chapter 15
THE PROPHETIC WALL
After guiding Elam and Naamah across a marshy field populated by wood ducks and hefty bullfrogs, Dikaios led them up to a drier plane and stopped at the edge of a forest. “This is the Skotos Woods,” he said. “Since it is dense and quite dark, some of the wanderers in these lands hide or sleep here after they have wearied themselves trying to find the altar.”
Elam stepped over an oak’s low-hanging limb and set his hand on the trunk. “Have they ever shown any signs of violence?”
“I believe violence is possible. They are desperate, so their behavior is unpredictable. We would be wise not to alert them to our presence.”
Wearing a wreath she had fashioned with marsh reeds and white flowers, Naamah scanned the long line of trees. “Is going around an option?”
“It is an option,” Dikaios replied, “but Skotos is very wide at this point, so going around would take at least three additional hours.”
“Lead the way, Dikaios.” Elam nodded toward the woods. “We’ll just have to be as quiet as possible until we come back out into the light.”
As they navigated between massive tree trunks on a meandering path of trodden leaves, the canopy thickened, and the woods grew darker. Ducking under vines that formed sagging bridges between the trees, Elam pushed away branches that invaded their path, holding them until Naamah could pass by unhindered.
Soon, the forest began to thin out. The smell of burning wood hung in the motionless air, but no crackling logs or fireside chatter gave any audible hints to the source of the odor. Dikaios stopped at a hedge that bordered a glade. The bushes rose high enough to prevent someone from peering over the top, but there were several gaps that allowed for easy passage.
When Elam and Naamah caught up, he plodded into the clearing, glancing back and forth as he high-stepped over leaves that had blown on the path. In the center of the oval glade they found the remains of a campfire and several places where the leaves had been swept together into bedding.
Elam bent down and picked up a long stick with a charred end. He touched the black ashes. Still warm, but just barely. Quietly setting it down again, he nodded to Dikaios, and the horse continued on the path.
Just as they reached the other end of the clearing, a timid voice called out. “Excuse me?”
Turning in the direction of the voice, Elam gestured for Naamah to move behind a wide tree. A bespectacled, middle-aged man emerged from the forest and tripped over a root. He stumbled into the clearing and fell on his face.
Elam hustled to his side and helped him to his feet. As Dikaios and Naamah joined them, the man brushed off his clothes, a button-down white formal shirt and a pair of ragged black pants. With dirty smears and fingertip-sized holes covering his garments from top to bottom, he seemed well acquainted with stumbling.
His hands trembling, he bowed his head to Elam, then to Dikaios and Naamah. His voice matched the tremors in his hands. “I am lost and in need of help. Have you come to take me to Heaven’s altar?”
“Have you found the key?” Elam asked.
The man shook his head sadly. “I have searched everywhere. I was hoping that if I found the door to the altar, I might see what kind of key is needed. Then, once I knew its size, I could continue my search with a better knowledge of what I’m looking for.”
Dikaios stepped forward. “What is your name, and how did you get here?”
“I was called Zane on Earth, and my friends here call me Maestro, because I often lead them in song. My coming to this place is the result of a harsh journey. You see, when I knew death was approaching, I went to sleep expecting to awaken in Heaven, but I found myself in a strange land. After asking countless people where I was supposed to go, I wandered into a forest where I had to fend off a hairy beast, but a barely visible man rescued me. After asking me countless questions, he allowed me to enter this place. While it is lovelier than the previous land, it still seemed somewhat of a disappointment compared to the glorious splendor I expected to see in Heaven.”
“This is not Heaven,” Elam explained. “These are the Bridgelands, the approach to Heaven.”
“Yes. Yes, I learned that from the transparent fellow who brought me here from the other land. I also learned that I need to find the final gateway, Heaven’s altar, but that destination has eluded me for years.”
Elam glanced around. “You said you have friends. Where are they?”
