Chapter 20
Sapphira held out her dim lantern, searching the stone wall for the familiar hole. Several sections of the tunnel system had caved in, destroying the usual landmarks. Still, the hot springs survived, so this tunnel should lead them to … Yes. There it was, the drawing of Yereq as a spawn Paili had etched with a hunk of limestone so many years ago. The hovel wouldn’t be far now.
She looked back at Bonnie, Irene, Shiloh, and Gabriel trailing by quite a distance as they stepped over rocks that littered the floor. Gabriel stretched a wing around Bonnie and pulled her close, both smiling as they chatted happily.
And why not? He had been her invisible guardian angel for years. She had even seen him during one of his rare moments of semitransparency. Bonnie was five or six years old, a weeping child whose heart had been broken by her father’s cruel name-calling. In many ways, he had restored a little girl’s faith in angelic protectors, though he wasn’t really that sort of angel.
Now, they were together, able to relive those tender moments, as well as another fateful event, a snowy December night when Palin came to call in Bonnie’s bedroom, ready to slay her as she slept. Somehow, Gabriel’s prayers for her protection were miraculously answered, and Palin simply walked away.
Gabriel stretched out his other wing and pulled Shiloh in. Although she hadn’t even been aware, he had also acted as her guardian angel. Both laughing as they talked, it sounded like he was now revealing his failed attempt to keep her safe that terrible day when Morgan kidnapped her at the Glastonbury Tor and took her to the sixth circle of Hades.
Sapphira turned her attention back to her task, searching the tunnel walls for her hovel. After a couple of minutes, she spotted the low opening. “I found it,” she called.
When the others caught up, Sapphira ducked under the chest-high opening and dropped the two feet or so to her hovel’s floor. Bonnie joined her and, cinching up her backpack, extended a hand to help her mother. Shiloh, also wearing a backpack, hopped down without a problem, but Gabriel had to scrunch his wings to squeeze through. Soon they all stood in front of two cubbyholes in the wall.
Sapphira set her lantern on the floor. “I thought Bonnie and her mother could sleep here. That way they’d be surrounded by rocks, and maybe the slayer wouldn’t be able to find her.”
Bonnie crawled into one of the cubbyholes and lay on a thin mattress, poking a finger through a ragged perforation in the side. “How long did you stay here?”
Sapphira looked at Bonnie’s finger. A strip of dark tape covered her rubellite ring. “Part of the time,” Sapphira replied, “I lived in the museum room, but if you count it all together …” She shrugged. “Somewhere between four and five thousand years. I lost track.”
“Five thousand years?” Irene touched Sapphira’s cheek. “You poor girl! How could you stand being in this dark place for so long?”
Sapphira sat down on the floor and hovered her hand over the lantern’s outer glass. “When you’re born in darkness, and it’s all you know, it doesn’t seem so bad. You don’t really even notice it. But once you’ve been in the light, darkness is the worst place in the world.” She breathed in deeply and smiled. “At least we won’t be here that long this time.”
Gabriel stretched out his wings, nearly filling the small chamber before pulling them back in. “This place isn’t exactly the Holiday Inn, but it’s … uh … cozy.” He looked up at the entrance hole. “Where are the rest of us going to sleep?”
“I thought Shiloh and I could use the pair of hovels in the next chamber, but it doesn’t really matter who sleeps where, except for you, Gabriel. You can go to Elam’s old room.”
“Elam’s room?” Gabriel hugged himself and spoke in mock horror. “You mean where that slave-driving giant used to beat Elam mercilessly, eat all his food, and drink himself to sleep?”
Thoughts of Elam’s tortures still stung Sapphira’s mind, but she knew Gabriel wanted to set up a joke, so she obliged with a big smile. “Yep. The torture capital of the underworld. If Nabal’s still there, he can break you in with the whip tonight.”
“Sounds perfect. You girls should bring some popcorn and watch.” He nodded toward the hovel’s exit. “Should I wander around in darkness until I find it?”
“No, silly. I’ll show you in a minute.” Sapphira reached toward the wall and set her finger in the fist-sized hole at its base. “It’s right through there, so we can communicate.” As she pushed her finger through, her mind drifted back thousands of years to the time she pushed handfuls of stew through this hole to feed Elam on the other side. Even now her fingers tingled as she imagined Elam licking the stew from her skin, an invisible boy so starved that he had to get every drop of precious nourishment. “Maybe Shiloh and I should take this room after all.”
She pointed to the curved bone in Irene’s hand. “Is that the one Enoch said I was supposed to take?”
“Yes.” Irene handed it to her. “Do you know what to do with it?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon.”
