Chosen by Lisa T. Bergren

“They’re just tots! How old are they?”
    “Four,” Alexana said. Catching the eye of the teacher, she waved and smiled and kept on talking. “That is Rabbi Josef Shek, a friend of my father’s. This yeshiva preschool is the heart of the community, where boys study and discuss the Torah and Talmud.”
    She pointed past Ridge at three neatly bundled little girls walking down the street, following their mother like goslings after a goose. “For one of those haredi girls to marry one of the little scholars you see inside is the highest hope of any haredi father. They will most likely be properly educated and remain devout Jews.”
    “Will it be a challenge to find a suitable match?” Ridge asked, grinning as a sleeping boy was jostled awake by the rabbi.
    “Not too tough. Most will remain in the yeshiva until they’re eighteen, or older. In all of Eastern Europe before the Holocaust, there were perhaps thirty-five thousand yeshiva students. Today, in Israel alone, there are almost fifty thousand. The government obviously encourages these schools. They give grants to the families of the students; that tradition, and the high birthrate among haredi Jews, will keep the schools in business.”
    “And find those girls the right man.”
    “Of course.” Alexana grinned. They walked down several streets in silence, eventually making their way to the Western Wall of the Temple Mount.
    “Ah, the Wailing Wall,” Ridge nodded in recognition. “Maybe you can enlighten me …”
    Alexana nodded sadly. “It’s as close as they can come to their Godand an understanding of where he lives. So they stick prayers between the stones that Herod had placed there, and they pray that the Temple will be theirs again.”
    “By the looks of the Dome of the Rock, that’s not likely to happen.”
    “No, especially after 176 pounds of gold has just been plastered over it, a gift from King Hussein. You understand the significance of this place?”
    “Not as deeply as you do. And that’s where you hope to excavate Solomon’s Stables—under the Haram, as Palestinians call it?”
    “Yes. You can see that the Temple Mount is huge: the length and width of five football fields. Once it housed the grand Jewish temple. Or I should say twice. It was destroyed and rebuilt. People used to enter it from the eastern side, through the Golden Gate, or from the south end at the Triple Gate—you know, the ones we saw earlier, walled off, as we entered the Dung Gate?
    “Behind the Double Gate is a staircase that Christ and his disciples walked. For centuries, erosion and filler, as well as political or religious differences, have kept scholars from exploring the structure underneath. The Crusaders used the caverns as stables. Thus, the name.”
    “The excavation is a big deal because no one has done it before?”
    “Well, yes. To excavate anywhere on or under the Haram would be a dig of significance. Under the Dome of the Rock is the stone where Abraham is thought to have gone to sacrifice Isaac and where his hand was stayed. The Temple Mount itself held the two greatest temples ever built for Jews, one of which was attended by Jesus Christ himself. Today the Temple Mount, or the ‘Haram el Sharif’ as Muslims call it, holds two holy Muslim mosques, one of which isthe El Aksa Mosque, a pilgrimage site for all believers. Directly under it and eastward,” she said, gesturing toward the smaller dome, “is where I intend to dig. The work is bound to anger those who mistrust the motives of those considered a threat to the Haram.”
    “Especially Hamas,” Ridge said.
    Ignoring his comment, Alexana gestured for him to follow her. They quickly walked another three blocks and soon were standing in front of a store called The Bookstore of the Temple Mount Faithful. The window appeared to be made of bulletproof glass, and protective bars could be seen inside. “Look at this picture,” Alexana said, pointing.
    Ridge stared through the glass at the