“Where’s Scarlet?” he asked, reading her mind as always.
Caitlin turned and ran to every corner of the cave, searching the dark crevices, looking for any outline, any shape, any sign of Scarlet. But there was none. She searched frantically, crisscrossing the cave with Caleb, canvassing every inch of it.
But Scarlet was not here. She was simply not here.
Caitlin’s heart sank. How could it be? How was it possible that she and Caleb made the trip back, but that Scarlet did not? Could destiny be that cruel?
Caitlin turned and ran for the sunlight, for the exit of the cave. She had to go outside, to see what was out there, to see if there was any sign of Scarlet. Caleb ran beside her, and the two of them ran to the lip of the cave, out into the sun, and stood at its entrance.
Caitlin stopped short, and just in time: a small platform jutted out from the cave, then fell off, straight down a steep mountain face. Caleb stopped short beside her. There they were, standing on a narrow ledge, looking down. Somehow, Caitlin realized, they’d landed back in time inside a mountain cave, hundreds of feet high. There was no way up or down. And if they took one more step, they would plummet hundreds of feet below.
Spread out below them was an enormous valley, stretching to the horizon as far as the eye could see. It was a rural, desert landscape, dotted with rocky outcroppings, and the occasional palm tree. In the distance were rolling hills, and directly beneath them was a small village, comprised of small stone houses and dirt streets. It was even hotter here in the sun, unbearably bright and hot. Caitlin was beginning to realize that they were in a very different place and climate than Scotland. And judging from how rudimentary that village looked, they were in a very different time, too.
Interspersed between all the dirt and sand and rock, there were signs of agriculture, occasional patches of green. Some of these were covered with vineyards, growing in neat rows down the steep slopes, and among these were trees Caitlin could not recognize: small, ancient-looking trees with twisted branches and silver leaves that shimmered in the sun.
“Olive trees,” Caleb said, reading her mind again.
Olive trees? Caitlin wondered. Where on earth could we be?
She looked over at Caleb, sensing he might recognize the place and time. She saw his eyes open wide, and knew that he did. And that he was surprised.
He stared out at the vista as if he’d returned to a long-lost friend.
“Where are we?” she asked, almost afraid to know.
As Caleb slowly surveyed the valley before them, Caitlin had never seen him look so surprised. Finally, he turned and looked at her.
Softly, he said: “Nazareth.”
He paused, taking it all in.
“And judging from that village, we’re in the first century. In fact,” he said, turning and looking at her in awe, his eyes alight with excitement, “it looks like we might even be in the time of Christ.”
CHAPTER TWO
Scarlet felt a tongue licking her face and slowly opened her eyes to blinding sunlight. The tongue would not stop, and before she even looked over, she knew it was Ruth. She opened her eyes just enough to see that it was her: Ruth was leaning over, whining, and grew even more excited as Scarlet opened her eyes.
Scarlet felt a stab of pain as she tried to open her eyes further; struck by the blinding sunlight, her eyes teared up, more sensitive than ever. She had a bad headache, and peeled open her eyes just enough to she was lying on a cobblestone street somewhere. People rushed by, walking past her, and she could tell she was in the midst of a busy city. People hurried to and fro, bustling in every direction, and she could hear the din of a crowd in midday. As Ruth whined and whined, she sat there, trying to remember, trying to figure out where she was. But she had no idea.
Before Scarlet could get her mind around what had happened, she suddenly felt a foot prodding her in the ribs.
“Move on!” came a deep voice. “You can’t sleep here.”
Scarlet looked over and saw a Roman sandal near her face. She looked up, and saw a Roman soldier standing over her, dressed in a short tunic, a belt around his waist, from which hung a short sword. He wore a small brass helmet with feathers on it.
He leaned over and nudged her again with his foot. It hurt Scarlet’s stomach.
“Did you hear what I said? Move on, or I’m locking you up.”
Scarlet wanted to listen, but as she opened her eyes further, the sun hurt them so much, and she was so disoriented. She tried to get to her feet, but felt as if she were moving in slow motion.
The soldier leaned back to really kick her hard in the ribs. Scarlet saw it coming, and braced herself, unable to react quickly enough.
But Scarlet heard a snarl, and looked over to see Ruth, hair standing up on her back, lunge at the soldier. Ruth caught his ankle in mid-air, digging her sharp fangs into it with all she had.
The soldier screamed, and his screams filled the air as blood poured from his ankle.
Ruth would not let go, shaking it with all she had, and the soldier’s expression, so haughty a moment before, now turned to one of fear.
He reached down, into his scabbard, and extracted his sword. He lifted it high and prepared to bring it down on Ruth’s back.
That was when Scarlet felt it. It was like a force taking over her body, as if another power, another entity, were inside her. Without realizing what she was doing, she suddenly felt herself burst into action. She couldn’t control it, and she didn’t understand what was happening.
Scarlet jumped to her feet, heart pounding with adrenaline, and managed to grab the soldier’s wrist in midair, just as he was bringing down his sword. She felt power coursing through her, a power she had never known, as she held his arm. Even with all his strength, he could not budge.
She squeezed his wrist, and managed to squeeze it hard enough that, as he looked down at her in shock, he finally dropped his sword. It landed on the cobblestone with a clang.
“It’s OK, Ruth,” Scarlet said softly, and Ruth gradually let go of her grip on his ankle.
Scarlet stood there, holding the soldier’s wrist, keeping him locked in her deadly embrace.
“Please, let me go,” he pleaded.
Scarlet felt the power coursing through her, felt that, if she wanted, she could really hurt him. But she didn’t want to. She just wanted to be left alone.
Slowly, Scarlet released her grip and let him go.
The soldier, fear in his eyes, looking as if he’d just encountered a demon, turned and ran away, not even bothering to retrieve his sword.