Enoch's Ghost (15 page)

Timothy copied Abraham’s quick dismount, and, seconds later, Grackle landed abreast of the white dragon. Wielding her club, Angel hopped to the sand and rushed into Abraham’s embrace. “Father! I cannot bear it! Without my Adam’s companion, we will lose his memory forever!”

While Angel’s little companion caressed her tear-streaked face, Abraham hugged her close. “Dragon was a great man,” he said. “He surely lived up to the courage behind his name. We will find the murderer and restore your Adam’s presence to your children. It is our only hope to bring Dragon back to the living.”

“But will it ever happen?” Angel pulled back and gazed into Abraham’s eyes. “The others in my village fear to raise their laments above a whisper, but you know the separated companions have been little more than painful reminders. I have hung on to this hope for almost three years, but no one has yet returned from the dead, at least none that I can remember.”

Abraham clasped her shoulders. “We await the prophecy. I cannot promise that even that will bring back our fallen warriors, but until then, you have the reminder of your Adam’s love.”

Closing her eyes, Angel shook her head. “A reminder will not teach Candle how to sharpen an axe or build a home, nor will it provide Listener the peace and joy of a masculine presence.” Opening her eyes again, she continued, her voice breaking. “In the evenings, it will not play sparkles during twin moons … or sing hymns in the firelight. On the coldest nights it will not wrap me in strong arms and keep me warm.” She laid her cheek on his shoulder and wept bitterly.

Abraham patted her on the back and glanced at Timothy. “My people know so little heartache, when it comes, it devastates them. The loss of a beloved mate she slept beside every night for over one hundred years nearly killed her, and now the loss of his symbolic presence will likely tear her apart as well.”

Wiping a tear from his own eye, Timothy nodded. “I don’t know why, but I share her pain. It’s like I’ve lost someone close, too, but I have no idea who it is.”

“Perhaps we can soon find the answers you seek, but for now” Abraham jerked his head toward the trees on the other side of the river. “I saw something.”

Timothy pointed. “There! Something dark. A moving shadow.”

Angel wrung the club with her fingers and tromped into the flowing water. “An altered one!”

Just as Timothy jumped in the shallows to stop her, the companion zoomed in front of her eyes and flashed red.

Angel halted. As she stood knee-deep in the icy water, she sagged her shoulders. “You’re right. It is foolish to take the lead when the Prophet is here.”

Abraham waded in and took her club. “We will go together.” As he scanned the churning river, an ice boulder tumbled through the current and smashed into an underwater stone, cleaving it in two. The broken halves rushed downstream, spinning in separate eddies.

“We had better ride the dragons across,” Abraham said.

They waded back and remounted the dragons. With his wings beating the misty air, Albatross bounded to a large stone protruding from the river, then leaped again to the opposite shore. Grackle flew gracefully across, spanning the hundred-foot-wide river without a break. Abraham leaped down, pulled Enoch’s Ghost from the bag, and strode into the woods, followed by Timothy and Angel.

With the sun well behind the ridge and the tree canopy blocking ambient light, the landscape grew darker as they penetrated the forest’s boundary. After handing Timothy the club, Abraham cradled the ovulum in his hands. As it began to glow scarlet, he peered into the glass. “We have company,” he said. “Four … no … five of the shadow people.”

“Will they attack?” Timothy asked.

“Only by stealth or if they perceive they have a strong advantage. They are cowards by nature, and few will come out of hiding unless their numbers are far greater than those of their enemies.” He pulled the ovulum closer. “Aha! Our search has been blessed. I see the murderer!”

“How can you tell?” Timothy tried to look into the ovulum. “I don’t see anything.”

“He carries the evidence. It shines against his blackness.”

Timothy raised the club. “What do we do?”

“Here. Take the ovulum.” Abraham handed it to Timothy, then charged ahead and dove on the ground, his arms grasping at the forest’s failing shadows. Rising to his knees, he wrestled a dark form and dashed it against the leafy floor.

“Help!” Angel fell to the ground. Two black hands latched on to her ankle and dragged her toward a thicket. She grasped a loose root and kicked against the arms, but her tightened fingers slid down the bark, stripping it bare.

Setting down the ovulum, Timothy lunged headfirst into the fray and slid into Angel’s attackers. He yanked their arms away from her while beating their heads with the club. The two assailants seemed rubbery in his hands. They slipped from his grasp, squeaking and moaning as they melded into the darkest shadows and disappeared.

