Eye of the Oracle

chapter 4

MORGAN’S VICTORY

Elam stood on a driveway leading to Patrick’s mansion and leaned against one of two stone columns that supported an open, wrought iron gate, the entrance to the expansive manor. Standing in front of him, Gabriel fidgeted while Patrick unfastened his backpack. “I apologize for my clumsiness,” Patrick said, pulling the pack away, “but you’re free now.”

“Thanks.” Gabriel spread out his wings and shook each of them in turn. “That’s a lot better. It felt like two elephants were hopping on pogo sticks back there.”

Patrick withdrew a small handgun from the pack and slid it into his pocket. “Perhaps they were jumpy because of my revolver.”

“Could be. More likely because I’m as jumpy as a cricket in a frying pan.”

Elam pointed an unlit torch at the backpack. “Are your wings always uncomfortable when you stuff them in there?”

“You get used to it.” Gabriel lifted each shoulder in turn. “Well, sort of.”

Elam backed away from the gate’s supporting column. Chiseled with eight vertically stacked hideous faces, it looked like a prop from a bad horror movie. He had recognized these remnants of Shinar’s idols when he first saw them bordering the driveway, but he hadn’t remembered to ask Patrick about them. He poked one of the faces with the torch. “How’d these get here?”

Patrick pointed toward his mansion. “The portal we plan to use to get rid of Devin is the very same portal from which Makaidos escaped Dragons’ Rest. It was in a depression called Blood Hollow, and I bought this property with the sole purpose of protecting that point, which now happens to be at the back wall of the compass room. When Makaidos emerged, it seems that these columns came with him. The force of their expulsion apparently propelled them all the way from the back of the property grounds to the front entry. Since I found them to be practically indestructible, I decided to keep them as souvenirs. They make excellent sentries, don’t you think?”

“It’s a great advertisement.” Gabriel held his hands out as if displaying a sign. “Wanted: Ugly guards. Apply within.”

“You’re quite the jester today.” Patrick rubbed his finger across a narrow, engraved plaque wedged in the lips of one of the stone faces. “But they actually do carry a sign. As you can see, I managed to embed my home’s address in the mouth of this particularly ugly woman.”

Elam touched the numbers with his fingertip. “Sixty-nine thirteen? Why do you have such a high number? Yours is the only house in sight.”

“I picked it myself,” Patrick replied. “Six is the number of man. In order to get the second number, add three, the number of God. That represents the union of God and man in the Messiah. Finally, the thirteen honors both the Messiah and Merlin. The Messiah, of course, guided twelve unruly disciples and transformed all but one into holy saints. Merlin brought twelve dragons to Bald Top to be transformed, and stood as our ally, a thirteenth dragon, if you will, and transformed all but one into new creatures. The number thirteen has long been considered a symbol of transformation from one state into another, a dying to an old way of life, and many leaders of twelve have walked this earth to deliver that transformation, promising to return to their followers someday. I still trust that both the Messiah and Merlin will return at exactly the time we need them.”

Gabriel winked at Elam. “That’s exactly what I thought it meant.”

Elam laughed and popped Gabriel on the arm with his fist. “I thought of it first.”

“Yes, gentlemen, and I am a monkey’s uncle.” Patrick withdrew a pocket watch from his trousers and checked the time. “I expected Devin to arrive an hour ago. My sources must have inaccurately estimated his position.”

As Elam scanned the dark, cloudy skies, damp gusts swept through his hair. Somehow, the dismal weather seemed a perfect backdrop for the looming battle. Fortunately, the slayer had agreed to come alone. Boldly daring him to face his enemy without his little lackey was a stroke of genius on Patrick’s part, and picking this hill that overlooked the entire estate proved to be a perfect rendezvous point. The slayer had to show himself long before he could attack.

Elam firmed his chin. It was better this way out in the open and face-to-face. The only question now was how Devin would arrive. On foot? In a car? Dropped out of the sky? Whichever way he chose, he was likely to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

Gabriel pushed his hands into his pockets and angled his head upward. “I’ll keep watch overhead, just in case that raven shows up.”

“Sounds good to me.” Surveying the horizon, Elam tried to pick out the great tor in the haze. The steep hill’s dim outline protruded from the surrounding plane, slightly darker than the blowing fog that veiled its summit. As misty droplets thickened into a steady drizzle, something moved in the foreground of the gray countryside. Tiny and nebulous in the distance, a human figure trotted up the long driveway. Elam waved his hand. “Someone’s coming!”

“Stand ready, men,” Patrick said. “Have courage, Gabriel.”

