Enoch's Ghost (26 page)

“Gentle laughter filled her voice. She said, ‘I am an Oracle of Fire. I reside at Heaven’s altar.’

“‘If you are an oracle,’ I said, ‘Can you tell me the meaning of Enoch’s hymn?’

“‘The one he sings at dawn?’ she asked.

“Of course, I was thrilled that she knew the hymn. ‘Yes! Yes!’ I shouted.

“Her gentle laugh filled the tunnel again and echoed all around. ‘The meaning is reserved for the two men who will come to fulfill it.’

“I bowed and backed away, longing to look upon her, knowing that her radiant beauty must have been beyond compare. I assumed that gazing upon her would likely burn holes in my eyes forever, but the memory of her glory would be worth the pain.”

“But you can see,” Timothy said. “What happened?”

Abraham sighed. “As I was taking the garment off, I stumbled and hit my head on the wall. That blow knocked some sense into me, so I bade farewell to the oracle and hurried out.”

Timothy pointed at himself. “So you want me to go in there and see if she’ll tell me the meaning of the hymn.”

“Exactly. The very reason I brought you here.”

Timothy unzipped his jacket, raised it above his head and over his companion, and rezipped it. “Will that be enough?”

“You will soon find out.”

Timothy felt a hand taking his, and he followed its lead. “I will guide you to the entrance,” Abraham said, his voice muffled as it passed through the jacket, “then you will have to feel for the walls. The way is straight, and the path is narrow. You shouldn’t find any obstacles.”

Another hand rested on his elbowAngel’s now-familiar touch. “I will stay at your side as long as I can and meet you on your way out.”

Ashley sat up and zipped her jacket. “Thank you,” she said, nodding at Sapphira and Karen. She swiveled her head toward Roxil. “And thank you for the dry clothes.”

“It was the least I could do.” Roxil bowed her head low. “I was most impressed by your sacrificial act, and I apologize for my initial harsh reaction.”

Ashley reached for Sapphira. “Maybe my sister will offer us a ride out of here.”

“What’s that on your hand?” Sapphira pulled Ashley to her feet and turned her palm up. “Look!”

Ashley touched the edge of a wound on her palm, a rough hole with a copper colored stain encircling it. Blood oozed from the exposed muscle under the punctured skin. “My penny!” she whispered.

Karen caressed the heel of Ashley’s hand. “That looks awful! Does it hurt?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

“We don’t have any antiseptic,” Karen said, “but maybe we can make a bandage.”

“I don’t want a bandage.” Ashley dug into her pocket, withdrew the remaining dime and penny, and displayed them in her other palm. “I feel like I’m supposed to keep the wound in the light, but I’m not sure why.”

Sapphira rolled Ashley’s fingers over the coins. “Jehovah reveals mysteries only at the proper time and in the proper place. For now, we should go and see if Walter and Gabriel need help.”

Ashley gazed at the petite hands that clasped her fingers, then let her eyes connect with Sapphira’s sparkling blue orbs. Something deep within this amazing woman poured forth—compassionate honesty, uncompromising virtue, steadfast purpose. Nearly as old as the Earth itself, yet somehow brimming with tender youthfulness, she could be trusted without reservation.

Ashley sighed.
So what did she mean when she said she saw a dragon inside me?

“Is something wrong?” Sapphira asked, laying a tender hand on Ashley’s brow. “Your mind seems so far away.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Ashley shook her head and pulled back. “I need to contact Larry and see where the guys are.” She tapped her jaw and looked up at the gray sky above the top of the pit. “Larry, can you hear me?”

Only a buzz of static responded.

“Larry?”

Again, only static.

Ashley probed for the tooth transmitter with her tongue. “Either that blast from Excalibur fried my transmitter, or Larry’s run out of power.”

“Maybe we can get a better signal up top,” Karen said.

“Possibly.” Ashley scanned the area. “It looks like we’re back in the mobility room. Let’s get some of the gravity bricks, at least one of each color besides the one I already picked up. I have an idea.”

“There should be a manual override switch on the end of the bricks,” Sapphira said. “That will turn on the light.”

After finding Ashley’s shoulder bag, Sapphira and Karen rummaged through the scattered debris until they located the remaining six types of bricks and piled them in the bag.

