Seeker and Beautiful walked side by side. This time she hung back, letting him lead. They climbed the stairs past crumbling statues and stepped onto the smooth marble floor.
“Here’s the Dusty Parlor,” he said.
“It does seem pretty dusty,” Beautiful said with a nod. “Maybe one of these days you should try the pitcher and broom trick.” She laughed—a light, delightful sound.
He pointed toward a doorway, now sealed by fallen rubble. “There are more rooms on the other side. The Interpreter showed Christian many things in them.”
“And Christiana,” she said, her eyes shining.
“Christiana?” Seeker blinked. There was nothing else to show her. The rubble blocked the way forward. “I guess this is where the tour ends.”
Challenge flared in her eyes. In an instant, she gathered her dress in one hand and scrambled over the wall.
He stood there, mouth open. In that moment he knew—he loved her.
“Are you coming little baby?” she called through the wall.
“Don’t call me—” He stopped short. He could hear her glare from the other side of the wall.
By the time he’d scaled the wall, she was already at the top of the stairs, standing in front of the locked door to the tower. He hurried after her. He took out his clasp-knife, slid it between the door and the jamb, and lifted the latch with practiced ease.
A spark of admiration lit her eyes. “You are full of surprises!”
He was halfway up the first flight of stairs when he stopped. Only his own footsteps echoed in the stairwell. He looked back—she was still standing in the doorway, hand stretched out to him.
“I’m waiting,” she said wistfully.
He retraced his steps. She grabbed his hand without hesitation. Then she sighed. The stairway was too narrow to hold hands—but she didn’t let go. Her body pressed close as they climbed, and his heart thundered in his chest. Surely, she could hear it.
When they reached the top, her face lit up with delight. She crossed the room and picked up his Book from the desk. It fell open to a page marked by a slip of paper—a child’s drawing of a strange bird. “What’s this?”
Seeker smiled. “It’s a puffin. My kid brother drew it for me.”
She stood there for a long moment, just looking at it. Then she looked at Seeker. Something shifted in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what it was.
She ran her delicate finger over the spines of his book and paused at H Καινή Διαθήκη.
“What is this one?” she asked.
“That’s the New Testament,” he replied. “It’s in Greek.”
“And you can read it,” she stated—it wasn’t a question.
“Some.”
“OK, then tell me, little baby, how do you say ‘I love you?’”
He paused. He didn’t want to show off. “A GAP A O,” he said pronouncing each syllable with care.
A look came into her eyes—one he hadn’t seen before. It was a strange mix of mischief and satisfaction.
“Thank you!” she said.
There was no doubt now. He loved her.
