chapter 21
THE CALL OF THE CROSS
A pulse! Thank God!” Karen took off her jacket and covered Gabriel’s head with the hood. With cold drizzle now pecking through her hair, she watched the battle, praying for Walter with all her might. What else could she do? She felt useless, too weak and small to make a difference.
With one hand covering his wounded eye, Chazaq stomped toward Walter, reaching for the young man’s head. Walter leaped out of the way and charged toward the giant’s blind side, raising Excalibur in attack position.
Spinning quickly, Chazaq dodged. Walter’s feet slipped out from under him, and Excalibur flew from his grip, clattering to the stone as he slid past Chazaq’s legs.
The giant leaped in the direction of the sword, but Walter caught the toe of Chazaq’s oversized boot, tripping him and sending him toppling to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, Walter dove for Excalibur, snatched it off the ground, rolled away from the giant, then sprawled on the wet concrete, groaning.
Karen pressed her hands together. “Walter!” she shouted. “You can do it! I know you can do it!”
Walter pushed against the ground and rose slowly, nodding at Karen. “Thanks,” he gasped. “I’m glad someone thinks so.”
Ashley shuffled into the turbine room, her arm over Sapphira’s shoulders.
“Ashley!” Walter raised his hand, still breathless. “Stand back! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” He turned again and faced Chazaq, who had just climbed back to his feet.
Karen waved Ashley and Sapphira to the concrete pillar. When they huddled together on their knees, she whispered. “Gabriel’s unconscious.”
The three girls made a tent over Gabriel with Karen’s jacket. “Walter’s supposed to be distracting the giants while Roxil sneaks up on the one on the turbine,” Karen said, “but I thought she would have attacked him by now.” She pointed toward the covered portion of the turbine room. “Mardon’s watching from over there. He’s not so confident anymore.”
Uncovering his bleeding eye, Chazaq raised a fist and roared. “I am going to grind you into dust!”
“Why don’t you add a ‘Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum’ to that?” Walter shouted. “Then I’ll really be scared!”
“What’s Walter doing?” Karen asked. “Is he crazy?”
“He’s taunting the giant,” Ashley explained. “Anger in battle is a handicap, so Walter’s trying to get him to do something stupid.”
Chazaq dove at Walter in a flying rage. Leaping out of the way, Walter hacked at the giant’s outstretched arm and sliced his wrist, drawing a new stream of blood. Chazaq grasped his wound and kicked at Walter, but he leaped away again, this time narrowly missing the giant’s ankle with another swipe of his sword.
“Chazaq!” Mardon shouted from the turbine room exit. “Don’t be such a fool! Remember what I taught you. A warrior has a will of iron. He cannot be seduced by a cunning opponent. Your pride in your brawn will be your downfall if you don’t change your tactics. Use your gifts, not your anger.”
Growling deeply, Chazaq lifted a hand toward the sky. As though he were a lightning rod, energy from the other giant’s beams streamed into Chazaq’s arm, making his hair stand on end. He extended a thick finger on his other hand. A jagged yellow bolt shot out and sizzled into Walter’s chest.
Walter flew backwards and slammed into a pillar, smacking his head against the concrete. Slumping to the side, he exhaled and his arms fell limply to the floor.
“Walter!” Karen screamed.
Ashley tried to get up, but Sapphira grabbed her arm. “No! Neither of you can do anything to help.”
“But I have to,” Ashley wheezed, trying to wiggle loose. “He’s my friend. He’s my … my best friend.”
“Get the sword,” Mardon ordered, walking into the open area. “Then kill him.”
Karen shook free and bolted from the pillar.
“Karen!” Ashley shouted. “No!”
Dashing into the battle zone with her head ducked low, Karen sprinted toward Walter. When Chazaq reached for Excalibur, she zipped past him and scooped it up as she ran. She straddled Walter, pointing the heavy blade at the huge, looming giant and screamed, “Get back, you creep!”
“She is mine!” the giant atop the generator shouted. “She is my prize!”
Covering his wounded eye again, Chazaq scowled at him. “Bagowd! Did you bargain for this puny wench?”
“There was no risk. I knew you would squash the runt.”
Ashley struggled to get up, but Sapphira pushed her down and sprinted to Karen, sliding to a stop between her and Chazaq. Using both hands, she shoved Chazaq’s thighs, but he barely moved an inch.