Elam lowered his hand to his side. “Wait! I see a skirt. It’s a woman . . . or a girl.”

“I see her,” Gabriel said. “Unless Devin’s hiding Excalibur in his bloomers, we should be safe.”

“Yeah, but it might be Morgan. Devin’s got the fangs, but she’s got the poison.” Elam shielded his eyes from the rain. “It doesn’t look like her, but Morgan can disguise herself as a toad if she wants to.”

Gabriel smirked. “Would she even need a mask for that?”

“Actually,” Patrick said, lifting a chain necklace over his head, “she bears a striking, even bewitching, beauty.” He dangled the pendant from his fingers. “Gabriel, take the gem and be ready to fly to the portal window, just in case.”

Gabriel hustled back to Patrick and closed his fingers around the pendant. He locked gazes with Patrick for a moment, then tightened his fist. “Let’s do it.”

As the female drew closer, Elam focused on her frilly bonnet, dark sunglasses, and white walking cane. Though her most striking features were covered, he could never mistake her pale skin, her slender, girlish form, and her distinctive, frantic trot. Sapphira was back!

Fighting the slick incline, Sapphira hurried up the long driveway. The hike from the tor’s portal had been long and wet, and asking for directions based on fleeting images and an obscure number from a dream had proved an embarrassing chore. “Why would a blind girl need such information?” one woman had said. “You shouldn’t be out on such a frightful day.” Yet, she finally gained the favor of an old newspaper deliveryman who answered her questions kindly, and now that she had reached the last turn in his rather convoluted directions, she knew she had found the right place. The two idols were exactly where she had seen them in her dream.

She stopped and pulled Yereq’s digital timer from her pocket. Just as she thought it might, the numbers now matched the address she had been looking for, “6913.” She slid it back into her pocket and drummed her fingers on her thigh. So many coincidences! Something big was about to happen.

At the top of the hill, three male figures watched her an adult, a boy with wings, and another young man, a very special young man she had longed to see for many years. Her legs trembled so hard she could barely stand. Elam was there, and he had spotted her. She was sure of it.

She waved, but Elam didn’t wave back. He just spoke to the man standing next to him. She took off her sunglasses and waved again. Maybe now Elam would recognize her.

A rumbling drone sounded from above. Sapphira glanced up at a low-flying airplane approaching the estate, but it caught her attention only for a second. She turned back to Elam, who was now waving frantically. “Hurry!” he called. “Get up here!”

Sapphira dropped her cane and broke into a mad dash, slipping at first before her bare feet caught the driveway’s blacktop. Spreading her arms to keep her balance, she sprinted up the slope. “Elam!” she cried. “You’re alive! Thank God, you’re alive!” She leaped into his embrace. As Elam spun her around, she bent her knees and lifted her feet into the air. When he let her down, she gripped his shoulders. “Elam, I just had to come and find you. Last night I dreamed what would happen today, and it was so real, I knew it had to be true. You’re in great danger.”

“I know.” Elam pointed toward the sky. “We think a dragon slayer’s in that airplane. But don’t worry. Patrick and I have it under control.”

Sapphira put her sunglasses back on and nodded at the winged boy. “Morgan wants him dead. We need to get him out of here.”

Elam squinted at her. “How could you dream about Gabriel? Do you know him?”

“Just from the dream. I also saw Patrick and his wife, and she’s in trouble, too.” Sapphira regripped his shoulders. “You have to get Gabriel away from this place!”

Patrick pointed upward. “A parachute opened. We can expect Devin to arrive in about a minute.”

Elam pulled a lighter from his pocket and set fire to the oil-soaked torch. “Gabriel is our bait. We’re going to get Devin to follow him and me to the portal, and I’ll send him to Hades.”

Sapphira laid a hand on Patrick’s back and pushed him toward Elam and Gabriel. “I’ll take care of the dragon slayer.” She pulled the cross from her waistband. “But you three had better get inside before Morgan shows up. Knowing her, she’s likely to kill your wife.”

Patrick shook his head emphatically. “We cannot leave you with Devin on a wild hunch that Morgan might be in my house. Ruth is not in danger from her.”

The cross slipped out of Sapphira’s hands. “What name did you call her?”

“Ruth.” Patrick picked up the cross and handed it back to Sapphira. His eyes focused on hers, lingering for a moment. “I take it you know her by another name . . . perhaps a much older name.”

“When I see her, I’ll know for sure.” Sapphira pointed the cross at the mansion. “If I’m right, as soon as Morgan lays eyes on her, she’ll figure out the truth and kill her!”