Ashley set a hand on Karen’s shoulder. “Help me climb on Roxil, please.”

Roxil lowered her head to the ground, making her neck a stairway to her back. “I have never flown with human passengers, and our ascent will have to be almost vertical, so be prepared for a rough ride.”

Sapphira, carrying the bag of bricks, leaned down and kissed Roxil’s cheek. “I trust you completely.”

A plume of sparks flew from the dragon’s nostrils. “Neither your trust nor your kiss will make me fly any better.”

Sapphira smiled, and her voice lilted like a song. “On the contrary, I think they will.”

Roxil huffed another stream of sparks. “You humans are such a mystery.”

With Ashley holding onto Sapphira’s shoulders and Karen supporting Ashley from behind, the three walked up Roxil’s neck and seated themselves on her back, Karen at the front and Sapphira at the rear holding the bag in her lap.

As Roxil rose to her haunches, Ashley leaned back toward Sapphira. “Ever flown before?”

“Not on a dragon. I flew pretty high over a snake-infested swamp one time, but I’ll have to tell you that story later.”

Ashley looped her arms over the spine in front of her and held on tightly. “Then hang on to me. Dragon riding is pretty rough even without a vertical climb.”

Roxil beat her wings and lifted off the ground, pointing almost straight up to avoid the mobility room walls. Flying in an upward spiral, she rose faster and faster, as if scaling the old stairway.

Ashley’s stomach churned, and Sapphira’s tight grip on her abdomen made it worse. If this vertical climb didn’t end soon, she would heave her guts for sure.

After almost three minutes, Roxil leveled off and skidded to the grass on the mountaintop.

Karen began to rise, but Ashley pushed down on her shoulders. “No use getting off. We’ll have to leave in a minute anyway.” She tapped her jaw once again. “Larry, can you hear me now?”

This time a voice seemed to break through the static, but the words were too garbled to understand.

“Larry,” she said, raising her voice, “go ahead and boost your signal even if power is low. We have to find Walter. If you’ve been in touch with him, let us know where to look.”

The static reply seemed more garbled than ever.

“Voice transmission takes too much power.” She twisted around, reached into the bag in Sapphira’s lap, and pulled out her handheld computer. She spoke again into the air as she turned it on. “Don’t bother with voice digitization. Just send ASCII characters to my handheld.”

She stared at the computer screen. At first, the LCD just stared back at her, but after a few seconds, letters began to appear, slowly at first, then faster.

Ashley read them out loud. “I have not heard from Walter, but since the media reports indicate a power grid failure, I suggest that you find a nearby power plant. Even if Walter has not gone there, perhaps you can learn what is causing the crisis.” She scanned the horizon for smokestacks. “Can you tell us where the closest one is?”

More letters lined up across the screen. “I do not have that data stored locally, and my Internet access is down. May I suggest following the power lines to their source?”

Ashley groaned. “They might lead to a transfer station, not a power plant. It could take hours to trace the source.”

“How about the tracks?” Karen said, pointing at the ground. “They might not go very far, but at least we’ll get started in the right direction.”

“True, but then what? We’ll be back to searching for power lines.”

Roxil swung her head toward her riders. “Your discussion is becoming tedious. Shall we follow the tracks or not?”

Ashley nodded. “Let’s go. It’s worth a try.”

With a gust of wind and a spray of water droplets, Roxil launched into the air again, this time with a more gentle angle. Following the footprints, they soon crossed the line of trees, and the trail was quickly obscured.

Roxil turned on her eyebeams and scanned the leaf-strewn slope. “I see only an odd imprint every once in a while, as if someone has intentionally scarred the ground.”

“Follow it, Roxil!” Ashley yelled.

Fanning out her wings, she descended to a lower flight level, staying just above the treetops. “Easily done. The marks are quite consistent.”

Ashley clenched her fist. “Good ol’ Walter,” she said with a sigh. “He remembered.”

Roxil huffed a blast of flames. “It is time to fry some giants!”

With Naamah grasping Elam’s shoulders, Dikaios galloped along the path, his stride so fast and smooth, they seemed to glide. Only a few bumps and the horse’s heavy breathing reminded them that a powerful animal carried them across the Bridgelands. The storm clouds racing behind them lost ground as the amazing creature tore across grassy meadows, leaped over small ponds, and scaled steep hogbacks as if they were tapered hillocks.

