After the Fall

chapter 20


Present Day, Ravenna, Italy

Hiding behind sunglasses and a dark wig, Gigi fortified herself with two Bloody Marys at a bar near the hospital, where Magnus was recovering. So far, no one knew she was back except her manager, Jack, and her parents, who were en route from Seattle.

Clutching her new flute case, she purchased her ticket to the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia. Her flute was examined as she passed through security, but then they waved her on. With a deep breath, she hurried after the guide and other tourists toward the entrance of the rather plain-looking brick structure.

“As you will see,” the tour guide said as he entered, his voice echoing, “the interior is breathtaking, perhaps the most beautiful in the world, even more so than Ravenna’s other golden mosaics, which were said to inspire such literary luminaries as Dante and Yeats. In fact, this ceiling was the inspiration for Cole Porter's beautiful song, “Night and Day.” The mausoleum was originally part of a much larger structure, the Church of the Holy Cross, which fell into ruin long ago. What remains is called a mausoleum, but historians believe it was originally the oratory of the Holy Cross. It is said to contain the most perfectly preserved mosaic ceiling from the ancient world, hence our designation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.”

Removing her sunglasses, Gigi stepped over the threshold and looked up, captivated by the gorgeous gold and blue mosaics of stars and angels. Nothing could have prepared her for the impact of seeing this place in person. She thought back, remembering another ceiling depicting the night sky, and the lovely, dark-haired young woman standing beneath it, so vibrant and alive.

Placidia. Tears threatened, and Gigi could feel her presence still, remembering the warmth of her smile, her brave heart. What happened to you? she wondered. Did you grow old with Athaulf, sharing your love for years? Did you have children?

Gigi had no idea — yet. And what of the others? Verica? Little Berga and the boys? With a tremor of expectation, she willed her thoughts back through time, hoping somehow she had made a difference for them as well.

She’d been holed up with Magnus in his hospital room since their arrival, but once he was out of danger — and at his urging — she’d decided to give herself this gift of time and knowledge.

A shuffling of feet and fading conversation brought Gigi around, and she realized the tour group was moving away from her. She started after them, straining to hear the guide.

“Look at the light, how the translucent mica in the windows casts an amber glow on the room,” he was saying. “Wonderful, isn’t it? And now, let us examine some of the mausoleum’s other treasures, our three marble sarcophagi, precious relics of ancient Rome! You will notice they are plain, bearing no insignia except Alpha Christus Omega, signifying ‘Christ is the Beginning and the End.’ Scholars believe the central sarcophagus contained the remains of Galla Placidia.”

Contained? Gigi wondered. She isn’t here? Waving her hand to get the guide’s attention, she called out, “Excuse me, where is she?”

“Unfortunately,” the tour guide replied, “her body was destroyed by fire.”

Stunned, Gigi stared at him.

The guide nodded soberly. “Yes, it was a horrible loss. When the tomb was first opened in the sixteenth century, the remains were found seated upright on a chair of cypress, dressed in royal robes and holding the imperial regalia. Unfortunately, the body was accidentally burned by some hooligans in 1573, when they introduced lighted tapers into the chinks of the tomb to see what lay inside. And now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would follow me.”

Poor Placidia, how awful! Gigi barely heard the guide’s next words, didn’t care if she seemed rude as she waved again. “When did she die?”

He turned and smiled patiently at her. “She died of natural causes in the Year of Our Lord 450, on the twenty-seventh of November, to be exact. And now, if you would please join me over here.”

She died in 450? Gigi felt exultant. Placidia lived a long life!

She lingered for a moment by the tomb. Gently running her hand over the cool marble, she remembered the last, hurried hug they shared. She wished she’d had the foresight to realize it would be their final goodbye.

Willing away the lump in her throat, she removed her flute. “Farewell, my dearest friend.” Her voice caught and she stood there for a long moment, fighting tears, before whispering, “I will never forget you.”

Gigi placed the flute to her lips. Fingers trembling, she blew the first notes low and faint, then sought to center herself, searching for her core of strength, needing to do this right.

Her heart surged with the deep love of one friend for another, and the melody floated out, haunting, lovely, so right for this place, this moment — a tribute to a great lady.

“Night and Day.”