Chapter 22
Sapphira sat cross-legged and set a lantern on the floor in front of her. “Considering what Yereq told us, I think we can risk a little underground sunshine.” She blew a breathy whisper toward the wick. “Give me light.”
A small flame crawled along the wick, growing to a half inch in height and illuminating the cramped sleeping area. Shiloh sat across from her, while Bonnie and her mother looked on, lying on their sides in the two cubbyholes. With a small stack of journals in front of her, Bonnie opened the top one and poised a pen over the page. “Just enough light to enter what happened today.”
Sapphira knocked on the wall behind her with the heel of her hand. “Gabriel, can you hear me?”
A muffled voice replied, drifting into the room from the mouse hole at the base of the wall. “I’m here … wherever here is. I don’t have a lantern.”
“I’ll bring you one when it’s time to wake up.” Sapphira folded her hands in her lap. “We might be in this place for a very long time, so we should get to know each other better. I could tell you stories that would fill up years of waiting, but I’d like to hear more about you.” She scanned each set of eyes. “Who would like to go first?”
“I suppose I will,” Shiloh said. “I’ve never been known as the shy sort.” She set her folded hands on her backpack, now crumpled in her lap. “My father is Patrick, a former dragon named Valcor, who became fully human over fifty years ago. Gabriel was involved in Valcor’s transformation, so I’ll tell that story first. You see, Morgan was threatening to kill my mother, a beautiful woman named Ruth, who also had a very interesting life, but I’ll get to that later. Anyway—”
“Hello?”
Everyone turned toward the sound, a soft voice coming from the tunnel. Sapphira hissed at the lantern, “Lights out!” As darkness flooded the hovel, she jumped to her feet and felt her way toward the exit.
“I saw a light,” the voice said. “Is anyone down there?”
Now close enough to look through the exit passage, Sapphira craned her neck, trying to find the source. The voice seemed oddly familiar—feminine, cautious, maybe even nervous.
Suddenly, a light flashed into the hovel, so bright it blinded Sapphira. She staggered back, rubbing her eyes. Several hands caught her and held her up as she refocused on the exit hole.
“Are you okay?” Bonnie whispered.
“Fine. Shhh.”
Within the shaft of light, two boots slid down, followed by two bare legs with a cloak and white dress riding up toward the girl’s hips. She then dropped to their level, one hand holding a ball of white flame, illuminating her equally white hair.
Chill bumps ran along Sapphira’s skin as she took a step toward her. “A … Acacia?”
“Sapphira?” Acacia’s chin quivered. Her flame dwindled to a bare spark.
Sapphira spun toward her lantern, pointed at it, and shouted, “Ignite!” A bright yellow light flooded the room. She spread out her arms and squealed, “Acacia!”
They rushed into each other’s arms. Crying so hard she could barely speak, Sapphira massaged Acacia’s back. “Oh, my dear sister, I can’t believe you’re here! Flesh and bone, and not a phantom!” She wept, burying her eyes in Acacia’s cloak.
Acacia pulled back and set her hands on Sapphira’s cheeks. Tears flowed down her own cheeks as her bright blue eyes danced. “Dearest, darling sister, so much has happened, but there is no time to tell you the half of it.”
“How …” Sapphira swallowed through a lump, trying to steady her voice. “How did you get here? Did Yereq let you in?”
Acacia shook her head and let her arms fall to her sides. “I came from Second Eden through a volcano portal that dropped me off at the tree in the museum room. Elam sent me to—”
“Elam sent you?” Sapphira grabbed Acacia’s wrists. “Where is he? How can I get to him? Can I go through that portal?”
Acacia laughed. “Calm down. All in good time.” As she swept her gaze across the other girls, Acacia’s eyes brightened. “Ah! Bonnie and her mother are here. I have seen both of you through portal viewers.” She shifted to the final girl. “And you must be Shiloh, Bonnie’s duplicate.”
Shiloh grinned. “I believe she is my duplicate, if you don’t mind me saying so. I was born first.”
Irene stepped forward and set a hand on each of the Oracles. “You two are identical! Now we have two sets of duplicates.”
“Hey!” a muffled voice called. “Let a guy in on what’s going on over there.”