Chazaq laughed. “The little men are vanquished, and now the little women come to their rescue.”
Sapphira raised her hands. Fire leaped from her palms and formed into balls of flame. “You absorb light energy, Chazaq, but I wager that you’re still flammable. Want to test my theory?”
With a powerful swipe, Chazaq slapped her wrists, extinguishing her flames and knocking her to the side. Karen lunged and swung the sword at the giant’s arm, missing badly. The momentum of her follow-through spun her around, nearly pulling her to the floor.
Chazaq grabbed a fistful of Karen’s hair and dragged her toward the generator. Screaming, she kicked and tried to slash her captor with the sword, but to no avail. Suddenly, a stream of fire rocketed into Chazaq’s face. Roxil swooped down on his blind side and slammed into his body, knocking him flat. As she swept back up, she roared. “Run! We must hit the other giant while we can!”
Chazaq, his face and beard sizzling, lay motionless on the ground. Mardon was nowhere in sight.
Dropping Excalibur, Karen leaped to her feet and darted back to Walter. Sapphira was already lifting his ankles. “Grab his wrists!” she yelled. “Let’s get him under the roof.” Struggling side by side, they half carried, half dragged him to the covered section of the turbine room. After laying him down, Sapphira pressed her ear on his chest. “He’s alive, but he’s barely breathing.”
“Ashley will heal him.” Trying to smile, Karen swiped back her dampened bangs. “I know she will.”
“But Ashley lost” Sapphira cut her words short.
Karen pulled on Sapphira’s sleeve. “Come on! Let’s get Ashley over here.” Sapphira gave in to Karen’s frantic pull, and they hurried back to the column.
When they arrived, Ashley’s face was almost as white as Sapphira’s hair as she rested her hand on Gabriel’s chest. “He’s breathing steadily now. I tried to get up to help you, but I just couldn’t.”
Karen pulled on Ashley’s arm. “You have to come and heal Walter now.”
Ashley jerked back. “I can’t. I just”
“Look!” Sapphira said, pointing.
Karen and Ashley tipped their heads up. Roxil blew a torrent of flames at Bagowd. As the tongues of fire penetrated his surrounding energy field, they fizzled into plumes of smoke. Two other dragons joined her, and all three spewed a barrage of yellow and orange jets.
“It’s Arramos and my mother,” Ashley said. “They’re all working together!”
“Come on!” Karen pulled on her arm again. “Walter needs help!”
Ashley slid away. “I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I want to … but I just can’t.”
“Why not? He’s hurt really badly. I’ll help you walk over there. I’ll carry you if I have to.”
“I can’t!” Ashley buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “Please stop asking me. Please!”
Sapphira touched Karen’s arm. “Ashley’s too weak. Besides, there’s no energy available. We need Excalibur’s beam, and Walter’s the only one who knows how to use it.”
Tears blurred Karen’s vision as she stroked Ashley’s hair. “How about Ashley’s mom? She has fire for energy. And she’s a healer, so she could do it herself.”
“She’s busy trying to save the world.” Sapphira wiped a tear from Karen’s cheek. “We couldn’t get her down here if we wanted to, and even if she could do it without Excalibur, we would need another dragon to heat her scales. We can’t leave only one dragon up there to battle the giant. It won’t be enough.”
As the trio of dragons joined their flames, they flew in a tight circle, and the fire streams shot deeper into the Naphil’s protective shield.
“They’re making a firestorm,” Sapphira said. “Do we want that to happen? What about the vortex?”
Ashley lowered her hands. Blood from her palms smeared the tear tracks on her cheeks. “I think that’s exactly what Mardon wants. Arramos probably kept my mother away until this moment, and he convinced her and Roxil that this is the only way to stop Mardon.”
Sapphira used her sleeve to wipe some of the blood from Ashley’s face. “It probably wasn’t hard to convince them, since that’s what they did to the first tower. But you said you figured out how we can stop him.”
“It’s only a maybe, but I can’t remember the probabilities.” Ashley hooked her finger around Sapphira’s collar and drew her close. “You have to do it yourself.”
Sapphira pulled back. “Me? But how?”
“I analyzed your light when you flamed up at Mardon. I remember thinking that the balance of frequencies was perfect.”
