32

AFTER LEAVING the sea, I slept in the desert night next to Talya, and there I dreamed.

In that dream I was in a cabin with Thomas Hunter, drinking a trickle of water squeezed from his hair. In a rush, the full meaning of the first three seals filled my mind once again. I was aware that I was dreaming, and this me was screaming encouragement to the me who was being reborn as the 49th on Earth as each seal entered my consciousness.

It was then that she who was me found the Fourth Seal on the door of the cabin. I was asleep in Other Earth, but when she put her hand on the cross, uttered those words, and experienced the Fourth Seal, my entire body in Other Earth began to shake violently even as I slept.

I was aware that my right shoulder was burning, and I knew that the Fourth Seal had found me. If Talya had been awake—and he might have been, for all I knew—he would have seen a slender girl lying on the sand, shaking like a leaf in the wind as the full power of the Fourth Seal filled every cell of her body.

Then I was with Thomas in the dream, deciding my fate. I still had the final seal to find.

The next awareness I had was of a bright light shining down on me. The sun, I thought. I’m in the desert and it’s day.

I opened my eyes and bolted up, gasping. I jerked my sleeve up and stared at the red cross that had manifested on my shoulder as I slept.

A low chuckle on my left broke the stillness and I turned.

Talya was picking at his teeth with a twig, watching me. “You like?”

Something had shifted in me. Everything felt new. Not necessarily different, but new, as if the world around me was still terra firma but now alive with an energy I’d never known.

“When you actually surrender the old, you actually experience everything as new,” Talya said.

I slowly stood, scanning the desert, the tree line to our right, the blue sky above. I didn’t know how to describe what I was seeing, maybe because in some ways I was seeing for the first time beyond what had blocked my sight.

Talya said that everything not done in a binding to the light, a binding called faith, was called sin by the ancients. It was best understood as being off center or missing the mark or blindness, not simply deeds done. Whatever was not done in faith was sin. So even most lived in sin most of the time, experiencing powerless lives.1

But I had surrendered out of the world of sin. It wasn’t a bad world as much as it was a blind world.

I was seeing as Inchristi.

And in that sight everything looked alive as if for the first time. Everything was the same and radically different at the same time. Greens were greener, the sky was bluer. Even the sand seemed to be alive.

All was held together Inchristi.

Talya had asked me if I liked it. There was no need to answer the question. It was impossible not to like this. I was home.

“Not quite yet,” Talya said. “Tomorrow.”

What is shown to be in the one who sees, dear daughter?

The voice washed over me like a sweet, warm breath and my heart jumped. The final finger, pointing to the last seal!

“The Fifth Seal!” I said. “I have to find the Fifth Seal.”

“You do.” Talya stood and flicked the twig away. “And you must know that you will be tempted to bind once more to the cares and concerns of the world, which so easily choke out all four seals. It’s easy to once again want what used to be so comforting to the earthen vessel. And you always get what you truly want.”

But I was too distracted by my quest for the Fifth Seal to ponder his words.

“What is shown to be in the one who sees? It’s the fifth finger. Do I have it in the other world?”

“She will when she dreams tonight.”

“What if Vlad gets to me before then?”

“If she abides in the Fourth Seal, he won’t.”

“Will she?”

“Will you?”

With those words my momentary concern fell away. My place was to see in each moment to the extent I could, not worry about whether I might see in the next moment.

I faced the desert. Talya hadn’t told me what to expect, only that my way would be treacherous. Resting now in new sight, I couldn’t imagine anything being treacherous. How could it be, if I’d surrendered my attachment to this earthen vessel?

“There was a teaching,” he said. “A man was cleansed of what blocked his sight. But the accuser that blocked his sight went out and found seven more like himself, and they returned to find the man’s mind ready to be blinded once more. So the man entered an even deeper blindness. That’s how, 49th. It’s common.”

Even then, after all I had been through, I felt no concern.

“Remember, they can only accuse. Fear is their greatest power. When the evil man comes against you, turn the other cheek. The only thing you require is the armor of your true identity, as Paulus so eloquently put it. Your resistance is being who you are: the light of the world.”

I looked at him. “You’re leaving me again?”

He walked up to me and lowered himself to one knee.

“I return to the Realm. They need me now. You must go alone, 49th.” He searched my eyes, and I thought I could see tears building. “I am so proud of you. No matter what happens now, know that. I see no failure in you, even if you fail. Promise me you’ll remember.”

I choked up. Not with sorrow, but with love. I cupped his head in my hands and kissed his forehead.

“I promise.” Then I dropped to my knees too and threw my arms around him like the child I was. “I love you, Talya. I will always love you!”

His long arms held me close. “I am so honored to know you.”

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, stood, and walked toward the horses. He led my pale mare back, saddled and ready.

“Follow the desert due south. When you see the black cloud in the east, head toward it.”

I looked south and east, seeing only a bright blue sky. “Just head for the black cloud? What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to follow your heart.”

What is shown to be in the one who sees? Find the Fifth Seal.

