chapter 20
HEAVEN’S ALTAR
As soon as Elam and Naamah passed between the blue curtains of Heaven’s shield, the inner light seemed to fold them in. Elam’s eyes quickly adjusted, allowing him to lower the hand he had been using as a barrier against the glare.
Still holding Naamah’s hand, Elam stepped quietly across a hardwood floor in what appeared to be the library of a humble cottage. He picked up an old book at the top of one of the many stacks that lined the stone walls on both sides. “I thought everything was supposed to be covered with gold and filled with perfume,” he whispered. “This place is kind of cramped and stuffy.”
“I don’t know what Heaven is supposed to be like,” Naamah replied softly, “but I have never set foot in a holier place. I feel cleaner than I have ever felt in my life.”
Elam set the book down and turned back to their entryway. A gap in the wall revealed Dikaios and a bank of dark storm clouds behind him, billowing ever closer. The gap slowly narrowed until it disappeared, leaving a wall mural, a painting of a narrow gate trimmed with clinging vines that bore golden kiwi and purple grapes.
On the opposite wall, a small table and two benches sat next to a simple wooden door with an old-fashioned metal lift-latch. Elam set his hand on a lantern that rested in the middle of the table. “Still warm,” he said.
“A quiet place to study,” Naamah whispered. “The lord of this house might soon return.”
Elam lifted the latch and swung open the door. A tender, sweet aroma instantly met his nostrils as he stepped through. Inside, row after row of prayer benches lined the floor of a massive chamber, and hundreds, maybe thousands of people in white robes knelt at the benches, their knees resting on soft pillows and their hands folded on chest-high, wooden shelves. Most kept their eyes pointed toward the far end of the room. Their words hummed through the sanctuary, thousands of prayers blending into a lovely harmony.
Elam followed the forward gazes to a raised platform where a giant altar—a high table covered with a white cloth—seemed to preside over the worshippers. With purple tassels sweeping the floor, it had to measure at least five hundred feet from one end to the other.
Overarching the entire chamber, enormous white drapes stretched from beam to beam. Animated pictures covered each drape, moving images of people and scenery, all unfamiliar to Elam. The images were so clear and realistic, they looked like digital movies played on high-definition monitors, but it seemed that only a few of the people ever ventured a glance at the action taking place overhead.
Elam took a step toward the closest kneeler. A colorful hologram floated in front of her. The three-dimensional image showed a young woman crying on her bed, blood pouring from her slashed throat. With her gaze locked on the scene, the kneeler’s lips moved in prayer while tears dripped on her folded hands.
Clutching Elam’s arm, Naamah drew close. “Is this a church?” she asked. “I have never been in one.”
“Not exactly,” another voice replied.
As a strong hand clasped Elam’s shoulder, he turned around to find a tall, elderly man smiling at him. “I’m glad you could make it,” the man said.
At first, Elam didn’t recognize him, but as shrouded images of the past filtered through his mind, the man’s name pushed to the forefront. He nodded reverently. “Master Enoch. I am blessed to see you.” He wrinkled his brow. “But how did I know it was you? I’ve only seen you in the Ovulum, and you were more like a red ghost than a man.”
Enoch extended his arm and waved it across the praying masses. “You will learn that you know everyone here, even if you have never seen them before. To return to Naamah’s question, this is not a church; it is the martyrs’ prayer room. They rest here praying for servants of God who are in danger of dying for their faith, even as they have died.”
Naamah pointed at one of the holograms. “They pray for the people when they appear in front of them?”
“And they can also request to see and pray for whomever they wish.”
Elam watched another image, a hooded man lying on the ground with another man poised over him with a machete. Elam’s heart raced. He wanted to see the outcome, but he couldn’t bear to watch. As the machete approached the victim’s bare throat, Elam swung his head back to Enoch. “Do you join them in prayer, Master Enoch?”
“Although I join them from time to time, I am not a martyr. In fact, like you, I never died, so I am able to take on other assignments in addition to prayer. I have my own room and a special viewing screen that gives me a portal to other worlds. I spoke through the Ovulum from there, and I am able to project my image or my voice wherever I wish. Often, those who see or hear me assume I am a ghost.”