“They are out on their daily search.” Zane pushed one of the leaf beds with his foot. “We are ten in all, and we regularly congregate here. We warm ourselves around a fire and discuss our journeys, and we find it beneficial to compare notes about what we discover.”
“Did they all get here the same way you did?” Elam asked.
“We arrived at different times, but we all followed the same course. First, I met the transparent gentleman in the forest, and, after arriving here, I came upon a deep chasm. A rickety bridge spanned the gap, and it seemed much too dangerous to cross. Thanks be to God, a lady in a red cloak guided me to a much safer passage. Ever since that time, I have been searching for the altar.”
“Did the other nine mention the lady in red?”
“Yes.” Zane slid his glasses higher on his nose. “She was a grand topic of conversation. Since the ten of us have similar backgrounds in theology, we are able to converse using the language of our discipline, so we debated her symbolic meaning in our journeys. Since she came to us at the moment we had to cross the bridge, we decided to call her Providence, the symbol of divine intervention.”
Dikaios slapped his tail against Zane’s backside. “The camaraderie of similar scholarship helps isthmian thinking flourish.”
Zane glared at the horse. “Excuse me? I don’t grasp your meaning.”
“‘Cannot grasp’ would be a better phrase,” Dikaios grumbled.
“Never mind him.” Elam brushed the remaining leaves from Zane’s shirt. “We are also in search of the altar. When we find it, I hope to do as you mentioned—learn more about the key and what is needed to enter. Then, if we are allowed to return and tell others how to follow, I will.”
“That would be excellent!” Zane pressed his hands together and looked at Elam hopefully. “May I come with you?”
Elam glanced at Dikaios, but the horse merely blinked at him.
“Would you leave without your friends?”
“Oh, they will return soon, I’m sure. Very soon. You will wait, won’t you?”
“Let’s do this,” Elam said. “When your friends come back, build another fire and stay together. If I don’t return by the time it becomes ashes, then you can assume that I’m not coming back.”
Zane began breathing hard, almost hyperventilating. “How tall should I make the pyre? How much wood do I use?”
“How big is your faith?” Elam smiled and walked away, stealthily glancing behind him to catch Zane’s confused expression.
Finally, Zane lifted a thin branch and waved it. “I see! The larger my fire, the more willing I am to wait!”
Elam took Naamah’s hand and patted Dikaios on the neck. “Let’s go.”
When they traveled out of earshot, Dikaios muttered, “Have you given this man false hope? How do you know you will return?”
“I only told him I hoped to return, and I assume his hope should be built upon the faith he has.” Elam pushed aside a branch as they passed through the bordering hedge. “If there’s one thing I learned from Merlin, it’s this. When we aren’t sure where we’re going, faith and hope are the most solid stepping-stones we have.”
“I see. You must have chosen to cross the bridge rather than follow the woman in red.” Dikaios said nothing more, and the three walked through the remainder of the forest in silence.
After another half hour, the woods opened up into a wide, grassy plain, dressed from one end to the other with brilliant wildflowers. In the distance, low hills gradually gave way to rocky ridges and mountains with a path leading upward through the lower elevations.
Their walk through the scented grass proved easy and pleasant, and when they arrived at the upward path, Elam felt refreshed and ready to climb. After about an hour, the path grew steeper, though it remained grassy and wide, comfortable for feet, shoes, and hooves.
Rocky banks rose sharply on the right, and a sheer drop into a river valley threatened on the left. Tropical trees lined the river far below, sporting branches alive with activity as small animals resembling monkeys swung from vine to vine.
When they reached a point where the rising shoulder to the right sloped more gradually, Dikaios stopped and bobbed his head at a sheer mountain face about a hundred feet away, a massive marble wall that jutted straight up for about a thousand feet.
“The Cliff of Promise,” Dikaios said. “It reveals truths that cannot be seen with the eye—truths from the past, present, and expected future.”
“Expected future?” Elam asked.
The horse nodded. “A wise man once told me that God’s promises of future tidings always come true, but many events about which God remains silent lie in the realm of the merely possible.”
