Eye of the Oracle

chapter 7

THE PRICE OF BETRAYAL

The Ovulum slipped off Sapphira’s foot, and its splash erupted in a gigantic spray that wrapped around the girls in a tight waterspout. As the other two snakes spun away, the swamp dried at the girls’ feet. The Ovulum sat next to Sapphira’s toes, pulsing crimson halos that seemed to spin the water around, making a vacuum that drew everything upward, including the girls’ hair and their drenched clothing.

Sapphira’s arms ached, but she kept her grip on the serpent, still coiled around Acacia as it snapped with its needle-like fangs. Lifting her firebrand higher, Sapphira shouted, “Give me a new firestorm! I need all the power I can get!”

Tongues of fire leaped from her hand, and the stick exploded in a shower of streaming flames. The fire expanded into a new spinning wall that circled around them inside the waterspout. Sapphira’s vision suddenly sharpened. Sadness crept through her mind. There was no doubt; a new portal window was taking shape, but, with her arms throbbing, could she keep the writhing snake at bay?

Air rushed upward, and the sunlight winked out. They zoomed down, the whole world plunging so fast their bodies seemed to lift off the ground and hover in midair. The walls of fire and water blended together into billowing clouds of vapor. Then, in a splash of fire and steam, they crashed into a shallow bed of water that cushioned the blow of the rocky ground below. Sapphira lunged for the snake, but it had slipped from her hand. Now crawling on all fours on wet stone, she groped for its neck. When she finally found it, she jerked it up, but its limp body lay loose within her fingers. The snake’s head had been crushed.

Sapphira glanced around. Elam stood next to her holding a thick scroll. “That snake won’t bother anyone,” he said, smacking the scroll’s heavy dowel against his palm.

The portal’s column of light flickered between blue and orange and finally settled on a muted orange hue. Acacia stirred next to Sapphira, trying to push the serpent’s coils down to her ankles. With her soaked white hair plastered against her pale face, she looked like a frazzled ghost.

At Sapphira’s feet lay the Ovulum, cold and dark, but unharmed. She breathed a long sigh and gazed at Elam, barely able to whisper, “Thank you.” She reached over and helped Acacia unwind the snake’s coils. A dozen more hands joined in, one pair wringing out Sapphira’s dress, another combing through Acacia’s hair.

Acacia pulled her clinging sleeve away from her skin. “We need to get out of these wet things.”

“You know,” Elam said, pointing his thumb at the exit corridor, “with Morgan gone now, I think it’s safe to explore. There are quite a few rooms I was never able to see.”

Sapphira smiled. Elam’s chivalry never seemed to falter. She nodded toward a lantern near the museum door. “Give me light!” she called out. The lantern’s wick ignited. “There. Come back when the fuel’s about half gone and tell us what you find.”

Elam winked at her and draped the dead snake over his shoulder. “Got it.” He strode to the corridor and dropped the serpent’s body at the entrance. “I’ll leave it here. It shouldn’t stink too bad this far away.” He smiled and disappeared under the arch.

Sapphira pointed at a pile of scrolls stacked against the museum’s outer wall. “Could some of you girls bring about ten of those scrolls over here? That’s my throwaway pile, and they’ll be good for building a fire.” She pulled her outer dress over her head and stuffed the Ovulum into its pocket.

Acacia stripped her outer dress off as well. As she rung out the excess water, her eyes followed the three girls who began building a stack of scrolls. “Why would you want to burn scrolls?” she asked.

“If you knew what was in them, you’d want to burn them, too.” Sapphira nudged a scroll with her toe. “One is Nimrod’s account of his temple activities, and another describes how to prepare human sacrifices for the idols in Shinar. The others are just as bad or worse.”

Acacia picked up one of the scrolls and scowled at it. “Ignite!” One end burst into flames, and she threw it back into the pile. The fire quickly spread to the other scrolls.

Sapphira laughed. “I think you’re getting it!”

Acacia pulled off her inner tunic. One of the girls removed her own outer dress and handed it to Acacia, then helped her stretch it over her head.

Acacia smiled. “Thank you, Yara.”

Yara, now wearing only her inner tunic, spread Acacia’s wet clothes over two broken ladder pieces. She grinned bashfully at Sapphira. “Your turn.”