“So, do you have to stay here on this side of Heaven’s shield?”
“Who would ever want to leave Heaven?” Enoch smiled, lifting his white mustache toward his deep brown eyes. “But you have a point. At times I have wanted to help the people I see on Earth, so God granted my special quarters to me, and I have been able to accomplish much there.” He raised three fingers. “There were three recent occasions, however, when I was allowed to visit Earth in bodily form, but those opportunities are short-lived and rare. Fortunately, I was able to visit Ashley during her time of great need in a strange spiral staircase, though she had no idea who I really was.”
“This is all so amazing!” Elam scanned the room, searching for Acacia. It didn’t take long to find her—a girl with white locks trickling down over her folded hands as she watched the hologram in front of her. Unlike all the martyrs dressed in white, Acacia wore a dazzling blue cloak. Its cape spread over her kneeling bench like a royal robe, and the hood shadowed most of her lovely young face.
Enoch laughed gently and extended his arm toward the prayer bench. “You may go to her. This is a place of freedom, for all are holy. I will stay with Naamah. She and I have a few things to discuss.”
After scurrying down an aisle between two long benches, Elam stopped behind Acacia and crouched, wondering if he should interrupt her prayer. Her hologram showed a girl with scaly-looking skin standing on a village road and looking at a hand-held telescope. Acacia reached into the hologram and touched the girl as though she were caressing a beloved sister.
“That’s Enoch’s spyglass,” Elam said. “I lost it at the chasm. How did she get it?”
A little brown-haired girl kneeling beside Acacia wheeled around. “Elam?”
Elam smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Paili.”
Paili leaped into his arms. Acacia spun toward them, her blue eyes sparkling. Staying on her knees, she scooted over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so glad you made it! I’ve been watching and praying for you!”
Elam nodded at the hologram. “I see the girl. What’s going on?”
Acacia stood and took Elam’s hand. “Come. Father Enoch can explain it better than I can.” He and Paili followed Acacia back to Enoch, but Naamah was no longer with him.
Elam searched the area for her. “Where’s”
“Shhh!” Enoch laid a finger over his lips and nodded toward Paili.
“Oh. Okay.” Elam glanced at Paili. She seemed bewildered, but her smile never dimmed.
“Come,” Enoch said, gesturing toward the anteroom. “I will explain our situation in here. Although the anthem of praying saints is always beautiful music, we should seek solitude and a better place to converse.”
When all four had entered the library, Enoch closed the door, and everyone took a seat at the table, Enoch and Elam on the bench on one side, and Acacia and Paili on the other. Folding his hands next to a large, weather-worn book, Enoch smiled at Acacia. “I think a little more light is in order.”
Acacia pointed at the lantern. “Ignite,” she whispered.
When the wick caught fire, Paili grinned. “Someday, I’m going to learn how to do that.”
As the flaming tongue rose into the lantern’s glass, Enoch fixed his gaze on Elam. Yellow light bathed his face, casting shadows across wrinkle lines radiating from his deeply set eyes. “Many questions swirl in your mind,” he said. “Would you like to ask some of them to settle your thoughts?”
“Okay …” Elam rolled his eyes upward for a moment, and when the first question popped into his mind, he leaned close to Enoch and whispered. “Can I ask about Paili?”
“Certainly.” Enoch patted her hand. “She has heard her own story countless times.”
“Well, how did she get cured? And why is she a child again?”
“That is a long tale,” Enoch replied, “so I will give you a shortened version. First, she and Acacia went on a very long journey through the grasslands of the second circle as well as Molech’s forest.”
“Me, too, but they must have had it worse. That would be awful, especially since her ankle was injured.”
Enoch slipped his hand into Paili’s. “Joseph was there to guide them and fend off the Caitiff, but, indeed, the journey was treacherous. In any case, after the gatekeeper allowed them into the Bridgelands, they crossed the bridge. As you might expect from your own experiences, that was quite a harrowing passage. I met them at this end of the chasm with a mash I concocted from the fruit of the tree of life. After much effort, we managed to get Paili to swallow it. As I predicted, the fruit revived her and brought complete healing, but she also shrank and reverted to her younger self, the same apparent age she was decades ago when Sapphira took her to her adoptive home. Although we have told her the stories of her history as a wife and mother, she remembers none of it. I have a theory as to why she regressed, but since it is pure speculation, there is no need to air it here.”
