Wart was growing uneasy the farther Seagood and his companions rode into Endor. “Rudy,” he whispered, “how are we going to find Master Thomas?” At the sound of his whisper, everything in the forest grew deadly still.
Rudy held up a silencing finger, and the group waited several long minutes before proceeding again.
Wart gasped at a weed that looked like a man crouching in the shadows.
The group paused again, and this time Seagood got off to look around. The early part of their journey on this side of the river had been easy. Without a word, the Watchers had led them around countless bends in the brush and trees until they’d come to a road. Now Seagood and his party were alone.
The Watchers had still been with them when they’d spied the distant lights of Endor, but now the dreaded castle was very near. The chance of being discovered and captured grew with every movement.
They remained under the canopy of the forest about five furlongs from the walls of the cliff upon which Endor stood. The meadow between the castle and forest appeared tilled and tended as if it were a massive garden.
Seagood motioned, and the party followed him toward the river where brush and weeds would hide their passage. The longer they avoided discovery, the better.
The roar of the river drowned any noise they might make as they scurried over rocks and slipped on moss-covered stones. Progress was slow, but after a long while, they stopped at a point almost directly below a lookout tower. They were sheltered from view by four large trees that had been spared from the ax.
Wart could stand the suspense no longer. “What are we going to do now?” he whispered.
The goal had been to rescue Thomas, but now that they were here, they seemed no closer to fulfilling their mission than they had been at Green Meadow. If the others had a plan, they hadn’t shared it with him, and he was suspicious that they didn’t know either. He was about to ask again when Rudy held up a warning finger.
Over the sound of the rushing water, they could distinctly hear the clop-clop of horses’ hooves on stone pavement nearby.
They waited breathlessly, each man trying to quiet his horse from a sudden nicker that might betray them. They watched in silence as a patrol of twenty riders passed no more than thirty feet from their hiding place. The last rider in the party slowed his pace and dropped behind the others. He crossed the narrow strip of grass between the path and the cluster of trees. He was about to dismount when a sharp call from the squad leader caused him to wheel about and gallop back to the others.
The four men looked at each other and silently acknowledged how close they had come to discovery. Breathing deeply for a few moments, Seagood and Mathias handed their horses’ reins to Wart and disappeared over the stones toward the river.
Rudy, in turn, handed his reins to Wart and turned to follow the others.
“Where are you going, and what am I supposed to do?” Wart whispered anxiously.
“We spotted a current in the river,” Rudy said with significance.
“So?” Wart’s voice demanded an explanation.
Turning back, Rudy decided it was time to do a little explaining. “Some of these old castles have a waterway beneath them,” he stated. “The folks would build their castle near a river and dig an underground passage for water to flow under the castle.” He paused to see if Wart understood. Wart didn’t, so Rudy continued. “When we saw a current in the river, we wondered if it was the waterway under the castle. The inlet being upstream, we thought this might be the outlet.”
“What if it is?” Wart asked dubiously.
“Don’t be so dull, Wart! If we find the outlet to their water supply, we are halfway inside.”
Wart stood still, trying to comprehend the meaning of all this. “You mean—” he started to ask.
“Precisely!” Rudy interrupted. “We go up the downspout, and we are inside. We find Thomas, come down with the water, mount up, and ride away.”
Wart didn’t feel very enthused.
Rudy saw the lad’s disenchantment. “Well, what do you propose? Shall we just sit here on the doorstep and wait for Thomas to come to us?”
Wart felt sick. It was true: they didn’t have a plan. His shoulders drooped.
Rudy sensed the boy’s discouragement. “Buck up, lad! The Lord has brought us safe this far. He is able to finish our mission!”
Wart was silent. He thought of all they had encountered, including the recent near miss with the patrol.
“Don’t lose faith, Wart!” Rudy said. “I know it doesn’t sound like a very good plan, but if we do the best we can and trust in divine providence, He will either make our plan work, or He will open other doors. You’ve got to believe that. The Lord is faithful. He will never leave us or forsake us.”
“What about Clyde and Darren?” Wart asked.
“The Lord removed them from this mission, Wart, but He never left them. They are with Him this very minute.” He paused. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were here with us right now.”
