Eye of the Oracle

by Bryan Davis

  Sapphira closed her eyes. The portal center once again flooded her mind with grief. Acacia’s terrified face blazed across her inner vision, and her best friend’s muffled splash in the magma river echoed in her mind. As she opened her eyes, she whispered, “There is one more lantern!” She wrapped her arms around herself and, her eyes filling with tears, shouted as loud as she could, “Give me light!”

  Sapphira’s hair erupted in flames. Streams of fire poured down her arms and chest, like magma rivulets coursing their way to her feet. She lifted her arms, and her whole body burst into an inferno, enveloping her in a spinning vortex of fire. When she lowered her arms, a new gust of wind, the strongest yet, nearly knocked her over.

  As the tongues of fire ripped away into the breeze, a heavy weight grew against Sapphira’s chest, a girl leaning on her, completely covered in white, her dress, her skin, even her hair.

  Sapphira draped her weary arms around the girl. “Acacia?” She ran her fingers through the girl’s thick white hair, barely able to breathe a whisper. “Is it really you?”

  Acacia groaned, her face buried in Sapphira’s dress. “Where am I?”

  Sapphira helped her sit down and lifted her chin. “Look. It’s me, Sapph . . . I mean, Mara. Don’t you remember me?”

  Acacia’s lips formed the first letter, “M . . . M . . .” Then, her eyes suddenly brightened, tears glistening in each as she whispered, “Mara?”

  Sapphira grabbed her and hugged her close. “Yes! Yes! It’s Mara!” She rocked Acacia back and forth. “Oh, I missed you so much! I thought you were dead! I thought you were lost forever!” She pulled back and wiped tears from her eyes. “Do you remember what happened? I mean, what have you been doing all these centuries? Or have you been unconscious?”

  Acacia pushed against the floor and rose to her feet. Sapphira rose with her and brushed the grit away from Acacia’s sleeves. “I remember falling and being sucked into something, then” she gestured toward the other twelve girls who were also rising to their feet “I saw my sister spawns all sitting around listening to an old man.”

  “Sister spawns?” Sapphira tilted her head. “I don’t recognize any of them. I don’t see Taalah or Qadar.”

  “You and I didn’t know these sisters. They were the first twelve.”

  “Explain later.” Sapphira took her by the elbow. “Let’s get away from this place. It affects my mind in weird ways.”

  “Me, too.” Acacia followed Sapphira’s lead down the tower mound’s gentle slope. “It feels dark and sad. Does that mean we’re not in heaven?”

  “I’m not sure where we are, and I don’t know much about heaven, only what I read in Mardon’s scrolls.”

  Acacia pushed her hair out of her face. “I don’t think heaven feels so depressing. My teacher told me it would be wonderful.”

  “Who is your teacher?”

  “He never told us his name.” Acacia shrugged. “We just called him Teacher.”

  “Well, I hope he’s right about heaven. I wish I could be sure. Every place I’ve been is pretty depressing.”

  The entire group gathered at the bottom of the slope. Makaidos stood at the center and lifted his hand in the air, twisting the ring on his index finger. “Our rings hold the traditional gem of the dragons, so I believe they are a symbol of the new life our Maker has given us in this place. Many of the dragons who died in or before the flood are here.” He waved for a young girl to come close. She wrapped one arm around his waist and leaned against his side. “Zera, my sister, made it.” He nodded at a young man who was straightening his clothes and another man wearing a bowler hat. “Hilidan and Clirkus, my two young warrior friends, as well.” He nodded again, this time at an older woman. “My mother, Shachar, is here, too.”

  Roxil laid a hand on Shachar’s back and rubbed it tenderly. “But your father is not here. That proves Arramos is still alive.”

  “Arramos could very well be alive.” Makaidos’s jaw tensed. “But that evil dragon who masquerades as my father is not Arramos.”

  Shachar slid her arm around Makaidos’s waist, overlapping Zera’s grip. “Arramos is alive, my son. I do not know how long I have been floating in a senseless limbo, but I always felt his presence, and that made my wandering existence tolerable. If an evil dragon says he is Arramos, rest assured that he is a liar. My mate would never succumb to Lucifer’s song.”