A taller girl, also dressed only in an inner tunic, presented Sapphira with an outer dress. Sapphira peeled off her underclothes and slipped on the dry outer tunic, letting the bottom hem drop to her ankles. “Thank you, uh . . .”

“That’s Awven,” Acacia said.

Sapphira nodded at her and smiled as sweetly as she could. “Thank you so much, Awven.” Awven smiled back and hung Sapphira’s wet clothes next to Acacia’s.

The two oracles of fire faced each other, sitting cross-legged with the crackling scrolls between them. The other girls gathered in a circle around them and sat quietly.

Sapphira rubbed her hands in front of the fire. It flashed orange, matching the portal column’s new color. “Well, I guess moving the portal worked. This place will be a lot more peaceful knowing Morgan won’t be sneaking up on us.”

Acacia laughed softly. “Right. No more plunges into the chasm. That was no fun at all.”

“I can believe that. Your scream haunted my nightmares ever since it happened.” Sapphira nodded toward one of the other girls. “Do you know their stories? I don’t remember seeing any of them before today.”

“You wouldn’t. We were still in our growth chambers when Morgan decided these girls were too smart for her purposes. She threw them into the chasm not long after we were uprooted. Yara overheard Morgan telling Mardon to keep you and me so he could learn why we were so different and to try to” she glanced at Paili “uh . . . alter the next brood, I guess you might say. Then, Morgan caught her listening and threw her into the chasm.”

“So,” Sapphira said, tapping her fingers on the stone floor, “Yara made it through the whirlpool along with the other eleven who came before us. But I wonder what happened to Taalah and the spawns who came later. And what about the little embryos that Mardon incinerated?”

“Before you came and freed us, the man we listened to told us that some girls burned in the magma, and some burned elsewhere. He said their souls traveled to other destinations, but he wouldn’t tell us where. He pretty much said, in a kind way, of course, that it was none of our business.”

“Your teacher is the person inside the Ovulum? And you listened to him for centuries?”

“It sure looked like him, but we didn’t listen to him all the time. He would tell us stories for a while and then we would sleep. I think we slept for very long periods of time, but I’m not sure. I never dreamed, so it was hard to tell. It never got boring, and we never got hungry or sick.”

Sapphira nodded at Yara. “The only difference between these girls and the ones who didn’t survive the magma is when they were spawned. Why would that be?”

“That couldn’t be the reason,” Acacia said. “Paili survived, and she was spawned after we were.”

Sapphira raised her knees and propped her chin on them. “Well, then Paili is the real key. Why is she different from Taalah and Qadar?”

Paili leaned forward and whispered in Sapphira’s ear. “They ate Morgan’s fruit.”

The words echoed in Sapphira’s mind and dredged a painful trench in her heart. She swallowed through her tightening throat as tears welled in her eyes. The truth behind “They ate Morgan’s fruit” rang like a clear bell.

“Is something wrong?” Acacia asked.

Sapphira nodded. Her lips quivered, and her voice cracked. “It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have let Paili use that fruit in the stew. I should have thrown it all in the river.”

Paili laid her hands on Sapphira’s back. “You told them,” she said softly. “They not listen.”

Sapphira shook her head and kicked a protruding scroll farther into the fire. The flames leapt up and crackled louder, masking her squeaking voice. “I could’ve stopped them. I really could have.”

Acacia squinted at her. “What are you talking about?”

After taking a deep breath, Sapphira related the story about Morgan’s fruit from the tree in the museum. She added most of her other significant adventures, from the tower collapse to the amazing midnight dance with Elohim. As she spoke, Acacia paid close attention, glancing at the tree in the museum from time to time and stoking the fire whenever one of the girls brought a new scroll for fuel.

When Sapphira finished, she exhaled loud and long. “There’s a lot more to tell, but I’m getting tired.”

“Don’t worry,” Acacia said. “I’m sure we’ll have time later. I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a while.”

Sapphira raised her eyebrows at the drying clothes. “We’d better get dressed before Elam gets back.”

The girls hurriedly changed clothes, giving back the outer dresses to their owners. As Yara continued to feed the flames, Acacia ventured into the museum library and browsed through the scrolls that lay within reach, picking up a few and blowing dust off their yellowed exteriors. “Are there any maps that show the layout of this place?” she called. “We could use one for exploring.”

“Yes,” Sapphira replied, pointing. “Check the third shelf up, near the back, over by the ladder with the broken first rung.”