Wart peered anxiously about, half expecting to see a ghost.
Rudy chuckled. “No, not where you can see them, Wart. And maybe I am superstitious. But see it as you will, the Lord sent an angel just now to protect us, and Clyde or Darren would make first-class angels for a mission like this.”
A shiver ran down Wart’s spine. He’d never thought about things like this before. But he’d never been around people who walked in faith so openly.
“Rudy,” he began.
The big man had turned away and started for the river, but he stopped, turned to Wart, and asked, “What?”
“What if you can’t swim all the way in without drowning?”
“We’ll cross that problem when we get to it,” Rudy said.
“But it’s going to be light soon. How can you search the river in daylight?” Wart asked.
“We can’t, but I’ll never get there to help if you keep asking questions!”
“Rudy?”
“What!”
“Where should I take the horses?”
Rudy was growing impatient. “You have eyes. Look around!” And with that he was gone.
Wart felt very alone. Five horses gave him company but not much comfort. Gently rubbing several soft muzzles, he wondered where he could keep five horses out of sight—and what would he feed them. They might be here a very long time.
Wart studied their location. With daylight, they would be exposed. Wart tied the horses and scrambled over the rocks. Slipping from bush to bush, he neared the cliff. There had to be a better place to hide.
Upon his return, daylight was stronger, but so was his sense of confidence. Grasping two horses’ halters, he began moving them to a location at the very foot of the cliff.
A narrow strip of jumbled rock separated the cliff from the river. Wart led the horses to a narrow overhang in the face of the cliff. It was nearly forty feet long, though only a few feet deep. A few wisps of tough grass survived among the rocks. Wart hobbled the horses and returned for the others. It wasn’t a good hiding place, he knew, but it was hidden from the tower and the road. If Seagood wanted better, he’d have to look for it himself.
He had no sooner hobbled the last of the horses when Rudy came scrambling over the rocks, soaked and out of breath. “What on earth are you doing here?” he panted.
“Trying to get out of sight,” Wart said defensively.
“From whom? Anyone on the river can see us, plain as day!”
“Do you have a better idea? You try to hide five horses. We can’t be seen from the tower or the road!”
Rudy studied the surroundings. Shaking his head, he admitted, “I guess this is as good as it gets. We’ll just hope that no one favorable to Jabin comes down the river.”
Seagood and Mathias crawled up from the river under the cover of the prickly river brush. Seagood nodded his approval and stripped off his wet clothing. The others followed suit, stretching their garments over stones to dry, while Wart prepared a makeshift meal.
They conversed quietly, though no one could have heard them over the roar of the river. It seemed they had indeed found an outlet or underground stream feeding the river, but none had been able to penetrate the swift current rushing from the underground cave.
Exhausted from their night ride and their early morning labors, the others wrapped themselves in their cloaks and fell quickly into a deep sleep. Wart cleaned up and then got busy moving stones to make a more comfortable bed. Finally satisfied, he crept over to a narrow crevice in the wall and placed his back against a rather large stone, resolved to watch while the others slept. He had shifted his weight several times to get more comfortable when he felt something move.
Supposing his britches had slid upon the ground, Wart repositioned himself and leaned back. With a yell, both he and the stone at his back tumbled into the bowels of the earth.
Seagood was on his feet instantly. He saw Wart’s feet disappear through a gaping hole in the side of the cliff.
The others woke and stared in disbelief at Seagood leaning far into the cavernous hole. Rudy grabbed a torch, and Mathias brought a coil of rope. Rudy lit the torch, and Seagood grabbed it, thrusting it deep inside the dark cavity. Wart lay some fifteen feet down on a narrow ledge of stone. Beyond him, the earth seemed to open into impenetrable darkness.
Rudy peeked into the cavern and yelled, “Wart, can you hear me?”
The lad stirred, and everyone rejoiced, but still they called encouragement. “Come on, Wart. You can do it! We’ll get you out of there.”
When Wart finally came to his senses, he jumped to his feet and shouted, “Hey, get me out of here!”
Mathias dropped his rope, and before they could secure it properly, Wart had shinnied up and out of the dark cavern. He was bumped, bruised, and scared, but otherwise not hurt too badly.
