The Quest: A Novel

with what her English knight had already told her.
    Purcell had encountered a few former aristocrats or landed gentry and former capitalists in the bars of Hong Kong and Singapore, and in the capitals of Western Europe, and most of them were indignant that they’d been innocent victims of some revolution or another. Almost all expressed a sense of loss, and what they all had in common was a stunned disbelief that the world had changed so much, or had gone so mad. Born to rule or born to great wealth, these refined refugees could not understand or accept that the lowest elements of society—the Getachus—were the most recent mutation of social Darwinism, and that the former lords and masters were the dodo birds in the process of natural selection and extinction.
    Princess Miriam, Purcell thought, was a nice person, and he was sure that she and her family had never knowingly hurt anyone. In fact, they’d sent Mikael Getachu, and probably other poor children, to school. But the two greatest scapegoats in the history of the world were the nobility and the Jews—and if you were both, you had a serious problem.
    Gann switched to another subject and informed everyone, “Obsidian was quarried in these mountains since ancient times and sent down the Nile on barges to Egypt, where it was prized for its strength and its ability to be polished to a high black luster. We’ve all seen the Egyptian statuary carved from obsidian in museums. It’s difficult to work with, and it is rarely seen as a building material, except in floors, such as the one in this room, which could be a thousand years old.”
    Purcell wasn’t sure where this was going, but then Gann said, “The quarries in this area have not been worked for hundreds ofyears, and they are mostly overgrown and lost to memory. But there are a few that I’ve identified, and on the theory that this black monastery is built of obsidian—which is so heavy that it can’t be transported too far—I think we should have a look around these three ancient quarries which I’ve identified on a map.”
    Everyone nodded, except Miriam, who clearly didn’t want to participate in any discussion about finding the black monastery.
    It occurred to Purcell that, as Vivian said, they were close, and with some luck and brains they could actually be seeing what Father Armano saw forty years ago—high black walls rising out of the jungle in front of them. But was the monastery now deserted? He suspected that it was, especially after the Jewish elders of Shoan told the monks that they were all leaving. Gone, too, would be the Grail, of course. But if he, Vivian, Mercado, and Gann found the monastery, that would be enough for him and maybe for his companions. The journey would be over, and the Grail—as it had a history of doing—would be gone, but safe from the world which had grown evil.
    But if they reached the walls of the monastery and a reed basket was lowered… well, forewarned was forearmed.
    Dinner was over, and everyone stood. The long night had begun, and at dawn they would begin their quest for fame, fortune, salvation, a good story, a Grail rescue mission, inner peace, or whatever was driving them into the dark interior.
    If, indeed, they had been chosen for this journey, then the answer to why they’d been chosen was waiting for them.

PART IV
The Quest
    We shall not cease from exploration
    And the end of all our exploring
    Will be to arrive where we started
    And know the place for the first time.
    —T. S. Eliot,
Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding

Chapter 46
    T hey rose before dawn and met in the courtyard, where Miriam had coffee, fruit, and bread for them.
    They carried their backpacks and equipment, and what was left behind would be burned along with the Navion, to hide any traces that they’d been in the village.
    Vivian and Purcell had slept in the same room, but not in the same bed. So they were friends.
    The sky was beginning to lighten, and Purcell could see it was going to be a clear day. No one spoke much, because there was little to say that hadn’t already been said, and also because there were no words equal to the moment of heading off into the unknown.
    Purcell, Vivian, and Henry thanked Miriam for her hospitality and promised to meet again under better circumstances. She seemed sorry to see them go, Purcell thought, but probably relieved, too. She didn’t hand them a map to the black monastery, but she did say, “If God wants you to find this place,