“I think I see the shelf.” Acacia grasped the ladder and began climbing.

Sapphira strode to the corridor, stepped over the dead snake, and peered into the dark hall. Elam should have been back by this time. Could Mardon have found him? Knowing Elam, he probably tried to get into every forbidden room he could find.

“Sapphira,” Acacia yelled from the ladder. “I found it. It shows everything ”

“Wait!” Sapphira held up her hand. “I hear something.” Slaps of sandals on stone echoed in the tunnel. Light appeared, drawing rapidly closer. Sounds of heavy breathing mixed in, then a shout.

“Sapphira!” Elam’s face glowed in the bouncing light of a lantern. He stopped at the end of the corridor, his cheeks red and streaming with sweat. “You won’t believe what I saw!”

“Try me.” She kicked the dead snake’s body. “At this point, I’m ready to believe anything.”

“I found the mobility training room for the spawns. It’s amazing!”

“How did you get in?”

Acacia walked up, an open scroll in her hands. “Through the ceiling, I’ll bet.”

Elam mopped his brow with his sleeve. “How did you know?”

Acacia held up the scroll. “This is a map to the layout of this place. There’s a heat release vent and tunnel above the mobility room ceiling.”

“Did they see you?” Sapphira asked Elam. “They’re all giants now, right?”

“They’re huge!” he replied, spreading out his arms. “But, no, they didn’t see me. I just peeked in from above and closed the trapdoor real quick.”

“Was Mardon in there?”

“Uh-huh. He was showing the biggest giant how to train the others.”

Sapphira shook her head. “I’ll bet that was my spawn, Yereq.”

“Yes!” Elam pointed at her. “That was the name he called it. Yereq.”

Acacia took the scroll closer to the firelight and rolled it out on the floor. “Here,” she said, pointing to the upper right portion of the map. “This one’s labeled the mobility room.”

Elam pressed his finger on a room at the bottom left. “We’re way over here.”

“That’s strange,” Acacia said. “The room we’re in isn’t labeled.”

“I remember looking at this a few years ago.” Sapphira tapped her finger next to Elam’s. “I think this was an empty chamber before the museum dropped in. Mardon probably drew this map long before that happened, and he still might not know about it. Morgan never told Mardon anything he didn’t need to know, not even about the abyss.”

“The abyss?” Acacia tilted her head at Sapphira. “What’s that?”

“Something only Morgan, Paili, and I know about. Paili and I found it while mining and almost fell in, but we had no clue what it was.” Sapphira scanned the map. “Where’s the mining level?”

Acacia rolled it out farther. “Let’s see. . . . Laborers’ quarters . . . Ah! Mining level.”

Sapphira slid her finger along dark lines that represented the trenches. “This is an old drawing. We mined past the end of this before I got promoted to the control room.” She pointed at a spot off the map. “If you extended the drawing, the abyss would be about right here. It’s a deep hole, so deep I couldn’t see the bottom.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t know what’s in it,” Elam said.

“Not for sure. We heard someone moaning, and I read something in a scroll that told me what might be down there. I assumed the scroll was right, so I never went back. One thing’s for sure; Morgan seemed interested in it.”

“Well, I don’t know about you girls,” Elam said, “but if Morgan’s interested in it, I want to know what’s going on.”

“What’s your hurry?” Sapphira asked. “It seems safe enough where we are.”

“Until we learn everything that’s going on here, I won’t assume we’re safe.” He picked up the lantern. “Anyone want to join me?”

Sapphira sighed. “I guess I should. I know exactly where it is.”

“No!” Paili shook her head and grabbed Sapphira’s hand. “Not the deep hole!”

Acacia gently pulled Paili away from Sapphira and hugged her close. “I’ll stay with the girls. If Mardon doesn’t know what’s in this chamber, maybe we should set up a home here.”

Elam nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

Sapphira picked up a scroll from the fire and tapped out the flames. “I’ll use this if the lantern fuel runs out.”

Sapphira and Elam hurried along the corridor, Elam staying a step or two in front. They passed the original portal chamber and wound through the meandering corridor that led to the laborers’ hovels. When they reached the lift platform, Elam paused and stared at the cudgel and metal plate hanging on the wall. “We don’t want to wake Chazaq, that’s for sure, but he might not be down there, anyway.”

Sapphira touched the warped plate, making it swing like a pendulum. “So we’re stuck?”