“Okay,” Elam said, stretching out the word, “that’s a little too deep to go into right now.” He gazed at the drawing on the white cliff. In the center, a globe of the Earth displayed the western hemisphere in the foreground. To the left, seven black discs hovered, one on top of the other, with white spacers in between that matched the thickness of an individual disc. The height of the entire stack equaled the north-to-south diameter of the Earth. To the right of the Earth, a stone prayer bench sat beneath an altar of gold. Two girls knelt at the bench, while an old man stood next to the altar wearing a long robe.
As he took in all the amazing detail, the drawing moved. The Earth slowly rotated, while the discs spun almost imperceptibly. The man at the altar bent over and laid a hand on one of the girls, apparently speaking to her.
“If it’s a drawing,” Elam said, “how does it move?”
Dikaios set a foreleg on the slope. “Look closely. Every line is made up of living dots. They are insects of some kind, though I am not aware of the name of the species.”
With Naamah following close behind, Elam walked up the gradual slope until he was within reach of the cliff. “They look like big grasshoppers,” he said.
“Locusts.” Naamah bent over and eyed one closely. “They are of the same variety God used to smite Egypt.”
“So,” Elam said, backing toward Dikaios, “what’s this wall supposed to tell us?”
“Did not the angel say that a new song would change the drawing?” Dikaios asked.
Elam crossed his arms over his chest. “So I guess one of us has to sing.”
“Not I,” Dikaios said. “My voice would frighten the insects away.”
“Well, I’m no singer.” Elam looked at Naamah expectantly. “But I know someone who is.”
Her eyes darkened as she stared back at him. “I am a songstress, Elam, but I have no words to sing in such a holy place. Who am I to command a prophetic image to appear on this sacred wall?”
“The angel said you were supposed to explain it.” Elam spread out his hands. “So who else can do it?”
Naamah gave a quick curtsy, then, scooting in close to Elam, clutched his tunic and whispered. “Master Elam, you put me in a quandary. I wish to obey and sing, but I haven’t the words. The songs I know are vulgar and dark.”
“Maybe if you just close your eyes and hum one of your tunes, new words will pop into your mind.”
Naamah released his tunic and backed away. She stared at him again for a moment, then slowly bowed her head. “I will do as you say, but I cannot promise a sensible song.”
“Just do the best you can.” Elam turned and walked away from the mountain face. “Let’s move to where we can see the drawing better.”
When they arrived at the original path, Naamah lowered herself to her knees, folding her hands and closing her eyes. With the garland of reeds and tiny white flowers resting on her jet black hair, she looked like a fairy princess ready for bedtime prayers. At first, she just moved her lips silently, as if praying, then, a beautiful melody arose, like the morning psalm of a heavenly nightingale.
Dikaios and Elam moved closer to Naamah. Elam knelt next to her, listening intently while gazing at the slowly spinning Earth on the cliff. Soon, words began to blend in with the melody, and phrases seemed to take physical shape, like doves made out of pure light, flying from Naamah’s lips toward the massive drawing. The song flowed on the breeze as the feathered words made flight and blended in with the dark insects on the wall.
Created holy, man has died
And reaped the evil seed he sowed,
So now he plows in futile sand,
The ox who kicks the prodding goad.
As the song proceeded, the locusts formed images to match the words, rapidly changing each scene. They showed a man and woman with a fruit, then a man pushing a plow and shaking a fist in the air.
To God he builds a tower of stone,
His pride, an arrow to the sky,
Believing clay and flesh and blood
Can reach the holy seat on high.
The drawing shifted to a tall ziggurat that pierced the clouds, but dragons flew around the tower and toppled it with a cyclone of fire.
Alas! The tower begins anew,
A threat that now has breached the wall
That separates the men of Earth
From souls who live in Hades’ hall.
