role of the confident older brother.

“Why are you standing there? Take the passageway.”

“I’m staying here with you, Michael.”

Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled between the pews as if he was a tourist visiting a minor attraction.

“I’ve experienced the whole cycle in this barrier. Everything burns down, and then it reappears again.”

“I know.”

“There’s no food in this place. No water. We have to cross over and move on.”

“That’s not going to happen, Michael. You’re like a virus that infects everyone who comes near you.”

“I’m a Traveler-just like you. Only I just see things as they are.”

“And that means killing children?”

“If that’s necessary…”

The altar caught fire, dry wood crackling as it burned. Gabriel looked behind him and saw fire touch the dead roses held in a copper vase. The flowers shriveled slightly and were transformed into tiny points of flame.

When he turned back around, Michael was standing on a bench, trying to climb onto the frame of the stained-glass window. Gabriel sprinted across the room, grabbed his brother, and they fell onto the floor. Kicking and punching, Michael tried to break free while Gabriel held him tightly. They rolled sideways, knocking over the benches, and Michael rammed his elbow into his brother’s chest. He jumped up and scrambled back to the window. This time, he stacked up the benches and formed an improvised platform.

“You can stay here!” Michael screamed. “Stay here forever!” A ceiling beam broke away from the wall. It twisted as it fell, flinging off sparks, then hit Michael’s shoulder and knocked him to the floor. He lay stunned for a few seconds as another beam fell and then a third. Michael pushed his palms flat and tried to get up, but the weight held him down.

Gabriel saw the hate and rage in his brother’s eyes. He knew that he couldn’t save Michael, nor could he leave him to die. Sitting on the floor, Gabriel crossed his legs and waited. He accepted the moment, accepted it so completely that it felt as if all his questions had been answered. Breathe. Breathe again. And a luminous field appeared in front of him, infinite, expanding, accepting.

***

The only two streets in the town met at a central square with park benches and a stone obelisk covered with a circle, a triangle and a pentagram. Anyone standing by this memorial would have watched the final moments of the conflagration when flames cracked windows and burned their way through doors. Finally, the buildings themselves began to collapse, the burning timbers unable to hold the weight of the upper floors. The church with its wooden pillars and white copula was the last to go. It seemed to explode from within, creating a point of energy as bright and powerful as a new sun.

45

There was no air conditioning in their apartment in Rome -just a collection of antique electric fans. A fan occupied a side table in each of the eight rooms, and Alice Chen had decorated them with red and blue ribbons that rippled in the air whenever the blades were spinning.

Because of the September heat, they woke up early in the morning. Priest pushed the living room couches and club chairs against the wall and turned the area into a gym. After drinking two cups of espresso, he did his push-ups and stomach crunches on the white marble floor, then ran through a complicated series of martial arts exercises. When he was done with his own workout, he started Alice ’s karate lessons.

Now that she was seven months pregnant, Maya found it difficult to jump and kick, so she sat on a yoga mat, stretched her muscles, and offered advice. She and Priest would finish the morning workout sparring with kendo swords. She felt fat and awkward, but her reaction time hadn’t changed, and she knew a wide range of fakes and maneuvers. In a ten minute session, she could usually block Priest’s attack and jab him with her bamboo blade.