“Looks that way.” Elam tugged the pulley rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s probably tied at the bottom.”

“Do you know another way to get down?”

“Sure. If you can climb down a rope.”

Sapphira tapped her foot on the platform. “You mean there’s room to squeeze between the wall and this board?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never done it before. But once you get past the passenger platforms, there’s probably lots of room, and going down should be pretty easy.”

“True, but we also have to get back.” Sapphira laid the scroll down and grabbed the rope with both hands. She pulled herself off her feet and dangled in the air. Her arms weren’t as strong as when she was digging for magnetite and chiseling out chambers, but she felt pretty confident she could lower herself to the mining level. Dropping back to the platform, she pointed at the lantern. “What about our light?”

“Not a problem.” Elam unfastened his belt and looped it through the lantern’s handle, then tied it in place. “As long as we get down before it burns a hole in my clothes.” He pulled his sleeves over his hands, latched onto the rope, and began sliding down with his back against the side wall, but the lantern bumped against the platform, keeping him from descending.

Sapphira pushed against the side wall to make the gap wider. “Good thing you’re going first.”

After sliding down farther, he paused, his face now the only part of his body above the platform. As a breeze from below blew his hair into a frenzy, he smiled. “Don’t worry. If Nabal’s down there, I’ll chase him away with his own whip.”

He slid out of sight, and the lantern’s glow faded, leaving Sapphira in almost complete darkness. She groped for the scroll and tied it in her own belt, then copied Elam’s descent. Being smaller than Elam, she managed to squeeze herself and the scroll between the platform and wall without help.

When she slid into the gap between levels, only the glow from Elam’s lantern colored the darkness, providing just enough light to illuminate the rope that stretched between them. With a cool draft breezing up from below, she felt like a dim island in a blowing sea of blackness, following a guide she really barely knew at all. Of course she could trust him, couldn’t she?

Feeling exposed and helpless, she continued sliding, concentrating on a mental image of Elam’s noble face and chivalrous manner. This young gentleman wasn’t anything like the bestial monsters in Nimrod’s lust-filled temples. He would never entertain the idea of taking advantage of a girl.

Elam pushed each succeeding platform out of the way with his feet. When he finally reached the mining level, he swung off the rope and held out his hand to her. She took his hand, and when she planted her feet on the board, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly.

He untied the lantern and gazed into the mining cavern. “For what? Taking your hand?”

“That’s part of it.” Sapphira pulled the scroll from her belt. “It’s hard to explain.”

Without looking back at her, Elam nodded and walked out into the cool chamber. “I think I know what you mean.”

She pulled up alongside him and breathed at the lantern. “Time to sleep for a while,” she said. The wick immediately darkened, leaving only the billowing glow from the nearby magma river. She strode ahead and waved for Elam to follow. “No giants in sight. Let’s go.”

The two hustled along the trench, probing deeper into the dimmer recesses of the chamber. The coolness of the stale air chilled Sapphira’s hands and cheeks, and just when she thought about relighting the lantern, the distant radiance of the abyss caught her eye.

Sapphira slowed to a creeping tiptoe, Elam at her side. When they neared the edge, he laid a hand on her shoulder and took the next two steps alone, craning his neck forward to peek down into the strangely illuminated hole. Sapphira edged to his side again and peered down with him.

The streams of light that swirled to the surface looked like a morning mist caught in a gentle eddy. When the gemstones on the walls of the abyss absorbed the streams, the crystalline facets seemed to exhale them in a more consistent, static glow that rose toward the ceiling.

Elam whispered into Sapphira’s ear. “Only one way to find out what’s down there.”

“Talk to it?” she asked. The Ovulum began to warm in her pocket. “Are you sure?”

“Why not? If whatever is down there could get out, wouldn’t it have escaped a long time ago?”

“Good point.” The Ovulum grew so warm, it began to sting her leg. She took a step away from the pit. “But if it’s what I think it is, I’m not sure we should talk to it at all.”

Elam glanced back at her. “What do you think it is?”

“A bunch of evil spirits called Watchers. I read a scroll that said they would be sent to the abyss in the lowest realms.”

“How do you know they’re evil?”

“The scroll said so.”

Elam looked down at the ground for a moment, a pained expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Sapphira asked. “The song again?”