“What if I can’t trust my heart?”

“You can always trust your heart. It’s your mind that gives you trouble. Your cognitive perception.”

I wasn’t sure I knew the difference, but I nodded anyway.

“You must go.”

He handed me the reins and I swung into the saddle.

Without warning, Talya slapped the mare’s rump and it surged forward.

“The Fifth Seal, 49th!” he called out after me. “Bring us the Fifth Seal!”

I twisted back. “I will.”

Little did I know what I was saying.

I RODE six hours by my estimation before I saw the black cloud, high above the desert. Each stride of my mount felt like a step into newness. I had no concerns, no fear, no conflict of any kind. I was simply the daughter of Elyon, riding in a dimension that had been created for me, where I could be the light. In it but not of it.

Honestly, I could hardly wipe the grin from my face. I replayed my time with the boy over and over, enchanted by his staggering power and innocence. To say that he was Elyon would be a mistake, because God could not fit in a box called boy. To say that he wasn’t Elyon would also be a mistake, because he was. And that also made me smile, because it made perfect sense to me.

Not to my earthen vessel mind, but to my eternal mind, which was my heart, I supposed. How could the earthen vessel’s mind describe, much less grasp, the infinite?

It couldn’t, but the heart could.

Follow your heart, Talya said.

So I did.

It led me east toward the black cloud. A thundercloud, maybe. But it didn’t move with the breeze. So what kind of cloud was it?

The reason I didn’t see it for what it was until I was only a few miles away must have been because I was so caught up in the wonder of the Fourth Seal, my surrender out of suffering and into light.

But then I did see it, rotating around itself like a gathering hurricane stuck over a valley. It wasn’t a cloud.

I stopped my horse and stared.

It was Shataiki. Hundreds of thousands of them.

“Hmm.” Curious.

I still felt no fear. I saw them with my eyes, but I wasn’t perceiving their fear, not even when I crested a low dune and saw into the valley ahead of me.

I pulled up, stunned.

It was the same valley I’d met Qurong in a few days earlier. Only now his army wasn’t in the valley. It blanketed the northern hills, a sea of horses and Horde and mallets and axes and spears and sickles. Unmoving. Dark. The Elyonite army hugged the slopes on the other side of the valley, leaving a wide swath of vacant desert with something posted in the center. A cross of some kind.

Beyond the valley, the Great Divide rose on the horizon. Above the valley, the swarm of Shataiki slowly churned.

I felt no fear because I knew I could easily pass through the valley without being harmed. I could use that power just like Talya had used it. Was I supposed to?

As if in response to my question, two lines of horses, one from each side of the valley, broke free from the main bodies and surged toward me, still a mile distant.

I clicked and my mare headed forward, straight toward the center of the valley.

The two columns of warriors reached me when I was halfway, sweeping wide and behind to cut off any escape. But they didn’t concern me.

The cross suddenly did, because I could now see they’d hung a man from it.

Jacob? Where was Jacob?

I looked at the columns to my left and right, each roughly a hundred paces from where I rode, watching me warily.

And Jacob? Talya had told me he was returning as agreed.

I blinked and studied the nearly naked Albino on the cross, head hung, hair covering his face. It was him, I could feel it in my bones.

Now unnerved, I spurred my mount and took it into an easy gallop, eyes fixed on that cross. Immediately, the columns to my right and left matched my movements. A dozen Shataiki spiraled from the throng above and streaked toward the cross, where they landed on the body like vultures intent on feeding.

I spurred my mount faster, thinking only that I had to save Jacob!

Two smaller groups broke from the hills and galloped toward the center of the valley to meet me. I recognized Aaron with his escort on the right, Qurong and the priest, Ba’al, on the left.

They reached the cross thirty seconds before I pulled my mount to a walk, fifty paces from the scene. I was breathing hard now, knowing that I was sliding into fear and trying my best to let it go.

My demise was one thing. But Jacob? I didn’t want him to suffer!

All of Talya’s and little Maya’s and Soromi’s and the boy’s teachings on letting go whispered to me, but my attention was on the body. I still couldn’t see his face.

“She’s Albino!” Ba’al croaked on my left.

I pulled to a stop, staring up at the man hanging from the beams. For a few breaths, no one spoke. It was just me ten paces from the cross, and the high commanders of both armies seated on horses flanking me.

Ba’al left Qurong’s side and nudged his horse to the base of the cross, pale eyes on me, unblinking. In his hand, a long spear.

“Do you love this one, wicked witch?” he rasped.

I studied the man on the cross, letting fear wash through me. Do not resist, Talya had said, so I didn’t, but I wasn’t liking it.

What is shown to be in the one who sees, dear daughter?

Ba’al spoke over the gentle voice.

“Do you come into our noose to save your precious Albino?”

It was Jacob, then! The priest was punishing him for turning Albino! They’d set him as a trap.

“Take her!” he screeched.