Shiloh picked up the lantern. “I’ll go fetch the male of the species.”
“Are you sure you can find his chamber?” Sapphira asked.
“Not a problem. I found his pad when I searched for the water closet. He pointed me in the right direction.” Shiloh climbed through the hole and disappeared.
As the light faded, Acacia ignited a new flame in her palm. She stared at the others through its shimmering glow, shadows now covering her eyes. “Second Eden is in great danger. The dragon Goliath has come back from the dead, and he has allied himself with a rebel in that world. They are gathering an army that will attack Abraham’s people.”
“Abraham?” Irene repeated. “Are we supposed to know who that is?”
Acacia shook her head. “He was once Arramos, the very first dragon and father of Makaidos. When the devil stole his body during the flood, God put the soul of Arramos into a human body and set him in Second Eden to begin a new world.” She took a deep breath. “Are you with me so far?”
“This is just too much to take in,” Irene said, “but keep going.”
“I really can’t tell the entire story. I have no way of knowing how much time elapses there while I’m here, so I have to hurry. What you need to know is that we are asking all former dragons to come to Second Eden to protect the people from an attack. There is a garden there that will regenerate you and make you into a dragon again. It’s already worked for Clefspeare and Roxil. It even gave Billy his fire breathing back.”
Irene looked at her ring and rubbed the white gem with her thumb. “I see.”
Sapphira glanced at Bonnie, but she gave no hint as to how she felt about that revelation. She just looked on with wide eyes.
“So,” Acacia continued, “we need to contact the others and call them to the portal in the museum room.”
“What if they don’t want to come?” Sapphira asked. “Maybe they don’t want to be dragons again. And can they revert to human form once the crisis is over?”
“We haven’t figured that part out yet, so the risk of staying in dragon form is very real. Of course, the choice to go to Second Eden will be up to them, but it is the real Arramos, the king and father of all good and noble dragons, who calls for their help. When they realize that, I don’t think they will refuse.”
“I will go,” Irene said. “I see no other option.”
Bonnie took her mother’s hand. “Count me in, too.”
“To get new wings and fly?” Acacia asked. “Or do you still have them?”
“I’ve been instructed to keep that a secret, but …” She dipped her head and smiled. “Billy’s there. I’m not going to let him fight Goliath without me.”
“Now it all makes sense,” Sapphira said as she picked up Shiloh’s backpack. “Enoch will want Shiloh to go with you.”
“As a decoy?” Irene asked.
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Sapphira propped the pack on her own back. “If someone thinks she’s Bonnie, she would make good slayer bait.”
“But it could be very dangerous,” Irene said.
“Somebody call me?” Shiloh slid into the hovel and pointed at herself with her thumb. “Dangerous is my middle name.”
Gabriel dropped down beside Shiloh, the lantern in his hand. “Dangerous is right. She tripped over me and burned my leg. That’s why I’m carrying the lantern.”
Acacia blew out the flame on her palm. “Did you hear what we were talking about?”
“I heard enough,” Shiloh replied. “I’ve already done the decoy bit once when I tricked Morgan into thinking I was Bonnie. I’m a pretty good actress if I do say so myself.”
“So how do we let the others know?” Sapphira asked. “I’m not sure if Enoch would want any of us to go to the surface.”
Gabriel raised his hand. “I wasn’t drafted. I’m just a subterranean volunteer, so I leave whenever I want. Just let me know how I can find everyone, and we’ll see how many dragons want to join the party.”
“Wait a minute,” Sapphira said. “This is all moving way too fast. Let me think.” As she looked at the pairs of eyes staring at her, she tried to remember the reasons each person was there. For one thing, the slayer was topside, hunting for Irene and Bonnie. She and Shiloh were there to comfort them in the lonely darkness, but wouldn’t that mean Enoch expected them to stay for a long time? Gabriel could have been chosen to go and get the other former dragons, so that made sense. Since Devin probably wasn’t having much luck finding Irene and Bonnie, he might be hunting for the others now, so the underground mines could be a good hideout for them, too. Maybe the time it would take to gather the dragons together, perhaps several weeks, equaled the time Enoch expected them to stay. Then they could all go to Second Eden together.