“I’m not sure.” Elam covered one ear with his hand. “It’s like the song’s stuck in my mind. I don’t know if it’s a voice or just a memory, but the words keep coming back.”

“And you can’t ignore it?”

“I’m trying to.” He uncovered his ear and stared at her, giving her a weak, forced smile. “Anyway, can you trust who wrote that scroll of yours? I mean, if Morgan told me something was evil, I would think it was probably good. How do you know what to trust?”

“I’ve thought about that too many times to count. I think ”

A low moan sounded from the abyss, growing in volume as voices of varying pitches joined in. One of the moans transformed into a string of words, lament streaking its tone.

“Does a valiant warrior from above seek to rescue the downtrodden? We are wretched creatures who have been condemned to eternal torment, and we have suffered for century after century in this cold, desolate hole. Without trunk or limb, we cannot climb the walls to freedom. Without a savior to hear our appeals for forgiveness, we lie here doomed forever.”

Sapphira took another step back, but Elam leaned closer. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She jumped ahead and latched onto his arm. “Elam, don’t.”

The swirling light collected at the top of the hole, white at first, but it split into multicolored streams that rose above ground level and formed into a vertical, elliptical aura. “We have many names,” the voice continued. “Come and help us.”

With each word, the rainbow colors shimmered across the aura’s surface, making it look like a dimensional viewing screen, much like the one the Ovulum had made except more lovely to behold, with dazzling colors waltzing in its ghostly glow instead of a flat, dull red. It also seemed deeper, richer, more captivating as its allure drew them closer, step by step.

The Ovulum stung Sapphira’s leg again. “Ow!” She jumped back. “The Eye of the Oracle doesn’t want us to listen.”

“Ah!” the voice continued, now without a lamenting tone. “There are two of you, and a young female doubts our words.” The colors in the aura formed into the image of a face, a noble-looking man with a strong chin, flashing eyes, and flowing silver hair. Its lips moved in sync with the voice. “I am a Seraph, an angel of Elohim and king of the watching guardians. My kind fought with the dragons, and our battle brought about the great flood that plunged us here to Tartarus. All I need is a courageous young man who is willing to forsake timid, female counsel and climb down to carry us to freedom.”

As Elam turned toward Sapphira, his eyes darted wildly.

Heat surged into Sapphira’s cheeks, and she backed away another step. “No, Elam. He’s lying. I know he is.”

Elam grimaced. He lifted his hands toward his ears, then jerked them back down. “How can you be so sure? My father believed in Elohim and his angels. Maybe the voice in the abyss is telling the truth.”

Sapphira held up the scroll. It trembled in her hand, matching her quivering voice. “I believe Enoch. He was a prophet who warned the Watchers about their evil ways. They were Seraphim who made war against Elohim and his dragons.”

Elam stared at the scroll. “Does Enoch say that Elohim had dragons?”

“I don’t remember!” She waved it in front of him. “But you won’t find the stories in this scroll! Enoch’s is a different one! It’s still hidden in my dugout.”

The voice in the aura spoke again, the lamenting tone returning. “Alas! It is true young Elam. Enoch warned us about fighting against the dragons. We thought they were allies of the first dragon, Lucifer, the prince of rebels against Elohim. Go and read Enoch’s scroll. You will see that we are angels who did not join Lucifer’s prideful quest to unseat the Holy One. To our shame, however, we followed an ill-advised course that brought about our banishment. Now, in our sorrow and contrition, we beg for escape so we can fly to the mercy seat of Elohim and plead for forgiveness.”

Sapphira balled her hand into a fist. “I don’t believe a word he’s saying, Elam. He’s lying. I can feel it.”

The voice grew louder. “Elam, you have heard the song of truth in your ears. Why trust the ever-fluctuating feelings of this little girl? Read Enoch for yourself. Gather your own strength and wisdom and follow the course set before you by trusting your heart of gold.”

Elam stared at the noble face, then at Sapphira. With each glance, his expression stayed the same stern, cautious, maybe carrying a hint of fear. He stalked away from the abyss, and as he passed Sapphira, he wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “Stay here,” he ordered, nodding at his fingers. He then broke into a jog through the trench, calling behind him. “I’ll be back.”

