Eye of the Oracle

by Bryan Davis

  “And Nimrod’s tower is gone,” Makaidos noted, “so there is no place to climb to get a good view.” He joined Roxil and spun in a slow circle, his arms spread out. “This is absolutely amazing!”

  Roxil grabbed his sleeve. “How can you possibly be happy about this? We are human now! We are disgusting, hateful, lust-filled, wine-guzzling bipeds!”

  Makaidos rubbed the material on his sleeve. “How about that? God gave me a fine-looking human garment!” He stepped back and gazed at Roxil from head to toe, admiring her long cream-colored dress. “And look at you! What a lovely outfit!”

  Roxil set her fists on her hips. “Father! You are impossible! We have degenerated into the worst of all the species, and just like the vainest of the lot, you are already obsessing over clothing!”

  “I am not obsessing. I am marveling.” Makaidos laid a hand on her back and leaned close. “Listen to me. Obviously we have entered into some sort of afterlife. God has given us a new opportunity. Maybe we can make the human condition a better one, perhaps build a city that reflects the opposite of the corruption that Nimrod foisted upon the world.”

  Roxil folded her arms over her chest. “What can we possibly do with this city? It is in ruins.”

  “The symbolism is perfect.” Makaidos clasped his hands together. “As we rebuild the corrupted city, we reshape the human culture.”

  “But how can just two people create a culture?”

  “If this is a place where dragons go when they die, perhaps new ones will join us, and other dragons are likely here already. Some perished in the great flood and others died in battles with the Watchers before the flood.”

  “How many?”

  “Fifteen or so. We did not procreate quickly back then, so our numbers were few.”

  Roxil spread out her arms. “Then where are they?”

  Makaidos shrugged his shoulders. “The logical approach would be to look for them.”

  “Logical, yes, but we are humans now. Logic never seemed to be a primary behavioral motivation for them whenever I was watching.”

  “True enough for many of them.” He nudged her ribs. “But I also observed some dragons who ignored logic on many occasions.”

  She looped her arm around his elbow. “If that means, ‘I told you so,’ then I guess I deserve it.”

  “It was a gentle rebuke, my love.” He caressed her cheek with his hand, letting his knuckles linger. “This enhanced sense of touch is quite pleasant, is it not?”

  She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. “It is. I cannot deny it.”

  “So, shall we explore this strange world and experience a new adventure?”

  “I suppose so.” She walked at his side, then stopped and playfully poked his arm. “But I am going to keep my eye on you. I still lack trust in the human species, and now you are one of them.”

  Makaidos shrugged his shoulders again. “Fair enough.” As the two strolled hand in hand along the path, he smiled. He wanted to look at his daughter’s facial expression, but sneaking a peek might tip the delicate balance of her emotions. He knew exactly what her dragon face would have looked like right now, a blend of skepticism and excitement. Although she despised humanity, she had to be relishing the adventure of living in a completely new world. Her human face probably bore a similar expression, perhaps mixed with a touch of fear. He regripped her cold, trembling hand. Maybe his confidence could cast out her fears.

  They walked slowly toward the ruins of the city’s brick kilns. Shinar seemed much larger than before, and somehow closer, more intimate, even in its devastated condition. Marble fragments from broken statues littered the dirt path, and a dried-out tar pit sank away to one side. Makaidos pointed at one of the broken ovens. “We can make that area into a bakery, and the tar pits can be farmland.”

  Roxil winced at the dark depressions in the earth. “Can you grow crops in tar?”

  “I have no idea, but we will soon learn.” He stopped suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  He shook his head and continued walking. “Just an impression, an image in my mind. A girl begging me to speak to her.”

  “What did she look like?”

  Makaidos gazed upward. “It was fleeting, but I did see bright blue eyes and hair as white as wool.”

  “Okay, Father, you are scaring me. First, you enjoy being human, now you are getting drunk without ever touching a wineskin.”

  Makaidos smirked. “Shall I keep my visions to myself, then?”

  “No, no. Go ahead and tell me. I have to monitor your sanity and keep you in line.”

