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‘Jake.

‘Jake Tranton.’

He opened his eyes.  A bearded face was looking
down at him.  It seemed strangely familiar.

‘Jake?’

But Jake Tranton was dead.  He was Adam. 
But Adam WAS Jake Tranton and Jake Tranton had lived out his entire life as
Adam until he died.

‘Jake.  It’s me, Faivish.’

Faivish?  But that was impossible.  Had he
imagined everything?  Were they still back at the village?  Had they never set
out for the Haham?

‘Faivish?’

‘Oh, Jake.  I feared that you would never
wake up.’

Jake tried to sit up but he felt so weak.

‘No, no.  Stay where you are.  You’ve been
sleeping for several days.  I’ll get you a drink.  You’ll feel better
afterwards.’

‘No, wait,’ but it only came out as a
whisper.  Faivish could barely hear him.  ‘Faivish!’

The two-headed man turned around.

‘Calm down.  Everything will be all
right.’

‘But, where are we?’

‘We’re on the Haham’s island.’

‘But, how?’

‘I found you on the shore.  You were
washed up by the tide.’

‘But, that’s already happened.’

‘Ah.  The waters of forgetfulness.  They
can play strange tricks on the mind.  What do you remember?’

‘You mean it was all a dream?’

‘Or a vision.  Tell me.’

‘But, but...’

‘All right my friend.  I’ll get you some
food and a drink, then we’ll talk.  You’re still very weak after your
experience.  It’s not everyone who returns from the dead you know.’

As Faivish left through the rough wooden
door Jake managed to lever himself upright and was able to take note of his
surroundings for the first time.  The room was so familiar.  He was lying on
the mattress, and the only other furniture was a low bedside cabinet and a
chest.  This was exactly the same cell in which he had resided throughout his
life at the Haham’s
yeshiva.
  So, it had to be more than a dream.  A
vision, Faivish called it.  A vision of what?  Of the future or of some
alternative life that in this reality had never happened?

It was so clear.  He remembered
everything.  He had arrived with a clean mind and over the ensuing years he had
learnt so much from the Haham.  He knew all about the seven Earths and the
seven Heavens.  He knew all about the divine Light of the Shechinah that the
Holy One Blessed Be He had put away for the righteous in the world to come and
he knew that the Light could be harnessed by a High Priest of the House of
Israel.  Jake also knew that he was that High Priest and that it was his great
mission to ensure that the Light be returned to its heavenly home since it had
been released three centuries before.

The key was the
Choshen Mishpat
,
the Breastplate of Judgement, and the twelve stones of the
Urim
and
Tumim
that were mounted within it.  To complete his mission he had to find those
stones and he knew exactly where they were and how to find them.

All this he had learnt during that other
life and now he discovered that that life was not his.  How was it possible?

But what of his own life?

Jake tried to recall his life on the Earth
called Heled and then he knew that he truly had been affected by the waters of
the Lake of Forgetfulness.  There was just one large emptiness where the
memories should have been but there was something else, something tangible.  It
was a pit, a deep dark pit, and it contained a secret so terrible that he was
not even certain that it was one he wished to learn.  Why then was he
confronted by the sudden thought that the secret was an essential part of completing
his mission?

At that moment Faivish returned bearing a
tray laden with cake and drink.

‘You’re up.  How do you feel?’

‘Confused.  Tired.’

‘That’s to be expected.  The Haham wants
to see you as soon as you’re up to it.’

The Haham?  It was to see him that they
had made the journey from Faivish’s village.  If he could remember that why
could he not recall how he had come to be in this world?

‘Faivish?’

‘Yes?’

‘What do you know of me?’

‘Very little.  You have journeyed from
Heled.  You carry one of the Holy stones on your ring and you are searching for
two others from your world.’

Three facts, three things he could focus
upon.

Yes, he knew that he was from Heled and he
glanced down upon his ring.  Was there not a second stone?  Did he not carry
another of them?  He reached into the pockets of his so almost familiar clothes
and retrieved a ruby red crystal.  It was cut similarly to the stone in his
ring but it was not one of the twelve Holy stones.  It bore no Hebrew
inscription.  He knew that.  So, why was he carrying it?  From where had it
come?