Once Sapphira had settled everyone in their hovels, she and Gabriel walked together in the tunnel. Sapphira paused at a side corridor where the sound of falling water sent an echo all around. Although the source was no more than a six-foot-wide stream, the tunnel magnified its sound into that of a hundred cascading rivers.
“You can take your bath now,” she said, extending the lantern. “Girls will go in the morning. No worries about running out of hot water here, but you’ll have to drip dry. Maybe Yereq can get us some towels the next time he brings supplies.”
“Not a problem.” He took the lantern and let it swing from his finger. “But how will you find your way in the dark if you’re not allowed to use your power?”
“With this.” She withdrew the ovulum from underneath her shirt. As it rocked back and forth on her palm, it cast a red aura all around. “I think Enoch is ready to talk to me, so I’m going to find a quiet place to listen.”
“Sounds good. I guess no one will bother you down here.”
“Not likely. I shouldn’t be gone too long, so when you’re ready for me to show you your bed, set the lantern on the floor here, and I’ll know it’s okay to come back.”
She turned to walk away, but Gabriel grasped her wrist and pulled her gently toward him. He lowered the lantern to the floor, then pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as he whispered, “Can I be completely honest with you?”
The lantern’s light flickered in his face, reflecting in his sparkling tears. His touch sent chill bumps across her skin. She gave a shrug, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Uh … sure. I mean, we’re going to be stuck together for quite a while. We should be honest with each other.”
He kept his eyes locked on hers. “I’m not trying to be forward or anything, but I wanted to let you know that you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. You saved my life. You saved Bonnie’s life. You saved Shiloh’s life, too. And you did it all after suffering alone for thousands of years.”
As a wave of warmth pulsed through her body, she lifted a finger. “It was a team effort. You helped me rescue Bonnie.”
He laid his palms on her cheeks. They felt cool against her hot skin. “Learn to take a compliment. You are an amazing girl, Sapphira Adi, and I want you to know that someone appreciates all you’ve done.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Now go talk to Enoch, and tell him I said, ‘Howdy.’”
He picked up the lantern and walked into the side corridor, slowly fading as darkness swallowed his form. With the sound of tumbling water again dominating the tunnel, she stared at the residual glow. Her cheeks still flamed. Prickles coated her skin. His gentle touch and soft words brought Elam to mind.
She sighed deeply. Oh, how she ached to be with him again! Would they ever get together? Would she ever have a chance to whisper the words she had longed to say to him for centuries?
As she walked toward the museum room, guided by the ovulum’s glow, she shook her head. Maybe she and Elam would never be together. They were separated by more than just miles. She was once again trapped in the depths of Hades while he fought against demonic enemies in another realm. Would he survive? Would she ever leave this place once and for all? Maybe they both had been called by God to suffer and die without ever fulfilling their own dreams, just like many faithful saints of times gone by. As children, they had lived as slaves to Morgan, suffering for many years under her cruel hand. Now they served God, but their suffering continued.
Sapphira passed the old portal room, the chamber that housed the spinning column of light Morgan had used to send her and Mardon to the upper world. That first time in the land of Shinar had been the most wondrous day of her life—her first glimpse of the sun, her first conversations with unshackled humans, and her first view of dance, a man and woman spinning and leaping in gorgeous costumes bearing every color of the rainbow. Up to that point, the colors in her life had been brown, gray, and orange, and each one of those muted by the darkness of the underworld. Yet, even as wonderful as that day had been, it soon crumbled into the worst day imaginable. After the dragons toppled Nimrod’s tower, she had to return in shame to her slavery.
She squeezed past a fallen boulder and entered the final tunnel. All of life had been like that. She would witness an amazing miracle and experience God’s tender love and care, but the miracle would soon be followed by a tragic collapse, and she always ended up back in the same place … the mines. She had outlived Morgan and Naamah, Nimrod and Mardon, and most of the whip-bearing Nephilim. Now she was queen of the caves, the empress of emptiness, once again marooned and wandering alone in the midst of the loneliest place in the universe.
As she approached the opening to the museum room, she slowed her pace. Ahead lay the massive chamber where she had spent so many hundreds of years alone watching the world above through a portal screen. She extended her hand, allowing the ovulum’s red glow to illuminate the area. Directly in front of her, the museum looked like it always did, yet now, shrouded in a scarlet cloak, it seemed more sinister than ever. At one time it had served as the lower third of the great Tower of Babel, a pitiful excuse for a stairway to heaven, but now it stood as a blood-drenched prison guard, a warden who once loomed over her, marking off year after year of solitude as the only witness to her sufferings.
