“Here’s what I think happened. See those trees?” I point to the row of Incense-cedars behind the ruined church. “They’re growing in kind of a straight line, which you don’t see too much of in old growth forests. I think probably… a really old tree fell here, after the church was abandoned. It must have fallen right along the entrance, and the Incense-cedar seedlings - god, that’s hard to say - they grew from the log and formed a sort of barricade. That’s why we didn’t spot that wall. And this wall must have at least partially collapsed, then gotten swallowed up by the moss and vines…”

“Alright, that explains why this place is practically invisible,” Aiden answers, still peering through the window. “But it doesn’t exactly solve the problem, I mean - how do we get inside?”

Now that we’ve recovered from the thrilled, giddy laughter that followed our discovery, we’ve done several laps of this church that we mistook for a rock formation. On the far side, we can see the rusted metal outlining a door, but it's melded shut by wildlife, and regardless, we can’t reach it. The Incense-cedar barricade is blocking the way.

“Does this mean we have to climb through the window?” I ask.

“You boys can climb through the window, I’ll be walking right in, thanks.”

“Kasey! No fair, don’t go in without us!”

“This is a lot of broken glass,” Aiden says, examining the jagged shards sticking out of the window frame. “I’d prefer it if none of us came back from this trip with blood poisoning.”

“I still can’t believe we found this,” Kasey murmurs, craning her head back for a better view. “Churches from this time period, in this country… they were usually made of wood. We’re lucky that someone felt the need to invest in stone. This church probably had a wealthy patron. The tower must have fallen at some point, but the mere fact that the building is still standing, that any glass is left - wait a minute. Idea.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I know you two don’t want me to go in without you, but I can try to find a window that isn’t broken. There might be one. Then you guys could open it, right? No glass cuts.”

Aiden and I exchange a glance, and I shrug.

“Here, hang on.” Aiden steps closer to the wall, his eyes flashing white-blue with impending magic. Kasey and I watch as he creates a few little globes of light and directs them through the window. “Is that enough for you to see by, Kasey?”

“Let’s find out.” She walks into the mossy wall and vanishes. Her voice is muffled when it comes back to us. “Okay, it’s still really dark in here, but there are some windows that don’t seem broken.”

“Where are they?” I call.

“Come around the side - to your left!”

We move around to the long side of the half-collapsed building, where we find one of Kasey’s hands sticking out through the wall.

“Right here?” Aiden shouts.

“Where my hand is!”

I peel away a chunk of moss, uncovering more glass. Aiden leans forward to help, and Kasey steps back outside to join us. Once we have a place to start, it’s easy to follow the lines, and soon we have the window mostly exposed. It’s tall and slim, but it doesn’t look too narrow for us to squeeze through.

Aiden pries his fingers between the wall and the metal window frame.

“Are we sure this is the kind of window that actually opens-?” he begins, and then topples backward as the entire window comes loose, pops out of the church wall, and falls into his hands.

Kasey and I both make a grab for him; her fingers move right through his sternum, but mine sprawl on his back, and he manages to catch himself.

“Oh, shit!” He regains his balance and stares at the window in his hands. “Gave it - gave it a little too much force, I guess.”

“Muscle man,” I answer.

“Bicep boy,” Kasey says, at the same time.

“Alright, alright.” Aiden’s cheeks are turning pink. He sets the window down and carefully leans it against a tree. “No one tell Jamie’s mom that I desecrated an old church.”

“Hang on, let me send her a quick text-”

“Jamie, I will break your phone into a million pieces, I swear-”