“Perfect for what?”
Ashley opened her hand, exposing her wound. “To pierce the electromagnetic field the giants are creating. All it takes is a big enough interruption in the field, and it will collapse. Mardon’s code, the one that was supposed to wake up the giants, was really a set of photometer readings, light intensities for seven different wavelengths. It looks like he matched the light waves that would shock the giants into wakefulness with the light that your fire creates. I guess he wanted to give you the ability to wake them if you needed to, but he never had the chance to tell you.”
Sapphira’s voice lowered to a whisper. “The other laborers and I were hiding from him. I didn’t want him to find us.”
“So he must have given up the idea and jotted it down so he could remember it himself if he needed it.” Closing her eyes, Ashley ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t remember how I came up with it, but I think your fire light will interfere with their ability to store and produce power.”
“Okay.” Exhaling loud and long, Sapphira glanced at Walter, Gabriel, and Karen in turn. “What do I do?”
Ashley leaned toward her. “It’s extremely dangerous, but you have to get close to the giant and make your light source penetrate his shield.”
“Okay. How close? How much fire?”
“I’m not sure. Just get as close as you can and see what happens.” Ashley touched Sapphira’s fingers. “How much flame can you produce from your hands?”
“I can set my whole body on fire and make a pretty big cyclone.”
“Good. Make the biggest inferno ever, but don’t spin the flames. We don’t want to help the dragons break down the dimensional barrier.”
Karen tugged on Ashley’s sleeve. “What about Walter?”
Ashley laid her fingers on Karen’s cheeks. “The only way to save him is to get my mother down here. We can’t do that until Sapphira destroys the field.” She drew Karen close, almost nose to nose. “Do you understand?”
She sniffed and nodded. “I understand.”
Ashley pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered into her ear. “I love him, too, Karen. But you know he would want us to save the world before we save him, right?” Ashley pushed her back and gazed into her eyes. “So we have to stop the giant. That’s the most important thing to do right now.”
“You’re right.” Karen straightened and trudged over the rain-slicked floor. “I’ll get Excalibur.”
After picking up the sword, she passed by the unconscious Chazaq. Shuffling up to his body, she lifted the blade and poised it over his neck. Her heart raced. It would be so easy to slice the scoundrel’s throat. So easy. She let the edge scratch his skin. A trickle of blood ran down and dripped into a puddle. She gazed at his swollen face, blackened from Roxil’s fiery jets. Would Walter do it? she wondered. Would he get rid of this beast once and for all? She shook her head. He wouldn’t. He always said you have to meet an enemy face-to-face. Killing someone when he’s down is the coward’s way out.
She hiked the sword up to her shoulder and hustled back. Sapphira now stood at the ladder that led up the turbine’s exterior wall, while Ashley, looking pallid and limp, remained at the pillar with Gabriel.
The three dragons sprayed the giant’s electric shield with fire, enveloping him in a flaming cocoon. As they flew closer, still shooting yellow streams, they used their wings to whip the fire into a frenzy as they zoomed around and around.
“No!” Sapphira yelled. “Don’t create the vortex! That’s what Mardon wants!”
The dragons continued their barrage. Either they didn’t hear Sapphira’s call, or they didn’t believe her.
Sapphira climbed the ladder, speedily passing rung after rung. When she reached the fence, she scaled it quickly and hopped onto the roof of the generator. One more short ladder to go.
Karen followed, dragging Excalibur with her as she stepped up the rungs. She couldn’t let Sapphira battle that hideous monster by herself. He made her look like a little white mouse.
After reaching the top rung, Karen stared up at Sapphira. With her hands raised and already flaming, she closed in on the pulsing electric field, the giant’s surrounding glow.
Karen heaved the sword up to her shoulder and looked down at Gabriel and Walter, both unconscious. Firming her jaw, she tightened her grip on the hilt. The guys gave it everything they had. Now it was up to the girls.
Enoch joined Acacia at the shield. “Create the tunnel and hold it in place. We will add the fire and move you into position when the king returns with the sacrifice.”
Acacia swirled her hands in front of her as if painting the air with her fiery palms. A shining orange oval emerged at the center of her swirl and grew to twice her height and width. As she slowed her hands, the oval stopped growing and hovered over the ground. Still visible through the semitransparent screen, Acacia looked at Enoch, her expression growing even gloomier. “The tunnel is ready, Father.”