  After several minutes of exploring the ruins, Makaidos stopped again and squeezed Roxil’s hand. “Am I insane now?” He pointed at a pomegranate tree near a collapsed portico. “Or do I see a girl hiding behind that tree?”

  Roxil whispered. “I see her, too. I cannot see her eyes, but her hair is brown, not white.”

  “True. She is not the girl I saw in my mind.”

  “Could she be one of the dragons who died in the flood? She is quite young.”

  “It is possible,” Makaidos replied. “My sister Zera was a youngling when she died.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Roxil ran forward, waving. “Zera, is that you?”

  Chapter 5

  Baptism of Fire

  Driving her trembling legs forward, Sapphira shuffled toward the river. She thrust her hand into her pocket and jerked out the Ovulum. “Elohim!” she cried, her entire body quaking. “Help me! I don’t know what to do!”

  Elam dove into the magma. Sapphira gasped and trudged to the edge. She breathed a quick prayer and pushed the Ovulum back into her pocket. Scanning the magma’s bubbling surface, she searched for any sign of life.

  A head bobbed in the current. There he was! Swimming back to the side! When he neared the shore, he waded up to dry land. A thick coat of magma dripped down his tunic and instantly hardened to a crusty coat of ash, blackening his frame from head to toe. At least he was safe, but he was alone.

  Sapphira dropped to her knees and cried. “She’s gone! My poor Paili is gone forever!”

  “Gone, yes.” Elam began brushing the ash from his sleeve. “But maybe not forever.”

  Sapphira lifted her head, barely able to breathe. “What . . . what do you mean?”

  “It was the strangest thing. I could open my eyes under there, and I could see everything clearly. Paili was sinking into a whirlpool, and I dove down to grab her, but before I could reach her hand, she suddenly disappeared. If I could survive this stuff, maybe she did, too. That whirlpool has to lead somewhere.”

  Sapphira pushed up to her wobbly legs and helped Elam brush the ash from his chest. “Did she look scared?”

  “I think so, but it was hard to tell.”

  Stooping next to the river, Sapphira dipped her hand into the current and raised a sample of the magma to her eyes. It was certainly warm, but not the superheated, blistering sensation she expected. As she continued to examine it, the tiniest bubbles became clear. Each one carried microscopic bits of ash through the thick suspension. Staring at the magma seemed to raise the familiar feeling of sadness; Acacia’s face, then Paili’s, scorched her mind’s eye.

  She let the magma trickle to the ground. Each drop sizzled on the granite as it struck the floor. “It’s a portal,” she whispered.

  “A portal?” Elam brushed both hands through his hair, breaking chunks of black crust and letting them fall to the ground.

  Sapphira’s legs strengthened, and her voice steadied. “The whirlpool in the river must be another portal, just like the one we used to get here. Maybe Paili went through it, and she’s alive on the other side.”

  “You mean it’s a door to somewhere else?”

  “Yes, to yet another place or dimension. That last portal brought us back to the lower realms, but there’s no way to tell where the whirlpool leads.”

  Elam waded int
o the magma again and extended his hand. “We’d better find her right away. There’s no telling what’s at the bottom of that whirlpool.”

  Sapphira reached for his hand and tiptoed in. As the bubbling liquid rose to her thighs, the warmth soothed her tired feet and legs. When she moved to deeper magma, she let go of Elam and paddled through the thick goop, raising splashes that found their way to her mouth. Spitting out the hot, crusty ash, she clamped her lips tight and swam after Elam, but the sense of sadness grew so strong, her arms felt weak and heavy. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the pain would spur her on. She had to keep going! She just had to!

  Keeping afloat by paddling with one arm, Elam raised his hand and pointed at the river. “I think the whirlpool’s straight down.”

  Sapphira nodded, barely opening her lips to speak. “Let’s go!”

  Elam dipped his head under and kicked to thrust his body downward. Sapphira took a deep breath and followed. Forcing herself to open her eyes, she saw Elam more clearly than if it were the sunniest day in history. He plunged deeper, and she kept following, glad she had taken so many dives into Lucifer’s pool hunting for polished stones. Her lungs would hold out . . . she hoped.

