The runes along the wall were a mystery to Connie, other than the odd shape she recognised from the expert tome of the woman who was walking close-by to her, but she doubted they were words of encouragement. Thus far the Sphinx back at the church had somehow been the most reassuring thing they had encountered: at least she had been able to tell them something and had seemed more peculiar with a soupçon of danger. This was unlike anything she had seen outside of a museum and coupled with the Sphinx's riddles did begin to lay a very particular pattern.

"I suppose we must," she peered over the edge. "And consider ourselves grateful it isn't the Red Sea."

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MJ made me beautiful