As they reached the top of a rocky ridge, Dikaios slowed to a trot, allowing his riders a moment to take in the scene before them. Pristine grasslands stretched out for miles with lush trees surrounding dozens of pools that dotted the verdant canvas, like sparkling sapphires inlaid on green velvet.

Elam whistled. “If this is just Heaven’s front porch, I wonder what it looks like inside!”

Naamah gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and whispered, “This is what Eden must have been like before the fall.”

“Words are inadequate to describe the inner beauty,” Dikaios said. “I am but a servant of the groom and have been invited inside but once. My single visit was enough to keep the vision of perfection forever imprinted in my mind. My one desire in life is for the promised day to come when I will take my master back to the Earth to do battle against the wicked. After his conquest, I will carry him inside the gate of pearls where the grass is far greener and more delicious, the air is never polluted by the odor of death, and my master shines a light that never sets or is veiled by clouds.” Dikaios turned back to Elam, blinking away tears. “Then I will stay with my master forever.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Elam said, patting the horse’s neck. “How much farther to the shield?”

“Do you see the horizon ahead, where the blue touches the grass like a curtain draped across a stage? It stretches from the plunging cliff on the left to the matching cliff on the right.”

Elam shaded his eyes with his hand. “I see it.”

“The blue backdrop is not sky. That is the door to the altar, Heaven’s shield.”

“The sky is actually the shield?”

“And the eastern horizon is the passage.” Dikaios looked back at the gaining storm clouds. “Let us go. We will be there very soon.”

Dikaios began with a trot, then accelerated into a full gallop. As he ran, the sky in the distance seemed to get bigger and bigger, as if it had become a painting that someone carried closer and closer every second. Finally, he stopped at a point where the grass ended at a line of blue, appearing as a cliff that plunged into nothingness.

“We have arrived,” Dikaios announced.

Elam leaned toward the barrier. “So, how do we get in? I never found the scarlet key the gatekeeper told me I needed.”

“Look at your hand. The key is already in your grasp.”

Elam opened his fingers and stared at his palm. “What do you mean? I’m not carrying anything.”

“Oh, but you are. You bear the marks of righteousness.”

Elam flexed his fingers. His hand ached, still oozing blood from the cuts and scrapes he earned on the bridge. “I think I see what you mean.”

Naamah reached forward and showed him her palm. “Mine is bloodstained, but the blood is not my own.”

“Nor does the blood on Elam’s palm belong to him.” Dikaios bobbed his head at the horizon. “Touch the shield, both of you. The righteous may enter immediately, and the contrite may plead for a new heart.”

Elam slid off and helped Naamah dismount. He edged close to the blue boundary, reaching out with his hand. As his fingers neared the expanse, he felt a tingling sensation and drew back.

“Go ahead,” Dikaios said. “It will not harm you. You have the key.”

Elam touched the border and flattened his palm against it. A hand-shaped set of tiny waves rode away from his skin, like ripples on a pond, yet they looked more like wrinkles of light—sparkling, multiple shades of blue. The sensation tickled, sending a warm flow up his arm and into his chest. His heart felt ablaze, a good, soothing heat that emanated into his brain and ignited a surge of emotion—intense, passionate feeling that couldn’t be suppressed.

“Dikaios,” Elam said loudly, “you are magnificent. You are a worthy servant to your master, and he will be pleased to have you at his side forever.”

Dikaios bowed his head but said nothing.

Elam turned to Naamah and smiled. Words poured forth unbidden as the surge of passion continued. “Your harlotries are forgiven, O daughter of the ancient days. Touch the shield of Heaven, sing a psalm to your blessed Savior, and fear not to shed your cloak, for you will be clothed with righteousness.”

Reaching out a petite, trembling hand, Naamah leaned toward the shield. As soon as her fingers touched the blue light, a radiant white halo enveloped her body. Her skin glowed, and her face shone like that of an angel. A glorious smile spread across her face, and she began jumping up and down on her toes, a beautiful song trilling from her lips.

The fruit of Eden’s ancient tree,

The seeds I plucked so long ago,

To plant and harvest scarlet sins

Are now forgiven, white as snow.

Forgiven! Shout the joyful truth!

This harlot’s wanton flesh is slain.

Forever bound unto my Lord,