Read Eye of the Oracle Online

Authors: Bryan Davis

Tags: #Fantasy

Eye of the Oracle (46 page)

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.

Chapter 5

The Guardian Angel

When the pieces from the fiery vortex cleared from view, Sapphira dropped to her knees, exhausted. Lifting her head slowly, she peeked up at the surrounding shadows. Two human figures stood next to her, alive and well. One unfurled a set of beautiful dragon wings.

Sapphira leaped up and hugged Gabriel. “You’re alive!”

“I guess I am,” Gabriel said, patting his torso. “What happened?”

Elam clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. “Merlin told me that Excalibur’s beam doesn’t necessarily kill; it just changes physical matter into light energy. I was hoping Sapphira could bring you through to this dimension, but I didn’t know you would be physical again. Looks like it worked better than I expected.”

“Your plan was brilliant!” Sapphira tucked her cross into her waistband and hugged Elam. “It’s so good to be with you again!”

“Brilliant, yes, but did we fulfill the prophecy?” Gabriel slashed his finger across his throat. “Will Morgan believe that I’m dead?”

“I think she will.” Elam caressed Sapphira’s cheek and pulled away. “It looked like you dissolved before everything disappeared.”

“I guess we can hope so.” Gabriel kicked at the ferns at his feet. “So where in the world are we?”

Elam crouched and peered down a narrow path that wound through the forest. “We’re probably in another dimension, but I’m not sure which one. I’ve never seen this place before.”

Sapphira plucked a fern leaflet and twirled it in her fingers as she studied the landscape nothing but tall trees and dense undergrowth as far as the eye could see. “I was in a place like this, but I don’t think I’ve been to this exact spot.”

Gabriel grabbed a thick vine hanging over his head and pulled it down to eye level. “The trees look sort of like the ones I saw through the portal window at the back of Patrick’s mansion.”

“So,” Elam said, scratching the ground with a stick, “if the window leads to this dimension, Sapphira can find where it comes out here and get us to Patrick’s house. Then we’ll sneak back to the idols.” He looked up at Sapphira. “What do you think?”

“It’s better than popping right into Devin’s clutches.” Sapphira dropped her leaflet and picked up a long stick. “We’d better hurry. If Morgan’s not convinced that Gabriel’s dead, then Patrick and Paili are both in trouble.”

“Wait! What’s this?” Elam pushed his stick under a chain and picked up a dangling pendant. A dim glow emanated from the gem in the center. “Looks like the rubellite came through with us.”

“Super! I was worried Morgan would find it.” Gabriel took the chain and draped it around his neck. “Any idea why it’s lit up?”

Elam and Sapphira both shook their heads.

Gabriel peered at the gem for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, which way do we go?”

Sapphira pointed her stick at a massive trunk. “If we’re still near the idols, then in the world of the living, the mansion would be over there, past that big tree, so I’ll head in that direction.”

Gabriel beat his wings and leaped into the air. “I’ll check out what’s ahead.” He zipped up through the trees, deftly avoiding every branch. Soon, he was circling high above.

Sapphira strode ahead, slashing ferns with her stick and hopping over protruding roots. Now that she had stepped out of the portal, her vision had faded to normal, so she kept her gaze on the ground and studied the passing leaflets and tufts of thick-bladed grass, hoping to see them suddenly magnify.

After guessing the approximate location of the mansion’s portal room, she marched through the jungle-like undergrowth. She counted fifty paces, then, shifting a few feet to the side, she marched right back. Dodging tree trunks and ducking under low-hanging vines, she kept watch for a change in her vision or a plunge in her mood.

Elam scurried in front, tossing aside sticks and warning her of stones and roots. He suddenly halted. “Look at this!” he called, picking up a long white rod. “It’s a bone of some kind!” He leaped ahead and stooped. “A whole skeleton!”

Sapphira raced toward Elam and crouched at his side. As she laid her hand on the bony remains of an unfortunate human, her vision clarified. The eye sockets in the skull widened, and its gaping mouth seemed to pour out a silent scream.

A gust of wind and a flapping sound announced Gabriel’s return. He settled to the ground next to Sapphira. “What did you find?”

“A skeleton.” She dropped her stick and fingered the tattered clothing that still clung to the ivory ribs. “We’re at the portal. Maybe this poor guy was trying to get through it somehow.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Elam straightened and swiveled his head from side to side. “This place is spookier than any dimension I’ve ever been in.”

Sapphira stood with him and pulled out her cross. “Gather together.”