Wart gasped. “Something is dead down there. It smells awful.”
Rudy laughed. “Boy, you just got the scare of a lifetime, and the first thing you do is complain about the smell.” Then Rudy sniffed, and his expression changed. “Pugh! You smell terrible.”
Rudy lost no time in rushing the boy to the river where he made him peel off his clothes and take a bath.
Meanwhile, Seagood and Mathias studied the dark cavern from their position topside.
Wart was dressed in clean attire, bathed and feeling much better, when Seagood motioned for a conference. Rudy studied the master’s face and began to ask questions. Wart and Mathias observed the conversation with interest.
“What do you think this is?” Rudy asked.
Seagood shrugged.
“Does it run under the city?”
A nod!
“Is this our best route into the city?”
It was clear that Seagood didn’t know.
“Do you think this is our best route to Thomas?”
Seagood shrugged, but there was a strange light in his eyes.
“Do we search the hole?” Rudy asked.
Seagood gave a slight nod.
“How many of us?” Rudy asked.
Seagood studied the group. Wart refused to look Seagood in the eye. He’d been down there already, and he didn’t want to go back. He was ashamed of his fear, but he could not overcome it.
Mathias would not beg, but he would not be left behind. He had come to rescue Thomas. If this was the best route, nothing was going to stop him.
Rudy did not speak. He was loyal to Seagood, and though he might quiver with fear, he would stay with his master.
Seagood held up three fingers. Wart felt relief, but also a pang of fear. That meant he would be left alone to guard five horses and keep them ready for the hoped return of his companions.
Preparations were few. Armed only with swords, torches, and several long coils of rope, Seagood was the first to descend into the cavern’s darkness, followed closely by Mathias.
Rudy double-checked the anchor knot before he descended. His eyes met Wart’s. “It’s going to be all right, boy.” He smiled. “Have some faith!”
Wart nodded. He had lots of questions he wanted to ask, but he refrained. He knew Rudy’s answer would be much like his father’s: “You have eyes and a brain. Do what you can.”
Rudy backed through the hole, cast Wart a grin, and disappeared from view. Whew, this place does stink! Rudy thought as he slid down the rope. Something is dead down here!
Seagood led the way with the torch. The narrow ledge that had caught Wart dissolved into a deep crevasse that split the earth. Seagood’s torch could reveal no bottom. They anchored a rope and began another decent.
The walls of the fissure touched Rudy’s broad shoulders. He had never felt so claustrophobic. He glanced up at the glimmer of daylight that shone far above. For a brief moment he wished he had stayed with Wart.
Grasping the rope, he let himself down, not wanting to be too far behind the others. He came to the end of the rope, and still his feet dangled in the air. Wedging his body between the rock walls, he peered about for his friends. Panic began to gnaw at him. Where are they? he wondered.
Suddenly a dim light from Seagood’s torch flickered a few yards away. The others had worked their way down the walls and were standing on a stone floor.
Feeling the rocks bite into his shoulders, Rudy moved toward the light. As he brushed though a thousand cobwebs, Rudy tried to calm his fears. Only a few spiders were known to be poisonous, but who knew what lived down here.
The silence around Rudy was complete. Even the footfalls of his companions made no audible sound. He tried to think pleasant thoughts, but they too became dark whispers in his mind.
Reaching a solid shelf of stone, Rudy grabbed for an outcropping of rock to steady himself. Something smooth and cool slithered under his hand, and he recoiled. He could not see what it was, but his dark imagination could guess.
Stumbling forward, he tried to catch the others. Blackness covered the floor between them, and before he could think what it was, he stepped into nothing. A cry of terror rose to his lips, but hurling his strong arms against the jagged walls, he stopped his descent. Slowly he inched his way across the opening by wedging his frame and feet between the walls. A stone suddenly tore loose and fell. He listened a long time but never heard it strike the bottom.
Trembling, he reached the other side. Sinking to his knees, he crawled forward. The light was not far away, but it revealed very little around him.
Seagood and Mathias rounded a corner, and all went black. “Hey!” Rudy shouted. “Come back!” He crawled faster. His hand fell upon something that gave way beneath his tremendous weight. A low sigh escaped into the gloom. Unable to imagine what it was, he jumped up and ran blindly through the darkness. A shadow caught his foot and cast him headlong. Striking his head, Rudy knew no more.