The image of the Earth and the seven stacked discs reappeared. The two worlds drifted closer and closer together until they collided. The discs transformed into locusts that flew into the Earth, and the image seemed to magnify, as if the one viewing the scene were flying in for a landing somewhere in the United States. Suddenly, hairy men with fangs appeared. They prowled a city street, chasing small humans into dark alleys.
A giant reaching to the sky,
With bolts of lightning twisting ’round,
Is seeking not to climb to God,
But strives to bring the heavens down.
The altar with the praying girls reappeared on the face of the mountain. To the left, a giant lifted his hands, and jagged streaks shot out from his fingers. The streaks wrapped up in a vortex and reached for the altar like twisted strands of spider webbing shooting at a victim. The streaks grabbed the altar and drew it closer and closer until …
The image suddenly vanished, but Naamah’s song continued.
Protect the Earth, my chosen one,
By standing fast at Heaven’s shield,
For Mardon’s plan will come to pass
If Elam’s faith should bend and yield.
Turning pale, Naamah exhaled loudly and toppled to the side. Her cheek thumped heavily on the path.
Elam pulled her upright and whispered, “Naamah, are you okay?”
Her head swayed back and forth for a moment, but it finally steadied, and she opened her eyes. A gentle smile graced her lips. “I did it, didn’t I?”
Elam brushed specks of grass and sand from her face. “You were amazing!” Rising to his feet, he pulled Naamah up.
“So do you understand the song?” she asked. “The words came through my mind, so I sang them, but they were a mystery to me.”
Elam gazed at the massive wall. “I understood everything except what I’m supposed to do. I have to stand fast at Heaven’s shield, whatever that means, and that’s supposed to stop Mardon’s plan to bring Heaven down to Earth.”
Dikaios nudged Elam with his nose. “Heaven’s shield is a gate that leads to the altar of God. This is the very place you have been searching for since you arrived.”
“Do you know how to get there?”
The horse turned his head, avoiding Elam’s stare. “You have asked me this question before.”
Elam stepped back into Dikaios’s line of sight. “And you didn’t answer.”
“I had to wait until you passed the tests, and you have done so.”
“I did? What tests?”
“Your tests of character.” Dikaios gave a snorting laugh. “You passed them, and you were not even aware you were being examined.”
Elam extended an arm toward the path. “So can you tell me now? How do I find the shield?”
“I will show you, but you must ride. We have a long journey to the shield, too long considering the task that lies ahead after we find it.”
Naamah pulled together her borrowed cloak and clutched it tightly against her waist. Leaning her head against Elam’s chest, she pleaded, “I beg you to take me with you. I know that my usefulness has already been spent, but I can do manual labor. You have seen me work, Elam. I am not a lazy woman.”
Elam hovered his hand over her circlet, wondering if he should comfort her. With her enchanting voice vibrating his skin, it seemed that his own heart vibrated in response. But was this from sympathy, or was it a warning? Could she still be the enemy who wanted to drink the life within? Or did her tears really signify contriteness in her soul?
Heat and wetness from Naamah’s tears penetrated Elam’s tunic and dampened his skin. He gently caressed her hair and said, “Of course you’re not lazy.” He looked at Dikaios. “Can you take two?”
The horse turned toward the wall. The image of the Earth had reappeared, but this time, the discs lay superimposed on the globe, and twisting webs were shooting toward the altar on the right. He lifted his eyes toward the sky. Dark clouds boiled on the horizon behind them, churning and racing in their direction.
Dikaios bobbed his head. “Very well. The lady may ride behind you.” He lowered himself to the ground and looked up to the sky. “Climb on quickly. The storm to end all storms is fast approaching, and it will take all my speed to stay ahead of it.”
Ashley pulled one of the pennies from her pocket and clutched it tightly in her hand. Stretching her arms and legs as far as she could reach, she spread her body over Roxil and aimed her eyes at her dragon-sister’s chest. “Let’s go for it, Walter!” she called. “She’s huge, so give it all you’ve got!”