“Morgan won’t kill her. She needs her to produce an offspring.”

“But Ruth isn’t normal. I learned in my dream that the only way she’ll ever conceive by you is if your dragon genes get altered into human ones, and when Morgan figures that out, she won’t mind killing her.”

Patrick waved his hand at Sapphira. “Yes, I know all that, which is exactly why I set up this confrontation.” He patted the outside of his pocket. “And don’t worry about Devin. I have a backup plan if our primary plan goes awry.”

“But Morgan will ”

“Stay behind me!” Patrick spread his arms, making a shield in front of Sapphira and Gabriel. “No time to explain! Devin is upon us!”

As the slayer neared the ground, Elam stepped out in front and waved his torch, but it seemed a feeble weapon against a trained knight bearing the sword of swords.

With a deft swipe, Devin cut his parachute lines just before landing. After rolling to the wet grass and then jumping to his feet, he brandished Excalibur and glowered at his opposition. “An unarmed man, a winged mongrel, a boy with a torch, and a skinny, blind girl. How pitiful! Killing you four would hardly be sporting.”

Elam pointed his torch at the slayer. Its fire sizzled in the growing rainstorm. “Does a true knight threaten a girl? Let them go and follow me to the mansion’s ancient grounds where we can fight one-on-one in a hallowed arena.”

“Oh, it’s you!” Devin grunted a contemptuous laugh. “Don’t you ever grow up, little boy?”

Elam waved the torch toward the mansion. “If I’m such a little boy, you should take my offer. Unless, of course, you’re nothing more than a yellow-bellied mama’s girl.”

Devin slapped Elam’s wrist with the flat of Excalibur’s blade, knocking the torch to the ground. He strode forward and pricked Elam’s throat with the point. “I’m not here to kill a bleeding Scotsman, but I don’t think my mistress would mind if I add your head to my collection.”

Elam’s eyebrows arched up, but his voice stayed calm. “It’s a simple concept, even for you. I’m challenging you to a duel. Are you man enough to accept?”

“Elam!” Sapphira called. “Don’t! I’ll handle him!”

Lowering his sword, Devin glared at Sapphira. “Who is this plucky blind girl?”

Elam ran over to Sapphira and put his arm around her waist. “My friend from down under. She’s always been overly confident.”

Devin bowed dramatically. “Young lady, I am bowing in honor of your fiery spirit.”

Puckering her face, Sapphira muttered under her breath. “You don’t know the half of it, you coward.”

Elam picked up his torch. “So, Devin, are you coming with me?”

After straightening his body, Devin rested Excalibur on his shoulder and snorted. “I am not here to be baited into your trap. I am merely waiting for my mistress to arrive before I skewer the mongrel.”

“Patrick!” Gabriel shouted, pointing upward. “Look!”

A huge raven flew toward them carrying a woman in its talons. As her long dress flapped in the wet breeze, she cried out, “Patrick! Help me!”

Patrick stared at her, his mouth agape and his arms and legs stiff.

Sapphira gripped the cross so tightly, it stung her palms. Suddenly, the crossbeam ignited on its own with a pale yellow blaze. She gaped at its sizzling flames and whispered, “I didn’t call for flames. Am I supposed to do something now?”

Gabriel leaped into the air and met the raven in mid-flight. With his wings beating wildly, he grabbed the bird’s throat and forced it toward the ground. “Let her go, you stupid turkey, or I’ll tear you drumstick from drumstick!”

The raven screeched and dropped the woman. Its feathery body suddenly vaporized into a column of smoke and slipped through Gabriel’s fingers. The raven’s victim slid between Patrick and Devin, and the smoke column settled over her crumpled frame. Within seconds, Morgan appeared, straddling her hostage.

Sapphira gulped. Those cheeks! That hair! It really was Paili! Sapphira shushed her cross’s fire and returned it to her belt. Maybe it was best to keep quiet and wait for a better chance to save her.

Gabriel landed next to Patrick, panting and coughing. “That bird’s more . . . more slippery than a greased eel.”

His face ablaze, Patrick jerked a handgun from his pocket, fired at Devin, then lunged toward Morgan. She spread out her arms and launched a sphere of darkness that blasted Patrick in the chest, knocking him on his back and slinging the gun far away.

Devin jerked to the side and laid his hand on his sword-bearing shoulder. Blood oozed between his fingers. He switched the sword to his other hand and charged toward Patrick. “I’ll teach you to ”

“Stop!” Morgan commanded.