As Elam’s sandal thumps died away, a chill passed across Sapphira’s skin. He had acted so strangely! What did the wiggling fingers mean? But she couldn’t ask now. She was alone with a demon, or maybe a bunch of demons. Who could tell how many? And knowing that they probably couldn’t escape did little to ease her mind. She edged back into the darkness, letting her feet pad noiselessly from toe to heel. She didn’t want that . . . that thing to know she was still around, but as its light cast a glow over her retreating body, she couldn’t shake the chilling fear.

A loud click sounded from somewhere beyond the abyss. The angel’s image vibrated. “Is someone still here?” he asked.

Sapphira halted. The angel probably couldn’t see her at all. That face was just a projection of some kind, and the eyes were really blind.

The click sounded again. “Someone is here,” the angel said. “Who is it?”

Sapphira held her breath. Elam had gone the other way, so he didn’t make the noise, and she had never gone farther than the pit, so she had no idea what could be beyond it. Bats, maybe? Something worse? She took another quiet step backwards.

A coarse, female voice crashed through the silence. “Well, if it isn’t little Miss Mara!”

The chill pierced Sapphira’s heart and made her freeze in place. Morgan! Sapphira scanned the chamber in the direction of the voice, but the pit’s brilliant aura blinded her.

Framed by the angel’s shining profile, Morgan’s familiar silhouette sashayed around the abyss, her face shadowed. Still, Sapphira could imagine the evil smile on Morgan’s lips just from the crackling sarcasm in her voice. “So nice of you to greet me at the back door, Mara dear. You must have known the front door was locked, so you rushed down here to form a welcoming party with Samyaza.”

That name sounded familiar, but Sapphira didn’t want to let Morgan know. She twisted her face in mock curiosity. “Samyaza? Who’s Samyaza?”

Morgan turned her sarcastic tone to its maximum setting. “Do you mean to tell me you haven’t been properly introduced?” Her shadowy hand rose to her mouth. “For shame! Samyaza is such a friendly angel. I wonder why he hasn’t told you who he is.”

The name finally clicked in Sapphira’s mind. Enoch listed Samyaza as one of the Watchers! She squeezed her scroll tightly and slid her free hand into her pocket, groping for the Ovulum. It was growing warm, a soothing kind of warmth. Maybe Elohim was ready to help her battle this witch.

Sapphira held the scroll high and waved it. “Maybe Samyaza didn’t introduce himself because he knew I learned his name from a certain book you’ve been looking for.”

Morgan’s voice pitched up. “You found Enoch’s scroll?”

Sapphira stared at the tightly wound parchment. “Ignite!” she shouted. A vigorous flame burst forth at the upper end, growing larger by the second.

“No!” Morgan lurched toward her, but Sapphira leaped out of the way. She dashed to the abyss and held the scroll over the edge, poking Samyaza’s image in the nose, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Leave this place forever,” Sapphira said, “and I’ll give you this scroll.”

Morgan set her fists on her hips. “What good will it do me if it’s just ashes?”

Sapphira nodded at the scroll. “Enough,” she said, and the flames dwindled away. She rolled it out a few inches and studied the text. “Hmmm. I can still read it.”

The angel’s image vibrated once again. “She is not holding Enoch’s scroll. I sent Elam to get it. He is preparing to play the role of Judas, just as you had hoped.”

Morgan’s face lit up. “Ah! Excellent!”

“Judas?” Sapphira asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Elam is putty in my hands,” Samyaza continued. “Naamah’s song has broken his will, and his temptation to yield to Lucifer’s call is strong. The girl will soon be out of our way forever. Now we merely have to paint the proper portrait of our little oracle of fire.”

Sapphira kicked a pebble and shouted, “What are you talking about?”

Morgan pressed a finger over her lips. “Hush now. Fits of impatience are so unbecoming. Little slave girls like you need to learn their place. You’re just an overgrown plant, a freak of nature without a soul. You might as well get used to the idea” she smiled wickedly and poisoned her final word with sarcasm “Mara.”

Scorching heat surged through Sapphira’s body. The scroll burst into flames again, burning downward until it concealed her hand in fire, but she ignored it as she raged at Morgan. “I am not Mara! I am Sapphira Adi! I am not a freak of nature! I danced with Elohim, and he loves me!” The soothing warmth of the Ovulum caressed her thigh, calming her down. The scroll continued to burn, though not as brightly.

Morgan cast a glance along the trench. “It is time, Samyaza,” she said softly.

“Understood,” Samyaza said.

The scroll’s flames weakened further, and Sapphira’s mind swam in a spinning whirlpool of anger and confusion. “Time for what?”