A ruse?  Was that it?  Did he plan to use
the fake crystal to confound someone?  But who?

‘You said I was chasing others from
Heled?’

‘Yes, a woman called Cherry.  She seemed
to mean something to you.’

Cherry.  The name did seem familiar and
Jake had an instant feeling of goodness.  What was she?  A lover?  A wife?  Why
could he not remember?

‘And the other?’

‘A man.  You talked of him as if he was
your enemy.’

‘But, did I not say his name?’

Faivish shook his head.

And, as Jake pondered, vague images
appeared.  He could see the girl Cherry or the girl he thought Cherry must have
been.  She was attractive or, at least, he felt he was attracted to her.  She
was being taken at gun-point by a man.  Who was he?  Why the feelings of hatred
for him?  Mitch.  His name was Mitch.  Mitch was his enemy.

And there was something else.  Something
that hid a part of itself within this Mitch.  It was dark, it was evil, and it
was something that he had learned about during his lifetime with the Haham. 
The primordial consciousness that needed the Divine Light to become alive. 
Until then it would take the energy it required from living people who could
become its tools.  Jake knew this creature and it knew him.  This then was his
ultimate enemy.

Jake could feel it instinctively.  It was
his task to frustrate the creature’s plans and return it to the limbo from
which it had escaped.  To do that, however, he needed the entire Breastplate. 
All he had was one of the stones.  Six were now in Heled and the remainder
divided between the last three Earths.  Three were in the Arka, the place of
dead souls, and the two that remained were located in Adamah and the Eretz
respectively.  He even knew how to make the journey and he could feel a
compulsion to do so.

Which was when another realisation came to
him.  A vision of something undefined together with a sensation of trauma.  It
was to do with his mission but it was rooted within his self.  He tried to
grasp hold of the thought but it was buried too deep.  If only he could
remember his past.  But it was locked away amongst all the memories hidden by
the waters of forgetfulness.

‘All right, Faivish.  I’m ready.  Take me
to the Haham.’

Still feeling weak but somewhat nourished
by the foods he had been given Jake stood and followed his friend down a cold
stone passageway.  As dungeon-like as the place was it was still so familiar. 
His dream seemed more real to him than reality itself.

He had to face it.  Something had happened
to him during those days between the time he had been thrown into the lake and
now.  It was something wonderful, something that could only happen in a fairy
story, but the result was that he was a different person to the Jake Tranton
who had crossed into this world from the place called Heled.

And then they passed through a doorway
into the room that Jake well remembered as the Haham’s sanctum, the room that
doubled at this building’s synagogue, and there, sitting on one of the thrones,
was the Haham.  It came as no surprise to find that he was just the same as
Jake had imagined him.

It was with a most beatific smile on both
his faces that the Haham looked down on Jake.

‘Adam,’ he said, almost laughing, ‘I am
glad that you have returned to us.’

Jake could hardly believe what he was
hearing.  He did not know what to say.  Adam?  How possibly could the Haham
know of his dream?  It made no sense at all.

‘Come.  We have studied together, you and
I.  There is no reason to stand there gaping at me like a fish, is there?’

‘But, but that’s impossible...’

‘Oh, Adam of Heled, you have spent a
lifetime learning from me but you are still bound by the prejudices of your
world.  Time in Heled is governed by rules that do not apply here.’

Jake shook his head in confusion.  It was
useless to discuss the matter further.  Somehow, he had managed to live twice. 
He would just have to accept that.

‘So.  Are you ready?  You know what you
have to do.’

‘Yes, but I have still forgotten much.’

‘I know, but in time you will remember it
all.  You have changed in ways that you can barely comprehend.  It is necessary
that you learn to find your true self.  Only then will you become reconciled to
your past and be whole again.

