by Teri Barnett
Chapter 13
Bethany took Zachariah’s hands into hers. “I’ll return with Connor as soon as we find Sarah.” She deposited a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for your help.”
Zachariah chuckled, nodding in the direction Connor had walked a moment before. Connor stood apart from them, studying a painting that had been incised into the wall. “You’ll have your hands full with that one.”
“I know,” Bethany whispered. “May the Mother of All grant me the strength to see this through.”
“She already has, Bethany M’Doro.” Zachariah smiled and took her by the arm, guiding her to the place where she had entered the portal. “Come along, now, Mr. Jessup,” he called over his shoulder.
Connor took his time walking, all the while scrutinizing the sights around him—from the gemstone encrusted walls to the heavily patterned floors to the high pyramidal ceiling. To Bethany it seemed as though he wanted to imprint every detail into this memory.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He took a deep breath as the walls of stone on the other side of the opal haze before them began to part. Bethany started to walk through, but he stopped her. “Wait a minute.” Connor pulled the flask from his boot once again and drained the contents. He handed the empty silver container to Zachariah. “For you. It was made from Nevada silver by a friend of mine, Jimmy Brown Eagle.”
“Perhaps you should keep it then,” Zachariah said, turning the item over in his hand. The details of applied conchos and turquoise were beautiful.
“No, I want you to have it. You can add it to your art collection here. Jimmy’d be proud for you to have it to show.”
Zachariah nodded. “Thank you, Connor Jessup.”
“Don’t mention it.” Connor turned to Bethany. “Well, Angel, lead me to the Promised Land.”
Bethany looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Promised Land? Would she ever be able to understand what he was talking about? She shook her head. “Follow me,” she said, walking ahead of Connor through the passage to Keilah.
“Whoa-what was that?” Connor froze just past the threshold, a deep vibration running through his body.
“It’s from moving through the continuum, a reaction by the essences of your body,” she said.
Connor looked at Bethany. The sun was behind her, casting a golden halo all around her entire being. He sucked in his breath.
Bethany pushed the long shimmery curls away from her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
Connor’s eyes locked with Bethany’s. She was right about her “knowing” as she called it. When she looked into his eyes, it shook him to his core.
“I can heal you, Connor Jessup, if you’ll let me,” she whispered.
He studied the rocky countryside that lay before him. “You know, this place doesn’t look a whole lot different than where I come from. The desert here runs straight up to the mountains and the land is as dry as any I’ve ever seen.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah, I heard you. My Daddy said he could heal, too.” He started to walk. “Sorry, but I’m not buying much of it.”
Bethany fell into step beside him. “What bitterness is this that you feel for your father? Can you explain it to me?”
Connor snorted. “Daddy was a tent preacher. We traveled from one side of the Mississippi to the other. His special talent was ‘healing.’ Mama and me, we’d sneak into the back of the tent and sit with the crowd. When he was ready to do his show, he’d ask if there were anyone who needed help. Well, Mama and me, we’d run up there as fast as we could.”
“Were you and she sick?”
“No, no. You see, we’d just go on up there, before anyone else. Then, he’d make like he was curing us—calling on the power of the spirit and all. People would follow along, giving Daddy money to make them feel better.”
“Are you saying your father was a healer or not?” Bethany asked, confused.
“Oh, I guess you could say he was. At least, that’s what he told everybody who had a nickel to spend.”
“I’m sorry, I still don’t understand.”
“No, I guess you wouldn’t, being an angel and all. You probably can’t imagine someone lying to folks. Telling them he’ll cure their body and soul, then taking every last bit of money they had. He’d leave them with nothing, not even enough coin to feed themselves.” He stopped walking and reached into his breast pocket. Connor opened the flask and tossed down half a swallow. He lifted it to his lips again before realizing the container was empty.
He flung it against a rock and the hollow sound echoed down the hill, mocking him. “Damn.”
Bethany glanced at him. “How many of those containers do you have? Do you keep one in each pocket?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. The problem is that was the last one with anything left to drink in it.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and stood still, again surveying the land. “I kind of figured Hell would be different. You know, the fire and brimstone?” He looked up at the sky. “It’s too blue.”
“What color should it be?” Bethany asked, her lips quirked in a smile.
“Well, if this were really Hell, I’d guess it’d be as black as the darkest starless night, with flashes of red fire against the horizon.” He squinted his eyes as he looked off into the distance.
“What do you see?” Bethany asked.
Connor gazed at the stand of long needled conifers. “Just the ghost of a memory.” Connor shook his head. “I buried my Daddy, almost twenty years ago, under some trees like those over there, right along side Mama. They both died of the fever, only a few days apart.”
“How old were you?”
“Barely sixteen. I’ve been on my own ever since.” He rubbed his eyes wearily. “Except for Elizabeth.”
Bethany studied his profile, trying to make some sense of the puzzle Connor Jessup represented. She could see the strength that had once been there translated into the way he held himself. And, more importantly to her, a strength of spirit that occasionally showed through the drunken demeanor. “In my world, a clump of trees of that sort would indicate the location of a kiyolo.”