“Okay,” Sapphira said. “Let’s send Gabriel out to call the former dragons to Second Eden. He can visit Mrs. Bannister and give her an update, and maybe she and Larry can help him find everyone. Acacia, you can go back and tell Abraham that we’re gathering his troops. When we’re all ready, we’ll go through the portal together.”
“Bonnie and I could go now,” Irene said. “She … I mean, we would be out of danger from the slayer, and maybe we could help Second Eden right away.”
“And me, too,” Shiloh said. “We might as well plan our decoy maneuvers. Why wait?”
Sapphira looked at each face again. Enoch had said that she, herself, wasn’t allowed to use the portal at the tree, but he didn’t say others couldn’t. Then, if Irene, Bonnie, and Shiloh went with Acacia to Second Eden, and Gabriel flew away to search for the other dragons, that would leave only one person in the mines, the one person who could open the portal from this side to lead the dragon troops to the battlefront. That one person? Sapphira Adi. … Alone. … Again. But that didn’t matter, did it? Her own feelings weren’t important.
She let out a long sigh. “I think that might be the best plan.”
“There’s only one problem,” Acacia said. “We will appear in Second Eden in the magma pipe of a volcano. I’ll need a rope to throw to Billy when I get there. It’ll be tricky, but if I can do it, the others probably can, too.”
“The rope in the old elevator?” Sapphira asked.
“That’s what I was thinking, but we’ll have to cut it.”
Gabriel pulled a dagger from his belt and handed it to Sapphira. “You can use this.”
“Morgan’s dagger?” She reached it back to him. “I … I don’t know about that. It’s a murder weapon.”
He held up his hands, blocking the dagger. “Use it. It’s just a knife. Jared Bannister killed Naamah with it, and I stabbed one of the Nephilim, so obviously it can be used for good.”
As she held the gnarled hilt and passed her finger over the primitive stone blade, her skin tingled, almost as if the dagger vibrated, but it had to be her imagination. “I guess it’ll be okay, as long as we’re doing what we’ve been told to do.”
“Exactly. It should be perfectly safe.” Gabriel bowed. “Since you ladies have everything under control, I’ll head for the exit tunnel and see if Yereq will move the stone for me.”
Acacia handed him the lantern. “You’ll need this more than we will.”
“And Walter’s cell phone.” Sapphira dug it out of her pocket and gave it to him. “It’s useless down here. Even if I could get a signal, the battery won’t last more than another day or two, and I can’t plug it in to recharge it. ”
“Got it!” Keeping his wings tucked, he crawled out, taking the light with him.
Acacia snapped her fingers and created a new ball of flame in her palm, this one pale blue. “Ready to go, Sister?”
Sapphira stared at the dagger—a staurolite blade, Merlin had called it. Tiny crystals glittered in the stone, looking like little crosses burning with blue fire. “I guess so, but there’s no use wasting your energy.” She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and withdrew the ovulum. Its red glow mixed with Acacia’s blue and bathed the room in violet.
Acacia extinguished her light. “Then we’ll let Enoch lead the way.”
All five climbed out of the hovel and hiked to the old elevator shaft, Sapphira in front with the ovulum in one hand and the dagger in the other. When they arrived, the platform they had stood upon when calling for Chazaq to lift or lower them to their destination was no longer there, just a rope dangling from the darkness above.
“I’ll try it,” Shiloh said. She stepped past Sapphira, grabbed the rope, and, after testing her weight against it, swung out to the middle of the shaft. Then, yanking the rope, she jerked her body up and down. “Seems strong to me,” she said as she swung back.
Acacia knelt by the shaft and peered down. “I see plenty of rope. Pull up about twenty feet. That should be enough.”
“Let’s get more, just in case.” Shiloh reeled the entire length of the rope and coiled it on the stone floor. “That should do it. Let’s cut a fifty-foot section and leave the rest.”