While Elam, Naamah, and the ten wanderers gathered to watch the hypnotizing aura, Enoch bent over and peered through the light from Acacia’s side of the oval. “I’m not sure when the sacrifice will arrive. Can you hold it in place?”
As the swirling light pulsed, Acacia kept her hands moving in small circles. “For a while. It isn’t hard.”
“As you know, it will get harder.” Enoch began pacing in front of the audience. “The storm clouds gathering overhead are the fingers of Earth reaching into this realm. As they grow, they will dissolve the Bridgelands, the dimensional barrier between Heaven and Earth, and bring the eternal kingdom into mankind’s reach. Although such a result might sound appealing, you cannot imagine the catastrophe that would occur if the corrupt meets the holy.”
He raised his finger toward the sky, still pacing. “If the passage between the two realms opens, it will seem as though an entire world is closing in on us. Some kind of energy-based connection will be made between Earth and Heaven’s shield, a path between the two worlds that must be destroyed. Our weapon will be our own energy surge from Acacia’s portal that should break the connection.”
Enoch halted and nodded at Zane. “You and your fellows must stand in the path coming from Earth. Your goal is to keep the energy flow from striking Acacia when she moves into position to unleash our weapon.”
Zane bowed his head. “We will be honored.”
Joining Zane at his side, Elam clenched his fist. “We’ll make sure we block it. You can count on us.”
“Not you, my son. Not yet.” Enoch curled his finger, gesturing for Elam to come closer. “If you were to walk into a cross-dimensional path without protection, it could easily kill you. Zane and his followers are already dead, and the bodies they have now should not be affected by the connecting path.”
Elam ground his teeth together. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Leaning close, he whispered, “What do we do if they can’t block the flow? I don’t have enough confidence in them to risk Acacia’s life. Since she’s still alive, wouldn’t the path hurt her, too?”
“Acacia is the only one who can accomplish her task,” Enoch whispered back, “and she is aware of the risk. So, the connection beam must be broken at all costs. Otherwise, millions on the Earth could die.”
“But if Zane and his men fail, is there any other option?”
Enoch glanced at the ten men once more before answering. “There is another option, a short prophecy I received last night, but I hope we don’t have to face it.” Drawing Elam even closer, Enoch sang quietly into his ear.
Son of man, O son of mine,
Your land has need of cleansing rain.
Conspiring teachers weave their lies
To make the holy foul, profane.
Art thou a son or just a hire?
Go stand before your land of sin
To stay my angels’ swords of fire
And fill the gap from deep within.
Enoch pushed Elam back and laid a palm across his cheek. “Do you understand, Elam, my son?”
“Yes, Father Enoch.” Elam let out a long sigh. “I think I do.”
As daylight faded, Abraham and Timothy strolled along the road that led to the birthing garden. With the people of the village settling down for their evening meal, the two men had no need to assume the praying posture. As doors opened and closed in the humble homes to allow latecomers entry, firelight revealed fathers, mothers, and children gathered around stone tables, some with hands linked in prayer, others already enjoying the bounty of the harvest—food, warmth, and love.
The aroma of stewing vegetables hung in the chilled air. Timothy took a long sniff. Pepper and paprika spiced his nostrils and stung the back of his throat, a good sting that raised memories of Hannah’s homemade sausages, hot and steaming on the plate as she gazed at him lovingly, waiting for him to take the first delicious bite.
The fragrance of the villagers’ contentment carried both bliss and pain. Memories brought smiles, yet coated his heart with sorrow. With Hannah dead, that bliss was forever gone, burned away with the flames that ravaged their home. He blew a sigh and pushed his hands into his pockets. His companion nuzzled his ear but kept quiet.
As they reached the end of the road and stepped onto a dirt path, Abraham laid an arm over Timothy’s shoulder. “You have held your tongue all day. Will you tell me nothing of your meditations?”
“I can tell you some.” Timothy kicked a pebble to the side. “Since Enoch’s Ghost didn’t tell us anything about Hannah’s fate, it wouldn’t be right for me to live here. Angel would want to become my Eve, and I couldn’t bear to say no, especially when I don’t have a proven reason. She’s an excellent woman, and if I could, I’d be her Adam in a heartbeat. But, as it stands, I can’t, and torturing her any further would be a crime.”