“Kiyolo? Is that anything like a saloon? I sure could use a drink.”
“Hardly.” Bethany picked up her pace. “Watch your step,” she said. The ground was covered with sharp rocks, designed to deter intruders.
“A kiyolo is a place of prayer for the Eitellans,” she explained as they hurried along. “Originally, these underground caves were used by an even earlier group of people, the Druas. When they disbanded, the followers of Eitel adopted the caves for their own use. At least, that’s what the legends say. I’m praying I’ll find some information here that’ll help me find Sarah.”
Bethany and Connor reached the brush around the kiyolo, finding it to be thick and heavy with the scent of pine. They pushed back the boughs and the sticky resin that coated the branches clung to their hands and clothes. In the middle of the trees, covering the opening, rested a large flat rock. Bethany bent over and struggled to move it out of the way.
“Let me help you,” Connor offered. As he did so, he stumbled over an exposed tree root and fell forward, landing face first on top of the stone.
Connor grunted. “Got anything liquor-like around here?” he managed to ask between breaths. Bethany shook her head.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Connor whispered roughly, pushing himself to his knees.
“Like what?” Bethany struggled to guard her expression.
“Like you feel sorry for me. I won’t have you feeling sorry for me.”
Bethany reached out and pushed back a stray lock of midnight black hair that had fallen over his eyes. She gasped and pulled away, but not before she felt his imminent death. It was the same feeling she’d
had when studying the Akashic Records and it welled up inside, overpowering her.
He froze, his eyes steady with Bethany’s. “You’re reading me, just like you did with my badge, aren’t you? Tell me what you see, Angel,” he whispered.
Bethany shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Please, Angel. Tell me.”
She looked away. Why should she have such an intense sense of connection with this man? The only important fact about Connor Jessup was that he was going to help her find Sarah. Sarah. The thought of her daughter helped Bethany refocus and push aside the heavy sadness and sense of loss she felt for Connor.
“You know, I can’t move this stone with you kneeling on it.”
Connor glanced down, then scrambled to his feet. “Would you let me help you now?”
“I can take care of it. You just make sure there’s no one around watching us.”
Connor raised his hand to shade his eyes and scanned the area around them. “Nothing to report, Captain, Sir.”
Bethany shot him a frown then returned her attention to the stone. She gave it one last pull and it finally slid along two tracks carved into the solid ground. Bethany stood and brushed the red dirt from her leggings. “I’m going in.”
“Not so fast.” Connor held up his hand and stepped in front of her.
“What do you mean?” Bethany placed her hands on her hips.
“It means I’ll go in there first. A woman doesn’t have any business running headlong into what could be trouble.” He took a step down on the stone stairs that were carved into the side of the kiyolo.
“Hold on there one minute, Connor Jessup. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it all my life, even more so since my husband died. You have absolutely no idea what to expect when you enter that cave, whereas I do. I will go in there first.”
“You had a husband?”
“Did you hear anything I said?” Bethany sighed, exasperated. This was as difficult as trying to explain her need for independence to Ian Johns. Didn’t men understand? They themselves wanted it, but it wasn’t considered acceptable for women. It was beyond belief that here was another man from a completely different plane reacting the same way. She shook her head. “Are all of you men alike?”
Connor puffed himself up. “Well, forgive me for not knowing angels have husbands.” He looked away, shaking his head. “How the hell was I supposed to know? Then you go off getting mad at me, like I did something wrong.”
Bethany poked a finger at his chest. “I will not stand here arguing with you anymore. My daughter’s very existence is at stake and, while I appreciate your help, I want you out of my way. Now!” With each of the last words she spoke, Bethany poked him in the chest.
Just as she finished her tirade, Connor grabbed hold of her wrist. When he spoke, his tone was flat and low. “You talk to me like I don’t have the sense God gave a jackass.”
“Well, I won’t disagree with you there. I don’t know what a jackass is, but it sounds like a stubborn animal!” Bethany struggled to wrestle her arm free. She gave Connor a slight shove and, before either could react, he lost his balance and tumbled down the worn stone steps, pulling her with him.
The pair hit the bottom with a thud, stirring up a cloud of dust and sending what Bethany guessed to be several rodents scurrying. Slowly, she sat up, taking a mental inventory to make sure no bones were broken.
“Of all the stupidest things!” Connor rolled off his back and onto his side, trying to rub the pain in his right thigh away. “You’re awfully damn clumsy for an angel.”
Bethany whacked him in the shoulder with all her might. He yelped. She stood and looked down at him. “I’m not an angel.”
Chapter 14
Frustrated, Bethany left Connor where he lay on the compacted clay floor and began to search around the side of the stair. She ran her hands over the cool stone, feeling every bit of its surface.
“What’re you doing that for?” Connor asked, now rubbing his shoulder. “I’m gonna have a hell of a bruise, thanks to you.”