Elam let out a low whistle. “I can’t imagine carrying someone over that chasm! I had to crawl just to survive!”
“I know,” Enoch said. “I watched you.”
After a few more seconds of thought, Elam tapped his finger on the table. “Okay. Here’s my next question. Merlin sang one of your prophecies that sounds like I’m supposed to take Acacia back to Earth. Is that true?” His voice grew more excited, and questions shot out in rapid-fire succession. “And if I take Acacia back, is Paili supposed to come? Will she still be healed there? And what about leading the martyrs to holy war? What’s that all about?”
Enoch laughed and waved for Elam to calm down. “So many questions! I would have to write them all down!”
Leaning toward Elam, Acacia whispered, “Ask Father Enoch to sing the prophecy. I’ve never heard it.”
Still laughing, Enoch pointed at Acacia. “But I heard you!”
Her brow lifted, and she gave him a sad, puppy-dog look. “Would you sing it? Please?”
Enoch’s smile faded, but his eyes still twinkled. “I will sing the parts that pertain to you, fair one, but I think Elam needs no reminders.” Clearing his throat, the old prophet stared at the lantern, humming for a moment before beginning his song.
The tree that bears the ark of God
Has flown to Heaven’s narrow gate
To purge the serpent’s fatal bite,
The fruit of Morgan’s wicked hate.
The lantern’s flame bent and twisted with every word, as if portraying the passion Enoch felt as he sang.
A path of light will lead the way,
A path the tree will soon ignite,
A path of sorrows, pain, and death,
A path to guide the mourning knight.
Sapphira bends, but will she break?
Depends on Elam’s safe return.
For if he fails to bring the ark,
Her life is chaff and soon will burn.
When the last note died away, Elam folded his hands and sighed. “That was beautiful. And I thought Merlin sang it well.”
With his head angled downward, Enoch glanced at Elam and gave him a sad sort of smile. “You are too kind.”
Elam pressed his thumbs together. “The part I didn’t understand at all was the path. What’s that about?”
“Ever since Acacia arrived,” Enoch said, “she has ministered to another realm through a portal that she maintains, but a time will soon come when she must illuminate that path for a tragic, but necessary, reason. And I suspect that you will be present to witness it.” He opened the old book to a page near the end. “You may show him the chosen one, Acacia.”
Acacia’s countenance fell, and her solemn voice matched her sudden change in mood. “Your wish is my will, Father Enoch.” As she rubbed her hands together over the book, a column of fire arose from the pages. She separated her hands, allowing the column to rise between her palms, and as she continued to draw her hands apart, the fire spread out into a thin oval. The flames scattered to the rim of the oval, revealing a face within the ring, a girl with a scaly pattern in her skin, the same girl who appeared in her prayer hologram. While keeping her hands in place at the sides of the oval, Acacia’s eyes glistened with tears.
“Acacia has spoken to this girl,” Enoch said to Elam, “and they both know what they must do to create your path into this other world where you will enter as its warrior chief. You will learn about your new role there soon enough, so I think I will tell you no more about that for now.”
Acacia brought her hands together, compressing the image until it vanished. The flames dwindled and fell back into the page in a puff of smoke.
As Enoch closed the book, Elam drew an oval on the table with his finger. The girl seemed so forlorn, like a lost soul searching for help. But he couldn’t dwell on it, not with Enoch stonewalling that topic. There were too many questions still remaining. “What about taking Acacia back to Earth?” he asked.
Enoch slid the book to the side. “As you have apparently guessed, Acacia is the tree that bears the ark of God, and Paili is that ark, but I perceive that we have run out of time for questions, so the answers to all other questions and riddles will have to wait until your first mission is complete.”
“My first mission?”
