A Sacred Truth and A Lie?

THE BELL TOWER tolled early the next morning.

"What the heck?!" Aya Naamah roused and rubbed her eyes to clear off the sleep. It seemed like she had just settled into their makeshift bed a second ago. "Why the hell is the damn bell ringing of its own accord? It must be some kind of magical spell weaved on the land."

Ravenna tossed and turned in the crook of Rafel's arm. She heard Aya talking but grabbed a pillow to stuff over her ears. She was by far the neediest one for comfort of the bunch. The others let her remain closest to Rafel. Unlike the women, he hadn't slept a wink. Rafel didn't trust empty bastions.

And in truth, the Abbey was a holy [El Dorado].

Since the air mattress Sekhmet had wisely packed up in her duffel came with a single Persian bedding, all the women had tumbled in with Rafel for the night. The sprawling blanket was of warm gold and green colors. "Careful with your tossing, Ravenna. You might hurt his bandages," offered the nurse.