Bethany chose to ignore the last comment. “Every kiyolo I’ve been in has had a compartment where the makings of a torch are stored. It’s just a matter of finding it.” She glanced up at the opening they had just fallen through. The sky was growing dark and the first stars were beginning to shine. The crescent moon could almost be seen from the edge of the entry as it began its passage through the night. “There it is.” Bethany spotted a niche set high into the wall. From it, she extracted a stick with an oiled cloth wrapped around one end. She reached into her waist pouch, searching. “Oh no.”
“Now what?”
“I don’t have anything to light the torch with.”
Connor stood and dug into his pants pockets. He held out his hand to her. “Try this.”
Bethany squinted to see in the fading light just exactly what he was holding. She wrinkled up her nose. “Why, it’s only a rock. And a piece of metal. How in the world can that help?”
“Trust me,” he said grinning, taking the torch from her hand.
“Not likely,” she said under her breath, watching as he propped the stick against the stone wall.
Connor began to strike the two objects together, working to steady his hands long enough to make contact. Sparks flew until, at last, the torch started to smolder. He leaned over and blew at it until the fire started.
“How did you do that? You only have those two pieces. How can that make fire?” Bethany was beside herself with curiosity.
“Are you making fun of me?” Connor asked warily. He plopped himself down on the ground. “Everyone knows about flint.”
“Perhaps they do in your world, Connor, but in mine, we use a liquid that ignites on contact. It runs underground in streams.” Bethany picked up the torch and stuck it into a small round hole carved into the wall near the stair. “Of course, that can make for some terrible fires if you’re not careful. Those stones of yours could be quite useful.” She turned around to find Connor staring at her. Her breath caught. “Yes?”
“You say you’re not an angel, but you move with the grace of one. The fire shines its light and you glow,” he whispered.
She was both surprised and embarrassed at the tenderness of his words. “You truly have a poet’s heart, Connor Jessup.”
“Yeah, well, I used to like to read. You know, Shakespeare, Browning, all those writers.”
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with them.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t be. They’re from my world.” He gasped and doubled over, clutching his stomach.
Bethany rushed to his side. “Tell me where the pain is.”
Connor shook his head, recovering. “I’m fine. Really.” He forced himself to stand, still holding his midsection. “Isn’t there some place around here where I can get a drink? It wouldn’t have to be real strong, just something passable.” He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m so dry I can’t even work up a good spit.”
“The best I can do is water,” Bethany replied. “Based on the architecture of past kiyolos I’ve explored, there should be a spring in the altar room. Will that be all right?”
“I suppose it’d be better than nothing. I hope my stomach won’t be too upset with me.” He blew out a breath and straightened. “So, what d’ya say we have a look around then?”
Bethany nodded, her eyes still on Connor. “There’s usually an antechamber just past this main entrance. Beyond there, we should find the altar room.” She picked up the torch. “This way,” she pointed with the flame toward the back of the kiyolo.
“Do you want me to go first?” Connor asked, smirking.
She didn’t reply, but gave him a narrow eyed glare. With a toss of her head, the long blonde mane shivered down Bethany’s back. Connor hung back, watching the easy sway of her hips as she walk
ed, a slight smile playing about his lips.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked, not even bothering to look back.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.” He started to follow when a sharp pain shot through his body. Connor broke out in a cold sweat and leaned wearily against the wall of the passageway. “Wait a minute, Angel. I don’t feel so good.” He let his body slide down the stone until he was sitting on the ground. “Maybe you could bring the drink out here.”
Bethany hurried to his side and crouched down near him. “Won’t you let me heal you now? I tell you I can ease your suffering.”
Connor studied her face in the torch light. He reached out his hand and, hesitantly, touched her cheek. “Can you keep me from dying?”
“No one can, Connor. If it’s your time, there’s nothing I can do about it. I can only make your remaining days more comfortable,” she whispered.
“You said days. Is that all I have left?”
Bethany started to look away, but Connor put both hands on her face and forced her to look at him. Tears welled in her eyes as they changed from topaz to azure. “What are you doing?” he asked warily.
“Don’t be afraid. I only want to help you.”
Connor shoved Bethany away as another spasm passed through his stomach. “I tell you I don’t want your help.” He looked past her. “I don’t deserve it.”
“Everyone deserves to be well, Connor. The drink you consume has done this to you. Don’t you see?” Her eyes shifted to their original color and she sat back on her heels. Shaking her head, she took the torch and entered the antechamber, leaving Connor alone with his pain and his demons.
Chapter 15
“This is beautiful,” Bethany breathed upon entering the antechamber. Here was a kiyolo that had yet to be explored by the Diggers of Paran, so it was still intact. The walls contained dark and colorful ground pigment paintings, each outlining a different event in the life of Eitel. Here, to the left, was his birth from inside of a kiyolo. That’s why the word translates into ‘womb’, she thought. She knew that some women entered those nearest their village when it came time to deliver. According to legend, it would ease their pain.