“A great danger threatens this realm.” Enoch nodded toward the gated garden painted on the opposite wall. “Beyond that shield, Mardon is in the process of pulling down the gates of Heaven in order to ascend to the throne of God as a mediator. If we don’t stop him, he could very well succeed in dissolving the barrier between Heaven and Earth.”
“Merlin told me about that.” Elam folded his hands on the table. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since. How can any man endanger God?” As the lantern’s flame flashed brighter, he raised a clenched fist. “Why doesn’t God just crush him?”
Enoch waved a hand of dismissal. “God is in no danger. It is the created order that is threatened. If Mardon succeeds, God is quite capable of cleaning up the mess, but since Mardon is using the physical universe as it was created, God prefers to battle his enemy by employing his faithful servants. In other words, he wishes to use one part of his creation to save the rest.” He set his finger on the book. “The girl Acacia showed you will provide a weapon we can use to fight against Mardon, and you will be an integral part of the battle.”
As Elam uncurled his fingers, the lantern’s flame settled. “What do you want me to do?”
“You must go back through the shield to the Bridgelands where you will find Dikaios and your other traveling partner. Once there, you must gather soldiers, ten wandering souls who wish to prove their worth, and bring them to the shield. When you return, Acacia and I will meet you, and I will give you further instructions.”
“You want ten souls?” Elam asked, opening both hands to display his fingers. “Exactly ten?”
Enoch nodded. “Why do you act so surprised?”
“It’s just that I already know where to find them. There are ten gentlemen who are hoping to get into Heaven, but they got lost somehow.”
Enoch raised a finger and pressed it against his temple. “Take care that your enthusiasm does not overwhelm your discernment. We can hope for the deliverance of others, but the final barrier between them and this altar ultimately dwells in their own minds. And if they have died on Earth, their fate has already been decided.”
Elam processed Enoch’s mysterious comment but decided not to ask its meaning. The task at hand was too pressing. “So, do I go now? That storm was already getting close when I was last out there.”
Enoch pointed at the mural. “Simply walk through it, and you will be on your way.”
Elam took Acacia’s hand and kissed it, then Paili’s. “God willing, I will return.” He rose and walked right into the wall. For a moment, the brilliant light blinded him again, but it faded away as the familiar Bridgelands reappeared.
Naamah stood next to Dikaios, her hair wrapping around her neck as the winds whipped across her face. She ran forward and hugged Elam. “I thought you might not come for me. When Enoch sent me away, I feared that I had been rejected from our father’s house.”
“He didn’t tell me why exactly,” Elam said, patting Naamah’s back, “but I think it’s because of Paili. She’s still alive as a little girl, so her memories of how you treated her in the mines would probably scare her if she saw you again.”
“I see.” Naamah backed away and folded her hands in front of her. “My past sins are still a chain around my neck.”
“Give it time,” Elam said. “She’s a special case.”
Naamah bowed her head. “As much as she needs.”
“Dikaios!” Elam shouted through the breeze. “We have to go back to the Skotos Woods. Enoch wants me to collect ten wanderers and bring them here.”
The horse plodded to his side. “I can carry you and Naamah, but the ten will have to find other transport.”
Elam set his hand above his eyes and scanned the horizon. “What’s available around here? Can we find a carriage of some kind? More horses?”
“I know of other horses, but it would take hours to get to their grazing lands.”
“Hours,” Elam repeated. “We don’t have hours.” He stared at the gathering clouds. The stiff breeze dried out his eyes, and weariness flooded his bones, but he couldn’t rest, not now, not when the storm was about to strike.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement in the field. A line of ragged men marched across the grasslands, Zane leading them. The last man in the procession grasped the shoulder of the man in front of him. As they closed in, they picked up their pace.
“Do you see what I see?” Elam asked Dikaios.
“Indeed. It seems that our nomadic soldiers have wandered right into our troop.”
Elam crossed his arms over his chest. “But I told them to build a fire and wait. Could it have gone out so soon?”
“I suspect they built no fire at all,” Dikaios said. “They have come a very long way, so they would have had to begin their journey as soon as we left the forest.”
Naamah moved behind Elam and peeked around his side. “I think I recognize one of them. The last man in the line could be one of the men who tried to take advantage of me.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Elam shielded his eyes again. “He’s hanging on to the guy in front of him like he’s blind.”
