― John Mark Green
Astrid and I are on an archeological dig to uncover the sanctuary of the dead in the hopes that Perry Landers, the financier of our expedition, will be able to contact the spirit of Susi, his dead wife.
It seems a fool's errand but Astrid and I are touched by the depth of Lander's grief and we've thrown common sense to the wind in the hopes of easing his sorrow.
Yes, I resisted at first, but in the end common humanity prevailed.
So, two days later, we’re excavating on a tiny hillside near Phyra in a location I would never have dug had not Landers uncovered the ancient manuscript. As it is, I have my doubts. None of the details mentioned in Herodotus’ description of the sanctuary location match the site.
Astrid, again, is oblivious of any discrepancies, however, and continues on, tossing spadefuls of dirt onto an ever-growing pile.
I remove myself from her a short distance and begin pulling away loose stone from the hillside. One rock in particular is firmly wedged and as I strike at it with my mattock, I hear an iron clang.
Astrid hears it too, and scrabbles over loose rock to get a look. It’s an iron gate. The look on her face is ecstatic.
It takes several days to clear the rubble that blocks the entrance to the sanctuary—no doubt, an earthquake buried the site centuries ago, and it’s arduous work removing some of the larger boulders.
At last, the entrance is cleared enough to allow us to squeeze into the tunnel, and what we see is amazing.
The sanctuary is built into a hillside and consists of a series of labyrinthine tunnels. The faithful follow these winding subterranean corridors through several sets of iron gates until they arrive at the central room of the temple.
We can hear running water—an underground spring trickles through cracks and crevices and some of the water is diverted into a huge, stone pool. Around the edge of the pool are tiny alcoves with candle sconces.
Apparently the seekers lit candles and stared into the sacred waters and beheld the shades of departed loved ones.
Landers is moved to tears when we lead him into the central room of the sanctuary.
“Just think, for centuries the secret of this temple lay buried beneath rubble, under the noses of unsuspecting archeologists—and now, we’ve found it.”
I nod. “I think the honour of announcing it to the world should go to you, Perry—you uncovered the manuscript and financed the expedition.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not concerned with that. I have a favour to ask of you both. Could you delay the announcement—say for a month? I would like to spend some time here alone, communing with Susi. I’ll gladly finance your stay.”
I glance over at Astrid—eyes shining in candlelight—skin bronzed as when we slept in the land of Nod. I know her answer.
This will be our Aegean vacation. We both agree.
It’s different this time sleeping out on the beach with Astrid, beneath Aegean stars. This is where she descended to earth as Queen of the Stars—this goddess I can never fully possess.
It’s also cool those nights after the sun goes down and so, we always build a fire.
Astrid is inevitably curled up beside me and I can easily whisper in her ear.
On one particular night, I’m feeling reflective, acutely aware of the briefness of the tiny lives we share.
“We don’t choose our time,” I say softly. I’m thinking of Landers and Susi separated by the Great Divide.
She turns over to face me, hair backlit by the fire.
“But we do get to choose our stars,” she says dreamily, holding my hand in hers.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking of one faint star I see from your rooftop terrace—it’s mine, and I could dwell upon it, but I’d rather be here in your heart.”
She touches her hand to my chest and I feel a familiar warmth. It spreads to my limbs and suffuses throughout my whole body.
I whisper in her ear.
You know what Joseph Addison said,—when a man becomes familiar with his goddess, she quickly sinks into a woman.
Her eyes grow huge. “Have I come down to earth?”
I kiss her. “That hasn’t happened yet.”