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Adam’s first night back in the lowlands dragged interminably. His exhausted body fought his racing mind in the battle for sleep. The grotesque image of Levi’s mutilated corpse refused to leave his consciousness.
He recalled the day he first met Levi. That night, after learning that Levi had murdered George, Adam would have welcomed the sight of Levi’s dead body. But now it broke his heart, as if he had lost another dear friend. Watson’s words rang in his mind—that Levi would have to answer to the Ruler for his crimes. Was the Ruler’s justice that violent?
The thought terrified Adam. But why? I’m no murderer. I wanted to kill him that day, but I didn’t touch him. If anything, I should be rewarded for my restraint.
But then why did he feel so guilty? He imagined himself in the Ruler’s courtroom and shuddered. Did he deserve what Levi got just for having murderous thoughts he never even acted on? It was a prospect he refused to accept ... but couldn’t deny.
It seemed like only moments after he finally drifted off to sleep that the light warmed his face. His eyelids refused to open. How could it be morning already? His first sensation was the same as always after going to bed eating fruit—nausea.
He forced his eyelids open, squinted, and realized morning had not come. A shining figure lit the dark landscape in a wide radius. He was considerably larger than any of the Great Ones, more muscular, and dressed in exquisite white robes. Both his face and his clothes emitted brilliant light, and his voice boomed like thunder.
“On your feet, Adam.”
Spellbound, Adam rose in awe of the glorious creature, yet at the same time, something about him set Adam at ease. The great being exuded benevolence and goodness.
“You’ve had quite a restless sleep tonight, haven’t you?”
Adam meant to nod, but his head hardly moved.
“It’s not surprising. Abigail and her friends pressed you pretty hard. They’re friendly, kind—nice folks. But they ask you to believe things that go against everything you observe to be true. I can see how you would be conflicted.”
“Exactly!” Adam said.
“The conflict within you is normal. We naturally want to trust people who show us kindness, and there is great appeal in the things they promise. Food so satisfying that merely desiring it gives you strength? Who wouldn’t want that? But you’re right to be uneasy about Levi and the other bodies.”
“Do you know what happened to them?” Adam asked.
“They were all slaughtered by the high country ruler and dumped here. It happens routinely, I’m sad to say.”
“May I ask—who are you? And how do you know everything I’m feeling?”
“My name is Michael. I am the chief guardian, and I have come here to help you find your way.”
It was easy for Adam to believe this being was a guardian. In fact, he seemed like something more than a guardian. “Tell me—who should I believe? The cottage people or the Great Ones?”
“If I answer that question, I become just another voice you have to decide whether to believe. How would that help you?”
“Yeah, I ... guess you’re right.”
“Every person must answer the question for himself. Never let someone else tell you what to believe. Listen to your heart. What does it tell you?”
Adam considered this. “I feel like the answer is somewhere in the middle. I know I’d be happier if I cut back on fruit. I don’t like feeling sick, and I don’t like losing control when I eat. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I think ... I think I want to be a cottage person. But I don’t want to take it to the extremes of people like Kailyn or Watson. Moderation in all things, right?”
“You are a wise man, Adam. Few people have the courage to think for themselves in these matters, which leads to extremism on one side or the other. And it is extremism that suppresses freedom.”
Hours later, the sunrise touched Adam’s face. He sat up, fully rested and without a hint of nausea. It was the best he’d felt in a long time, and he was glad to be back in the lowlands.
He stared at the spot where Michael had stood. Was that a dream? A vision? Or was it a real guardian? It had to be more than a dream.
Adam stretched and rose to his feet. He drew in a chest full of the crisp morning air. Then, the sweetest sound he knew touched his ears.
“You’re awake.”
Adam spun. “Abigail! You came!” He wrapped her in his arms. “When did you ...”
“I’ve been here a while. I couldn’t ... I can’t let you just walk away. I understand why you didn’t like the banquet hall, but I came to ask—would you come with me to the cottage? If you just saw the inside, I think it would change your mind, especially if—”
Adam took hold of her hands and his eyes brightened. “Last night I had an experience that ... I don’t know if I can describe it. But everything is clear now.” He squeezed her hands. “I’ve decided I want to be a cottage person.”
“Oh, Adam, that’s wonderful! You won’t regret it. I can’t wait to tell Watson and Kailyn. Let’s go!”
She tugged his hand, but he stood firm. “No. I have to do it my own way, here, in the lowlands. This is my home.”
“Oh ... I see,” she said, eyes to the ground. Then she lifted her face with a dull smile—the dullest he’d ever seen from her. “I understand. I won’t pressure you.”
“You won’t have to pressure me. When I’m with you, I don’t need fruit. I’m just not ready to live in the high country. There is so much of the world I still want to explore—with you by my side.”
Adam knew she would miss her friends and the banquets. He felt a little guilty for pressuring her, but maybe it would be good for her to expand her horizons and explore the lowlands. There was more to the world than just the high-country.
Abigail bit her lip, then drew a breath. “I will go with you, but you have to understand—I will not eat the fruit. We can explore, but no fruit.”
“No fruit,” he agreed. “In fact ...” He turned to the east, “the orchard is that way ...” He glanced to the south, then squared his shoulders due north. “I’ve never explored the northern country. Let’s go this way. It’ll take us far from the orchard.”
They set out on the northward road, and the air was still.
Within an hour, the road narrowed to a path, increasingly rocky and overgrown, then ended at the foot of a sheer cliff.
Adam craned his neck. “Feel like making a climb?”
“No.”
“Come on. Where’s your adventuresome spirit?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m tired, okay? I’m not going up that.”
“Fine. You have a better plan?”
“It wasn’t far back we passed a trail that branched off toward the northeast. It looked rough, but not as bad as this.”
Retracing their steps, they found the path. Soon that trail ended and they took another branch to the right, then another, until they were traveling due east toward the orchard. In that direction, the rugged paths widened to roads, crowded with travelers.
When the orchard came into view, Abigail stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re going to face temptation,” she said. “We need to be ready.”
“Just walking through the orchard? It won’t be a problem for you, right? After years of enjoying the banquets—I thought that changed a person’s appetites.”
“It does. But memories of the fruit never really go away. I’ve missed several banquets now, and I’m hungry. And I can feel part of me hoping to stumble across some fruit.”
She said something else, but a trumpet fanfare not far ahead drowned her out. A bend in the road lined with trees blocked their view, so they hurried to see what was happening. Progress slowed as the crowd increased.
Adam caught a man in the throng. “What’s going on?”
“The king has come! He is about to make a proclamation.”
Adam took Abigail’s hand and pressed through the crowd. “I’ve lived in the city since I was a kid, and I’ve never seen the king. I’ve only heard about him. Come on! I want to see—”
Adam stopped, let go of Abigail’s hand, and stared.