Timothy pulled Angel to her knees and gently brushed leaves from her jacket and hair. “Are you all right?”

She spat out a leaf and nodded. “I think so.”

After picking up Enoch’s Ghost, Timothy combed his fingers through her tangled hair, loosening a clump of dirt. “Good. I’d hate to see anything happen”

“Well done!” Abraham called.

Timothy smiled and looked his way. The Prophet stood upright with his foot pinning a human-shaped shadow. He turned toward his captive and reached out his hand. “Now give it to me!”

The shadow, trembling under Abraham’s grinding foot, stretched out a long, spindly arm, jet black and flat as a ribbon. In its blunt hand it displayed an ovulum, much smaller than Enoch’s Ghost, but slightly larger than Angel’s companion.

Abraham snatched it away. “Did you slay one of my people?”

A low clicking sound rose from the dark form’s head.

“You just found it lying on the ground?” Abraham pointed at the larger ovulum in Timothy’s hand. “If Enoch judges you guilty, I will cast you into the light tunnel.”

The shadow stiffened. More clicks sounded from his imperceptible mouth, higher pitched and faster.

“Bring me Enoch’s Ghost,” Abraham said, extending his hand.

Timothy rushed over and set the ovulum in Abraham’s palm, while the shadow thrashed under his crushing foot. “Settle down,” Abraham ordered, “or I will plant my foot in your face!”

When his prisoner quieted, Abraham leaned over and set Enoch’s Ghost on its chest. As the ovulum began to glow with white light, a flood of clicks erupted. The light covered the shadow, melting away its black shroud. A white skeleton appeared in its place, a two-dimensional X-ray without depth or contrast, exposing thin strands that looked more like paper than bone.

At the center of its spidery ribcage, a red light, the size of a toddler’s fist, pulsed in an even rhythm.

Abraham grabbed the ovulum, and the prisoner returned to its shadowy state. He shook his fist at the dark form. “You have human life energy. You must have killed Dragon.”

New clicks rose, this time with a questioning inflection.

“Because you came back for his companion. That’s how I know.” Abraham glanced around. “He’s stalling for time. The others must have gone for help.” Grabbing the shadow’s foot, he stomped toward the river, dragging the struggling creature behind him. “Hurry. Evening is upon us. Until Pegasus appears over the ridge, we are vulnerable.”

Timothy and Angel followed. “Pegasus?” Timothy asked. “The winged horse?”

“Pegasus is First Moon tonight,” Angel replied, jogging to keep up. “Where have you seen a winged horse?”

“I haven’t seen one.” As they neared the river, Timothy gazed at Angel. Tears gleamed in her eyes—searching, forlorn, desperate. He wanted to say more … offer comfort, set her free from the pain that ripped through her heart. Yet, seeing her suffering again aroused his own submerged pain. Could it be the absence of a long-time mate, his Eve?

When they arrived at the waiting dragons, Abraham climbed Albatross’s neck, still dragging the shadow creature. “Ride with Angel,” he said to Timothy. “I must tie this scoundrel to my other seat.”

“Father!” Angel rose up on tiptoes, shouting over the waterfall’s roar. “Do you still have the companion?”

“One moment!” Abraham twisted the strap and fastened the shadow to the rear seat. Reaching into a pocket, he retrieved the smaller ovulum and handed it down to her.

A radiant smile lit up her face. She pressed the little egg against her chest before tucking it away under her jacket.

Abraham jumped into his pilot’s chair and waved his hand. “Hurry! The shadow people are massing at the forest edge!” He glanced up at the purple sky just over the ridge. “We have only seconds!”

Timothy and Angel scrambled up Grackle’s long neck and threw themselves into their seats. “Good thing you brought two!” he shouted, his arms flying as he buckled himself in.

“Candle strapped them on.” She tightened her belt with a quick jerk. “He wanted to come with me.”

A flood of darkness swarmed along the sand, like oil streaming on water, filling the gap between the forest and the dragons.

Angel slapped Grackle’s neck. “Fly! Now!”

Just as the black flood reached the dragon’s claws, Grackle launched into the sky. Serpent-like fingers jumped from the sand, but too late to catch the purple dragon.