The portal screen that had always given her glimpses of worlds beyond was gone. It had been the only window to light and freedom, but someone slammed it shut, boarded it over, and made this prison darker than ever.
The ovulum’s light slowly brightened. Enoch’s familiar voice emanated from within. “Why are you so troubled, my child?”
She let her sad smile stay in place. “The mines remind me of so many bad things. I thought I would never have to come back.”
“Yet, so many good things happened here, as well. It was here that you watched Bonnie and gained the kind of faith she has in the Messiah. It was from here that you were able to leap into the Great Key and create the covenant veil that ushered the residents of Dragons’ Rest into Heaven. It was here that you learned how to suffer in darkness so that you could bring comfort to your friends who are now called to do the same.”
“I know. Keep reminding me.” She brought the ovulum closer to her eyes and tried to find Enoch within, but red mist veiled the center. “How long am I going to be here?”
“I expect that it will be quite a long time, but it depends on how events transpire in Second Eden. Your friend Elam will help determine both the destiny of that land and the timing of your departure from this place.”
“Will I ever get to be with Elam? I mean, I know I’ll get to see him in Heaven when we die, but I wanted to someday …” She paused and bit her lip.
“You want to be united with him through the covenant of marriage.” A warm, gentle laugh flowed from the ovulum. “Yes, I know, dear child, but I cannot answer that question. I simply have no idea. God’s purposes are often fulfilled through the sacrifice of our personal desires.”
She nodded. “So I have more sacrifices ahead of me?”
“That remains to be seen.” The mist billowed for a moment, then settled. “Now let us go into the museum room. I want to remind you of another wonderful event that happened in one of these underground chambers.”
With the ovulum’s glow as bright as ever, she had no problem finding her way through the museum’s broken door. She walked to the center of the room and stopped at the edge of the circular planter where the tree of life still stood. Although greenery covered most of the branches, it bore no fruit and seemed to be the same height as before.
She looked around. The magnetic bricks she had placed to give light to the tree no longer emitted their colorful beams. Apparently the lack of energy played a part in stopping the tree’s fruit production.
Still, the tree felt like an altar, a place to come for meditation and prayer, a place of silence. She raised the ovulum to her lips and whispered to Enoch, “I’m here.”
“Do you have the rib?”
She lifted it close to the ovulum, still whispering. “Right here.”
“Kneel at the side of the tree’s planter and lay it in the soil near the trunk.”
Balancing the ovulum in her palm, Sapphira lowered herself to her knees and set the bone on the cool, dark earth. As she looked at the soil, the contrasting shades of white on black sharpened. Tiny pores in the bone’s surface magnified, enabling her to see minute grains of dirt embedded within, and her emotions sank even further than before, two sure signs that a portal was near.
“Where does this portal lead?” she asked.
“To a place that is not ready to receive you yet. You must not attempt a passage until I give you permission.”
“Okay. I put the bone by the tree. Anything else?”
“Did you bring the soil Yereq collected in the Bridgelands?”
Sapphira dug into her jeans pocket and pulled out a handful of dirt. “I’ve got it.”
“Sprinkle it evenly on top of the tree’s bed.”
Holding her fist over the soil, she opened the gaps between her fingers while scooting around the planter on her knees. When she finished, she brushed her hand on her jeans. “Okay. That’s done.”
“Now set the ovulum down, call a hot fire to your hands, and rub the bone’s surface. Pick it up to make sure you massage the entire bone, but keep your hands over the soil.”
After setting the ovulum gently at the edge of the planter, Sapphira raised her hands, her palms pointing upward, and whispered, “Ignite. And make it hot.” Fire leaped from her hands. White and at least a foot tall, the flames seemed hot even to her fireproof skin. She picked up the bone and wrapped her fingers around both ends, then, pushing it through her grip, she coated the entire surface with her blaze.
As she rubbed, the bone sizzled and popped. Radiant white drops spilled to the soil, and sparkling smoke rose toward the upper reaches of the tower. The bone began to shrink in her grip, becoming more slender with each second. “Enoch!” she called. “It’s melting!”
The mist in the ovulum swirled. “When it completely dissolves, spread the residue around and cover it over.”
Sapphira continued to massage the bone. Within a minute, it shrank to the width of a straw and then vaporized. She blew on her hands, extinguishing the flames. Using one finger, she touched the white powder and mixed it into the soil. Soon, no trace of it remained on the surface.
Still on her knees, she straightened and looked at the ovulum. “Anything else?”
“No, my faithful child. You have done well.”
“But what did I just do?”
“You have fertilized our little garden. A time will come when fire will energize the soil, and any dragonkind, whether still with dragon essence or not, will have his or her dragon traits restored.”
