hands. Abby felt a wave of loneliness, which she tried to push aside by fiddling with her camera. She knew she was still weepy and emotional from yesterday’s ordeal. How long would it take her to get over the shock of Mr. Rosen’s death? And how long until it no longer hurt to be reminded of Mark?
As the bus parked, she glimpsed the sea again, sparkling in the distance beyond a cluster of ruined buildings. Hannah and Ari were already waiting for the group beside his car, and Abby felt pleased to see Hannah, as if they were old friends, already linked by yesterday’s violent tragedy. She quickly climbed off the bus and hurried over to where Hannah stood studying a map Ari had spread out on the hood of his car. Hannah’s gestures were so graceful, the way she carried herself in her long caftan so elegant, that once again Abby thought she resembled a celestial being or a figure from a dream. The contrast was especially great as she stood beside Ari, who was as ruggedly solid as a bronze statue.
“Good morning,” Abby said.
Hannah looked up, and for the space of a heartbeat, her face wore an odd expression, as if something about Abby’s appearance had startled her. It quickly disappeared, replaced by her warm smile.
“Abby! You look well rested this morning.” But before they could speak further, Dr. Voss interrupted them, charging off the bus like an angry bull. He was dripping with perspiration once again.
“We need to talk, Hannah . . . alone.”
“Of course, Ted.” Hannah finished folding the map and handed it to Ari. “Would you please take everyone through the Crusader ruins for me, Ari, and get the lecture started? I’ll meet up with you in the amphitheater.”
Ari appeared startled and a little annoyed. “But I . . .”
“Please, Ari?” Hannah begged.
Ari glanced at Dr. Voss, then called to the milling group, “This way, please. Everyone follow me.” He set off at a brisk pace, and Abby hurried with the rest of the group to keep up with his long-legged stride.
“I wonder why Dr. Voss is so angry,” one of the students said as she walked beside Abby.
“Well, I think his nose is a little out of joint,” Abby replied.
Ari whirled around, frowning. “His nose is what?”
Abby laughed, guessing at the picture in Ari’s mind. “Sorry, it’s just a stupid expression. Dr. Voss didn’t know you had joined the dig, Ari, until I mentioned your name yesterday. He didn’t seem pleased that you were . . . invading his territory.” When Ari didn’t respond, Abby tried making light of it. “You know, Dr. Voss also thinks you’re dead.”
“Dead!”
“Yeah, he said he heard a rumor that Ari Bazak, the young hotshot archaeologist, had died a few years ago. It must have been a terrible shock for him to see your ghost.” She grinned, but Ari didn’t. “I’ve noticed that Dr. Voss is just a wee bit ab-sentminded,” she said. “He’s the one who booked me on a flight that didn’t exist, remember?”
Ari gave Abby a curious look before bringing the group to a halt inside a ruined building. He began addressing the students without further comment. While he may not have been much of a conversationalist, Abby saw right away that he was a gifted teacher. His descriptions brought history to life, and even the travel-weary college students paid rapt attention.
Abby decided that reading about the Crusades in textbooks couldn’t compare with standing beneath their vaulted archways or looking out from their battlements. She wandered through the one-thousand-year-old ruins with a sense of awe, reminding herself that this was only the first day of her month-long tour. Then Ari guided them through the remains of Caesarea, explaining how King Herod’s engineers had created the seaport city more than two thousand years ago. Two thousand years! Abby couldn’t comprehend it. The oldest artifacts she had seen in America were only centuries old, not millennia.
“As a ruler, Herod was a brutal
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