  A slowly swirling eddy appeared below. Elam swam inside and disappeared in the shining vortex. Her lungs now begging for air, Sapphira plunged into the center of the swirl, thrusting and kicking with all her might. As the whirlpool swallowed her, she felt the familiar transformation to light energy and a blinding sensation, then, a few seconds later, pressure on her feet as though she were standing upright.

  Although her eyes were still blinded, cool air breezed past her face, signaling that she had re-embodied and was now standing on a flat surface. As her vision cleared, she saw a nearby fountain, dry and cracked. A line of broken-down shops lay beyond it, as well as another dry fountain in the distance. She drank in the air, nearly hyperventilating as her lungs slowly recovered.

  “It looks like we’re back where we started.” Elam tightened the belt on his tunic. “At least there’s no black stuff all over me this time.”

  “Back where we started?” Sapphira scanned the city again. This time she spotted the familiar brick kilns and tar pit. “Those portals just took us in a circle?”

  “I guess so, but we’re not in exactly the same place as before.” He pointed at the rise on the other side of the more distant fountain. “We were over there.”

  Sapphira breathed a sigh. “If we made it through, then Paili probably did, too.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Paili! Are you here?”

  A tiny voice replied from far away. “I’m here!”

  Sapphira stretched up to her toes. Excitement pitched her voice higher. “Where’s here?”

  “Right here with my two new friends.” A tiny pair of hands waved in the distance behind the second fountain.

  Sapphira grabbed Elam’s wrist. “I see her! Let’s go!”

  They ran past a carpenter shop, a seamstress boutique, and a spa, all with broken columns and entryways, then across a patio that led to the fountain. Letting go of Elam, she surged ahead, jumped into the fountain’s cavity, and dashed to the other side. She leaped over the low parapet and swept Paili into her arms.

  After swinging Paili in a full circle, Sapphira set her down and combed her fingers through the little girl’s hair. “You’re okay! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

  “Me, too!” Paili chirped. She turned and pointed. “I have new friends!”

  Sapphira took a quick breath. A man and a woman stood at the base of the fountain, the same couple she had seen by the brick kilns. She dipped her knee in a brief curtsy. “Uh, hello.”

  The man ascended the few marble steps leading to the fountain. “It is the girl from my vision!”

  Elam stepped in between the man and Sapphira. “Who are you?”

  The man stopped and extended his hand. “Makaidos is my name. What is yours?”

  Elam lifted his hand slowly, his eyes revealing deep suspicion. “I’ve heard that name somewhere before.”

  Makaidos gripped Elam’s hand and shook it, then looked back at the woman and smiled. “This is my daughter, Roxil.”

  Elam’s brow lifted. “I have heard your names! Those are dragon names. My father told me lots of stories about dragons.”

  “Your father?” Makaidos released Elam’s hand. “Who are you?”

  Elam squared his shoulders. “I am Elam, son of Shem, grandson of Noah.”

  “You are Shem’s missing son?” Makaidos stared at Elam. “You must have died over a thousand years ago!” He glanced back at Roxil and scratched his head. “But now I am confused. We died as dragons and awoke here, so I thought this was a place for dragons to rest after they died. Why would a dead human be here?”

  “We’re not dead,” Sapphira offered. “We can travel from one dimension to another. We came here looking for Paili, and we’re planning to leave as soon as possible.”

  “Do you know how to leave this place?” Roxil leaped up to the fountain level. “May we come with you?”

  “I don’t know,” Sapphira replied. “If some of these dimensions are meant for the souls of the dead, would it make sense if they could leave? I mean, wouldn’t they all just leave if they could?”

  Makaidos took Roxil’s hand. “It could be dangerous. I think we should stay right where we are.”

  “Listen to you!” Roxil said, turning to face him. “The one who loves adventure!”

  “A well-placed stroke.” Makaidos shook a finger at her. “But there is adventure, and there is foolhardy risk.”