Devin halted and scowled at his mistress. “Let me kill that fool, or I’ll . . .”

Spreading out her arms again, Morgan glared at him. “Or you’ll what?”

Devin lowered his sword, his eyes flaming with murder. “Beware of pushing me too far. I will not be your toy soldier.”

“You’ll be whatever I tell you to be.” Morgan swung her head toward Patrick, who had managed to push up to a sitting position. She cackled. “When you were a dragon, you might have stood a chance against me. But look at you now a wet, weak human without a prayer.”

Patrick shook his fist at her. “Get away from my wife, you monstrous hellcat.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Patrick. She’s not in danger . . . yet.” Morgan flashed a wicked smile at Sapphira. “Mara! So nice of you to come! How is living in an eternal grave suiting you?”

Sapphira crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s better than any place you stink up with your presence.”

“Pleasant as always, I see.” Morgan turned to Patrick and gave him the same devilish smile. “It was so kind of you to bring the sacrificial lamb. I expected as much.”

“Sacrificial lamb?” Patrick shot up to his feet. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, Patrick, you are such a poor liar. You knew Devin was coming, yet you allowed his young victim to stand as an easy target. You didn’t seriously think you and Elam could stop Devin and Excalibur, did you? Even your bullet hardly fazed him.”

Elam smacked his torch in his palm. “If your all-powerful slayer didn’t need any help, then why did you show up?”

“I heard that little Mara was on her way, and her power would tip the scales in your favor.” Stooping low, Morgan withdrew a dagger from her belt and pressed its edge against Paili’s throat. Her eyes opened and darted from Patrick to Elam to Sapphira, but she didn’t breathe a word.

“I have come,” Morgan continued, “to ensure that Mara doesn’t interfere. If she does, this daughter of the earth will die.”

“Daughter of the earth?” Elam repeated. “Is she a ?”

“Yes, an underborn spawn.” Morgan winked at Sapphira. “Your little Paili’s all grown up now, a mature flower ready to be plucked. If she were not an underborn, I might have tried using her as a hostiam, though I doubt that Patrick would have allowed it.”

Sapphira pointed at the dagger. “Ignite!” The hilt burst into flames. Pinning her hostage under her foot, Morgan sprang up and threw the dagger to the ground. Sapphira leaped at her and clawed at her face, but her fingers just sank into the witch’s jelly-like skin. Morgan grabbed Sapphira by the hair and slung her onto the driveway.

Sapphira skidded on the wet pavement and rolled to a stop. Too dazed to stand, she pushed her palms against the pavement and tried to crawl, but her head bumped into something solid. She blinked at the object in front of her, one of the two guardian idols. She swung her head around and saw the other idol on the opposite side of the driveway. Her vision slowly sharpened, and a feeling of calamity weighed her down. Still dazed, she looked back at Morgan. Elam and Patrick were both lying on the ground, and Devin stood over them with Excalibur poised to strike.

Morgan raised her hand. “Don’t kill them!” She snatched up her dagger and again pricked Paili’s throat with the edge. “Patrick, I know the prophecy depends on this spawn’s survival, but don’t think I won’t kill her if you and her mutant sister continue to interfere. I would find another hostiam eventually.”

Patrick and Elam struggled to their feet. Patrick clenched his teeth and shook both fists at her. “I swear to you that you will never possess my wife or any of my progeny, so help me God!”

Morgan laughed. “Such a feeble oath from a dragon who lost his armor and now uses children as his protectors!” She pressed the dagger into Paili’s skin, drawing a trickle of blood. “You have no idea how much I can make you suffer. This blade is nothing compared to the torture I have in mind for you.”

Gabriel beat his wings and slid closer to Patrick. “Don’t risk her life. I’m willing to die.”

Sapphira stumbled over to Elam. She leaned against his shoulder, hiding her lips from Morgan’s view. “Listen,” she whispered, “there’s a portal between the idols. If we can lure Devin there somehow, I can transport him out of here.”

Hiding his own lips, Elam kissed her on the forehead. “Then Morgan would kill Paili.”

Morgan pointed at Devin. “Slayer, strike the mongrel through the heart. His courage has earned him a quick death.”

Sapphira cringed. Her tortured whisper rose to a squeak. “Do you have an idea?”

“Maybe. Merlin told me something about Excalibur. It’s a long shot, but it’s better than nothing.”

With blood still oozing from his wound, Devin stalked toward Gabriel and pulled back his sword.

Elam waved his arms and dashed between Gabriel and the slayer. “Wait! It won’t work unless Patrick does it!”