Walter charged up Excalibur’s beam and pointed it at the ground. Energy sizzled across the rocky floor and surged into Ashley once again. She lurched but hung on. White light streamed from every part of her body, radiating into the scales, while two narrow beams shot from her eyes and drilled into Roxil’s chest. “More!” Ashley called. “We need more!”
Tightening his grip, Walter threw all his energy into the sword. A new flash of light burst forth and charged into Ashley. She lurched again and cried out with a blood-curdling scream, her limbs locking around her sister.
Walter’s hands shook so hard he could barely hang on. His shout vibrated with his tremors. “Should I stop?”
Ashley’s body quaked violently as she formed words with her screams. “Not … until … her eyes … open!”
Sapphira dropped to her knees in front of Roxil’s face. “I’m watching her eyes! I’ll let you know!”
His arms locking in place, Walter continued blasting Excalibur’s beam into Ashley. Her body bucked so violently, she had to latch onto Roxil’s foreleg and one of her spines to keep from falling off. She bit her lip so hard, blood oozed down to her chin.
“I see her eyes!” Sapphira yelled. “She’s awake!”
Walter shut the beam off and hustled to Ashley, resheathing Excalibur as he ran. She lay motionless on the dragon’s flank, facedown and arms splayed. He laid a hand on her back but withdrew it quickly. “She feels like she’s on fire!”
Roxil lifted her head and swung it back to where Ashley lay. “Why is this human lying on me?” Her tail came forward and began pushing Ashley’s body down her flank.
“No!” Walter shoved Roxil’s tail away. “For your information, that’s your sister Ashley, and she just healed you.” He cradled Ashley and carried her away from the dragon, ignoring the stinging heat radiating from her body. “We have to cool her down somehow!”
Sapphira held out her hand. “The rain’s getting heavier, and it’s ice cold.”
“That should help.” Walter laid her gently on the floor. “But will it be enough?”
As she pulled off Ashley’s shoes, Sapphira nodded at Gabriel. “Take Walter to the top and see if you can get any news. Karen and I will sponge her down.”
Still on his knees at Ashley’s side, Walter caressed her hand. “But I can’t leave her until I know she’s going to be”
“Go!” Sapphira ordered. She and Karen hurriedly stripped off Ashley’s jacket, rocking her body to the side to pull it free. “Roxil will get us out of here when we’re ready.”
Turning his head, Walter shuffled away, kicking through the debris the fiery cyclone hadn’t spun into oblivion.
Gabriel ran up and patted him on the back. “You ready for a ride?”
“Sure.” Walter shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s see what’s going on up there.”
Gabriel unstrapped Walter’s scabbard, sword and all, and handed it to him. Then, wrapping his arms around Walter’s chest from behind, he lifted off.
When Gabriel turned into the breeze, Walter resisted the urge to look back, choosing instead to gaze up into the weeping sky and concentrate on breathing slowly through Gabriel’s tight squeeze. Needlelike ice mixed in with the rain, stinging his cheeks. But that was good—the colder, the better. Cold was now a gift from above, something that could undo the terrible damage he might have done.
Walter gnashed his teeth. That stupid dragon wasn’t worth saving, not if it meant losing Ashley! Sister or no sister, Roxil was a pest. She seemed callous and cold. He mocked the dragon’s words in a high, exaggerated tone. “Why is this human lying on me?”
“Did you say something?” Gabriel asked.
“Yeah, but I’d better not repeat it.”
Gabriel laughed. “Suit yourself. We’re almost there.”
A few seconds later, Walter felt his weight press down on his feet again. Wind gusts from Gabriel’s wings bounced off the ground and breezed into his face as the pressure around his chest loosened.
Tucking the scabbard under one arm, Walter dug out his cell phone and flipped it open. No signal at all. He drooped his head and walked far enough from the pit to avoid a view of the bottom.
“Don’t worry,” Gabriel said. “She’s thousands of feet down. You wouldn’t be able to tell skin from scales from this distance.”
Walter shoved the cell phone back into his pocket. “Aren’t you worried about your sister?”