  Roxil tapped her foot on the ground. “Would you prevent me from trying?”

  “Would I be able to stop you?” Makaidos sighed and gazed at every face in turn. “We have only been here a short while, and I suspect that other dragons are hereabouts in the guise of humans, perhaps my father and mother or my siblings.” His gaze lingered on Sapphira. “Would you care to assist us in a search?”

  Elam cleared his throat sharply. “I don’t see any dragons, and we have Paili, so we should ”

  Sapphira squeezed Elam’s arm. “I’d love to help! Just because we can’t see the dragons doesn’t mean they’re not here.”

  His eyes glazing, Elam raised his hands toward his ears, then lowered them quickly. He jerked his head back and forth as if shaking water from his hair.

  Sapphira caressed his arm. The voice must have been tormenting him again. “When I’m standing at a portal,” she said, “I can see everything. Maybe if I ” Sudden warmth radiated over her thigh. Sliding her hand slowly, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the Ovulum.

  Makaidos stepped closer, his eyes bulging. “The Ovulum! Where did you get it?”

  He reached for it, but Sapphira pulled it away. “I’ve had it for centuries,” she said. “The Eye of the Oracle said I could keep it.”

  Makaidos pushed his hand through his short reddish-brown hair. “The Eye speaks to you?”

  “Yes . . .” She pulled the Ovulum closer to her face. “Or he used to. It’s been a while since the last time. But the egg got pretty warm just now, so I thought he was going to speak again, maybe to help us find your dragon family.”

  “So,” Roxil said, “what do you do? Ask it a question?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t always answer.” Sapphira raised the egg to her lips and spoke slowly and clearly. “Are there any more dragons here, and if there are, can you help us find them?”

  “That’s two questions,” Elam said. “Maybe you should ask one at a time.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s smart enough to ” The egg suddenly grew red hot. Sapphira juggled it for a moment, passing it back and forth between her hands as she lowered it to the marble skirt around the fountain. It rocked to the side for a second, then stood upright on its larger end.

  Red halos pulsed from the glass, creating vertical rings of light that dimmed and thinned out as they expanded. The frequency
of the pulses increased. Ring after ring flew from the Ovulum, so quickly that the gaps between them vanished, leaving a shining red half oval that feathered into pink hues at the edges.

  Sapphira reached out and touched the flat oval with her finger, making the surface ripple. She leaned close and gazed through the translucent screen. Elam and Paili stood on the other side, bathed in a wrinkled red shroud, but Makaidos and Roxil appeared as dragons. She jumped to the side and peeked around the edge. Four humans stood agape next to the fountain.

  She looked through the screen again. Two humans and two dragons stared back at her.

  Elam pointed at her from the other side of the screen. “Sapphira! You’re covered with fire!”

  Merlin rode on Clefspeare’s back through the clearing skies and gazed at the terrain below. A stream wound through a forest, leading away from a cliff that housed Makaidos’s cave. A rough path followed the stream through dense forest and undergrowth, but few now ventured its dangerous trek. With Goliath on the warpath, this area attracted only the ignorant or suicidal.

  Clefspeare circled lower. “I fear we are too late, Master Merlin. The sense of danger peaked and now wanes with every second. If I had not been such a fool, I would have realized that Arramos was leading me away on purpose.”

  “Don’t fret about the past,” Merlin said, patting the dragon’s neck. “Just get us to the cave.” He pointed toward the path. “I see two people carrying a third. Is that the king?”

  “Yes,” Clefspeare said. “Devin and Palin are carrying him. Hold on!” He angled into a dive, taking Merlin almost straight down.

  As they approached, Devin and Palin laid the king on the ground and withdrew their swords. Making a sharp turn, Clefspeare avoided the blades and slapped them away with his tail. He landed with a rough bounce, and Merlin scrambled down his back.

  “Fools!” Merlin shouted. “Couldn’t you see me riding on the dragon?”

  Devin picked up his sword and pointed it at Clefspeare. “If you had seen the heroics we had to accomplish to rescue the king, you would have done the same. No dragon can be trusted!”