Sapphira lowered herself to her knees, set the ovulum next to the coil, and pushed the edge of the blade against the rope. She forced her arm to stay steady. Were they really doing what they were told? Enoch obviously wanted something to happen with the tree of life before they could go anywhere, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked her to dissolve the bone and cover everything with the Bridgelands soil. Yet, maybe what he wanted to happen already took place and she didn’t realize it. Still, in the past, anything associated with the tree of life always took longer than she had hoped. When dealing with Enoch, waiting seemed to be a way of life. Why would this be any different?
“Is something wrong, Sister?” Acacia asked.
Sapphira jerked the dagger back. “I … I’m just not sure about this whole plan. I don’t know what Enoch wants us to do.”
“The ovulum is here.” Acacia pointed toward it with her foot. “You could ask him now.”
Sapphira picked up the ovulum and again held it in one hand and the dagger in the other. As she stared at the billowing mist inside the egg, a river of thoughts rushed through her mind. Why should she ask Enoch? Hadn’t he already given his instructions? Wouldn’t he be disappointed that she couldn’t follow the simplest commands without bothering him with trivial details?
After all, going to Second Eden was for a noble cause, to save lives, so Enoch would be delighted that they would risk their own lives for others. And besides, she certainly wasn’t helping Irene and Bonnie and Shiloh leave for her own sake. She would be all alone again, forced to stay there to wait for the other dragons to arrive. This was a sacrifice, not self-serving at all. Wouldn’t insisting that they stay with her be the most selfish act possible? Why should she bother Enoch with such an easy question?
She set the ovulum down, pushed the dagger’s edge against the rope, and cut through it. “There.” She threaded about fifty feet of rope through her hand and sliced again. “Now go,” she said, handing one end to Acacia. “And please hurry.”
Acacia took the rope. “Are you sure? You’ll be all alone.”
“I know.” Still on her knees, Sapphira drooped her head, trying to hide her emerging tears. “Please. … Just go. I’ll be okay. I’m sure Gabriel will be back soon enough.”
“I’ll have to make at least a little light.” A candle-sized flame rose from Acacia’s fingertip. She stooped and kissed Sapphira on the cheek. “I’m sure we’ll be together again soon.”
As Acacia rose, she waved to the others. “Come on, girls. I think she needs to be alone.” She brushed her lips across Sapphira’s cheek and whispered, “I love you, Sister.”
Sapphira blinked but didn’t look up. Other hands patted her back or squeezed her shoulder, and soon, the scratching and pattering of shoes on stone quickly faded. Then, as Acacia had said, Sapphira Adi was alone.
Sitting now with her head between her knees and her arms locked around her legs, she let the dagger dangle from her fingers. Then, it slipped away and clattered to the stone.
The ovulum’s glow strengthened, sending ribbons of red across the floor. She lifted her head and stared at the pulsing egg. What did Enoch want to say? Scold her for using the dagger, something she knew had been a murder weapon? Give her a tongue-lashing for sending Bonnie and Irene away, the very people she was supposed to watch over in the mines? Rebuke her for giving in to pressure? Everyone seemed to think they should jump at the chance to do something that was obviously good and noble, yet wasn’t exactly in line with what they had assumed to be true. Should she have listened?
Now with the light washing over her, everything seemed so clear. Her decision was stupid. She was the one who heard Enoch’s commands. She was the one who should have stood her ground and said no. And now she was getting exactly what was coming to her.
An ignorant slave girl deserved to be whipped, but a child of God who should have known better deserved to suffer even more. And she would suffer, separated from friends and from God in isolation, loneliness, and silence. That was the worst part of all, the silence.
Sapphira began to weep. Did anyone really understand? Had anyone ever suffered so much? No one in history had to live alone, day after day after day, with no one to talk to except herself and an invisible God she so desperately tried to believe in as another thousand sunsets passed by in the unreachable land above.
As she etched marks in the stone for every lonely day, wondering if her perception of day and night even mattered, she had watched her skin grow pale, and had wandered through the dark tunnels in hope that someday, if she ever did again see the sun, her muscles wouldn’t be so atrophied that she would have to crawl.
Yes, it was true. No one could ever understand her suffering. Nothing was worse than centuries alone—not disease, not torture … not even death.
A strange scratching noise perked her ears. She tipped to the side and, bracing her body with one hand, looked at the ovulum and dagger sitting on the floor, almost touching.