“For you to learn the truth.” Morgan shook her head slowly. “Poor, deceived, little Mara. I personally planted your seed, Naamah watered you and sang to you, and I uprooted you and placed you in a growth chamber until you were strong enough to stand. I even helped you take your first step in the spawns’ mobility room. Shouldn’t I know that you’re just a mutant plant who has been created to battle against the sons of Noah? Didn’t you think it odd that I chose you over Acacia? You deserved to die in the chasm, but I sent Acacia to her death instead, because I had a special role in mind for you.” She took a step closer to Sapphira and extended a hand toward her. “Come back to the hovels with me, and we will continue our quest to eliminate what remains of Shem and Japheth. You were wise to turn Elam over to me so I could keep him a prisoner for so long. Now, let’s finish the job.”

Samyaza laughed. “You used Mara to imprison Elam? How clever of you!”

“What?” Sapphira glanced back and forth between Morgan and the aura. “What are you talking about?”

“But,” Samyaza continued, “by your own code, all traitors have to be cast away. If Mara would betray Elam, she would certainly betray you.”

Morgan stroked her chin. “Of course, you’re right, my love. I had forgotten about that.”

Sapphira massaged the Ovulum in her pocket. “But I didn’t betray Elam! You kidnapped him from his people.” The flames on her scroll vanished, leaving only a rising string of smoke.

“I did have him kidnapped,” Morgan continued, “but I would not have known about his trespassing into my room if not for the blossom you left for me to find.” She walked slowly toward Sapphira, her hands swaying hypnotically. “It is time for you to go now, Mara. Your life cycle is over. You betrayed a friend, so no one can trust you.”

Dizziness swirled Sapphira’s vision, and sleepiness weighed down her eyelids. “But I didn’t . . . leave the blossom for you . . . to find. I hid it . . .”

“Under a bed? Come now, Mara. I found the blossom but never Enoch’s scroll. You obviously wanted me to find one and not the other.” Morgan grabbed Sapphira’s shoulders. Her icy fingers radiated sheer cold through her tunics, jolting the fog from her brain. Morgan turned toward the trench and smiled. “Did you hear our conversation, Elam?”

Elam stepped out of the shadows, but the pit’s dim light illuminated only his face. His lips were taut, almost invisible. “I heard it.”

Morgan shuffled Sapphira to the edge of the abyss. “Did you bring it?”

He glanced behind his back. “I brought it.”

“Now you finally know that the songs are true. Sapphira has lied to you and used you.” Morgan kept one hand on Sapphira and extended the other. “By giving me Enoch’s scroll, you will be signifying your rejection of this traitor and condemning her to the abyss. Agreed?”

Sapphira could barely breathe. Nothing she could say now could possibly outwit Morgan. She was too crafty, too devilish. Would Elam be able to see through her deception? The Ovulum kept getting warmer. Sapphira slid it out and tilted her head upward. Elohim! Give him wisdom!

“I don’t trust you,” Elam said. “I don’t want you to get close enough to grab me.”

“Very well. You may leave it there, and I will pick it up.” Morgan started toward him, pulling Sapphira with her.

Elam raised his hand. “No. Don’t come anywhere near me. I’ll throw it to you.”

Morgan halted, still near the edge of the abyss. “If you insist.” She held out her hand again. “You may throw it.”

An urgent call pierced Sapphira’s mind. “Run, child! Run!” She wrenched free from Morgan’s grip and bolted for Elam. Elam reared back and threw something at Morgan, something long and flexible that whipped around and around. As it flew, a pair of fangs glistened at one end. A thick, scaly body slapped Morgan across the face, twisted around her shoulders, and slung her down. She lay motionless inside a huge coil that pinned her to the ground, trapped by her own dead serpent.

The Ovulum pulsed in Sapphira’s hand, sending hundreds of red rings toward Morgan and the abyss. The halos built up into a crimson screen, a translucent divider that spread from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, separating Sapphira and Elam from the sorceress.

Holding the Ovulum away from her body, she let it pour layer after layer of red across the new wall. She draped her other hand over Elam’s shoulders and pulled him close. Sobs punctuated her cry. “I’m so glad you believed in me!”

“She’s a really good liar,” Elam said, “but I never really thought about getting the scroll. I just saw that pit as a good place to toss the snake and shut that demon up.”