  “And on that truth, I will take my stand.” Makaidos brushed his lips across Shachar’s cheek, ending the gentle caress with a kiss. “Somehow, I will find him.”

  “So what do we do now?” Hilidan asked. He quickly covered his lips with his fingers. “How strange. What kind of accent is that?”

  Makaidos laughed. “You sound like one of the Celts.”

  “I am fond of it,” Hilidan said. “It has the quality of song.”

  “Indeed it does!” Makaidos clapped him on the back. “It seems that the Maker has given us unique human characteristics, including unique voices, body shapes, and personalities.”

  “Unique?” Roxil grimaced. “That was not the word I had in mind.”

  “Roxil, the Maker has given us this destiny, so we would be wise to make the best of it. We should forget the past, rebuild this village, and live as humans until the Maker sees fit to send us elsewhere.”

  The other former dragons nodded their agreement, but Roxil’s face hardened as she stared at the ground. “Have you already forgotten my mother?” she asked. “Have you forsaken Thigocia?”

  Makaidos’s face turned pale.

  Roxil crossed her arms over her chest. “So you have already forgotten her!”

  Makaidos nodded slowly. “Why would that be? How could I forget the love of my life?”

  “Is it because you reject the Maker’s plan?” Roxil asked. “He made you a dragon, and now you want to forget everything about your dragon life, so he stripped away your greatest love.”

  “I reject nothing!” Makaidos spread out his fingers and showed them to Roxil. “Did the Maker not also choose this form for me? I accept any form my creator shapes around my mind!” With the Ovulum resting in his palm, he gazed at it and walked back toward the tower portal. “I have to think.”

  When Makaidos passed out of earshot, Roxil glared at Elam and the underborns, her eyes flashing. As she crossed her arms again, a barely perceptible smile grew on her lips. Her voice altered to a slow, Morgan-like cadence. “If this is a place for dragons to rest, then perhaps the humans ought to find another home.”

  Sapphira called up the innocent voice she often used to answer Morgan. “Well, I’m not sure exactly how human we are,” she said. “We’re called underborns. At least most of us are.”

  Roxil held up her ringed finger. “There will be no mixing between dragons and humankind, underborn or otherwise. As long as we have to dwell here in these human disguises, we will keep ourselves pure.”

  Elam strode up to Roxil and looked her in the eye. “Don’t worry, dragon lady. I’ll leave on the fastest camel out of here, but if you get sick of this place in a thousand years or so, don’t be surprised if no one, human or underborn, comes to rescue you.”

  Roxil kicked at the ground, raising a cloud of dust. “Even if this place were to crumble beneath my feet, I would never take aid from a human! Never!”

  “Suit yourself.” Elam turned and waved for Sapphira to follow. “We’re leaving.”

  Without looking back, Elam marched up the rise. Sapphira took Paili’s hand, then Acacia’s, and hurried to follow. The other girls huddled into a group behind them and began walking up the slope toward the portal.

  When Elam reached the top of the rise, Makaidos met him with a raised hand. “Please! I beg you to wait!”

  Elam halted. Sapphira tightened her grip on Acacia’s hand and waited near the crest. Makaidos held the Ovulum in his palm and waved at Roxil. “Come. All of you. I want to tell you something.”

  Roxil lowered her arms to her sides, her face
softened by a hint of fear. She and the other dragons ascended the rise and gathered at the top.

  “I must give clear instructions before the humans leave,” Makaidos said. “When they return, I will be gone.”

  “Where will you go?” Sapphira asked.

  “I wish I knew.” He handed the Ovulum back to Sapphira. “You see, as soon as I walked into the old museum area, the Eye of the Oracle spoke to me. He told me that I must complete my work here and God would grant me the greatest desire of my heart.”

  Sapphira took Makaidos’s hand. “What is the desire of your heart?” she asked, caressing the pulsing gem on his ring.

  Makaidos stroked her hair. “I dare not presume. I would not jeopardize the possibilities for all the world.”

  She gazed into his soft brown eyes. “Then can you tell me what you’re supposed to do?”