The scratching seemed to come from the dagger, increasing in volume and taking on a static-filled voice, like an announcer on a too-distant radio station.
“Mara, daughter of the Earth.”
She shifted to all fours and peered at the stone blade, awash in the ovulum’s glow. In the red light, the crystals now appeared as crisscross-shaped droplets of blood.
“Enoch?” she said. “Is that you?”
“No, Mara.” The voice grew louder and clearer. “Pick me up. Hold me close. If you want to escape loneliness, I will tell you what you must do.”
She slid her hand under the hilt, now as warm as one of the rocks in the hot springs, and held it close to her chest. “Like this?”
“Closer.”
She pressed the flat side of the blade against her body. Its warmth penetrated her shirt and radiated across her skin. Yet, instead of bringing the soothing relief of the spring’s steamy bath, it raised a cascade of shivers from her shoulders to her waist. “Is that better?”
“Turn my point toward your heart and press it against bare skin. Only then will I be able to communicate my message.”
She pulled the collar of her shirt down and set the tip of the blade against her bosom. As the stone radiated cold into her skin, her fingers trembled around the grip. “Like this?”
“Very good.” The voice became crisp and clear. “Now you can listen to the words of truth, words you cannot deny. You were born a slave in this God-forsaken mine, and you are destined to die here. God used you for his purposes over and over, only to send you back here to suffer alone. You helped save the race of dragons, ended the schemes of slayers, and rescued Bonnie Silver from exposure, and each time you returned to this dungeon.” The dagger’s voice softened. “You know that, don’t you?”
As she closed her eyes, Sapphira’s face twitched. “Yes.” Her voice spiked high. “Yes, I know. But I deserve it. I’m just a—”
“A slave girl. A foolish slave girl who thought she could rise up on the wings of faith, yet she was dashed to the lower realms time after time.” A “tsk, tsk” sound emanated from the blade. “Long ago King Nimrod wanted to give you to the men of the temple. Do you remember that?”
She nodded, tears now dripping. “I remember.”
“And you know what they would have done, don’t you?”
Again, she nodded. With the dagger shaking in her hand, the blade pricked her skin, but not deep enough to draw blood.
“You ran away, of course, and to where? The same place you toil now, your only refuge from those who sit high and mighty on royal thrones, who wish only to use you for their pleasures and cast you to the ground when you have outlived your usefulness. Now that you have violated Enoch’s trust, you can never be trusted again. And since you took from the tree of life, you cannot die of natural causes. You will stay here forever.
“Forever alone. Forever without Elam. And Elam will forever be without you, which is all for the better. You don’t deserve such a brave, obedient warrior, and he would be better off without you. He will take Acacia into his heart, the sister you betrayed so long ago, the only Oracle who has truly been faithful and—”
“Stop it!” Sapphira wailed. “Stop it! I know it’s all true. Why do you torment me like this?”
The dagger’s voice lowered to a snakelike hiss. “Because I want to help you end your suffering. Because of the curse on those who would spill your blood, only you would be willing to take your life, but I will be your instrument of destruction. Plunge me into your heart. You will escape this dungeon, and you will never, ever have to come back. Elam will marry Acacia, and he will be happy forever, safely in the arms of an Oracle who never betrayed anyone, neither you, nor Enoch, nor God. If you will complete this final act of unselfishness, everyone you love will be happy and fulfilled, and you will never be alone again.”
Still sobbing, Sapphira heaved shallow breaths. Every spasm drove the blade’s stinging point deeper. As she watched the staurolite dagger against her pale skin, its embedded crystals sparkled like scarlet mirrors, spattering reflections of themselves across her chest. A hundred tiny crosses, each one bloody red, wavered over a sea of white.
“Do it now, Mara. Plunge deep and quick. Your pain will soon be over, and the world will be rid of this daughter of the Earth, this faithless betrayer who is unworthy to draw another breath.”
The ovulum’s glow blossomed, sending brighter and brighter light across her body, magnifying the crystalline images on her skin. As the largest cross remained steady at the center of her chest, a memory flashed in her mind. Standing at the edge of a precipice, she stared at death, the magma river below, ready to cast herself into its fiery clutches. She had held aloft a flaming cross, the same cross she had carried for years, lighting her way through so many dark times.
