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drowsy.
    “Come, come,” Ignatius said. “Get yourself good and warm so the hot water will not be such a shock. Then prepare for the plunge into the cold.”
    “I feel well,” John said. “Allow me to just sit here and enjoy this.”
    “But we’re going into the next room and the spring-fed bath soon,” Polycarp said. “Will you be ready?”
    John tucked his chin to his chest, and his breathing quickly became even and deep. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. “You go when you’re ready. I’ll be along.”
    “Let us go,” Ignatius said.
    “Are you sure, master?” Polycarp said. “You will join us, will you not?”
    “I will. In time.”
    Steam poured through the door as the two left, and John heard vendors from the pool room offering refreshments—wine, cheese, and sausages—for sale. He found himself dozing in the soothing heat but planned to follow through on his promise to join his young friends.
    John opened one eye as other parties moved into the warm room, and most took no notice of him, moving on as soon as they were ready. Soon a party of a half dozen entered, and all seemed to be listening to the obvious leader, a thick, stocky, athletic man of full face and thin lips who seemed to speak with authority. Through the steam John squinted to watch the man, who clearly had the attention of the rest.
    “Many conclusions can be drawn from the life and teachings of Jesus,” he said. And John had to wonder if the man had any idea that he shared a room with someone who had been a personal friend of the Christ. “My Egyptian teachers and angelic muses confirm that the world we live in, as well as the one we will go to upon death, were not created by the Supreme Being but by the Demiurge. Jehovah has not given us the world and the law, but rather the angels have.”
    Heresy! Who is this?
    “Is Jesus the Christ?” one of the young men said.
    “No, no. Jesus was the son of earthly parents, and the Christ descended upon Him at His baptism but left Him again at His crucifixion.”
    “Let me ask you this, Cerinthus,” a young man said, and John shivered despite the heat.
    Cerinthus!
    The small group headed into the baths, and the old man leapt to his feet. He pushed through the door and called out, “Polycarp! Ignatius! Come now! We must leave!”
    Ignatius stopped and turned in the shallow water. Polycarp rushed from the pool. “What is it, master? Are you ill?”
    “We must leave this place now! An enemy of the truth is here, and we must flee lest the roof cave in on him and crush us too!”
    The men splashed from the water and leaned in to John. “What is it, rabbi?” Ignatius said. “Who is here?”
    John pointed. “That is Cerinthus!”
    “Verily? The Gnostic? I’ll debate him right here!”
    But John pulled him away. “If you still consider me your mentor, you will come with me now. I do not want to meet my end in a Roman bath. Now, please!”
    “Do we have time to rinse in the cold pool?” Polycarp said, but John’s look alone was his answer. The two hurried back to the cold room, drying and dressing while kicking off their wood sandals and replacing them with their own leather ones. With his young charges on either side, John rushed toward the exit, eager to breathe freely again in the open air.
    “Do you really believe God will strike him dead in there?” Ignatius said.
    “I don’t know,” John said. “But I’d rather die a martyr’s death than be taken in the judgment meted out to an enemy of the truth.” But he slowed. Something was niggling at him.
    “I remain in a mood to counter him,” Ignatius said. “Are you sure it is he?”
    “No doubt,” John said, stopping. Had he grown so old that he was now a coward? Where was the Son of Thunder his own Master had christened? “Am I wrong? Shall we take him on, right here, right now? Oppose him before he draws yet a larger crowd on the street?”
    “Nothing would give me more pleasure,” Ignatius said. “I long to see you