“Worried sick.” Gabriel clenched Walter’s shoulder. “But we have to do what we have to do.”
“And what would that be?” Walter turned in a slow circle, eyeing the surrounding trees for any sign of movement. “There’s nothing to do around here.”
Gabriel zipped his lightweight jacket all the way up and pointed at the grass. “These should give us a clue.” He pressed his foot into one of the giants’ tracks. “The ground’s probably wet for miles, so we should be able to follow their trail, at least for a while.”
Walter smirked. “On the ground or in the air?”
“I’m not about to carry you all over the countryside. You take the ground, and I’ll patrol from the air. With all the crazy stuff going on, I don’t think anyone’s going to think twice about a winged teenager flying around.”
“Sounds cool.” Walter slung the scabbard back on and jerked the strap tight. “Tangling with massive, laser-eyed giants who laugh at Excalibur’s beam is a great way to pass the time. That’s my kind of party.”
Gabriel pumped his fist. “Now you’re talking!”
Walter glanced back at the enormous pit but could see only a dozen or so feet of the sheer wall on the opposite side. He turned in the direction the tracks led and pumped his own fist. “Let’s get going.”
With three wing beats, Gabriel lifted off the ground, and, a few seconds later, he was circling from about a hundred feet overhead. “Can you hear me?” he called.
“Yeah! Loud and clear!” Walter marched alongside the huge tracks, glancing up at Gabriel every few seconds. When the path led into the surrounding forest, he grabbed a thick walking stick. Every several yards, he plunged it into the ground and gouged out a fist-sized ball of earth. “Hansel and Gretel have nothing on me,” he mumbled.
The tracks became harder to find, but scattered leaves mixed with mud usually led him in the right direction, and Gabriel frequently swooped closer and pointed out muddy patches farther ahead that gave away the giants’ distinctive prints.
With rain and sleet pelting his hair, Walter pulled his jacket tightly closed and began to trot, pausing every twenty steps to gouge the earth again. He hoped the effort would keep him warm, but after three or four miles, he had to slow to a walk. “You have to keep going, you lazy bum,” he chided himself while puffing heavy plumes of white vapor. “You can’t stop now.”
He glanced up and caught sight of Gabriel getting buffeted by the worsening weather. His verbal self-urging felt good, so he continued. “If Gabriel can keep going, I can, too. He’s old enough to be my grandfather, and he’s doing fine.” He slid down a grassy slope, then resumed a quick trot. “I gotta find the creep that’s causing all this. I owe it to Ashley to stop him. If she dies, I’ll …” He swallowed a lump in his throat and stayed quiet.
Finally, Gabriel landed in a clearing about fifty feet ahead. He stooped low and examined the path.
Walter hustled to join him. “What did you find?” he asked, trying to slow his breathing.
“They split up here.” Gabriel waved his finger across the muddied leaves. “It looks like they’re all going in different directions now.”
“Look for the biggest footprints. That should be Chazaq. If we follow him, maybe he’ll lead us to that Mardon guy.” Walter pointed his walking stick at one of the trails. “There’s the biggest one. You agree?”
Gabriel nodded. “Looks like Bigfoot’s heading toward the highway. I saw a road from the air. It’s about a mile away.”
Walter tapped his walking stick on the print. “If he walked on pavement, we won’t be able to follow him.”
“True, but there’s a huge power plant down the road at a waterfall. I’ll bet I know where he was heading.”
Walter grinned, in spite of his gloomy mood. “To find the biggest outlet and plug himself in?”
“That’s my guess.”
Walter pointed his stick again. “Then let’s go.”
“I’ll stay on the ground for a while,” Gabriel said. “I think our path is pretty much set.”
Walter leaned into the swirling breeze and followed the prints, Gabriel at his side. Now that he was soaked, the bitter wind chilled him to the bone, so he started jogging again, still pausing to scar the ground with his stick.
Gabriel nodded at the ground. “I’ve been wondering why you’re doing that.”