Just before jumping, she had pressed the cross against her bosom, bringing its flames into her heart and killing forever the daughter of Earth that she once was and resurrecting her as a daughter of the King. The searing heat purged her eternal loneliness, the same empty feeling that had now crept back in like a crafty serpent. Words eased into her mind, Gabriel’s beautiful phrases spoken in a dim echoing tunnel. “You are an amazing girl, Sapphira Adi, and I want you to know that someone appreciates all you’ve done.”
She jerked the dagger away and slammed it to the floor. Shaking violently, she rose to her feet. She pressed her hand against her chest and shouted, “I am Sapphira Adi! A child of Jehovah!” She kicked the dagger across the floor. “I already died once, and I don’t ever have to die again!”
She scooped up the ovulum and stroked its glass. Inside, the red cloud swirled faster than ever, as if dancing with delight. Parting her lips, she breathed over the surface, frosting the crystal with a coat of white mist. The cloud slowed for a moment, then spun again, as if responding to her delicate touch. She rose to the balls of her feet, spread her arms, and swirled in a circle of her own, dancing with the holy presence within her grasp.
She didn’t have to speak. She didn’t have to try to explain her mistake. Jehovah knew her heart. Frightened and confused, she had done the best she could. Her loving God had searched her soul and found no shadow of selfishness. Her choice to let them go through the portal, a decision manipulated by the presence of a vile deceiver, had done nothing to drive a wedge between her and her eternal dance partner.
Slowing her spin, she drew the ovulum close and pressed it against her chest. Warmth flooded her body, and, this time, her soul. Every chill flew away. Every doubt vanished. She would never again allow an accuser to hold such sway over her mind.
As her tremors eased, Sapphira gazed down the dark tunnel. It was probably too late to run to the museum and stop them from using the portal. Her best choice now would be to dispose of the dagger and return to her hovel. Yes, return to her hovel and wait. For how long? It didn’t matter. Even if she had to wait for years, she would never be alone. Not this time. Sure, Gabriel would eventually return, bearing news of his efforts and perhaps leading former dragons into the mines, and he would be a welcome addition, but now she would never again forget that she always had someone at her side, Jehovah-Shammah—the Lord is there.
She stuffed the ovulum under her shirt and snatched up the dagger. Now it was time to put the deceiver in his place. After tying the loose rope to the dangling piece in the shaft, she clamped the dagger between her teeth, wrapped her arms and legs around the line, and slid down. Since she had to descend only one level, the remaining rope would be long enough … she hoped.
The dagger buzzed in her teeth, the voice again whispering its static-filled words, but she just hummed a tune, nothing in particular, just something loud enough to drown out the viperous tongue.
When she arrived, she swung into the new tunnel, pulled out the ovulum, and gripped the dagger’s hilt in her fist. Once again she traveled the path to the precipice, but this time marching like a soldier, with new purpose, no hesitation, no dread. She was the bearer of the dagger, and she would take this deceiver to its appointed doom.
She strode out to the ledge. As the heat from the magma river rushed upward, she pulled her arm back, threw the dagger as far as she could, and, not bothering to watch it fall, marched back through the tunnel, Enoch’s ovulum leading the way.
Still walking with purpose, she let out a long, satisfied sigh. The demon was gone, vanquished. Now she would go back to the hovel and wait patiently for the next step, no matter how long it might take.
Sitting on the floor near the back of Merlin, Ashley reeled in a long run of twine and wrapped it around her hand, her makeshift measuring line. “We can fit three cots, but no more. Since they’ll be on wheels, we can probably adjust them once we get them in.”
“That is,” Walter added, “if Cliffside gets the wheels done in time.” Sitting cross-legged with his back against the closed cargo door, he pointed at the seats. “If we had his tools, maybe we could remove those to make more room.”
“No time, but at least we can fit the sickest ones. Since it’s going to be so dangerous, it’s better to limit our patients to the three who would die anyway.”
“So those three are going,” Walter said, “and you, Billy, Steadfast, and his wife make seven.”