  “Yes.” He waved his arm across the city scene. “We are to raze everything that would remind us of Shinar’s evil past and use the materials to build a new, peaceful village. We are to forget what lies behind and live and act as humans until God sends someone to deliver us to a better place.”

  Sapphira twisted the ring on Makaidos’s finger. For some reason, touching the gem soothed her mind, the opposite feeling the portals evoked. “You’re supposed to forget everything?” she asked.

  “About being dragons, yes. The Eye explained that God will grant us forgetfulness so we can survive here while we wait. Otherwise, we would go insane.”

  “I wish we could stay and help.” Sapphira glanced down at his ring. As her thumb rubbed the gem, the pulsing stopped and its surface faded to pink, then to white. When she pulled her thumb away, it changed back to red and resumed its pulse.

  “It would be best,” Makaidos continued, “if we dragons ”

  “How odd!” Sapphira whispered.

  Makaidos looked down at her. “Odd? What is odd?”

  “May I try on your ring?” she asked.

  Makaidos glanced at Roxil. Her sour expression had deepened. “I suppose it would be all right,” he said.

  Makaidos pulled the ring off and pushed it over Sapphira’s finger. Since it was several sizes too big, it slid easily down to her bottom knuckle. The gem turned snow white. He lifted her hand close to his eyes and whispered, “Amazing!”

  She slipped it back off and returned it to Makaidos’s finger. “Look!” she said, “it’s red again.”

  Roxil raised up on tiptoes and craned her neck, but she said nothing.

  Makaidos twisted the ring back in place. “Perhaps a dragon’s touch keeps it red.”

  “Or maybe the touch of an Oracle of Fire turns it white.” Sapphira set a finger on her chest. “That’s what I am. At least that’s what the Eye told me.”

  “That reminds me.” Makaidos pointed at her. “I need to tell you the rest of the Eye’s warnings. This dimension is reserved for the spirits of dragons, so everyone who is human will have to leave at once. The Eye said that a new king of the dragons will arise to set all dragons free and lead them to a better world. The two Oracles of Fire will have the power to open a portal to allow him in, but if they open it before the proper time, this place will burn with fire. And even when the king comes, the very hour he departs with his followers, all of Dragons’ Rest will be destroyed.”

  “So we have to go right away?” Sapphira asked.

  Makaidos lowered his gaze to the ground. “You have no choice.”

  Roxil stepped forward and hooked her arm through Makaidos’s and pulled him away. “Father, I think we should get right to work and let these humans” she glared at Sapphira “and underborns obey the Eye’s commands.”

  Makaidos began walking with Roxil toward the brick kilns, but he glanced back at Sapphira. “Godspeed, my child. I hope the Maker allows us to meet again.”

  A tide of sadness washed through Sapphira’s mind. She sniffed, then waved, not wanting to turn and leave this lovely man . . . or dragon . . . behind.

  Acacia whispered. “We’d better go. We don’t belong here. And besides, we have a thousand things to talk about.”

  The joy of having Acacia back overwhelmed her sadness. She grasped her twin’s hand. “And all these other girls to get to know.”

  “Do we have to swim up through that whirlpool?” Elam asked. “It’s no fun, believe me.”

  “We came through the portal down near the fountain, so going back that way will likely put us back in the magma river. I’m not sure, but the one where the tower used to be might lead us to the bottom of the chasm, like it did when Elam and I used it. I’m kind of confused, because I don’t think we’re in the same dimension as when we used it before, so going back might take us somewhere else, like maybe the top of the museum.” She winced at her own words. “Does that make any sense at all?”

  Elam shook his head, while Acacia nodded. “Perfect sense,” she said. “I vote for the tower portal. I don’t think anyone wants to fight that whirlpool.”

  “That part makes sense,” Elam said, “but if the other portal takes us anywhere near Morgan, the magma whirlpool might start looking like a fun swim.”

  Chapter 6

  Councils of War and Peace

  Merlin skulked into the enormous cave, laying his hand against the side wall as he crept forward. This had to be the place. Valcor’s directions were exceedingly precise. As the cavern dimmed, he ducked under a spider dangling from the ceiling and slowed even further. Although he was more acquainted with dragons than was any other living human, the thought of attending a council of a dozen or more in an unfamiliar cave wasn’t exactly comforting. Some would be strangers, and if he failed to adequately explain why their king was killed by humans like himself, they might be inclined to use him as a torch for their council of war.

