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CHAPTER FIVE The Chosen One drove with the window open, breathing in the rich smells of the New England forest. His eyes felt heavy and gritty from lack of sleep. His gut protested at the several cups of coffee he had downed during his brief rest stops as he drove in a winding route. His legs and lower back felt stiff from driving for so many hours. His neck was beginning to ache too. And yet he felt content. He was doing the Lord’s work. And what a place to do it in! Ever since leaving the Glencairn Museum with the Gorizia dodecahedron, the Chosen One had spent the last two days driving around some of the oldest churches of the land. He had headed through eastern Pennsylvania, then north and east to cut through the southern Hudson Valley before moving due east into Connecticut and then