Found (Book #8 in the Vampire Journals) Read Online Free Page B

few dozen small buildings, each one story high and built of stone. Several of them appeared to be built of a white limestone, and in the distance, Caitlin could see villagers hammering away at the enormous limestone quarries surrounding the city. She could hear the soft ping of their hammers echoing, even from here, and could see the light limestone dust lingering in the air.
    Nazareth was encased by a low, winding stone wall, maybe only ten feet high, which looked ancient even now. At its center was a wide, open arched gate. No one stood guard at the gate, and Caitlin suspected they had no reason to. After all, this was a small town in the middle of a desert, in the middle of nowhere.
    Caitlin found herself wondering why they had awakened in this time and place. Why Nazareth? Why the first century? It was such a dramatic leap from Medieval Scotland, and she found herself missing Europe. This new landscape, with its palm trees and desert heat, was so foreign to her.
    More than anything, Caitlin wondered if Scarlet were behind those walls. She hoped—she prayed—that she was. She needed to find her. She wouldn’t be complete without her.
    Caitlin walked up to the village entrance with Caleb and entered through the town gate with a great sense of anticipation. She could feel her heart pounding at the thought of finding Scarlet—and of figuring out why they had been sent to this place to begin with. Could her father be inside, waiting? She thought back and tried to remember what she knew of Nazareth. It wasn’t much. The name sounded familiar. She vaguely remembered once learning something about it, but she just couldn’t remember.
    As they entered the town, she was struck by the vibrancy of it. The streets were filled with children running, screaming, playing. Dogs ran wild, as did chickens. Sheep and oxen shared the streets, ambling about. And outside every home there was a donkey or camel tied to a post. Villagers walked casually about, wearing primitive tunics or robes, carrying baskets of goods on their shoulders. Caitlin felt as if she’d entered a time machine.
    As they walked down the narrow streets, past small houses, past old women washing laundry by hand, people stopped and stared. Caitlin realized they must have looked so out of place, she and Caleb, walking down the streets. She looked down and noticed her modern clothing—her tight, leather battle outfit—and wondered what these people must have thought of her. They must have thought she was an alien that had dropped down from the sky. She didn’t blame them.
    In front of each house was somebody preparing food, selling goods, or working on their craft. They passed several families of carpenters, the man seated outside the home, sawing, hammering, building objects from bed frames, to dressers, to wooden axles for plows. Before one house a man was building a huge cross, several feet thick, and ten feet long. Caitlin realized it was a cross meant for someone to be crucified on. She shivered and looked away.
    As they turned down another street, the entire block was filled with blacksmiths. Everywhere flew anvils and hammers, and the ping of metal rang throughout the street, each blacksmith seeming to echo the other. There were also clay pits with large flames, on which they laid slabs of metal, turning red-hot, forging horseshoes, swords, and all sorts of metal work. Caitlin noticed the faces of children, black with soot, sitting by their father’s sides, watching their work. She felt badly that the children worked at such a young age.
    Caitlin looked everywhere for a sign of Scarlet, of her Dad, of any clue of why they were here—but she found none.
    They turned down yet another street, and this one was filled with masons. Here, men chipped away at huge blocks of white limestone, crafting statues, pottery, and huge, flat presses. At first, Caitlin didn’t realize what they were for.
    Caleb reached over and pointed.
    “They’re wine presses,” he said,