Gabriel extended a wing and draped it around Elam and Sapphira. “Okay. Let’s see what happens.”

Sapphira lit the cross and circled it over her head. The familiar cylinder of flames encircled them, and the forest scene vanished. Seconds later, Sapphira fell through a flexible wall of thick material and tumbled to a hard floor. After dousing the cross, she grasped the material and pulled herself up, drawing it to the side as she rose. “A curtain,” she whispered.

“The portal covering,” a hoarse voice replied.

Sapphira searched for the source of the voice. Darkness obscured a human figure nearby. She raised the cross again and commanded light. A gentle flame rippled across the wood, illuminating Elam’s reddened cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Gabriel’s not here. He must not have made it through.”

“How can that be? The fire surrounded all of us.” Sapphira raised the cross higher. “More light, please.” Instantly, a new surge of flames brightened the room. Just beyond Elam, an eerie profile glittered, like crystals reflecting sunlight. The silhouette of a winged boy moved, more like a shining ghost than a living human.

Sapphira clapped her hand over her mouth and spoke between her fingers. “Gabriel!”

Elam pivoted. “Where?”

Sapphira crept toward Gabriel’s sparkling frame. He extended his hands as if trying to communicate, but no sound emanated from his radiant face.

She moved the cross closer to his body. “Look. He’s trying to say something.”

Elam spread out his arms. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

She reached out and touched one of Gabriel’s glowing hands. “He’s right here. I guess my vision is sharper than yours.”

Elam laid his hand on top of Sapphira’s. “He must still be disintegrated in this dimension.”

Sapphira closed her eyes, and the portal’s soul-sinking influence weighed down her mind. “Will he die?”

“I don’t know.” Elam pointed at the window. “Can we send him back in there?”

As a flood of pure sadness drowned her spirit, Sapphira could only shake her head. “He doesn’t want to go.”

“How do you know?” Elam asked. “Is he speaking to you?”

Sapphira shuddered, trying to fight off the gloom. “In a way. It’s like a stream of thoughts or feelings. He says he doesn’t want to be trapped in there.”

“He’d rather be out here without a body?”

“He says he planned to sacrifice himself to fulfill the prophecy, so he’ll just wait to see what happens. It’s better than being trapped all alone in the world of the dead.” Sapphira spied something on the floor. The pendant! She scooped it up and showed it to Elam. “It came back through with Gabriel, but it stayed physical. And the gem’s white now.”

“How could that be?” Elam touched the gem with his fingertip. “It’s still glowing.”

Sapphira drew her fist close to her mouth and bit her thumb. “We . . . we have to get outside and see if we can help Patrick and Paili, but we can’t just leave Gabriel here!”

Elam took the chain from Sapphira and draped it around his neck. “We don’t have much choice.” He took a step and stood between her and Gabriel. “I guess you’re in front of me somewhere, and I hope you can hear me. We’ll try to come back with Patrick as soon as we can. Maybe he can figure out what’s going on.”

Elam took Sapphira’s hand. “Come on.” With the fire of the cross lighting the way, they dashed out of the room, sprinted through the maze of corridors, and burst out the front doorway into a drenching downpour. Sapphira extinguished the cross and tiptoed behind Elam as he crept toward a rhododendron shrub. Hunching over, they both peered through the breaks in its foliage. The pounding rain smothered every other sound.

Across a wide expanse of grass, Paili knelt on the driveway, cradling Patrick in her arms. Morgan and Devin were nowhere in sight.

“Let’s go!” Elam whispered. He leaped out into the open and sprinted toward Paili. Sapphira followed, her bare feet splashing through the squishy lawn. As they approached, Paili looked up. Pain warped her face, and a trickle of blood oozed from under her nose and dripped onto her lips.

Elam fell to his knees at Patrick’s side. “Is he . . .” He swallowed hard, unable to finish.

Paili shook her head. As tears and raindrops poured down her cheeks, her pain-streaked voice barely penetrated the wall of rain. “He’s . . . alive. I think . . . he’s asleep.”

“Asleep?” Sapphira knelt next to Paili and clasped her hand. “What happened?”

“You disappeared.” Paili nodded toward the idols. “Then a stream of red fire came out from your flames and . . .” She mopped her brow with her trembling fingers. “And it went right into Patrick’s chest. He lit up for a few seconds and then fell to the ground.”

Sapphira pushed Paili’s hair out of her eyes. “What happened to Morgan and Devin? Where did they go?”

