Eye of the Oracle

by Bryan Davis

  Sapphira nodded. Her lips quivered, and her voice cracked. “It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have let Paili use that fruit in the stew. I should have thrown it all in the river.”

  Paili laid her hands on Sapphira’s back. “You told them,” she said softly. “They not listen.”

  Sapphira shook her head and kicked a protruding scroll farther into the fire. The flames leapt up and crackled louder, masking her squeaking voice. “I could’ve stopped them. I really could have.”

  Acacia squinted at her. “What are you talking about?”

  After taking a deep breath, Sapphira related the story about Morgan’s fruit from the tree in the museum. She added most of her other significant adventures, from the tower collapse to the amazing midnight dance with Elohim. As she spoke, Acacia paid close attention, glancing at the tree in the museum from time to time and stoking the fire whenever one of the girls brought a new scroll for fuel.

  When Sapphira finished, she exhaled loud and long. “There’s a lot more to tell, but I’m getting tired.”

  “Don’t worry,” Acacia said. “I’m sure we’ll have time later. I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a while.”

  Sapphira raised her eyebrows at the drying clothes. “We’d better get dressed before Elam gets back.”

  The girls hurriedly changed clothes, giving back the outer dresses to their owners. As Yara continued to feed the flames, Acacia ventured into the museum library and browsed through the scrolls that lay within reach, picking up a few and blowing dust off their yellowed exteriors. “Are there any maps that show the layout of this place?” she called. “We could use one for exploring.”

  “Yes,” Sapphira replied, pointing. “Check the third shelf up, near the back, over by the ladder with the broken first rung.”

  “I think I see the shelf.” Acacia grasped the ladder and began climbing.

  Sapphira strode to the corridor, stepped over the dead snake, and peered into the dark hall. Elam should have been back by this time. Could Mardon have found him? Knowing Elam, he probably tried to get into every forbidden room he could find.

  “Sapphira,” Acacia yelled from the ladder. “I found it. It shows everything ”

  “Wait!” Sapphira held up her hand. “I hear something.” Slaps of sandals on stone echoed in the tunnel. Light appeared, drawing rapidly closer. Sounds of heavy breathing mixed in, then a shout.

  “Sapphira!” Elam’s face glowed in the bouncing light of a lantern. He stopped at the end of the corridor, his cheeks red and streaming with sweat. “You won’t believe what I saw!”

  “Try me.” She kicked the dead snake’s body. “At this point, I’m ready to believe anything.”

  “I found the mobility training room for the spawns. It’s amazing!”

  “How did you get in?”

  Acacia walked up, an open scroll in her hands. “Through the ceiling, I’ll bet.”

  Elam mopped his brow with his sleeve. “How did you know?”

  Acacia held up the scroll. “This is a map to the layout of this place. There’s a heat release vent and tunnel above the mobility room ceiling.”

  “Did they see you?” Sapphira asked Elam. “They’re all giants now, right?”

  “They’re huge!” he replied, spreading out his arms. “But, no, they didn’t see me. I just peeked in from above and closed the trapdoor real quick.”

  “Was Mardon in there?”

  “Uh-huh. He was showing the biggest giant how to train the others.”

  Sapphira shook her head. “I’ll bet that was my spawn, Yereq.”

  “Yes!” Elam pointed at her. “That was the name he called it. Yereq.”

  Acacia took the scroll closer to the firelight and rolled it out on the floor. “Here,” she said, pointing to the upper right portion of the map. “This one’s labeled the mobility room.”

  Elam pressed his finger on a room at the bottom left. “We’re way over here.”

  “That’s strange,” Acacia said. “The room we’re in isn’t labeled.”

  “I remember looking at this a few years ago.” Sapphira tapped her finger next to Elam’s. “I think this was an empty chamber before the museum dropped in. Mardon probably drew this map long before that happened, and he still might not know about it. Morgan never told Mardon anything he didn’t need to know, not even about the abyss.”

  “The abyss?” Acacia tilted her head at Sapphira. “What’s that?”

  “Something only Morgan, Paili, and I know about. Paili and I found it while mining and almost fell in, but we had no clue what it was.” Sapphira scanned the map. “Where’s the mining level?”

  Acacia rolled it out farther. “Let’s see. . . . Laborers’ quarters . . . Ah! Mining level.”

  Sapphira slid her finger along dark lines that represented the trenches. “This is an old drawing. We mined past the end of this before I got promoted to the control room.” She pointed at a spot off the map. “If you extended the drawing, the abyss would be about right here. It’s a deep hole, so deep I couldn’t see the bottom.”

  “Then I guess you wouldn’t know what’s in it,” Elam said.