When they came within earshot, Zane shouted gleefully, “We made it!”
As they drew closer, Naamah squeezed Elam’s arm. “He is one of my attackers,” she whispered. “I am sure of it! His name is Dawson.”
All ten men quickly gathered around, the last one still grasping his guide. “You were difficult to follow,” Zane continued, “but the horse’s distinctive prints always put us back on your trail. When we reached a rockier path, we lost track, but I saw the lady in red waving for us to ascend a ridge. When we arrived, she was gone, but from that vantage point we could see you standing here.”
Elam pointed a stiff finger at him. “I told you to build a fire and wait for me!”
“Well,” Zane said, his smile unabated, “were you planning to come back soon and bring us here?”
“Yes. We were just leaving.”
Zane spread out his hands and laughed. “Then we have arrived with the same result, only sooner. It seems that the lady in red has blessed us with another providential shortcut.”
Elam stared at Zane, taking in his good-natured smile. He seemed so childlike, too excited to do what he was told. Maybe he was just desperate. Wouldn’t anyone be desperate after all he’d been through? But what about his followers? At least one of them wasn’t an innocent wanderer.
Elam touched the blind man’s shoulder. “Naamah says this man attacked her.”
The man stepped forward, his eyes wandering as he wrung his hands. “If Naamah is the beautiful lady I met in the forest, then, yes, it is true. When I saw her lovely form, the desires of my flesh overtook my senses, and I couldn’t help myself.” He blinked rapidly. “As you can see, God has chastised me for my sin, and I am deeply sorry.”
Zane lowered his head. “It is sad that Dawson’s sins were so vile and offensive, but, as you heard for yourself, he has repented. We are grateful that God looks upon our faith and not our evil deeds, so our eternal destiny is secure.”
Pawing at the ground, Dikaios blew a flapping sound through his lips. “Your destiny is certainly secure.”
Zane glared at Dikaios for a moment, but his cheery disposition quickly returned. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. May we enter now?”
Elam glanced at Dikaios, but the horse swung his head away. Apparently, he had gone back to his “you-have-to-decide-for-yourself” mode. Elam sidestepped toward the blue wall. “I’ll show you how I got in.”
Naamah followed and ducked behind him, whispering. “Has God forgiven my attacker?”
He whispered back, “I think we’ll soon find out.” Naamah gave him a grim stare but said nothing.
“All I did,” Elam continued, lifting his hand, “was lay my palm on Heaven’s shield, and it covered me with the white clothes I’m wearing. Then it opened up and let me in.”
Zane marched up to the wall. “Just as we expected all along. The scarlet key is simply our faith.” He pressed his hand against the shield. In a splash of blue sparks, the wall threw him backwards. After rolling through the grass, he jumped to his feet and blew on his hand. “It feels like it’s on fire!”
Elam ran to him. “It’s blistered pretty badly,” he said, examining Zane’s burn. Thin streaks of dirt traced the fold lines in his skin, but no blood stained his palm. “There’s a pool not far from here if you want to soak it.”
“I can tolerate the physical pain.” Zane blew on his hand again. “But the stress of not being able to enter Heaven is torture I cannot endure.”
Elam patted him on the back. “There might still be a chance. I was told to find ten soldiers for an important mission. Maybe if you can accomplish it, you’ll be able to get in.”
Zane lowered his hand and glanced at his nine followers. “I am sure I speak for us all. We are troubled by these hoops we must jump through, but we are willing to do whatever it takes.”
“Wait here,” Elam said. “I have to check with Enoch to make sure it’s okay for you to do the job he has in mind.”
As he turned back to the wall, a robed arm and leg protruded from it, then the rest of Enoch’s body popped through. Acacia followed, her blue hood down and her white hair flowing in the stormy wind.
Elam stepped back and gave each a head nod. When he smiled at Acacia, her return smile seemed forced, and her eyes were dimmer than usual.
“I was just coming in to see you,” Elam said.
“Yes, I know. I watched you on my screen.” Enoch glared at the ten men. “So these are the soldiers you have chosen?”