Seagood examined Rudy while Mathias held the torch. Rudy’s face, hands, and clothing had been torn, but his wounds did not look too severe. Pulling a small flask from his knapsack, Seagood dabbed some of the oil on Rudy’s cuts, and soon the big man opened his eyes. Seeing Seagood, Rudy rolled away, turning his face to the wall.
Mathias punched Rudy’s arm and rolled him back to face them. Seagood was grinning as he held out his hand to help him up.
Rudy groaned as he got to his feet. He stood for a bit, regaining his balance. Seagood again took the lead with Rudy in tow, while Mathias brought up the rear.
They watched for a passage that might lead up into the castle, but found only paths descending deeper into the earth. Seagood marked the walls with a piece of rock, hoping to retrace their steps later. Even so, everyone was becoming confused and disoriented.
They descended three landings from where Rudy had taken his fall and then paused for a conference. Seagood’s eyes asked the question: Do we go on?
Mathias and Rudy looked at each other, and Mathias spoke. “We have to be under the castle at this moment. Who knows? These cracks might lead directly to the dungeon.”
Rudy dreaded to think what they might find on the next level down, but they had come this far, so they might as well go on. Seagood nodded. Turning, he began to worm his way down another ragged crevice in the floor. The odor of rotting flesh intensified with each descent.
Suddenly all three could hear the rustle and squeak of vermin. Seagood signaled for another torch to be lit, and in the dim light of two flames, they saw countless rats below them.
They had come to a different type of room. The bottom of the crevasse didn’t narrow to a level floor; rather, it opened into the roof of a larger room. It was forty feet to the bottom, and the floor was covered with thousands of rats of all sizes and colors.
Seagood began to look for a place to anchor his rope for his descent into the room below, but Rudy grabbed his arm and shook his head. “There are too many rats!” he shouted.
Seagood just smiled and began to loop the rope around Rudy’s massive waist.
“Hey, just a minute,” Rudy said. “I don’t want to go down there.”
Mathias grinned. “I think he just wants you to anchor the rope while he and I go down to look around.”
“Oh,” Rudy said sheepishly. He braced himself to hold Seagood’s weight, and Seagood began to descend. As Seagood neared the floor below, Mathias prepared to follow him down.
“You won’t be down there long, will you?” Rudy asked.
“I don’t know. Why?” Mathias answered.
“I don’t think I can handle the dark alone,” Rudy answered truthfully. “May I keep one torch? It might help you mark your way back to the passage.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Mathias said. “Take mine.”
The torch light fluttered about the crevasse as Mathias wiggled his way through the hole and into the room below.
Rudy watched in amazement as the vermin scattered from Seagood’s torch. A few rats held their ground as the men began their search of the room but fled in terror when Seagood placed the torch near their fur.
They had nearly given up hope of finding anything in the cavernous room when Mathias noticed a small hole in the far end of the vault. Together the men studied the opening, and Seagood was first to squeeze his frame through the tiny portal. Rudy’s heart sank as his friends disappeared from view.
Descending another narrow crevasse, the two men entered yet another vaulted chamber. Rats fled from their light. They had taken only a few steps when their light revealed a sight that chilled their souls. A man’s skeleton lay across their path.
When Thomas fell from the ledge inside the oubliette’s door, he landed in a pile of rotting human bodies, the very bodies he had discarded only days before. They softened his fall, but their decay and odor made him nauseous, and he was too weak to free himself from the muck and bones. In despair, he gave himself up for dead and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
In his dream, Thomas opened his eyes to a dim red light that filled his senses. It was warm, uncomfortably so, and the air was filled with acrid smoke. When Thomas moved his arms and legs, everything seemed to work.
He was thirsty and wanted to find water, but when he tried to stand, he found he could not. He did not know if he had sustained an injury or if he was merely weary or bound by some unseen tether. So he lay and studied his surroundings. The room was dark, save for the red light that escaped the glowing fissures scattered along the walls. He wondered if he had discovered some great furnace in the depths of the earth. Time passed, and the heat became unbearable.
