Father McCallum sat on his bed. His head ached. His body felt sick. He had waited much of his life to understand one book, and now that book was gone. Some lunatic had stolen it just when the mystery was going to be solved. Everything was ruined.
He’d run from the library as soon as he could, and driven the rental car home, wanting only to crawl into his bed and pull the covers over his head.
But he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
All the questions the police kept asking him swirled through his head. Who’d want to steal it? Why? How much is it worth? Who’d pay for it? He’d been able to give only half-answers. He couldn’t tell them the value of the book — he didn’t know its value. And if he told them the Vatican had been watching the Voynich for years, they’d never believe him.
So he ran home.
He felt light-headed. Should he have some breakfast? He wasn’t sure he had the strength to go downstairs. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.
“Ronald!”
Father McCallum bolted awake. “Yes?”
“Ronald!”
The sound came from all around him. He opened his eyes, his head in a fog. How long have I been sleeping?
But he wasn’t in his room.
Nothing looked familiar.
Except it was familiar. He was lying on the steps by the communion rail. It was dark, but he could just make out the altar and the first row of pews.
“Thou are not of this Church,” the voice boomed. “There is no welcome for thee in my house.”
“Where am I?” He could hear his voice shake.
“Thou shalt not address that which is and has always been, world without end. Thou hast become an abomination in my sight. A horrible mistake. A blight on the world. Thou wilst be removed.”
“What are you talking about? How did I get here?” Father McCallum felt a surge of panic. He wanted to stay calm and focused. Just take a deep breath, he told himself. He stood, using the communion rail to pull himself up. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness. He was definitely in a church, a familiar church. Then he recognized it.
It was the church he had been baptized in. Our Lady of Grace, in West Babylon, New York. Why was he here?
“Thou hast brought shame to the order of things. The balance is lost,” the voice said.
The voice seemed louder, more commanding. He couldn’t place it.
“And behold I bring a flood of waters upon this holy place to destroy thy flesh. I will take thine own breath of life and thou wilt be lost. I will destroy all that I have created. The mistakes of an unholy union will be hidden.”
“What?” Father McCallum asked. He didn’t have time to say more. There was an enormous crack, as though the church had been struck by lightning. He turned toward the doors to the sanctuary and felt a current of air strike him.
Then, without warning, he felt a surge of water flow around his legs. He yelped. The water was cold and dark, and was rising quickly. His back was to the massive crucifix on the wall. He had no place to go.
“Help!” he screamed, although he knew it was futile. He was going to die here.
The water swirled past his hips.
“Die!” the voice boomed. “Die!”
“No!” Father McCallum begged. He saw a door and tried to swim toward it. But the water rose faster and the swells grew more violent. They pushed at him, slamming him against the pulpit, the back wall, the crucifix.
He strained and strained, but the water lifted him and tossed him around like a rag doll.
A swell brushed over his head, and he fought to find the surface, then broke free and gasped for air. Before he could take a breath another swell forced him down.
I’m going to die, he thought.
“Ronnie?”
I’m going to die.
“Ronnie,” a pleasant voice called again, “are you up there?”
He opened his eyes. The voice was different — a female voice.
His face was slick with sweat, and as he rolled over he realized the bed was also soaked in sweat.
My bed! I’m in my bed. It was just a dream.
He listened.
“Ronnie?” It was Evelyn, calling from downstairs.
“Yes,” he answered.
“You have a visitor,” she sang up the stairs.
Father McCallum shook the dream from his mind and tried to focus on the present. The Vatican is here about the Voynich! “I’ll be right down.”