Albatross beat his wings, but only rose a foot or two. Three dark limbs stretched between him and the beach as tight bands snaked around his back leg.

“Angel!” Timothy called, pointing down. “Look!”

Angel swung around and kicked Grackle’s left flank. “Dive!” she ordered. Grackle banked hard and swooped. Angel whistled and pointed at the struggling dragon’s leg. “Ice those vermin!”

As Abraham swatted Albatross’s side, the dragon’s wings faltered. His huge body edged closer and closer to the mass of outstretched arms. Grackle spewed a thin beam of blue light. The beam solidified into a streak of ice that pierced the bands holding the white dragon and spread a frosty coat over the dismembered bodies.

Albatross shot away. Grackle pulled up hard, narrowly avoiding the grasping black arms. After a few seconds, both dragons soared above the wiggling sea of shadows.

Now safe in the sky, Timothy bundled his jacket close and shivered. It was no wonder. With the wind once again assaulting his face, even colder now with the loss of sunshine, anyone would shiver. Yet, the tremors penetrated far more deeply than a mere chill could reach. Could it be fear?

As he gazed at Angel’s back, her long hair beat with the wind, too dark now to see its Nordic highlights, but as they rose above the ridge, Pegasus coated her frame in its creamy glow and painted her locks in gold.

He shivered again. This wasn’t fear. It was thrill—the thrill of danger and rescue, the exhilaration of saving a life and restoring a slender slice of comfort to a bereaved widow. An even deeper passion had awakened, and it stirred his heart. The beautiful woman sitting only a few inches away, bobbing up and down as she guided Grackle close to Albatross, flashed an image in his mind, another light-haired lady whose absence brought the coldest chill yet. But who was she? Who was this fleeting image, one of the many haunting portraits that streamed chaotically through his mind?

Someone was definitely missing. His heart and soul had been torn away. As the two dragons flew side by side in the frosty heavens, the scene looked all too familiar. But why? Now, soaring far above danger and safe from its grasp, the thrill of rescue streamed away, and the sense of loss replaced it as grief flooded his heart.

A sudden drop shook him back to reality. Grackle descended, following Abraham and Albatross as they headed toward the river’s outlet, now barely visible in the moon’s glow. Down in the valley, a bright light filtered through a dense clump of trees, interrupting evening’s dark curtain.

Abraham guided Albatross toward the light, and Angel followed, both dragons circling once before landing near the river’s edge just outside of the light-emitting woods.

“The shadow people should not trouble us here,” Abraham said, untying his prisoner. With his hand around the altered one’s throat, the Prophet seemed to be dragging along an animated cardboard cutout as it thrashed in his grip, clicking and squeaking.

After Angel dismounted, Timothy scrambled down Grackle’s outstretched neck. “What is this place?” he asked.

“The entrance to the light tunnel.” Abraham nodded toward the forest. “I mentioned that I wanted to show you a mystery, and now that we have this murderer to take care of, I can demonstrate its unusual properties.”

“Is this an execution?” Timothy asked.

“In a manner of speaking.” Abraham raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

Timothy spread out his hands. “Don’t you have trials here? Witnesses? Testimony?”

“I am the judge in this world, and this creature has borne witness against himself.” Abraham lifted the shadow person off the ground, letting his feet thrash as he clicked madly. “We are shooting a rabid dog. We are clubbing a viper. There is no prison that can hold him, and once he escaped, he would kill again. Should I allow this murderer to continue to threaten my people?”

Timothy dug his hands into his pockets. “I suppose you’re right. But what about his soul? Does he have an eternity?”

“He sold his soul. They all sold their souls at another time and place when they taught their followers the ways of the hypocrites. They were the blind leading the blind, and they have fallen into this pit. Now, they believe if they possess a companion, they will regain what they forfeited, but they have to drain a life force to snatch it away.”

Albatross whistled a mournful tune, and Grackle joined in. Angel rubbed the purple dragon’s scales and looked at Abraham. “The dragons fear this place, Father. Shall I command them to fly and return later?”

He shook his head. “They will be safe here. The shadows fear the light.”

Angel stroked each dragon’s neck and whistled a few short bursts. They nodded and huddled close together.

Still dragging the condemned shadow, Abraham strode away from the river’s edge, sweeping aside branches as he plunged into the light-flooded woods.