Seven or eight Horde broke from the left, six Elyonites from the right, all galloping toward me. They were halfway to me before I lifted both arms, palms facing each group of warriors. As if hit by an unseen force, their horses pulled up sharply, rearing, clawing at the air with their hooves.

“No,” I said.

A commotion stirred among all who could see. Qurong’s horse jerked back, stamping. Aaron stared at me, stunned.

“No, you will not take me.” Power surged through me. “You will cut him down.”

Ba’al grinned wickedly, lifting the spearhead to Jacob’s side. The sharp tip rested against his flesh.

“You don’t understand, witch. Either he dies or you surrender yourself to face the consequences of your heresy. Five hundred thousand warriors encircle you. How many can you take before an arrow finds his heart?”

And with that he gave his spear a little jab. Enough to send pain through the man’s body and jerk him back into consciousness.

He groaned and lifted his head. His hair fell from his face and I saw that it wasn’t Jacob. It was Samuel. Samuel.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me, only half aware. But in his eyes I could see that he’d betrayed me. They knew where the Realm of Mystics was.

Now they’d betrayed him, beaten him, humiliated him in the face of the whole world. None of them could see the Shataiki flapping around his head now, driving their talons into his brain, feeding on what life he still had.

None of them could see, but I could, and compassion swallowed me whole.

What is shown to be in the one who sees?

A commotion behind me begged for my attention—someone yelling my name—but it felt distant. I stared at Samuel, unable to tear my eyes from his face, stunned by the surge of new emotions washing through me. I didn’t lower myself to the energy of pity for him. Compassion was something else. An openness to him. A oneness with him.

Tell me, what is shown to be in the one who sees? Whisper it to me. Join with me and we will tell the world.

I knew the answer, didn’t I? My heart knew. But I didn’t have the words.

The commotion behind me grew louder. Qurong grunted. A murmur rose from the Horde army on my left. But I was swimming in a new knowing, and I felt my muscles begin to relax.

Everything seemed to slow down. Sound became distant. A faint hum filled the valley. The Shataiki became more frantic, screeching now, but even those panicked shrieks were oddly vacant.

Yes, sweet daughter. Yes . . .

“Rachelle!” a voice was crying out behind me.

Jacob’s voice. He’d returned. My beautiful Jacob had come back. But I didn’t turn. He wasn’t my path now. Samuel was.

My hands began to tremble. What my mind was accepting, my body still couldn’t fully grasp.

Then Jacob was to my right, pulling his mount up with tight reins. His eyes darted to the cross. Then to Qurong. “What’s the meaning of this?”

I felt a tear slip down my cheek. Samuel, Samuel, dear Samuel . . . In that moment Samuel was Jacob, you see? What you do to the least of these, you do to me. I held no distinction between Jacob and Samuel then. One was no more special than the other.

“Back away!” Ba’al snarled at Jacob. “You defile all that is sacred, and now you conspire with the wickedness that tears this world in two. Back!”

Jacob’s mount stamped. He spun to me. “Save yourself, Rachelle! Samuel’s chosen his path.”

Qurong had turned his face from Jacob. The world went still around me as I slowly turned my head to look into Jacob’s eyes. How beautiful he was! Such a worthy man with a heart spun from gold.

My jaw quivered as I spoke, still flowing with a sweeping power none of them yet knew.

“I love you, Jacob,” I said. “This is my path. It’s going to be okay.”

“What’s your path?”

“Samuel,” I said, facing Ba’al. “Cut him down and take me.”

“No!” Jacob cried.

I slid from my horse and walked toward Ba’al.

“Cut him down,” I said, dropping to my knees in the sand. “Set Samuel free and the 49th is yours.”

Ba’al had frozen, taken off guard. Feet landed hard in the sand behind me.

“Then you’ll take me!” Jacob rasped, falling to his knees. “Take me for her!”

“Qurong!” I heard Jacob’s mother screaming behind us, rushing through the ranks. “Jacob!”

“Hold her back!” Ba’al cried.

“Don’t you dare touch my boy, you filthy little beast! Jacob . . .”

Then she was silenced. I heard her body crash to the ground.

Part of me wanted to protest with her, but my eyes were on Samuel again, hanging above me, body broken, spirit crushed. He was the light of the world, there before me.

What a beautiful daughter you are to me. What a beautiful son he is to me. Now you know, dear one. Now you know.

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. They weren’t for me or for Jacob. They were tears of compassion for Samuel. Beautiful, beautiful son, Samuel . . .

Ba’al snapped his fingers and one of the guards approached Jacob. A nod from Ba’al and his mallet fell on Jacob’s head. My warrior fell face forward in the sand.

But my eyes were still on Samuel and I was weeping with him now. He was every man, every woman, every child, every father, every mother, desperate to know themselves in a world of polarity, torn apart by opposites.

And yet I wasn’t torn in that moment. I wasn’t opposites. I was love.

Ba’al stepped forward, gloating. “And so the end has come. Salvation awaits us all!” His voice rang out for all to hear. He shoved his spear at me.

“Take her!”