Adria glanced into the bowl, seeing the vague outline of her reflection. Her mother’s facial features and her father’s eyes stared back at her. What an unholy fucked-up mess the two of them had contributed to.
Eric’s words curled around her, firm and steady.That’s life, Adria. You can’t spend your time running from it.
He was right, of course he was right. It didn’t matter if they had today, tomorrow, or fifty years, she wanted Kaydon, Seth, and Bryson to know how she felt about them.
She wanted, no, she needed to tell them how they had changed her. Moved her from a ghost of her past to a fully fleshed out human being.
“You came back,” the priest’s voice came from behind her, and Adria turned.
He searched her face. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“Is it okay?” she asked.
His face lit up. “Of course, please follow me. I found something you might be interested in.”
Adria walked behind the smaller-framed man, following him down a spiral set of stone stairs, into a basement. It wasn’t until she was well away from the exit that Adria registered her vulnerability.
“What is this place?” she said, keeping her voice steady and scanning for doors or stairwells.
“It’s the old catacombs; it’s a sacred space where we used to bury martyrs and saints. Our ancestors believed that the proximity to holy relics and bodies brought spiritual protection. Now we keep old records and things for safe keeping in the event of a fire.”
“I didn’t catch your name,” she said.
“Really? Apologies, I’m Felipe.”
Felipe hadn’t done anything to break her trust, and Adria didn’t get the sense that he wanted to harm her. So, she continued to follow him down a long corridor before he stopped at a large metal door with an unusual keyhole.
“Your request was unusual, and I had to go deep into the archives to find it,” he said.
Felipe put a large golden key into the latch, saying, “Like most good things, it just took a little faith and time.”
Adria swallowed.
Felipe went into the dark room and came out with a large tome with yellowing frail pages. He moved quickly, carrying it toa nearby lantern, and set it on a small dais. He fingered the folios gingerly, moving through the delicate inscriptions.
Adria’s heart started pounding in her ears. She glanced at the long hallway. It winded casually back to the stairs they had come down on. But she couldn’t see her exit.
“It’s here, somewhere,” he said, continuing to turn the pages.
Soft sounds of water dripping grated on Adria’s nerves. The hushed silence seemed to press into her, and she fought the urge to run back to the church’s surface.
“Here.” His finger pointed to a page. The writing was large and in pen, but Adria couldn’t make it out. The mountaintop symbol, however, was clearly recognizable. Except, now the mountain sigil was paired with the Federov ram. The horns were drawn crudely, but there was no mistaking the large F next to it.
“What is this? I can’t read it,” she said, hating that her voice was elevated by a pitch.
His eyes glinted. “Exciting right, Most of it’s in Latin. The language is considered by many to be the universal language of old.”
He brought out a pair of glasses and set them low on his nose. “It says, today we celebrate the union between the Serras and the Federovs. May their love live forever.”
Adria stared at the page. As if looking at it would reveal some sort of clue.
Some sort of meaning.
“The rest of it.” The priest pointed to a small bit of ink at the bottom of the page. “It’s some kind of code.”
Bar bs gur sbhaqvat snzvyvrf vf zneevrq.
Her mouth opened and closed. Thoughts coming and going without order or reason.