On the other side of the thickening screen, Morgan threw the snake’s body to the side, rose to her feet, and kicked it savagely into the abyss.

Elam grinned. “I should have attached a message to it. ‘To the Watcher. With love, from Elam.’”

Sapphira laughed. “Too bad he can’t send you a thank-you note. I think we won’t be seeing him again for a very long time.”

As the Ovulum continued to pulse halos, the voice entered her mind again. “Perhaps you will not see him, child, but first you must send the abyss to the lowest of all realms. Prepare to generate the greatest portal you have ever made.”

Sapphira laid the Ovulum on the ground, took a deep breath, and lifted the scroll high. “Give me light!” she shouted. Flames instantly leaped from the top, jumping and dancing as they consumed the scroll. She waved it in a circle, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the flames expanded into a wide curtain that enveloped Elam and herself as well as the entire chamber. Within seconds, all they could see was the inside of a fiery tornado. The vortex spun so fast, the orange tongues blended together into solid streams of blazing light. The Ovulum’s red pulses mixed in, deepening the orange and tingeing the entire cyclone with bright crimson highlights.

The voice from the Ovulum shouted out loud. “Now, Sapphira Adi! Shine forth the light of love! Show Elam the joy that only Elohim can give!”

A rising tide of ecstasy rose in Sapphira’s heart, filling her mind with song, the same song the Eye sang when Elohim led her in holy dance. The words began to pour from her lips unbidden, more beautifully than she ever imagined she could sing.


In days gone by the water fell

And draped the world in silent death;

A rain of judgment drowned the earth

Demanding life and snatching breath.


But now the raindrops fall afresh

On hearts rejecting hate and sin,

In blessings crowned with love and grace

To heal the wounds of soul and skin.

The flames exploded in brightness. Intense heat nearly blistered her skin, but she didn’t care. She just closed her eyes and sang on.


The one who loves is Elohim,

Rejoicing now in song and dance;

I shout for you to come and play,

Enjoying love, the great romance.


So dance, my child, and feel my love

In rain, the healing drops of life.

Forsake your cares, your toils and pain,

The wounds and scars of slavish strife.

Droplets of water sprinkled her cheeks, and the sizzle of cooling stone breezed past her ears. She tossed the remnant of the scroll to the ground and embraced Elam, her eyes still closed, her body still swaying with her song.


O cast aside the chains of grief

And reach for heaven’s grace above;

So son of Shem come dance with me!

Enfold yourself in arms of love.

This time, Elam returned the embrace, and as cool water poured from above, the two spun slowly with the whirling breeze. Elam’s head nodded in rhythmic spasms as he wept on Sapphira’s shoulder.

She patted his back and drank in his wordless song of joy. Elam had found Elohim. Though Elam had not seen his beloved father in centuries, he had witnessed the truth of his father’s stories about God as he endured the injustice and torture of Morgan’s prisons. Now he stood in the presence of the holy, finally feeling the loving caress of Elohim. The same God who scrubbed the world’s filth with a cleansing flood was now bathing him in a shower of mercy.

As the melody in her heart played on, new words drifted into her mind, sung in the rich voice of the Eye. She listened, wondering if Elam could hear them as well.


A day will come when you will speak

My name anew in sacrifice,

The day you set your heart afire

And give me all, the only price.

The voice faded away, and the fire settled to the earth and vanished. In its place stood a steep grassy slope rising to a high promontory overlooking a valley. Rain poured down from a dismal sky, the sun obscured by a curtain of dark, thick clouds.

Elam pulled away from Sapphira. He gave her a shy smile and nod, then turned his gaze upward, blinking at the sheets of rain. “Any idea where we are?” he asked.

Sapphira took in a long breath. “No clue, and I really don’t care.” She picked up the Ovulum from the mud, wiped it on her sleeve, and slid it into the pocket of her dampening dress. “I have Elohim’s prophet with me, so I have a guide.” She took Elam’s hand. “And I have a warrior with me, so I have a protector.”

Elam kept his gaze focused on the ground. “If you say so,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He looked up at her, his face shining in spite of the gloomy skies. “Even though I’m not the strongest guy around, or the bravest, I’ll be the best warrior I can be.” As his glistening eyes locked on Sapphira’s, he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “But, no matter what happens, I won’t ever betray the girl who risked her life to feed me. That’s a promise.”