“Is there no relief?” he asked aloud, and the sound of his voice frightened him. It was weak, and his throat was parched. “Can someone help me?” he demanded, but his words fell unheeded to the floor.
Frustrated, Thomas closed his eyes, and his mind began to drift. Where was he? How long had he been here? Where was his sense of time? Suddenly a dreadful thought entered his mind. Have I died? Am I in hell?
Minutes turned to hours, and hours stretched into ever-increasing misery. His throat burned as the heat around him intensified. His mind drifted to an old story he had heard of three men who had refused to obey a tyrant king. They had been thrown into a furnace, but they had fallen unharmed into the flames. When the king looked into that furnace, he saw four men walking about in the flames, and the fourth man looked divine.
As Thomas considered that ancient story, either his mind began to clear, or a light dawned upon his misery. Whichever it was, a pure, clear light began to fill the vault in which he lay.
He could see no figure, for the light was as bright as the sun: powerful, but not dreadful. He felt drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. Reaching out, Thomas sought to touch the light, and someone gripped his outstretched hand. He felt a warm strength flow through his body. The light pushed all darkness aside, in the vault and within Thomas as well.
For the first time, Thomas saw countless men and women chained to the walls of what could only be described as a huge dungeon. The prisoners writhed in their bonds, taking no notice of Thomas or the light.
He saw too what appeared to be a jailer garbed in hideous attire. This “monster” looked like a serpent, yet he walked like a man. Thomas watched as the jailer released a man from his fetters. Sensing his freedom, the man bolted with such agility that he had covered nearly thirty paces before the jailer’s tail whipped out like a coiled rope and grabbed the man’s feet, making him fall.
Thomas was surprised when he heard the jailer speak. Not only had the light given him eyes to see but ears to hear as well.
“Ha!” laughed the jailer. “You thought you could escape? Where would you go?”
Thomas grew impatient, but he had no strength to move. He turned again to the light, but it was gone! He felt a reassuring warmth flow through his fingers, and he could still see through the darkness. Examining his fist, he felt a strange excitement, for it glowed—not from without, like a candle, but from within. Opening his fingers, he found a tiny silver key with raised letters on its handle spelling the word FAITH. Turning the key over, he found that the letters had imprinted themselves in his palm. The imprint did not hurt, but it would not rub off.
Thomas watched the hideous jailer drag one prisoner after another from their bonds to a distant door. Behind that portal raged a fiery furnace from which heat poured into the dungeon.
“Wait,” Thomas called, but his voice was feeble, and the jailer took no notice.
Looking once again at the tiny key in his hand, Thomas asked aloud, “I wonder what this key is for?”
“I’ll take it for you,” a voice said, startling Thomas. Looking up, he saw a kindly old gentleman standing before him. The man was garbed in white, complete with tunic, turban, and sandals.
The old man’s voice was gentle and comforting. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Thomas was stunned. “You’ve been waiting for me?” he asked.
“Yes,” the man answered. “I knew you would receive my key. It was taken from me long ago, and now, if you please, I would very much like to have it back.”
Thomas closed his fingers tightly around the tiny key. “What key?” he asked.
“Don’t tire me, boy,” the old man said, clearly trying to remain calm. “I want the key. I saw him place that key in your hand.”
“You saw whom? I didn’t see anyone,” Thomas responded truthfully. “Besides, what business is it of yours what another may bequeath?”
The old man’s features twisted with rage. “It’s my key, I tell you! Give it to me at once!” He raised his hand to strike Thomas, but suddenly he wavered and backed away.
Thomas discovered a sword at his side. Feeling a sudden inner strength, he drew the blade and rose to his feet, facing the old man. The key still glowed in his left hand while his right held the sword. “A light has come into the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it,” Thomas shouted.
The old man turned to flee, but he shouted over his shoulder, “The key is mine! I’ll get it yet!”
Sheathing his blade, Thomas turned his attention to the key. A single silver chain ran through its handle. Looping the chain over his head, the key fell warm against his chest, filling his whole body with power and courage. What the key meant, why it had been entrusted to him, or why the old man laid claim to it, he did not know.
