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The crowd chanted, “Hail, King Michael!”
“What’s wrong, Adam?” Abigail asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost. A guardian. King Michael—he’s the one who appeared to me the night my eyes were opened. Now he’s the size of a normal man. In the dream he looked ... different. But there’s no question—it was him. He showed me the truth. But he didn’t tell me he was the king.”
Abigail listened to the king’s speech for a moment, then turned away. “I don’t want to be here. Let’s go somewhere else.” She pushed through the crowd away from the king.
Adam caught up and took hold of her arm. “Wait. What’s wrong?”
“This doesn’t feel right. Something about him ... I don’t ... Please, can we just go?”
“Abigail, if you only met him, you would—”
“Met whom?” Adam started at the unmistakable voice and turned. King Michael stood before them.
Adam wondered if he should kneel, but something about Michael made him so comfortable that it didn’t seem necessary—or even fitting.
“I was explaining to my friend that she can trust you,” Adam said.
The king smiled. “I don’t expect you to trust me, Abigail. You’ve never even met me. Your caution is wise.”
“How ... do you know my name?”
“This is my realm. I know who you are and why you are here. And I must say, I’m impressed. Placing yourself at risk to help a friend avoid over-indulgence—it’s admirable.”
He spoke with disarming gentleness. “I understand your caution, but I assure you—you have nothing to fear here. I respect your convictions, and I will see to it you will never be pressured to do anything you do not want to do.” He turned with a wave of his arm. “Explore the orchard. You are free to leave whenever you please. My most important task as king, in fact, my only task, is to guarantee the most important value there is—freedom.”
The reference to freedom drew Adam’s mind back to his first day in this world. Twice that day he had felt trapped—deprived of freedom. Once when he emerged from the pond and couldn’t find his way home, and again in the city when the gates closed behind him. In the city, he felt trapped by the walls. At the pond, the whole wide world stood open to him. No boundaries, no rules, no authorities. But too many options had terrified him just as much as too few. The strange thought lodged itself in his mind—What is freedom?
Adam couldn’t understand why Abigail’s initial reaction had been so negative, but he was glad to see her face soften as the handsome, amiable king spoke.
Reassured by Michael, and by each other’s presence, Adam and Abigail entered the orchard hand-in-hand. Adam found it easy to abstain from fruit. He contented himself with the beauty of the orchard paradise and its rows of flourishing green trees stretching as far as the eye could see, the refreshing smells of the fruit, and, most of all, Abigail’s company.
As they walked, Abigail removed her belt and started to place it in her satchel. “Let me see that,” Adam said. With a hand on each end, he stretched the belt in front of him. “What are all these inscriptions? Mirror Room ... Blood Room ... Promise Room—what does this mean?”
“It was a gift. The Ruler gave it to me after my first time through the cottage. It’s supposed to be a reminder of my experiences in those rooms. He told me to wear it in times of danger and it would protect me.”
“Why are you taking it off?”
“It restricts my movement. And it’s rubbing my hip raw. Besides, I don’t sense any danger here.”
As they approached an overlook with a view of the orchard, they stopped to rest.
“Have you ever seen a panorama like this?” Adam asked.
“It’s amazing.” She leaned against him. “I love this spot. So beautiful—and quiet.”
A flock of birds swooped across their view. As they watched the undulating, surging mass, they drifted into a state of peaceful, contented half-sleep.
*****
Watson chewed his last bite of steak as Layth placed his napkin on his plate, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. “Unbelievable!”
“Was it ever!” Kailyn agreed. “It’s too bad Abigail didn’t make it today. She would have loved this spread.”
Layth eyed Watson. “Where is your sister? I haven’t seen her at a banquet for a few weeks now.”
“She is in the lowlands.”
Layth raised a brow.
“She is convinced that, with her influence, Adam will come around. Without her, she fears he would die of his wolf bites. She promised me she intends to abstain from all fruit. She is only attempting to reach Adam.”
Watson’s answer caught the attention of Charles Baxter, who was clearing dishes from the table. “Did you say Abigail has missed the last few meals because she is trying to persuade Adam to come to the meals?”
“She is confident she can win him,” Watson said.
“Why would Adam want to come to a place Abigail is willing to forsake? And how can Adam follow her to a place she is not going? Will she stimulate appetite in Adam by suppressing her own? And will she find the strength to help him by starving herself?”
As usual, Charles’ questions shed enough light on the matter to answer themselves.
Charles sharpened his gaze, put both hands on the table, and rattled Watson’s soul with the strength of his exhortation: “Watson, go get her.”
Suddenly, the room echoed with the sound of sliding chairs. Everyone stood as the Ruler appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, his unflinching gaze fixed squarely upon Watson. Interpreting Watson’s questioning eyes, the Ruler gave a single nod.
Watson had his orders and made his way to the exit.
The Ruler’s voice reverberated through the hall. “Watson.”
He turned. “Sir?”
“I will be with you.”
Watson bowed and disappeared out the door.
Another server stood beside Charles. “Do you think one of us should go with him?”
Charles remained quiet a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “We’re needed here. Now more than ever. I would like to go, but this isn’t a good time.”
“I see,” said the young server. Then he caught Charles’ eyes again. “You’re sure?”
Charles drew a deep breath, exhaled, and stared at the door. “No. I’m not.”
*****
Adam was getting worried. He watched helplessly as Abigail struggled to breathe. Her whole body trembled, and her deep blue eyes flashed fear. They seemed to plead with Adam, Help me.
He touched her forehead. Her fever is getting worse. The illness had come on suddenly and was progressing so quickly that, without medical care, he feared she wouldn’t survive.
“Could it be your body is reacting to the change in diet—going without banquet food?”
She shook her head. “It’s more serious than that. I need a doct—” a fit of coughing interrupted her words.
Adam helped her to her feet, pulled her arm around his neck, and they began working their way toward the city.
One mile of travel consumed the remaining daylight, and Abigail fell limp in his arms. “I can’t go any further.”
In that hour, they had encountered several travelers. Adam pleaded with each for help but wasn’t surprised when they not only declined but appeared angry that he would dare risk exposing them to sickness. In a world that valued body above soul, the present above the future, and comfort above conscience, people avoided disease at all costs.
“Leave me here,” Abigail said. “Go to the city and get help.”
“No way. There are predators out here. You would have no protection.” He took her in his arms and carried her. He made it another two miles before collapsing in exhaustion.
“We are still miles from the city,” he said. “We’ll have to camp here for the night.”
He found a sheltered spot, set Abigail on a patch of soft ground, and as the dark of night descended, they huddled against the cold.
Approaching footsteps caught Adam’s ear. Peering into the darkness, his mind raced to assemble words that might persuade the passerby to at least send some help from the city. But it was not a passerby. The moonlight lit several pairs of eyes close to the ground. When his eyes met theirs, they growled.