CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Eva stepped through the archway into the Church of Hell, as she had dubbed it and stopped, stunned. There was nothing out of place. The walls were grey, made of limestone and carved with exquisite detail, frescos and bas-reliefs of angels and pious worshippers from end to end. Arches guided the way to the nave, the pillars nothing less than stunning. The inside of the vaulted gabled roof was darkest oak, the patterns mesmerising. The aisles held heavy wooden pews of the same material and where those ran out, wooden seats. Church candles were placed about the altar, fresh-cut flowers twined about the columns supporting them. Red carpet became blue as the aisles changed. Even the smell was musty and old, as if this church had been transported directly from some small vil