“You did this for Bonnie, didn’t you?”
“Again you have guessed my purposes. Since I am unaware of her current state, I devised this plan to restore her traits if they are gone.”
“I thought she was given a choice,” Sapphira said. “Why would you take it away now?”
“If she chose to give up her traits before, and she wants that choice to go on, my plan will not work. But I suspect, with the current danger, she will want her wings whether she has them now or not.” The ovulum’s glow faded. “Now you must go back to the others and wait.”
Sapphira slumped her shoulders. Wait? The word weighed down her heart. If only she knew how long the wait might be, it would be tolerable, but this would be like walking down one of the underground passages without a lantern. Nothing but gloom as far as the eye could see. No light at the end of the tunnel.
As she picked up the ovulum and rose to her feet, every limb felt like lead. Why would Jehovah make her suffer so? Centuries ago at the hot springs, as a slave girl with a dangerously infected wound, she met Jehovah, knowing him as Elohim at the time. He had healed her with a touch on the shoulder and asked her to dance with him, and he provided the light she needed, the strength to go on.
She closed her eyes and relived that night, pretending the spring was a fountain in a ballroom. In her imagination, when the touch on her shoulder flooded her skin with warmth, she turned and pointed at herself. Me? You want to dance with me?
She painted the face of her invisible partner, giving him Elam’s features. He smiled and nodded. Of course, my love. I want to dance with you. As he took her hands, music filled the air. They stepped in time with the lovely tune, performing a waltz as elegant as any that had ever graced a dance floor, and when he spun her around, tiny droplets sprayed her skin with soothing coolness.
As she drank in the pleasure, she opened her eyes, but instead of the museum’s dark inner chamber, she saw a ballroom filled with light. A real fountain shot sparkling water into the air, raining droplets over her and her dance partner. She gave his hands a gentle squeeze. Real flesh! She was really dancing with … Elam?
Enoch himself stood next to the fountain, holding an open book in his hands.
“Enoch?” Sapphira called, her voice quaking, “What’s happening?”
Elam tilted his head. “Why are you calling for Enoch?”
His voice barely loud enough to overcome the music, Enoch spoke through the fountain’s misty shower. “It is a gift from Jehovah, my child. It is the light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Do you mean this is what will happen to me? Is it a wedding festival?”
“I do not know. It is Jehovah’s gift, not mine. Enjoy what he has provided, and dance with your beloved.”
The tree blazed with fire and disappeared along with the ovulum. Elam, now dressed in a radiant white tunic and trousers, his hair perfectly brushed and smelling of wildflowers, leaned close. “Yes, it’s a wedding festival,” he said. “Why do you find it hard to believe?”
She pressed her cheek against his chest. “Hold me! Just … just hold me!”
As he wrapped his arms around her, he swept her back into the dance. Barely able to move her feet with his, she cried into his shirt. The music rose to a crescendo, and the song she had heard so many centuries ago, when Elohim healed her body and soul, now returned, this time in the voice of Elam.
So dance, my child, and feel my love
In rain, the healing drops of life.
Forsake your cares, your toils and pain,
The wounds and scars of slavish strife.
O cast aside the chains of grief
And reach for heaven’s grace above;
Sapphira Adi, dance with me!
Enfold yourself in arms of love.
She pulled him into a tighter embrace. His heart thrummed in her ear, beating faster and faster. The fountain rained down. Droplets joined the tears on her hot face. Even as her aching shoulder had found relief so long ago, now the water soothed her aching heart. Someday all of this suffering would end. Someday she would be with her love forever.
But for now, she had work to do. She had to communicate this gift, the joy of Jehovah’s presence, a healing salve that would soothe hearts that ached to be with loved ones. No matter how long they had to wait in caves of darkness, someday they would emerge into the light, and they would learn that Jehovah’s purpose, the reason for their suffering, would not be in vain.
“I have to go now,” she whispered.
“I know.” Elam drew back.
“I have something to tell you, something I’ve been wanting to tell you for hundreds of years.” Smiling, she took in a deep breath. “I lo—”
“No.” He made a shushing noise. “Wait.”
Her heart sank. “But why?”
“I don’t want to hear those words until this dream comes true.” As he released her, he lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers. She waved back in the same way, smiling again as her tears flowed.
Elam, the fountain, and the dance floor all faded, and the inner sanctum of the museum reappeared. Sapphira drew her hand to her mouth and kissed her fingers. “Someday, my love. Someday.”