“Not to mention torturing yourself,” Abraham said. “Still, I think she would understand. Your intentions are honorable.”
Timothy nodded but said no more.
Abraham rubbed his son’s back. “Can you tell me what you have been thinking about the prophecy?”
Timothy shook his head. “Just make sure the night guard knows I’m allowed to stay in the garden tonight, and I’ll be fine.”
Abraham stopped and faced Timothy, his expression grave. “Will you ever come back to us?”
Timothy couldn’t bear to look at him. He just lowered his head and pressed on down the path. “No, Father. After I do what I am called to do, I could never come back.”
Abraham caught up and marched at Timothy’s side. “If you believe you have found the deceiver, then you need to tell me before you deliver judgment. As Prophet, I must first render a verdict, or there will be no justice in the land.”
Timothy dared not look up at him. “Does God ever call us to do an injustice?”
“Of course not. He is the supreme judge.”
“Then you have no concern.” Timothy halted at the edge of the garden where a tall muscular man stepped in front of him.
“A fair evening,” the man said. “What brings you to the garden after dark?”
Abraham waved his hand. “Matters of the heart, Cliffside. Please signal the other guards on the perimeter that my friend, Timothy, may stay here for the night.”
Cliffside bowed. “Your will is mine, Father.” He turned and whistled several short bursts, two long ones, and two more short ones. A high-pitched whistle answered from across the field, then two others, one from the left and one from the right. The guard extended his hand toward the rows of plants. “You are welcome here, my friend.”
Timothy stepped toward the garden, but turned at the last second. He opened his mouth to speak to his father, but nothing came out. Heat surged into his cheeks. As he stared at Abraham’s concerned eyes, Listener’s pitiful face flashed across his mind. She was just a little girl! How could he possibly do such a thing to a sweet little girl?
Grabbing hold of Abraham’s cloak, Timothy pulled him into an embrace. “Father!” he cried, shaking, “I … I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but I have to do it.” He pulled back, and clenched his hands together. His whole body quaked. “Please forgive me! It’s … it’s for my daughters, my precious daughters.”
Abraham nodded at the guard, who quickly retreated into the garden. He reached out and caressed the back of Timothy’s head. “My son, I know how you feel. When I left you and Thigocia on the ark and flew into a storm of demons, I could only watch you float away as I faded into darkness. I had to act on what Enoch told me, and though it sounded like a fool’s errand, my faith in God and in you was rewarded, and my obedience proved to save your life and the future of the dragon race.” He drew back a step and nodded toward the garden. “You do what you must do, and even if I don’t see you again until eternity’s dawn, I will walk in confidence that you have followed the light. I taught you wisdom from the time you were born, and I believe you will hold to it now.”
Timothy reached out again, but Abraham turned and strode away, his face set straight ahead as darkness enveloped him.
Drooping his shoulders, Timothy shuffled into the garden and sat at its edge. Without the benefit of nearby trees to break the wind, a cold breeze cut through his jacket and chilled his body. He shivered hard.
Hugging himself, both to warm his skin and to quiet his soul, he gazed at thin wisps of smoke rising from the village into Pegasus’s pale yellow glow. The huge moon, now about a quarter of the way up its nightly ascension, was followed in its path by a smaller moon peeking above the distant tree line.
His companion orbited slowly, its eyes staying focused on his head. It hadn’t spoken to his mind in hours, but he hadn’t said a word to it, either. With only such a short time to get accustomed to this orbiting egg, it was hard to know its ways. Was he supposed to ask it questions or just wait for it to give advice like it did before?
As the night progressed, the delicate sounds of the deserted garden drizzled into his ears—the breeze petting the praying leaves, an occasional whistle from one of the guards, and gentle laughter from somewhere in the village, a happy family making ready for bed.
Timothy nodded. Bedtime. Soon Listener would come riding on Grackle. Soon he would complete this terrible task. Soon he would have the stain of innocent blood on his hands, an indelible mark that would scar his soul for all eternity.