“A trick I learned from Ashley. Always leave a trail.”
“Good thinking. It sounds like you and she make a great team.”
As he jogged, Walter glanced at Gabriel. His thin jacket was plastered to his chest, and his lips had turned blue. “You must be freezing.”
“Yeah,” Gabriel replied through chattering teeth. “I’m pretty cold.”
“Now would be a good time for a Sahara treatment. Know what that is?”
“Sure do. I saw you get one after Ashley healed you during the flood.”
Walter squinted at him. “You were there?”
“Yep. I followed Bonnie around for years. I was sort of like her guardian angel, but I couldn’t do much to help her. I guess I was more like a ghost than an angel.”
Walter shivered harder than ever. “That creeps me out. I wonder if any ghosts are following me around.”
“You never know.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen stuff so weird, you’d never believe it.”
Walter grinned. “Try me.” He quickly shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not smart to trade creep-out stories with a guy who has dragon wings.”
Gabriel and Walter laughed together as they jogged on and on. After a few minutes, they arrived at the highway. As expected, the tracks disappeared, so they followed the road toward the power plant. Not a single car or truck came in sight as they hustled, making the going easier, but the bitter cold kept biting through their wet layers. Walter continued plunging the stick into the ground just beyond the edge of the pavement.
A half hour later, the entrance road to the plant came into sight. The remains of a fence gate, bent and torn, leaned against a power company pickup truck. Slowing his pace as he approached the guard’s gatehouse, Walter dropped the stick. The upper half of a man’s body protruded through the station’s broken window, hanging limply with his arms dangling near the ground.
Gabriel ran to him and felt his neck for a pulse. After a few seconds, he looked up at Walter, pain in his eyes. “He’s dead. Probably strangled. His throat looks like it’s been flattened.”
Walter lifted the guard’s limp hand and rubbed his thumb across his wedding ring. “I wonder if he had any kids,” he said sadly. He put his shoulder under the lanky man’s body and gently pushed him back inside the tiny room, careful to avoid the blood and jagged glass. As he seated the corpse on a stool and leaned him against the back wall, he spotted a coat and an umbrella within reach. Grabbing both, he pulled back out and showed them to Gabriel. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Dress as guards?” Gabriel asked. “Go into the plant in disguise?”
“That was my first thought, but I’ve seen too many bad movies where the good guy tried it. The script always made the bad guys too stupid to notice.” As he tapped the umbrella on the road, the faint sound of an alarm siren floated across the breeze. “I don’t think real life works that way.”
“You might as well wear it. At least it’ll keep you warm. I’d never be able to fit my wings inside.”
As cold rain continued to fall, Walter gazed down the service road leading to another broken gate. “You say the plant’s at a dam?”
“At the base of it, yeah.”
“It must be hydroelectric.” Walter pointed the umbrella at the gate. “If it’s like the one Professor Hamilton took our homeschool group to see, it’ll be pretty much automated—not many people around.”
Gabriel nodded. “A perfect choice for an energy-hungry giant who doesn’t want media attention.”
“Right.” Walter stripped off his wet jacket and slid his damp arms into the guard’s coat sleeves. The thick lining felt heavenly, and the bottom hem fell close to his knees, providing more warmth.
Gabriel touched the sword protruding from Walter’s coat. “I think this might make someone suspicious.”
“Yeah, but I might need it. At least the blade works on the giants, even if the beam doesn’t.”
“Try to hide it, then.” Gabriel pulled up Walter’s collar. “I’ll see if I can create a distraction from above. If Chazaq spots me, the better it’ll be for you.” After flapping a spray of droplets from his wings, he took to the air.
Walter popped open the umbrella and hustled down the service road, following the roar of water and the faint alarm horn. Soon, the main elevator came into view. Two more bodies lay near its door. As he stared at the wet corpses, his knees weakened. He drew Excalibur from its scabbard and strangled the hilt. Somehow he had to stop that murdering fiend, no matter what.