‘I can tell you this.  In your journey you
will have to enter the dark world of the Arka.  You will have to descend
through depths that no living man can withstand without knowledge.  In that
world you will encounter many obstacles but most dangerous of all is your own
past.  Only when you understand and conquer the fear of Jacob Tranton will you
be able to emerge triumphant.’

‘The fear?  What fear?’

‘I cannot tell you.  It is something that
you must learn for yourself.  Only then can you have any hope of confronting it
and defeating it.  It is within you now.  Unbeknown to your past self it has
eaten into you and has been the cause of distress to those that were closest to
you.’

‘Who?’

‘Do not ask me.  You must learn for
yourself.  In your studies with me you have learnt how to defeat most enemies
that you will face.  That is the only help I can give you.

‘Now, my son, you must go.  May the Holy
One Blessed Be He go with you.  There are clothes here that are suitable for
your journey and much that can be of assistance.  You may take anything you
wish.’

Jake bowed low in deference to the great
sage before him and then he turned to Faivish.  He looked at his companion
sadly.

‘Thank you for your help.  It is now we
shall part.’

‘No, why?  I will come with you.’

‘It is dangerous.’

‘I know, but what have I to return to?  My
village is destroyed, Daivish is dead.  I beg of you.  Let me accompany you,
please.’

Jake nodded, smiling.  It would be good to
have the company.

‘All right, my friend.  Let us make our
preparations.  Come.’

Cherry could hardly believe it. 

They had been journeying together for five
whole days and in that time she found that Mitch seemed to be subject to such
swings of moods that she almost thought that there were two quite distinct
personalities within him.  There was the angry man who had brought her into
this world; out for revenge against those he saw as having betrayed him, but
there was another side to his character.  At times he would seem calm,
calculating, almost clinical in his attitudes.

Of the two she almost preferred his
emotional persona.  At least that was human and, in some ways, it reminded her
of herself (or rather the person she had become after...after.  No even now she
could not bring herself to think of it).  The other Mitch...it was something
alien.  It tolerated her presence but in a most grudging way.  It seemed to
have purpose whereas the volatile man full of hatred was liable to hit her in
frustration as much as anything.  She still smarted from the bruisings he had
given her.  There was nothing she could do, however.  Mitch would react to
provocation so quickly and she found it almost too easy to provoke him.  In any
case, it was only the cold, unemotional one who had any clue as to where they
were going and she had to rely on that knowledge if she was ever to return to
her home.

Also, she had to remember, it was entirely
down to Mitch that they had survived at all.  He had used his gun to kill small
animals for food and seemed quite proficient at identifying which plants and
shrubs were safe to eat.  Water, thank goodness, was in plentiful supply; cool
and refreshing whatever the temperature of the surrounding air.  This world was
a marvel.  The mythical paradise from which man had been expelled.

In so many ways it was the same as Earth. 
The sun rose in the East and set in the West.  At night a familiar moon shone
down and stars twinkled in their usual constellations.  It was the flora and
fauna, however; that told her that this was not her world.  And then there was
the weather.  It always seemed to be just right.  Not too hot and not too
cold.  Rain fell but never so much as to cause real discomfort.

That was not to say that there were no
storms.  They had heard one the day after they had left Faivish’s village but
it did not trouble them in the slightest.

She thought fondly of the strange,
argumentative, two-headed fellow that Mitch had so callously shot.  She had
seen for herself the disgusting carnage that had been wrought upon the others
of his village.

Images of death and destruction haunted
her but so had they always.  It was the holocaust all over again.  The
destruction of an entire race.  She had photographs all over her studio walls
of the scenes at the Nazi crematoria and she had always identified with
Hitler’s victims.

Somehow she seemed inured to the
violence.  No, it was something more than that.  There was a part of her that
welcomed it, demanded it even.  Maybe that was why Mitch was so easily provoked
into violence.  Could it be that a part of her was goading him?  Was that too
ridiculous to contemplate?

She touched her cheek, still red from the
last slap he had given her less than half an hour before.

‘I’ll kill him.’

He had been referring as always to Lapski.

‘That’s your answer to everything.  Use
of the gun.