He shook again, this time from sobs that heaved from deep within. Tears dripped into his lap, and, lifting his gaze toward the sky, he cried into the wind. “Father! Why have you brought me here? Why did you choose me? You need someone with a hard heart, someone who could plunge a dagger into the breast of a little girl without seeing his own daughters staring back at him as her life’s blood drained away. For the rest of my life I will have to hide what I did, lest I hear them call out, ‘Daddy, why did you do this? Why did you let an innocent lamb die in my place?’”
Heaving in a deep breath, he wept on. “If there is any way you can take this task away from me, Father, let it be so. You have already given your holy son for my daughters, why must anyone else make a sacrifice for them to see the light? Let someone else bear this burden. Let someone else give up their life force to show your grace. Not this precious lamb. Not this suffering little servant.”
His companion brushed by his ear. Who, Makaidos? Who has two life forces to sacrifice? Who but Listener has such a gift to offer?
Timothy covered his face with his hands and directed his thoughts toward the ovulum. Nobody has two. She is the chosen one.Then weep, dear Timothy. God will always listen. It glided in front of his face and hovered, its eyes flashing blue. But will you despair?Timothy shook his head. Never! I have seen too many miracles to despair. If I can watch from the prow of an ark while my father is murdered and not fly out to die with him in battle, I can carry out this sacrifice. I have to do my heavenly Father’s will no matter what.
The companion floated back to his shoulder and perched. Then, so be it.
As silence again descended on the garden, the moons shed light on the pregnant stalks. One of the plumper leaf pairs shifted, its walls bending and protruding in random spots. Timothy imagined a little elbow poking from near the middle, and a foot at the end of a stretching leg trying to find room as the precious life inside outgrew its temporary shell. Soon, maybe even tonight, it would leave that shell behind and fall into the arms of a loving mother or father where it would be safe from all harm.
Timothy searched the row for other mature pods and noticed Cliffside approaching, a torch in hand. Walking slowly, he paused at each of the bigger plants, obviously checking for imminent births. When he drew near, Timothy rose to his feet.
“This one is almost ready,” Timothy said, pointing.
Cliffside smiled. “I’ve been watching that one. The chosen parents wanted to stay here tonight, but this baby won’t come until tomorrow at the earliest. They probably can’t sleep anyway. This child will be their first.”
Watching the guard’s earnest face drew a surge of emotion from Timothy’s heart. “Thank you,” he said.
Cliffside’s brow arched. “For what?”
“For watching over the children. They need more guards like you where they came from.”
A puzzled look flashed across Cliffside’s face, but he just smiled again. “We have detected shadow people in the area,” he said, withdrawing a dagger from his belt and extending it toward Timothy. “If one of them gets past our patrol, this blade is sharp enough to slice them.”
Timothy grasped the hilt, silvery metal wrapped in a leather strap. Its eight-inch serrated blade gleamed in the moonlight. “Thank you,” he said, blinking nervously.
Cliffside nodded and continued his watchful tour in the next row. After a minute or so, only his bobbing torch was visible in the dimness.
Clutching the dagger tightly, Timothy sat next to the wiggling plant again and imagined the squirming little boy or girl inside. He repeated his own words in his mind. They need more guards like you where they came from. Biting his lip, he lowered his head and spoke in his mind to his companion. They certainly don’t need hypocrites like me, right?
The ovulum floated up to his ear and replied in a quiet tone. You are not a hypocrite until you act against what you know to be right. Your deeds define what you are, and a hypocritical act will soil your character beyond your ability to cleanse. You only have one life to give to God, so give it to him without stain or blemish.
“Easy for you to say,” Timothy grumbled out loud, letting the moonlight flash on the blade. “You don’t have any children you have to kill for.”I have only you to love and counsel. The companion perched again atop his shoulder. I have no children to kill or die for.
The plant wiggled violently. Setting the dagger on the ground, Timothy rose to his knees and caressed both leaves gently. “Shhhh … It’s going to be okay.” As he rubbed the baby’s back, it arched, and the little head shifted until it rested in Timothy’s palm. Tenderly massaging it with his thumb, he began to sing a lullaby he made up for Ashley years ago.
Your daddy slays the nightmare beasts
Who bring their sorrows to your mind.
Begone you monsters, take those fears
And never leave your ghosts behind.
Slowly, the baby settled down. As its steady heartbeat pulsed through the leaf and into his skin, Timothy wept. This child would be born tomorrow and cradled in loving arms, while another precious child would not awaken to another dawn. He snatched up the dagger again and gritted his teeth. There had to be another way! There just had to be!