Paili took a deep breath. “Morgan picked up the sword and said, ‘Only one more step on my stairway to heaven,’ and they both disappeared in a puff of smoke.”

April, 1949

Holding a dim lantern at his side, Elam tiptoed into the ancient chamber at the back of Patrick’s mansion. As he neared the central table, the lantern’s weak flame twirled in the cool draft descending from the hole in the roof, giving just enough light to cast a glow over a figure sitting in a high-backed chair. Patrick’s crumpled outline hunched over the table, his head buried in his arms. Elam reached to touch Patrick’s shoulder, but just before his fingers alighted, Patrick lifted his head.

Elam backed away a step, his voice low. “Sorry. I just wanted to check on you.”

Patrick’s lips spread out in a frail smile. “You heard the news, I assume?”

“Yes,” Elam replied, his tone like the gong of a death knell. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Patrick’s smile abated. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Morgan will wait until the child is older, perhaps a teenager, before she makes her move, but we have to begin preparations now. Of course, we’re assuming the baby will be a girl, but I have little doubt.”

Elam pressed his palm against his chest. “Just let me know what to do. I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Of that, I am certain.” Patrick’s gaze wandered, finally settling on the lantern in Elam’s hand. “We will have to be extremely creative if we wish to fool Morgan. In order to keep her searching elsewhere, I’ll begin spreading the news that my cousin Stanley will take over the orphanage, and my cohorts will plant stories of Patrick Nathanson, his wife, and Elam moving to various towns in England. Paili and I will change our names and relocate to another house, but we’ll likely stay near Glastonbury so Paili can keep track of the children.”

Elam watched the lantern’s flame waltz in Patrick’s eyes. “So Stanley will take care of them?”

“Yes. He is not my natural cousin, of course, but I adopted his last name after becoming good friends with his family. In any case, he and his wife will move into this house. They have four children of their own, so they are well versed in the practice of child rearing.”

Elam pulled out a chair and sat next to Patrick. “Do you want me to stay here and help? I know this place inside and out.”

“I was hoping you would volunteer.” Patrick clasped Elam’s shoulder. “I’m sure Paili would be comforted knowing you’re here. Since Morgan has her evil intentions set on our child, I don’t think she will bother you.”

“True,” Elam said, setting the lantern on the table, “but I wouldn’t mind changing my name, at least to use for business matters. Elam isn’t exactly common anymore.”

“Certainly. Do you have a preference?”

Elam folded his hands on the table and pressed his thumbs together. “My shipyard manager in Glasgow died to save my life. I’d like to take his name.”

“You would do well to honor him that way. What was his name?”

“Markus.” Elam patted his chest. “I even have a shirt with Markus embroidered on it, so I’ll wear it when I’m in public.”

“Well, then, Markus,” Patrick said, clasping Elam’s shoulder again, “I hope you live as many years with that name as you’ve lived with your previous one.”

Elam adjusted the lantern to expose more of the wick. “What will your name be?”

Patrick folded his hands next to Elam’s. “I chose Robert. It’s a simple name that won’t raise eyebrows. We can’t use Ruth any longer, and Paili couldn’t decide on a new name, so I chose Sarah for her.”

“Sarah? Why Sarah?”

“It was Merlin’s wife’s name. Merlin seemed to die inside when Morgan poisoned his wife, so I wish to honor them by resurrecting her memory. It’s a small token, but it’s meaningful to me.”

“I understand.” Elam leaned back in his chair and sighed. Pain and sorrow had visited the homes of prophets and dragons all too often Merlin’s lost wife, murdered dragons, a threatened pregnant mother and unborn daughter, and now he had to raise another troubling issue that promised more heartache. Elam drummed his fingers on the table. “I met with Sapphira today.”

Patrick’s gaze seemed locked on his folded hands. “You did?” His reply was halfhearted, as if he hadn’t heard Elam’s comment.

Elam pushed the lantern closer to Patrick, trying to awaken his attention. “She saw Gabriel.”

Patrick lifted his head higher. His eyes seemed to flash with a burst of hope. “She saw Gabriel?”

“Well, she didn’t really see him face-to-face.” Elam positioned his fingers to make a frame. “It’s really weird. There’s this portal where she lives. While I had the Ovulum, Sapphira’s portal stretched into a viewing screen, and she could watch me through it. Then, after Devin broke the Ovulum, the screen disappeared. But now the screen is back, and she can see glimpses of Gabriel’s feet and hands and sometimes the tips of his wings.”

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