The silence of waiting has broken. In this entry, Christopher witnesses the moment Andrea and Bianca are drawn together inside the Labyrinth. What begins with flickering torches and golden glyphs turns into something the Labyrinth itself cannot contain.
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Andrea arrived today. James did not come; only a young assistant who looked as though he wished to be anywhere else. He left her at the gate of the Labyrinth, muttering something about duty and errands, but I scarcely heard him. My eyes were fixed on Andrea.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the torches along the walls flickered violently. For an instant I thought they would extinguish, but instead, they dimmed together, bowing like servants to royalty. A hush spread across the halls, so sudden and absolute it stole the breath from my chest. Even the rustling of parchment ceased.
Andrea hesitated at the entrance, clutching her middle, and then it began. Golden glyphs unfurled along the stones of the aisle, glowing faintly as though the very floor itself beckoned her onward. She followed them, each step guided by script that vanished as soon as her feet passed over it.
Bianca, already beside me, stiffened. Mist coiled upward from her belly, curling into the air like incense smoke. She exhaled sharply, silver sparks catching in her breath. Without needing to be told, she rose and began to walk toward Andrea, her steps slow but unwavering.
I stood rooted as the two mothers approached each other through the shifting aisles. The golden path and the silver mist grew stronger with every step, until they met in the center of the chamber.
The world shuddered.
When Andrea and Bianca stood face to face, the two forces collided. A burst of gold and silver erupted outward, shockwaves rippling through the Labyrinth like the strike of a celestial drum. I stumbled back, clutching the edge of a shelf as the tremor rattled the books around us. The very air rang with it.
And then, from somewhere deep in the Labyrinth, a bell tolled. Slow, heavy, one note only. A minute passed, then another toll, echoing as though it rolled through stone and bone alike. It tolled again and again, once each minute, counting out something older than time itself.
I do not know how long it lasted. Perhaps ten tolls. Perhaps more.
But the bell fell silent the very instant the gold and silver explosion faded, as though it had only been waiting for that. The torches flared back to life, the sounds of the Labyrinth returned, and Andrea and Bianca stood trembling, their eyes wide, their hands pressed to their bellies.
I had no words. None at all.
The Sepulcher is already listening.
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This is the first time the unborn children stir in unison, answering each other across mothers who were strangers until today. Christopher's words capture awe and unease, but even he cannot yet grasp what the tolling bell means or why the Labyrinth itself responded. The path to the Sepulcher is no longer distant rumor. It is already opening, and Heaven is keeping count.