His thoughts were interrupted by a scream. Looking about, he saw a woman in the clutches of the serpent jailer. Though she fought and struggled, the jailer continued to drag her toward the flaming door.
“Halt!” Thomas’s voice boomed, and the prison wall shook. This time the serpent turned to eye him closely.
“Who troubles my labor?” the creature asked.
“Vile creature, what are you doing with the girl?” Thomas asked. “She has no desire to go where you are taking her.”
“This is not your business,” the creature said, and he turned to go.
“Stay,” Thomas commanded as he drew his blade. The serpent heeded the command but showed no fear of the sword. “The lady has no desire for the flames. Why should she go there?”
“You are in a realm that is not yours to command,” the serpent growled. “Those who have fallen into darkness will weep and gnash their teeth. Do you not hear the sound of their cries?”
Thomas stilled his thoughts and listened intently. Indeed, the whole cavity was filled with the soft sounds of men and women weeping. They gnawed their tongues, grieving over past sins and shortcomings, so wrapped up in their own remorse that they could not perceive one another.
“Yonder,” the serpent hissed, “are those who torment the unforgiving.”
“Then hold yet a minute,” Thomas said. Turning to the weeping woman, he spoke softly. “Daughter,” he said. It took some moments, but her weeping subsided. “Do you believe in Jesus?”
First the woman looked at her jailer, who stood resolute and unmoving. He still held her firmly in his strong hands. Then she looked at Thomas. There was fear in her eyes, but she nodded dumbly.
“Why do you fear answering, my lady?” Thomas asked gently.
The woman took courage and found her voice. “I think I believed once, but life has treated me cruelly. I cannot forgive those who …” Her voice trailed away.
Thomas tried to reach for her, but the serpent barred his way. “Our heavenly Father knows and understands,” Thomas said to the woman. “He has felt every wound and sorrow that has come your way.”
A look of wonder crossed the woman’s face. “But I have no forgiveness in my heart, and when I could not forgive, I found myself in this dreadful place. I do not know how to escape.”
Thomas asked, “Do you believe Jesus died for your sins?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Do you believe He loves you?”
The woman hesitated. “I used to think so. But I have been so wicked; I don’t see how He could love me now. Daily I’m reminded of my sins. It is written on the food. It is whispered in the air until I think I may scream. But I cannot speak to the Lord. Jesus is pure; He could not listen to a sinner like me.”
“Jesus is pure,” Thomas said. “But this is love: not that we loved Him, but that He first loved us and gave His life for us!”
A great surge of power flowed through the girl, shocking her captor and causing him to release his grip.
Thomas continued. “Jesus is faithful, even when we are not. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us. He does not wait until we are holy to listen to our cry. The only acceptable sacrifice to God is a broken and contrite heart. Release your bitterness and let Jesus’s love flow through you. You need not remain in this dungeon.”
At these words, the jailer turned and fled. The woman stood alone before Thomas. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were torn, but still he smiled upon her. She appeared shy, but she was the first to speak. “I know what you say is true, for it is written in the Book, but I do not know how to reach out and take it for myself.”
Thomas remembered the key around his neck. He withdrew the tiny key, and its radiance filled the vault with shimmering light.
She gasped at its splendor. “What is it?” she asked.
“A token of the faith our Father has given you! Stretch forth your hand and touch the gift of God, for by faith you have been set free.”
With trembling fingers, she reached toward the shining object in Thomas’s hand. “Are you sure it is all right?” she asked.
“It is freely given to all who believe,” Thomas said.
The instant her fingers touched the tiny key, several things happened at once. The woman disappeared, and bells began to clamor in the darkness. Voices were shouting, “There has been an escape. Bar the exits! Check the halls!”
Stunned by the woman’s disappearance and the blur of activity, Thomas dropped the key back under his shirt collar and began his own search for the young maiden. He could not imagine where she had gone.
The jailer raced to Thomas. “Where is she?” he demanded. His eyes were full of venom. “You will tell me what you have done with her!”
“I don’t know where she is,” Thomas responded, “but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The great viper began a slow, hypnotic dance, wrapping his snakelike tail in large coils around the room. His head swayed left and right. “You have a key, don’t you?” The serpent’s voice was low and menacing.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Thomas said. He had a growing suspicion that the jailer was stalling for time. Why did he need time? Was he setting a trap? Thomas felt the danger before it happened.