The slayer paused and glanced at Morgan. “Shall I kill them both?”

“Let him explain,” Morgan said, her eyebrows lifting. “I am intrigued.”

Elam patted Gabriel on the chest. “Patrick has to kill him. It’s the only way.”

“Elam!” Patrick’s cheeks flushed scarlet. “Have you gone mad?”

“It would be mad to let him die in vain! We have to do it right or the prophecy won’t be fulfilled!” Elam glared at Morgan. “Or maybe you don’t know anything about ancient prophecies.”

Morgan nodded at him. “Please enlighten me.”

Elam laid a hand over his ear. “I once had a song in my head that kept playing over and over. It told me that I had to betray the one I loved so she could sacrifice her life for me. It said she loved me, and if I really loved her, I would turn her over to you. I didn’t believe it at the time, but now that I see a sacrifice happening right in front of me, I finally understand. The one who benefits from a sacrifice should play a part in the execution. Otherwise, the sacrifice won’t work.”

“I see what you mean.” Morgan eased the dagger’s pressure on Paili’s neck. “Betrayal has long been the instigator of redemptive sacrifice.”

“So” Elam pulled on Gabriel’s arm and began leading him toward the idols “Patrick should do the job over here, right between the idols.”

Morgan narrowed her eyes. “Why there?”

“You know why,” Sapphira said as she hustled to Elam’s side. “The ancient scrolls say that many human sacrifices were made between these idols when they stood in Shinar. What better place is there?”

“No tricks!” Morgan pressed the dagger’s edge under Paili’s nose, drawing more blood. “Or I’ll carve this pretty little face like a pumpkin on Halloween.”

Sapphira shuddered. Her voice pitched up again as she shook her head. “No. . . . No tricks.”

Gabriel pulled the rubellite pendant from underneath his shirt and let it dangle in front. “Let’s do it and get it over with.”

Morgan nodded at Devin. “Give Excalibur to Patrick.”

“After he dispatches the mongrel,” Devin said, glowering at her, “he will turn the sword on me.”

“You fool! Haven’t you figured out that he is paralyzed while I hold his beloved at the edge of a blade?”

Devin grumbled and laid Excalibur in Patrick’s hands. As soon as Patrick wrapped his fingers around the hilt, its beam shot out from the tip. Patrick’s eyes bulged, and Devin jumped back.

A smile spread across Morgan’s face. “Ah! The king’s heir reveals his pedigree.”

His arms trembling, Patrick frowned at the sword. “And now he wields it in shame.”

“Get on with it!” Morgan shouted. “Disintegration will be clean and quick.”

With his shoulders slumped and the beam angled toward the sky, Patrick marched slowly to the driveway.

Elam nudged Sapphira and whispered, “Light your cross, but try not to let Morgan see it.”

Now standing about ten paces in front of Gabriel, Patrick raised the beam straight up. When Morgan’s eyes lifted to follow the brilliant shaft of light, Sapphira slid the cross out and whispered, “Give me light.” A low flame rippled across the wood.

Patrick swiped the beam downward but halted it just above Gabriel’s head. His face twisted in agony. “I can’t do it!” he cried. “I just can’t do it!”

“Do it now!” Morgan screamed. “Or I will slice your wife into pieces!”

“Patrick!” Gabriel extended his folded hands, his face pleading. “In the name of all that is holy, don’t let that witch hurt your wife! Strike me down! Better you than the slayer!”

Patrick’s stare burned into Sapphira’s. Tears flowed down his cheeks. “What do you two say?”

Sapphira wiped away her own tears. “You have to, Patrick. We all agree.”

“Trust us,” Elam said, nodding. “You have to do it now, before Morgan sheds any more of Paili’s blood.”

Patrick tensed his muscles and swung the sword the rest of the way. The beam sizzled through Gabriel, and he dissolved into a column of sparks.

Elam barked a low whisper. “Now, Sapphira!”

Sapphira waved the cross in a broad circle over her head. A wall of flames began edging downward from her hand, wide enough to envelop herself, Elam, and Gabriel’s field of sparks. The rubellite pendant floated in midair and absorbed Gabriel’s energy along with a stream of flames from the wall.

“Elam!” Sapphira shouted. “What’s happening to Gabriel?”

“I don’t know! Maybe he’ll be okay on the other side!”

Sapphira peeked through the vortex of flames. The fiery stream rushing into the rubellite suddenly reversed and spewed out in a lightning streak of dazzling crimson. The cross’s wall of fire shattered into a million jagged pieces and crumbled away.