Chương 54: 54
You eagerly pull the doors open, and there it is. The breastplate of the High Priest, Urim and Thummim, the Oracle of God—a priceless treasure of the Jewish people, saved from the ruin of Jerusalem, hidden out here far in the wilderness, and lost for two thousand years. Until now. It's moments like this that make everything worthwhile.
Your companions are still and silent as they marvel at the treasure. The chest piece itself is square and small, about nine inches across and down, and made entirely of gold. A leather strap, still preserved, would have suspended it from the priest's neck. On either side of the front plate are carved monstrous cherubim facing each other. They stand on their hind legs, their wings rising up and almost touching each other at the top of the plate. And between them are fixed two stones, the like of which you have never seen before: the famous Urim and Thummim.
The stones are pale blue, about the color of lapis lazuli, or the so-called King Solomon's Stone that hawkers sell to credulous tourists in the Old City. But they are not lapis, nor King Solomon's Stone. The stones seems alive, shifting and changing in brightness as you look at them, and all across their surfaces are large flecks of gold. It is like no stone you have ever seen before—and you are an archaeologist, so you have seen a lot of stone.
You reach out your right hand to touch one of the stones instinctively, and then something remarkable happens. As soon you make contact, the stones begin to sing, emitting an unearthly, high-pitched noise. At the same time, they glow, suddenly filling the room with blinding blue light.
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