“You guys,” Kasey groans. “Are you kidding me, right now? Let’s go the fuck inside!”

~~~~

Kasey walks through the wall again, and I hop over the windowsill without issue. Aiden, on the other hand, has to do an awkward, sideways sort of crawl to get his broad chest and shoulders through. I help him down, and the three of us stop, adjusting to the gloom. The handful of magical fireflies that Aiden made aren’t enough to light the place up, and he clicks on the flashlight.

There’s a beat of silence.

“How do you feel, historian?” I murmur. “You just discovered an ancient ruin.”

“We discovered it.” Kasey’s face is glowing, her eyes wide, reverential, unblinking. “And technically for it to be ancient it would have to predate the post-classical period - but - yeah, I…”

It’s not often that I see Kasey at a loss for words. I grin at Aiden, who smiles back.

“Maybe we’ll uncover some cool artifacts,” he says. “We can sell them to a museum, make ourselves some cash, fund your next cliff-diving retreat-”

“No, Aiden, don’t get her started on-!”

Too late. Kasey whips around and glares at him.

“Museums shouldn’t buy or own anything,” she says hotly. “It should be a community pool with a loan system. The very idea of ownership of cultural heritage, especially someone else’s culture-”

“Okay, okay,” I try. “Can we-?”

“That’s why museums drive looting, Aiden. Don't you know that?"

“Um - I-”

“People want to blame local looters, who are just trying to make enough cash to get by, and they never blame the high-rollers at the museums who fake the provenance and buy illicit, stolen - listen, the Getty Museum alone-”

“Kasey!” I wave a hand in front of her face, and she stops. “Stay focused! You can give Aiden this whole spiel later. Or I can, because I know it by heart.”

“I’m just saying.” She turns to face the church again, and Aiden looks at me, his eyebrows all the way up.

“Oops.”

“Yeah,” I whisper back. “And don’t say the words Indiana Jones, or it’s all over.”

There’s another stretch of silence as we all remember what we’re doing here. Aiden slowly moves the flashlight beam around the church’s dark interior.

It’s a wide, rectangular room. The farthest wall is half-fallen, and fractured slabs of stone are scattered on the floor before it. A thin shaft of sunlight makes its way through a hole in the roof, illuminating the swirling dust and spores disturbed by our arrival. We’re standing in the nave, and there’s actually still a pew that hasn’t rotted away completely, though it looks as fragile as a cobweb, equally strangled and supported by the plant life. The rest are gone, either taken away when the church closed or eaten up by time and nature.

Aiden points the flashlight up at the crumbling ceiling, then travels it down towards the front wall of the church. This wall is curved in design - presumably to make space for an altar table - and unlike the other three, it has a smooth layer of plaster covering the stone. Aiden stops the flashlight beam there, and we all take a breath, staring.

There’s a huge, elaborate painting there, done directly onto the wall. It’s chipped and faded, half-covered with moss, but I can just make out a few details. A head covering, and a halo. A pair of solemn, watchful eyes. Pale yellow beams of light unfolding from behind the figure.

“The Virgin Mary?” I ask, and Kasey nods, her eyes still glued to the devotional painting. She moves closer to it, and I can almost hear the gears in her head turning.

“I can’t say for sure, but - the design of this… the stars around the perimeter, the style of this face… Combine that with the architecture of this building...” She turns to look at us, beaming. “I feel comfortable saying that this church is from William’s lifetime.”

“Which means…” Aiden's eyes light up.

“Yes. The cemetery is probably right nearby.”

We all stare at each other, and then everyone starts yelling at once.

“Did we-?”

“You guys!”

“We actually found it!”

I’m grabbing Aiden’s arm, and he’s grinning wildly, and Kasey is hopping up and down, her black hair flying around her face.

“Thank you, blessed mama!” she shouts, addressing the painting. “I can’t believe this, team. It’s so damn remarkable that this is still here! Jamie, is it sacrilege if I do a lil’ twerk?”

“Um - I don’t know? I haven’t been to church since I was like, thirteen. And I’m not sure my Sunday School classes covered the lord’s opinion on twerking.”

“Okay, so hang on,” Aiden cuts in. “If the cemetery is around here, why haven’t we found it? It should be pretty close to the church, shouldn’t it?”

“Presumably because all of the headstones have fallen and mossed over,” Kasey answers, rejoining us in the nave. “Just like the church.”

The excited smile on Aiden’s face melts away, replaced by a sudden frown.

“If the headstones are all fallen and covered up,” he says, half to himself, “How could I have kicked one over when I came here with Ralph, Grant, and Noah? How could we have even known we were in a cemetery?”

There’s a brief, ringing silence.

“Um-”

“In fact, we’re way too far from town. There’s no way we could have walked here from Ralph’s house. I bet - I bet we went to Memorial Gardens, that night. We were never here. Never. Ralph made the whole thing up. Or no, he took the real night we spent at Memorial Gardens and - twisted it into something else - just to get us to go into the woods, so he could split us up and force me to talk to him - he - that - that fucking liar.”