‘It was your own fault, wasn’t it?’

‘Shut up, bitch.’

‘No, you creep.  No-one told you to
join with his plans.  It was your own vanity and inflated ego that...’

‘I said, shut up.’

‘Or, what?  Can’t stand the truth. 
You’re nothing just a...’

And then came the stinging blow across the
face.  She could have listened to his moaning, could have shown some sympathy,
but no.  She had chosen to provoke him.

And then there was the other one.

A theory had slowly been gaining weight in
her mind.  It was something almost too horrible to contemplate.  The second,
the alien, persona that Mitch was evidencing, could that have been the cause of
the massacre?  There was no way that she could find out.  All she could do was
to hope that if she was right then she would be far away the next time the
creature revealed itself in all its lust for blood.  And she was risking
awakening the thing by her taunting.  She had to be crazy.  What was it; that
she had a death wish or something?

Now she had a new problem and it was quite
unrelated to Mitch.

Since his last outburst he was quiet,
morose, taciturn.  Thank God; it was the human side that was showing.  She
could not have faced the other at that moment.  Only the human could understand
her fears and she knew that she had to speak.  He had to know what was
bothering her.

‘Mitch?’

‘What?’ he demanded, unpleasantly as ever.

‘I don’t think we’re alone.’

‘Do me a favour.  Of course we’re fucking
alone.  There’s hardly been any sign of life since...’

‘No, Mitch.  Just listen to someone else
for a change.’

(Damn.  She was doing it again.  She had
to keep her temper.)

‘Sorry.

‘We’re being watched; I’m sure of it.’

‘Watched?  Watched by who?  We’ve avoided
every human habitation we’ve gone near.  No-one knows we’re here.’

‘I know, but I’m certain of it.  It’s just
a feeling.  I don’t know.’

‘Look, bitch.  There’s no one here.  The
only inhabitants are ignorant and peaceful peasants.  There’s no one else. 
Your imagination is getting the better of you.’

Cherry shook her head.  Something was out
there stalking them.  It had an odour; she had smelled it a few times.  It was
like sulphur but sulphur that had been mixed with something sweet, like honey
maybe.  Sometimes it was before them and sometimes behind.  Almost as if they
were being circled.  The only other indication of its presence was the sense of
foreboding that she was experiencing.

Maybe it really was the thing that
possessed her companion.  Maybe it was watching them.  If it was part of Mitch
that would be why he could not scent it.  But no, Cherry had not convinced
herself of it.  Whatever the watcher was it was quite outside of them.

A cool wind began to blow, very gently,
but it seemed to be the precursor to a change from the mild weather.  Up above
a few puffballs of white cloud were rolling towards them through the otherwise
clear sky.

‘There could be a storm coming.’

‘Rubbish, woman.  You’re talking through
your arse.  There are no storms here.’

‘But we saw one.  Surely, you can remember
that.’

‘Of course I bloody remember it but it was
in the distance.  It didn’t come near us.  Stop being ridiculous.’

The wind force increased.

There was a definite chill in the air.

‘Mitch?’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, what is it now?’

‘Look at the sky.  It’s clouding over.’

And indeed it was but the clouds were
building in a way that was unlike any pattern that Cherry had experienced.  She
shuddered at the thought of it but she had a sense that they were forming
together with a purpose.  As if something was directing them.

The worst of it was the colour.

Yellow and acrid like the build-up of smog
from effluent spewed out by the great chimneys of Victorian factories.

How could such a thing be natural?

And this time Mitch sniffed the air.

‘You’re right.  I don’t like this.  Let’s
move.’

Cherry did not need any further urging but
where was there to go?  In all directions all she could see was the same rural
landscape.  Grass one way, trees another.  There was no obvious sign of
shelter.  Mitch, however, had some sense of where he was going and he forged
ahead.  All Cherry could do was follow.

The sky opened and torrential rain poured
down upon them like a blanket.

Cold, wet and miserable, Cherry plodded
after her companion, praying that Mitch knew where shelter could be found.  She
tried to call to him but it was impossible against the incredible cacophony of
the cascading water.

