“No. The paint is very old, and if we touch it, we could damage it.”

Dia continued. “In 1340 they completed Theomitoros or God’s Mother church.”

“How did they get up here?” Nefeli asked.

“The 146 stairs we used to walk up weren’t installed until 1923. Until then the monastery was accessed by a system of wooden ladders, ropes, and nets.”

“That sounds fun,” Nefeli said. “I’d rather climb ladders to get here.”

“I’m sure you would.” Dia gave the girl a smile. “But the stairs are safer.”

They continued their tour, and the children peppered Dia with questions. Rose was delighted to discover the library housed priceless treasures of books and manuscripts. “I suppose after building, there wasn’t much else to do,” she commented to Stavros.

“It’s one of the wealthiest of its kind,” he said.

As they traveled from one monastery to another, Rose watched the children for signs of fatigue or hunger or boredom, all of which could quickly turn their delightful outing into a miserable meltdown. The children absorbed Dia’s history like little sponges. They were obviously intelligent and well-mannered. After visiting Varlaam, Dia supplied them with snacks and water on their way to the third monastery.

“What did you like best about that one?” Rose asked Nefeli.

Nefeli chewed and swallowed before answering. “The net.”

“Good choice. I can’t believe that’s all the monks used until they felt inspired to modernize. I don’t think I would’ve liked traveling by net.”

“I would. It’s like a big swing.” Adonis showed the motion with his arms, and a little water spilled out of his bottle.

“Oops.” Rose wiped up the water with a napkin.

“Sorry.” Adonis looked down at the floorboard.

Rose presumed he expected to be scolded by her. “Accidents happen,” she said. “We just need to be a little more careful. What did you like best, Adonis?”

“The big barrel.”

“I liked the water barrel too,” Rose said. “I think you could build a nice playhouse or fort inside one that big.”

“That would be fun. Could we take the barrel home with us?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It’s too old, and I don’t think it will fit in the helicopter.”

Adonis frowned.

“But maybe we could build a blanket fort with chairs when we get to your house. Have you ever done that?”

Adonis shook his head.

“Really?” Rose looked to Nefeli for confirmation.

“Never,” Nefeli said. “Can we have your birthday party inside of it?”

“Um, maybe?” Rose looked at Mr. P.

“Your fort will have to be quite large,” he said.

Nefeli’s brows knit together.

Rose guessed the girl was trying to decide if that was a “no” or a “we’ll see.” She wasn’t certain herself which answer had been given.

They arrived at Roussanou, the last monastery they could tour.