  As he entered the darker inner cavern, Merlin slowly withdrew Excalibur from its sheath. The blade began to glow, lighting his way. Although he couldn’t see any dragon faces yet, he sensed a presence in the distance. He called into the void. “I am only carrying this for light. I assume you sense no danger from me.”

  A deep, gentle voice replied. “You are most welcome here, Master Merlin. There is no malintent in your heart.”

  Merlin increased Excalibur’s glow, illuminating the craggy walls of the vast chamber and a knee-high, flat stone at his feet. At least thirty dragons encircled him, several of them breathing loud, spark-filled snorts. His legs suddenly unsteady, he turned and located the female dragon who had greeted him. He bowed. “Hartanna, thank you for sending for me.” He swung back, noting several dragons he didn’t recognize, and nodded briefly toward Valcor, then to Thigocia before returning to Hartanna. “Your brother’s summons seemed urgent, so I came as quickly as I could.”

  “It is urgent, dear prophet. Thigocia has asked me to gather Makaidos’s followers and inform them of our present distress. I summoned you for guidance concerning the affairs of the humans.”

  “A wise decision.” Merlin sighed and turned to Thigocia again. “I assume you located the bodies of your departed mate and daughter.”

  “I did.” A large tear trickled down Thigocia’s cheek. “I will take care of them. Perhaps Valcor will help me.”

  Valcor dipped his head solemnly. “It would be an honor, my queen.”

  Merlin sat heavily on the flat stone, wiping his teary eyes with his robe’s baggy sleeve. Taking a deep breath, he lifted Excalibur and gazed around the room. “Perhaps I am not as familiar with dragon customs as I ought to be, and my question might be premature, but will you choose a new king or will the queen assume the leadership role? In this time of crisis, the dragons will need a clear chain of command.”

  Thigocia lowered herself to her belly, and the other dragons settled to the ground with her. “We have had only one succession,” she said, “and Arramos designated Makaidos as king before the flood. In other situations, we females assert ourselves boldly when no male will step to the lead, but without Makaidos, I wou
ld not be able to lead this noble group. I believe both genders are necessary for such guidance.”

  “Then will you choose successors, or will you find another mate?”

  Thigocia turned on her eyebeams and rested them on Merlin’s robe. “After thousands of years with my beloved, I cannot bear the thought of taking another. I will choose successors, one for Makaidos and one for myself.” Her scarlet beams drifted from one scaly body to the next until they rested on Clefspeare, who promptly scooted back a few inches. “If I may be so bold,” she continued, “I believe Clefspeare and Hartanna are best suited to take our places.”

  “Clefspeare!” Hartanna cried. “He is ”

  “Hartanna!” Thigocia’s beams flashed.

  “Yes, Mother.” Hartanna closed her eyes, and her head dipped low. “If that is your will.”

  Merlin rose to his feet and approached Clefspeare. “I will finish your sentence, dragoness, with my own opinion, if I may.” He laid a hand on Clefspeare’s neck. “He is a courageous and noble friend. There is no dragon, or even human, with greater integrity.”

  A gentle smile broke through on Thigocia’s face. “No one can deny your words, Master Merlin. I believe Hartanna’s concern is that Clefspeare has always been such a loner that we only know of his heroic battle exploits, not whether he could lead the dragons or be a proper mate.”

  Clefspeare made a rumbling sound within his chest and bowed. “Then let my service to your departed mate, my one and only king, be your guide. If it were my choice alone, I would continue in my life of solitude, but if your will is that I should be betrothed to Hartanna, then I humbly accept, for I know that your will is equal to that of Makaidos.” He raised his head and nodded toward Hartanna. “I do, however, request the traditional, five-year betrothal period. Before we pass through our covenant veil, a time of separation is essential for me to prepare myself for this duty.”

  “Duty?” Hartanna snorted. “Does not marriage involve more than duty?”

  Clefspeare slid farther back. Shadows covered his face.