A weak whistle spilled down from the sky. Timothy slid the dagger behind his belt and looked up. The silhouette of a great dragon passed in front of Pegasus and dove toward him. In a gust of wind and flapping wings, Grackle landed gracefully, Listener sitting in the control seat, dressed in purple sweat pants and a black leather jacket. She whistled again, and, while the dragon lowered its head to the ground, she waved Timothy aboard.
Timothy let go of the leaf and scrambled up the dragon’s stairway. When he settled himself in the already warm passenger’s seat, he reached around and hugged her from behind, his cheek nuzzling hers. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
She nodded forcefully.
“Then let’s go.” Just as he was about to pull back, her two companions buzzed around his eyes. The weaker one brushed against the stronger one, and they seemed for a moment to be annoyed with each other.
Listener whistled. Grackle spread out his wings.
“Wait!” Timothy called, falling back in his seat. “Wait just a minute.”
Listener whistled again and massaged Grackle’s warm scales, breathing a lower whistle to keep him calm.
“I have an idea.” Breathing rapidly, Timothy ran his fingers through his hair. “It might work, but our timing has to be perfect.”
A shout pierced the night. “Who goes there?”
“It’s the guard!” Timothy clasped her shoulder. “Get us out of here!”
She pursed her lips and blew a shrill blast. Just as Cliffside came back into view, Grackle beat his wings and vaulted into the air. After gaining altitude in a tight circle over the garden, he shot away toward the land of the shadow people.
Timothy twisted and looked down. The torch streaked toward the village. Soon, Abraham would know. Brushing aside Listener’s hair, he leaned forward and kissed her on her scaly cheek, whispering, “You are the bravest of the brave, little lass. I love you like my own daughter.”
Listener nodded, rubbing their cheeks together. Warmth flooded Timothy’s heart. Words weren’t necessary … She loved him, too.
As they approached the bowl-shaped valley, the wind grew colder and colder, stiffening his fingers and numbing his skin. He could barely extend his frigid arms to point the way or force out spoken directions into the biting wind.
Listener didn’t seem to mind the cold. As she guided the dragon in the direction Timothy pointed, her little brow furrowed whenever a gust threw them slightly off course, but, other than an occasional shiver, she remained stoic.
Timothy leaned to see around Grackle’s head, searching for the river’s exit point. Now in darkness, except for the crossing rays of the two moons, the interlaced shadows seemed to blend together, making everything below a crisscrossed web of dark shapes. Since the light tunnel had gone out, there would be no beacon to guide them.
Finally, a glimmer arose from below, a sparkling ribbon. “The river!” Timothy shouted. “Follow it to the right!”
Listener whistled two short bursts and tapped the dragon’s neck. With a sudden feeling of lost weight, Timothy retightened his belt and hung on as Grackle banked and dove at the same time.
Blistering cold wind flapped Timothy’s hair and cheeks, bringing shivers so violent, he thought his bones might break. Even Listener trembled, but she kept her wits about her as she slapped each side of the dragon’s neck in turn, taking him out of the dive.
Now below the tops of the surrounding ridge, the air tempered, allowing Timothy to speak without trembling. He pointed at the mouth of the river. “Over there. That clearing next to the clump of trees.”
Listener guided the dragon to the spot, and they landed gracefully next to the river. As Grackle shuddered his wings, Timothy unstrapped his belt and glanced all around, whispering. “The light from the tunnel always kept the shadow people away, but now that it’s dark, they could be lurking. Pegasus will likely keep them away from the river, but once we go into the forest, there’s no telling what might happen.”
He slid down to the ground and helped Listener dismount. Gazing up into the cold dark sky, he brushed his cheek against hers. “I will miss you,” he said. “Your willingness to die for others will never be forgotten.”
Listener’s brow furrowed, and she squeezed his hand.
“Shhh. We have to wait a moment.” Timothy stroked her hair. “Our timing has to be perfect. Without more than one witness, who will believe such a story?”
A faint roar rumbled in the sky from far away. Timothy looked up and scanned the darkness. “That sounded like Albatross.”
Nodding, Listener pointed at a spot over the ridge. The white dragon, just a tiny blur in the moon’s glow, was closing in fast.