With a sudden sweep of his arm, Thomas drew his sword and leaped across the serpent’s coils. At the same moment, the serpent flung himself headlong into the exact position where Thomas had stood only a moment before. The move was so swift that he bowled down several grim creatures that had slipped up silently behind Thomas.
The blade in Thomas’s hand swept a deadly arc, rending the serpent asunder. With a vile scream, the great serpent lashed out at Thomas. Plowing into the earth at Thomas’s feet, he sent dirt flying in every direction.
Seizing the opportunity, Thomas ran to the nearest wall and found he could smash the chains of the bewildered prisoners. As the fetters fell from their limbs, something like scales fell from their eyes, and they perceived that their freedom was at hand.
A clamor of voices began calling, “Is there a way out? Show us the way.”
Thomas shouted, “Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Him!”
The earth began to tremble, and the vault rippled like a wave upon the sea. All the powers of hell were shaken. With a roar, the entire structure began to collapse. In the bedlam, every captive was set free. A light broke through the darkness, revealing a stairway.
Thomas shouted over the confusion, “Walk in the light, for He is the light! Follow me!” Leaping up the stairs two at a time, he led a host of captives toward freedom. At the top of the stairs across a broad landing, a heavy iron door barred their escape. Thomas retrieved his key and found that it fit the lock perfectly.
The door swung open, and Thomas shouted, “Even the gates of hell shall not stand against faith in the Lord Jesus! Let us go onward and upward.”
A beautiful woman stepped near the door, crying most piteously. “Oh, please help me, my lord,” she said.
“What is it, lass?” Thomas asked, bending near her.
“I have lost something very precious to me. I think I have left it behind. Could you go back and look for it?” Her eyes were deeply beseeching, and her voice broke with emotion.
Bending still closer, Thomas spoke softly. “There is nothing of lasting value down there. Come away, and what you have lost will be replaced with something of far greater value.”
He was caught off guard. She grabbed for the key in his hand. “It’s mine!” The voice hardened, and her hand became thick and covered with scales.
Reeling in horror, Thomas beheld a terrible dragon where the woman had been. Its scales were plates of armor, and its breath was hot and foul. Spreading its massive body across the doorway, it roared, “The key is mine!” in a voice that rumbled like thunder.
“Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved!” Thomas shouted, drawing his sword. The dragon’s armor plates could not withstand the sword of truth. For the Word of God is living and active, sharper than a two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
Thomas and the beast battled back and forth. In a burst of will, Thomas drove the demon to the very edge of a great precipice. With a final lunge, he drove this blade deep into the heart of his enemy, shouting, “Return to your master, the father of all lies!”
A terrifying screech filled the ruined chamber as the great beast tumbled over the edge and plummeted toward his destruction. The dragon’s massive tail unfurled, opening the exit but catching Thomas’s legs and hurling him into space.
“Save yourselves!” Thomas screamed as he fell past those on the stairs. Obeying his command, they raced up the stairs and plunged through the door into freedom.
After falling for what seemed an age, Thomas awoke to a world of decay. There was no light. His key was missing, and he could not move. He had no concept of how long he lay there until a strange glimmer of light flickered around him. As the light grew, two shadowy creatures came toward him, and when each had taken an arm, they lifted him from the mire.
Mathias gasped. They had entered a chamber so corrupt that even Seagood turned away. Rats swarmed over a massive pile of decaying human bodies.
Before Seagood could leave, Mathias caught his arm. “No!” he said. “We have to look! We can’t turn back now!”
Reluctantly the two men turned to the putrid pile of flesh. Scattering rats with their torch, they climbed into the pile. As they sank into the ooze, both men gagged.
Again Seagood turned to go, but Mathias called, “Wait! I saw something!”
In the faint torchlight, Seagood saw two eyes peering at him. Plowing through the bodies as if they were not there, he clambered to the top of the pile, Mathias right behind him.
Tears poured down their cheeks, and looking to heaven, they both gave thanks. Miracle of miracles, they had found Thomas.