Elam shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I guess so. One of them is blind because of his own doing, but they’re all I have.”
With the breeze whipping his robe, Enoch walked slowly in front of each man, gazing into their eyes. When he reached Zane, he stared at the bespectacled leader long and hard. “Perhaps they are all blind,” Enoch muttered.
“But I am not blind.” Zane lowered himself to one knee and looked up at Enoch. “We are mere men, leaders of flocks of the faithful on the Earth, and we have journeyed through this land wondering why we have not been able to reach Heaven. Even now at the very gate of entry, it seems that we are unable to enter, so we are willing to do whatever we must.”
“We shall see.” Enoch gestured for him to rise and continued walking down the line of men until he reached the final one. Looking toward Heaven’s shield he cried out, “Will ten blind or nearsighted men be able to accomplish this task?”
“Do you want me to send them away?” Elam asked. “I didn’t know one of them attacked Naamah until they showed up.”
Enoch waved his hand at Elam. “I was asking God, not you.” He gazed at them from head to toe, then looked at Naamah, who tried to hide behind Elam. “We will let them stay. The word from on high is that they will serve God’s ultimate purpose.”
Zane clapped one of his followers on the back. “Excellent!”
“Father Enoch?” Acacia laid a hand on the prophet’s elbow, her face streaked with pain. “Now that the participants have been approved, is the timing right for me to begin?”
“Yes, dear child.” Enoch took her hand and patted the top. “I know how tragically dangerous and difficult your task will be. After all, the chosen one is a hybrid, much like yourself, yet thrown away before her birth. Still, every great sacrifice requires great suffering, and I know you will be able to carry out what you have been called to do.”
Acacia walked to Heaven’s shield and set her back against it. As she stretched her arms forward, fire erupted in her upturned hands, two egg-shaped flames that sat in the center of her palms. Her lips thinning out and tears sparkling in her brilliant eyes, she looked at Enoch. “I await your signal, Father.”
Your dragon powers are gone?” Sapphira caressed Ashley’s hands. “Are you sure?”
Ashley nodded slowly. “I can’t even remember the quadratic formula, and I feel sick to my stomach. I can usually make nausea go away in a few seconds, but I can’t do it now.”
Sapphira covered her eyes with her hand. “I feel it again.”
“Feel what again?”
Blue light leaked between her fingers. “Remember when I looked inside you and saw a dragon?”
“Uh-huh. You scared me so bad, I was ready to slap you.”
“I’m so sorry!” Sapphira closed the gaps between her fingers. “I think it will stop soon.”
Ashley wrapped her fingers gently around Sapphira’s wrist. “It’s okay. I want to know what you see now.” She slid Sapphira’s hand away from her face.
Blue beams emanated from her eyes and spilled over Ashley, covering her in a blanket of azure light. Sapphira wheezed, breathing frantically. “I really don’t like doing this. I don’t like peeking at someone’s soul. I have no right to do that.”
“You have my permission.” Ashley slid into the center of the light. “Tell me what you see.”
After a few seconds, the beams dimmed and blinked out. Sapphira closed her eyes and wept.
Ashley took her hand. “What’s wrong? Did you see someone worse than a dragon inside me?”
“That’s not the problem.” Sapphira shook her head hard.
Ashley lifted Sapphira’s chin. “Can you tell me what you saw?”
Wiping a tear, Sapphira leaned close and whispered, “The dragon’s gone.”
Ashley firmed her lips and nodded. “That’s no surprise, I guess, since the traits are gone.”
“But there was nothing there.” Sapphira spread out her hands. “Nothing at all. No dragon and no angel.”
Ashley winced at Sapphira’s words but couldn’t raise her voice above a whisper. “I’m just an empty shell?”
Sapphira shook her head. “Don’t say that. It can’t be true.”
“But it is true. I feel the void, like my whole body is about to collapse.” Ashley wrapped her arms weakly around herself. “I’m nothing inside. Nothing at all.”
A loud clatter sounded from beyond the exit door. Ashley sat up straight. “What was that?”
“It came from where Walter and Karen went.” Sapphira pushed her shoulder under Ashley’s arm. “Lean on me, and we’ll find out together.”