Sitting on the mobility room floor, Yereq rested his back against a pile of boulders. So far, though clouds blocked the sun, and cold air filtered into the pit, all was peaceful. After all, who could possibly rappel thousands of feet into this hole? And if anyone did, would he be ready to face a Naphil bearing a sword?
Yereq pushed his hands behind his head. Even if a slayer could get past him, he still had to move the boulders, another unlikely feat, and find his way through the maze of tunnels. Yes, everything seemed safe enough. He could even leave on an occasional expedition for food, making sure to come back before anyone had time to dig through the rubble.
He had already killed and salted a deer and then left its hide and some meat at a farmer’s doorstep, ample payment for the vegetables he had gathered from his garden. Yereq chuckled at the note Bonnie had written to the farmer, an eloquent missive that explained her plight as a teenager hiding from a stalking murderer. She begged him not to tell the authorities, lamenting that the murderer had friends in high places and would surely track her down.
The gentle farmer, an elderly man who lived alone, had left a reply on the same doorstep, assuring her that she could have all she needed. He had only one request, that she would write to him regularly. Since he was all alone, except for three cats, he had no one else to talk to. Bonnie, of course, was delighted and promised to do so.
As Yereq pondered how long his haul of supplies would last, an odd whipping sound drifted to his ears. He shot to his feet and searched the sky. A helicopter glided into view as it descended into the pit.
Grabbing his sword, Yereq ducked into a crevice he had chiseled out for himself and watched the small helicopter. As it drew closer, its details clarified. The pilot, wearing sunglasses and a long-billed baseball cap, was unfamiliar. Yet, there was no mistaking the passenger—Mardon, his former master, older, to be sure, but his ovular head and piercing eyes were unequalled.
The helicopter landed, raising plumes of dust and sweeping much of the gritty remains of the mobility room to the walls. When the blades slowed, Mardon jumped out and began to search the floor, brushing away pebbles with his shoe. The pilot, now brandishing a machine gun, stood at the side of the helicopter.
Something on Mardon’s shoulder sparkled red. He looked at it and spoke, but he was too far away to hear, especially with the helicopter engine still running. The glint appeared to be a crystalline egg, smaller than a normal man’s fist.
Mardon pushed his hands into his pockets and walked along the edges of the floor, looking up and down the walls. When he reached the pile of boulders, he stopped and picked up one of the smaller stones.
Yereq tightened his grip on his sword. Should he strike? If Mardon escaped to the helicopter, he would know for certain that his prey had hidden somewhere behind the rubble. Then he would return with an army if need be to attack the giant who had vainly tried to kill him. If the pilot ripped into Yereq with a volley of bullets, they could take their time and enter the tunnel whenever they pleased.
As Yereq tried to decide what to do, Mardon spoke. “You don’t sense anything?”
The egg flashed red.
“I followed the rope as far as I could. It’s just too thin, and we’d have to walk.”
The red light faded and pulsed a steady, heartbeat rhythm.
“This was your idea,” Mardon said. “Hiding here is really too obvious.” He dropped the stone and kicked it across the floor. “Try again. If you don’t sense anything, I’m not about to ferry an army of workers down here by helicopter to dislodge this mess.”
The egg strobed so brightly, Mardon blocked it with his hand. “Save your rants and think logically. Of course there’s a pile of stones here. The tunnel to the mines collapsed. As I said, if you sense her presence, I’ll do whatever is necessary to get inside. Otherwise, we would be better off using your powers to locate the other dragons.”
The egg’s light dimmed and changed to a softer hue.
“We will follow that lead immediately. If we capture Legossi, we are free to destroy her any way you wish.”
Now a blue light pulsed from within the egg.
Mardon turned and ambled back to the helicopter, his voice fading. “Don’t worry. I’ll have someone check this place daily for any sign of life.”
Soon, with Mardon again aboard, the helicopter rose into the air and flew out of sight. Yereq emerged from his hiding place, gripped the edges of a boulder, and pulled it away from the pile, revealing a hole, the waist-high doorway he had fashioned to allow the refugees an easier way to come and go if necessary.
As he bent low to enter, he pushed his sword inside. He had to alert Sapphira and the others. They would want to know his new information. Perhaps they could risk using a bit more light energy.
Now, of course, he would have to hunt at night to avoid detection, but that wasn’t a problem. He would do anything for Sapphira, including stumbling through a dark wilderness chasing yearlings up and down forested slopes.
Once inside, Yereq picked up his sword and hurried through the tunnel, bending over to keep from banging his head on the ceiling. Yes, nothing had really changed. Unless the news gave Enoch reason to alter his orders, they would stay put. And maybe the prophet could help them understand why Mardon was now a dragon slayer.