Finding a stairwell, he stepped over a broken door that had been torn from its hinges—obviously the path the Naphil took, since he was likely too big to fit into the elevator.
He closed the umbrella and left it near the door, then hustled down the metal stairs on tiptoes as the path wrapped around the central elevator shaft. The brick corridor walls blocked out the cloud-veiled sunlight, while battery-powered emergency lamps hanging at each landing provided only the barest illumination. The stairwell grew darker and darker as he descended, giving him the same doomed feeling he had while climbing down to Hades with Ashley.
Finally, he reached the bottom level and exited onto a dimly lit concrete floor at the base of the dam. With the alarm still blaring, he padded toward a bright glow in the distance, sidestepping to avoid three more dead bodies along the way. A sign near the top of a mammoth steel door warned of danger ahead in the turbine room, but a gaping hole in the metal proved that Chazaq hadn’t bothered to yield.
As the glow poured through the hole, Walter skulked through, stooping low and shielding his eyes. With light rain drizzling on his head, he quickly scanned his surroundings. The ceiling and roof had been torn away, exposing the workings of the electricity-producing core of the plant. His scan followed the turbine’s massive outer casing up to the generator. Chazaq stood at the very top where the transformer should have been, his arms extended and his fingers spread. Although his two thumbs stayed inactive, his ten fingers poured out white streaks of light in every direction, piercing the clouds above. Twin red lasers shot from his eyes and blended in with the electrical array.
Keeping a watch for Gabriel, Walter tiptoed ahead. With all the racket from the waterfall and the alarm, maybe Chazaq wouldn’t notice him. He spied a ladder leading toward the generator just below the giant’s level. All he had to do was climb it, breach the fence that guarded the top of the turbines, and scale the higher generator access ladder while avoiding all the electrical hazards. Once up there, he could slice through Chazaq’s legs and short circuit that demonic dynamo.
“Piece of cake,” he whispered to himself.
After throwing off his coat, he slid Excalibur back into its scabbard, hoisted his foot to the first rung, and boosted himself up. It only took a few seconds to get to the top of the turbine, then a few seconds more to climb the fence, but when he grabbed the rung of the final ladder, red beams fell across his body. He froze and looked up at the giant. Chazaq glared at him while keeping his hands pointed skyward.
“Where are you going, little boy?” the giant bellowed.
“I’m touring the power plant,” Walter replied, shouting over the din. “I thought I’d come and get a closer look.” He scrambled up the rungs and stood less than ten yards from the giant’s massive feet. The monster had swelled in size, so much so that Walter’s head barely reached past the giant’s thigh. As the electrical field pulsed, Walter’s hair stood on end, and his skin tingled.
The giant’s eyebrows arched. “I see who you are now, the warrior from the lands below. I thought you learned that your sword’s beam was useless against us.”
“But the blade works fine.” Walter pulled Excalibur from its sheath. “Ask your suddenly shorter friend about that.”
“If you dare to attack, you would be electrocuted before you could get in range. You are already endangering your life where you stand.”
Walter squinted at the giant’s brilliant glow. Was he telling the truth? Was it worth risking an attack? What was this power plant takeover all about anyway?
Trying to avoid suspicion, he let his eyes dart quickly to the skies. Gabriel was nowhere in sight. He cleared his throat and yelled up to the giant again. “Tell you what. Let’s say for the moment that I believe you—it’s too dangerous for me to attack. But it looks like you’re too busy to swat me like a fly. Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing, and I’ll be on my way?”
“You are such a fool! It is not because I cannot move that I have spared your life.” His glow suddenly brightened, creating an electric shock wave that blasted Walter off the generator and sent him flying. Gabriel swooped down and grabbed him right out of the air. Beating his wings madly, he settled both of them into a soft landing on the turbine room floor.
Walter stood on wobbly legs and picked up the guard’s coat. “Thanks. That was close.”
“Sorry I took so long.” Gabriel pushed Walter toward the exit. “Come on. I think I figured out what they’re up to.”