Chapter 9: The Shadowed Entrance

Cumae, Italy

The ancient site of Cumae stretched along the Italian coastline northwest of Naples, its ruins telling the story of one of the oldest Greek colonies in the western Mediterranean. Most famous for the Sibyl’s cave—where the legendary prophetess was said to have delivered her oracles—the archaeological park attracted a steady stream of tourists and scholars interested in its rich history.

Elias and Layla had spent the morning exploring the main archaeological areas, maintaining their cover as academic visitors while discreetly examining the location indicated on their manuscript’s map. Now, as afternoon shadows lengthened across the ancient stones, they found themselves in a less frequented section of the site, away from the main tourist paths.

“According to the astronomical markers in the manuscript, we should be looking in this area,” Layla said, consulting her notes as they stood before a partially collapsed structure that had once been a Roman temple. “The text refers to ‘the house of prophecy where earth meets sky,’ which almost certainly indicates a connection to the Sibylline tradition.”

Elias studied the ruins with a practiced eye. “This temple dates to the right period—late first or early second century CE. And look at the orientation.” He pointed to the alignment of the remaining columns. “It’s positioned to capture the sunset on the winter solstice, consistent with the astronomical significance mentioned in the manuscript.”

They moved closer, examining the weathered stone foundation that was all that remained of the temple’s inner sanctuary. Most visitors focused on the more impressive and better-preserved structures elsewhere in the archaeological park, leaving this area relatively deserted.

“The manuscript mentioned a ‘chamber beneath the prophet’s feet,’” Layla said, kneeling to inspect the stone flooring. “Suggesting a substructure beneath the main temple floor.”

Elias joined her, running his hands over the ancient stones. “Many Roman temples had crypts or storage areas beneath the main sanctuary. But accessing them now would be challenging without proper archaeological permits.”

“Which we don’t have,” Layla acknowledged. “And unlike the church in France, this is an actively monitored archaeological site. We can’t simply break in after hours.”

They continued their examination, careful to appear as ordinary visitors studying the ruins. As the sun lowered toward the horizon, the quality of light changed, casting longer shadows and highlighting subtle features in the stonework that had been less visible in the harsher midday sun.

“Wait,” Layla said suddenly, her attention caught by a pattern revealed in the slanting light. “Look at this section of flooring.”

Elias moved to where she was pointing. In the late afternoon light, a subtle difference in the stone pattern was visible—a circular area approximately one meter in diameter where the stones were arranged in a slightly different configuration from the surrounding floor.

“It’s almost invisible in normal light,” he said, excitement edging his voice. “But at this specific time of day, the shadow patterns reveal it clearly.”

“Another astronomical alignment,” Layla confirmed. “The manuscript mentioned that access would be revealed ‘when the dying light of day illuminates the hidden path.’ We’re seeing exactly that.”

They studied the circular pattern carefully, aware that they couldn’t attempt any physical investigation without drawing attention from the site guards. Elias took several photographs from different angles, while Layla made detailed notes about the precise location and the time of day when the pattern became visible.

“We need to come back with proper authorization,” Elias said reluctantly. “Or find another way to access whatever lies beneath this floor.”

As they were preparing to leave, Layla’s phone chimed with an incoming message. “It’s from Sahara,” she said, quickly reading the text. “She’s had direct contact with someone claiming to represent an organization called the Custodians of the True Faith.”

Elias moved closer, reading over her shoulder as Layla displayed the detailed message Sahara had sent describing her encounter with Marcus Varro.

“This is remarkable,” he said when he finished reading. “If this organization truly represents an unbroken tradition from the ancient mystery cult...”

“It would be unprecedented,” Layla agreed. “But also concerning. If they’ve maintained these practices in secret for centuries, they clearly have resources and determination. And now they’re taking a direct interest in our research.”

“Sahara says she’s secured the artifacts in Athens and will join us here as soon as possible,” Elias noted. “In the meantime, we should be even more cautious about our activities.”

They left the temple area, making their way back toward the main entrance of the archaeological park. As they walked, Elias found himself studying their fellow visitors with new awareness, wondering if any might be associated with the mysterious Custodians.

“What do you make of this Marcus Varro?” Layla asked as they reached the parking area. “His name itself is interesting—Marcus Terentius Varro was a Roman scholar known for preserving knowledge that might otherwise have been lost.”

“A chosen name rather than his birth name, perhaps,” Elias suggested. “Symbolic of his role in preserving ancient knowledge.”

“And convenient for creating a false identity,” Layla added pragmatically. “We should be careful about accepting his claims without verification.”

They reached their rental car and began the drive back to their hotel in Naples. The coastal road offered spectacular views of the Mediterranean, the setting sun casting a golden path across the water. Under different circumstances, it would have been a pleasurable scenic drive. Now, however, both were preoccupied with the implications of their discoveries and Sahara’s encounter with the self-proclaimed Custodian.

“We should check for surveillance,” Elias said as they approached the city. “If they found Sahara in Athens, they may be tracking us as well.”

Layla nodded in agreement. “Take a few random turns and double back occasionally. I’ll watch for any vehicles that stay with us through the changes.”

Elias navigated the busy Naples streets with practiced skill, making unpredictable turns and occasionally doubling back on their route. After twenty minutes of this evasive driving, they were reasonably confident they weren’t being followed.

“Either we’re clear, or they’re more sophisticated than we can detect,” Layla concluded as they finally approached their hotel.

“Let’s assume the latter and maintain precautions,” Elias replied. “We should avoid discussing sensitive matters in the hotel room or other places that might be monitored.”

Their hotel was a modest establishment in a busy commercial district, selected for its anonymity rather than luxury. They had checked in under false names, paying in cash to avoid creating electronic records of their presence. After their sweep for surveillance devices revealed nothing obvious, Layla turned to Elias with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You know we were in Cumae earlier,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “why don’t you cum in me now?”

Elias raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You do know it’s pronounced differently, don’t you?”

Layla didn’t respond with words. Instead, she stepped closer to him, her fingers moving deftly to loosen his Oxford tie. She slid it off, tossing it aside, and began unbuttoning his shirt, her movements deliberate and unhurried. When his chest was bare, she dropped to her knees, her hands working to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants.

Elias’s cock sprang free, already hardening under her gaze. Layla took him into her mouth without hesitation, her tongue swirling around the tip before she deep-throated him. Elias groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as she worked him to full erection.

When she stood, her eyes met his, dark with desire. “Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice husky.

Elias didn’t need to be told twice. He turned her toward the full-length mirror in the room, pressing her against it with his body. Layla braced her hands against the glass, her breath fogging it up as Elias positioned himself behind her. He entered her in one hard thrust, eliciting a sharp gasp from Layla that quickly turned into a moan.