My heart twists painfully. I step closer and fold my arms around Aiden’s waist. He doesn't react, only stares straight ahead, his jaw working and his eyes blazing.

“Aiden-”

“Ralph knows. I told him. I fucking told him to his face that I’m a recovering alcoholic, and he still used a time that I was fucking blacked out to trick me and lie to me-”

“Babe-”

“And I bet you Noah just went along with it because he believes anything Ralph says-”

Kasey rests a hand on Aiden’s shoulder, being careful not to put it through him by accident. Aiden blinks and looks down at her.

“You have better friends now, Aiden.”

He stares at her for a moment, then raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, are we friends, Kasey?”

Her lips twist to the side.

“Ugh. Gross. Friends with Aiden Callahan. Dear god. Yes, damn it. I guess we are. I can see how hard you’re working to help me find Will. I no longer consider you an enemy, Aiden, despite all the shit you put Jamie through. Haven’t for a minute, honestly. End of an era, huh?”

I’m not sure what this expression is on Aiden’s face, and he turns away before I can figure it out. He walks to the low stone platform beneath the painting, where he sits down. I hesitate, then cross the church floor and sit down next to him.

Kasey nibbles her lip, then slips back through the wall, leaving us alone. I wait until she’s gone before I say anything.

“Do you need space, or is it cool if I sit with you?”

“I-” Aiden rubs his eyes. “I think I’m just getting whiplash. I don’t know whether to be furious or super happy. On the one hand, I’m so fucking mad at Ralph that I don’t know what to do with myself, and on the other…” He swallows. “I thought that Kasey was one of the people I’d never get a chance to make things right with.”

I lean my head on his shoulder, and he runs a hand over his face.

“You know,” I say quietly, “When you gave me your phone number, you told me it was time for new friends. I think this mixture of stuff you’re feeling, it’s all proof that you were right. Although - you did get to keep an old friend, after all.”

“Noah,” Aiden murmurs, looking down at his feet. “That’s true. We’ve been running around together since we were fourteen. I guess - it helps to know that at least one person from my old life...” He falls silent.

“Yeah.” I rest my hand on his back, smooth it in gentle circles along his spine. “For what it’s worth, the friends you have now - we really do care about you. A lot. None of us would ever use you like that. Or try to manipulate you, at least not beyond me making that face when you say we don’t have time to stop at Mugshot-”

I break off as Aiden suddenly turns and presses his forehead against mine. We sit in silence for a minute, leaning against one another, the tips of our noses touching. It’s perfectly still in this abandoned church, the only movement the dust wafting through the lone sunbeam, the only sound our mingled breathing.

“You get what I’m saying, though, right?” I finally ask.

“Yes.” He doesn’t open his eyes, but his voice has steadied out a little. “Thank you.”

I try leaning closer, and find myself rewarded with a soft, lingering kiss. I pull back and smile at him.

“Like, you must know how much I genuinely like you, because you asked me not to shower for two days, and here I am doing it.”

“I asked you to go camping, dude.”

“Yeah, but what I heard was, Jamie, can you please not shower for two days?”

Aiden’s huffing laugh is truly becoming my favorite sound in the world. He swipes a hand under his nose, then gets to his feet. I take his fingers and let him pull me up.

“We can talk about this more,” I tell him. “Honestly, if you-”

“It’s okay.” He ruffles my hair. “We need to stay on schedule. Otherwise you’ll end up not showering for three days.”

“Absolutely fucking not, no. Not an option. I’m using our drinking water, at that point.”

Aiden laughs again, and the aching knot in my heart hurts a little less.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go ask our resident historian how the hell to find a lost headstone. Think she's got any ideas?"

"Oh, I'm sure she's got something."

~~~~

“These kinds of churches are typically aligned east-west, but the south side of the church is considered the most sacred,” Kasey explains. “That’s why the door is usually on the southern side. People enter and turn east to face the altar. It’s a common thing. Most religious buildings and burial places have some sort of celestial alignment. It’s different for each religion, obviously. If this was a mosque, we’d be looking for graves perpendicular to the Qibla, and if it was a synagogue-”

“Kasey,” Aiden cuts in. “Stay on task.”

“Right, okay. Like I said, in this case, the south side of the building is holy, which means that’s usually the side of the churchyard where they would start burying people. Baptized people, anyways. But when the south side fills up, they start burying on all four sides of the church.”

“Okay?” I prompt.

“So… the oldest graves would be on the southern side. The more recent ones would be everywhere else. William died when Ketterbridge was practically brand new, so it stands to reason he’d be on the south side of the churchyard. If I’m remembering all this correctly.”

I pull up my compass app again.

“I think you are. The southern side of the church is the side with the door we couldn’t open.”

We all walk around to the row of Incense-cedars and survey the land before them. The forest floor is thick with growth. No hint or indication of any headstones.

“Well,” Aiden says. “Looks like we’ve got some work to do.”