‘Mitch.’

But there was no reply and he just moved
ahead faster.

‘Mitch, wait.’

But it was no good.  What was it with
him?  He did not seem to care one way or another if she was following or not.

The gap between them was growing.

The power of the rain was strengthening.

Cherry fought against its driving force
but there was nothing that she could do.

The ground underfoot was turning to mush.

Her feet were slipping.  There was no
purchase.

Cherry could fight no longer.  She stopped
and felt her feet sinking into the slimy, muddy, soil.  Mitch did not look back
once.

Standing there; desperate, water pouring
through her hair, streaming down her face; her clothes clinging to her skin;
Cherry heard the howling.

At first she thought it was the wind that
was whipping up around her but then she knew that it was not.  Like a pack of
wolves in pain, the creatures bellowed their battle cry and Cherry knew that
those that had been watching her now approached and that she was their prey.

‘Mitch.’

The bastard was long gone.

The rain seemed to ease about her and
Cherry looked around.  It was true; she was in the epicentre of the storm.  In
all directions the wind raged, the gale seethed in its furious temper but she
was standing within an island of calm.

She pulled herself from the drying mud and
shivered, not with cold but with something else.  A dark, brooding apprehension
that warned her of unknown terrors ahead.

She wished she knew what was out there. 
For a moment she even longed for the familiarity of the entity that she was
convinced possessed Mitch.  Even that was preferable to this waiting for
something whose presence was tangible but so far unseen.

The crack of a whip.

A crash of thunder.

Instant lightning illuminating everything
in weird shades of blue and in that brightness Cherry saw eyes; crimson and
evil; hundreds of pairs of eyes that surrounded her.  The actual creatures,
however, remained shrouded and indistinct.  Just misaligned monstrosities that
seemed to be completely out of place in this magical world.

There was nothing she could do.  She was
trapped.

Tense and anxious, Cherry waited.

A low murmuring filled the air.

The things were communicating in some
unfathomable language but still they did not appear.

‘Please.’

If only she knew what she was facing.

A sudden breeze as heavy wings beat
furiously and Cherry stared into the blackness of the storm tossed-world.

Something was coming nearer.

A huge bird?

Talons ready.  A beak ready to lunge.

A giant bat?

Leathery wings, claws and fangs; a sucker
of human blood.

Why did she have to think of that?

And deep red eyes stared into her own.

Cherry could not resist.  They dominated
her mind.  They stole her thoughts.  They controlled her ego.

……………………………………

‘Welcome.’

The voice was silky, divine.  The voice of
a siren.  Deep and passionate.

Cherry looked up and saw the woman.  She
was beautiful.  A face, white like bone china.  Lips, deep and as red as
blood.  Hair, long, straight and ebony.  She wore the flimsiest of grey dresses
that displayed a perfect figure completely.

Her eyes were black like the deepest
wells.

‘My daughter.  You have come home.’

Cherry knew that she had to marshal her
thoughts.  Something was wrong but she found it impossible to focus her mind.

‘Home.’

‘Yes, my child.  Come into my arms.’

No.  She had to fight back.  This being
was evil; she was certain of it.

‘Please, do not resist me.  There is no
point.  My children are awaiting you to join their number.  It is a long time
since one of Heled became mine.  Now it is time.’

And the dark beauty lifted her arms and
opened them wide.  Cherry could not help herself.  She had to follow the call
and she entered the embrace.

The woman felt cold, like death, but
Cherry belonged.

The ruby lips met hers and she opened her
mouth.

There was no more thought.  This was her
mother.

And she was released by the woman.

With eyes of adulation Cherry looked at
the beauty.

‘Who are you,’ she whispered reverently
but somehow she almost knew the answer.

‘I am Lilith.  You are mine now.  Find the
man who is the High Priest of Israel and bring him to me.

‘You know what to do.’

‘I do.’

‘Then go and let me complete my revenge on
the being called Adam.  Mankind.’

And Lilith laughed.