“Right.” She scrunched her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying at the magnet station?”
“I’m okay. I’d rather be bouncing around the sky with you and Billy, but I don’t mind being your translator.”
Ashley pushed her hand against his and intertwined their fingers. “We said we’d be together for the rest of these adventures, but …” She sighed. What else could she say? She had already explained why he had to stay at the magnet station. Cliffside couldn’t learn their lingo fast enough to make the proper adjustments to turn or to change the speed of the sky hospital, and if Walter flew with Billy, he wouldn’t be able to adjust the Cessna’s radio if something went wrong.
Finally, she pulled away and set her hands in her lap. “We can do this. We have to do this. Even if we’re not together.”
“If you’re trying to read my mind again,” Walter said, “I think you’re tuned into the wrong frequency. I’m really cool with the idea. Don’t worry about it.” He withdrew his MP3 player from his pocket. “Speaking of frequency, we still haven’t tested it long range.”
Ashley pointed at the player. “You said your radio might come in handy. You can say ‘I told you so’ if you want to.”
“Yeah, you read me right that time, but I wasn’t going to say it.” He scooted around her and jumped out the passenger door. “I should be at the station in about three minutes. Give me a holler.”
Ashley rose to her knees and looked out the door. Walter sprinted across the dragon-launching field, his arms pumping in the cold wind. He was such a great guy—polite, courageous, virtuous, and, of course, funny.
As she walked to the cockpit, she caught another view of him out the front windshield, shrinking in the distance as he crested a hill. Yes, he was all she could ever ask for in a young man, but he was so young … too young. And it would take years, maybe five years or more, before the gap in their ages would seem narrow enough to allow anything more than a close friendship to develop.
She sat in the copilot’s chair and slid the headset on. Since she had taken the airplane’s radio out of the dashboard and left it hanging, she could tweak the frequency if necessary, but she would have to secure everything before takeoff.
She glanced at the sky. No sign of Clefspeare. He had no idea how long it would take to find Billy at Mount Elijah and then fly back. With Mother the only one watching the birthing garden, the entire village lay at greater risk. And who could tell about Flint and his army? When would they feel strong enough to attack?
After guessing that three minutes were up, Ashley called on the radio. “Walter, I’m broadcasting on one-oh-seven-point-nine. I know you can’t answer, but I’ll keep talking for a while to make sure you’ve had time to get to the station. Since you’re not even a mile away, this might be an inadequate test. We’ll have to fly at ten-thousand feet. Now, I don’t mean to insult you, because I know you can do the math, but that’s just under two miles … well, one point eight nine and change, in case you want to know, and because of the angle between the central magnet and where we happen to be flying at any given time, the distance would be even greater.
“Of course, since they use a magnet that’s not ferromagnetic, I’m not completely sure that my calculations are correct, but that’s all for the better. If they used magnets that attracted iron and steel, our airplane would be affected in unpredictable ways. The whole concept is super cool, but it has its drawbacks, including taking a full day to land the thing if they wanted to pick up people with life-threatening injuries. Maybe I can figure out a way to improve that process. Anyway …”
Ashley kept chattering, still glancing from time to time at the sky, hoping to see a returning dragon. As soon as Billy arrived, they would have to get the patients to the airplane in a hurry. No sense loading them ahead of time, not in such cold weather. She would just have to wait and trust that God would keep those poor villagers alive long enough to get them safely to the hospital.
Finally, she stopped talking and pulled off the headset. As she laid it in her lap, she looked at her palms. There was no trace of the deep wounds that had once gouged her skin, the holes the pennies bored there when she surrendered her gifts to God. And now with her healing gift restored, she felt useless. Yes, she could still do a healing, but the last episode took so much out of her, it nearly killed her, and she was exhausted for hours. Somehow her powers were crippled in this place, sort of like how Excalibur had lost its ability to send out its destructive beam. Obviously she and Walter would have to count on others to do what they couldn’t do themselves.
Looking into the air again, she whispered, “And that means you, God.” She lifted her hand, exposing her palm to the sky. “It’s all yours. Use this hand however you will. I, Ashley Stalworth, give it to you again today … and forever.”