  “Not for sure. We heard someone moaning, and I read something in a scroll that told me what might be down there. I assumed the scroll was right, so I never went back. One thing’s for sure; Morgan seemed interested in it.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you girls,” Elam said, “but if Morgan’s interested in it, I want to know what’s going on.”

  “What’s your hurry?” Sapphira asked. “It seems safe enough where we are.”

  “Until we learn everything that’s going on here, I won’t assume we’re safe.” He picked up the lantern. “Anyone want to join me?”

  Sapphira sighed. “I guess I should. I know exactly where it is.”

  “No!” Paili shook her head and grabbed Sapphira’s hand. “Not the deep hole!”

  Acacia gently pulled Paili away from Sapphira and hugged her close. “I’ll stay with the girls. If Mardon doesn’t know what’s in this chamber, maybe we should set up a home here.”

  Elam nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

  Sapphira picked up a scroll from the fire and tapped out the flames. “I’ll use this if the lantern fuel runs out.”

  Sapphira and Elam hurried along the corridor, Elam staying a step or two in front. They passed the original portal chamber and wound through the meandering corridor that led to the laborers’ hovels. When they reached the lift platform, Elam paused and stared at the cudgel and metal plate hanging on the wall. “We don’t want to wake Chazaq, that’s for sure, but he might not be down there, anyway.”

  Sapphira touched the warped plate, making it swing like a pendulum. “So we’re stuck?”

  “Looks that way.” Elam tugged the pulley rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s probably tied at the bottom.”

  “Do you know another way to get down?”

  “Sure. If you can climb down a rope.”

  Sapphira tapped her foot on the platform. “You mean there’s room to squeeze between the wall and this board?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never done it before. But once you get past the passenger platforms, there’s probably lots of room, and going down should be pretty easy.”

  “True, but we also have to get back.” Sapphira laid the scroll down and grabbed the rope with both hands. She pulled herself off her feet and dangled in the air. Her arms weren’t as strong as when she was digging for magnetite and chiseling out chambers, but she felt pretty confident she could lower herself to the mining level. Dropping back to the platform, she pointed at the lantern. “What about our light?”

  “Not a problem.” Elam unfastened his belt and looped it through the lantern’s handle, then tied it in place. “As long as we get down before it burns a hole in my clothes.” He pulled his sleeves over his hands, latched onto the rope, and began sliding down with his back against the side wall, but the lantern bumped ag
ainst the platform, keeping him from descending.

  Sapphira pushed against the side wall to make the gap wider. “Good thing you’re going first.”

  After sliding down farther, he paused, his face now the only part of his body above the platform. As a breeze from below blew his hair into a frenzy, he smiled. “Don’t worry. If Nabal’s down there, I’ll chase him away with his own whip.”

  He slid out of sight, and the lantern’s glow faded, leaving Sapphira in almost complete darkness. She groped for the scroll and tied it in her own belt, then copied Elam’s descent. Being smaller than Elam, she managed to squeeze herself and the scroll between the platform and wall without help.

  When she slid into the gap between levels, only the glow from Elam’s lantern colored the darkness, providing just enough light to illuminate the rope that stretched between them. With a cool draft breezing up from below, she felt like a dim island in a blowing sea of blackness, following a guide she really barely knew at all. Of course she could trust him, couldn’t she?

  Feeling exposed and helpless, she continued sliding, concentrating on a mental image of Elam’s noble face and chivalrous manner. This young gentleman wasn’t anything like the bestial monsters in Nimrod’s lust-filled temples. He would never entertain the idea of taking advantage of a girl.

  Elam pushed each succeeding platform out of the way with his feet. When he finally reached the mining level, he swung off the rope and held out his hand to her. She took his hand, and when she planted her feet on the board, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He untied the lantern and gazed into the mining cavern. “For what? Taking your hand?”

  “That’s part of it.” Sapphira pulled the scroll from her belt. “It’s hard to explain.”

  Without looking back at her, Elam nodded and walked out into the cool chamber. “I think I know what you mean.”

  She pulled up alongside him and breathed at the lantern. “Time to sleep for a while,” she said. The wick immediately darkened, leaving only the billowing glow from the nearby magma river. She strode ahead and waved for Elam to follow. “No giants in sight. Let’s go.”

  The two hustled along the trench, probing deeper into the dimmer recesses of the chamber. The coolness of the stale air chilled Sapphira’s hands and cheeks, and just when she thought about relighting the lantern, the distant radiance of the abyss caught her eye.

  Sapphira slowed to a creeping tiptoe, Elam at her side. When they neared the edge, he laid a hand on her shoulder and took the next two steps alone, craning his neck forward to peek down into the strangely illuminated hole. Sapphira edged to his side again and peered down with him.

  The streams of light that swirled to the surface looked like a morning mist caught in a gentle eddy. When the gemstones on the walls of the abyss absorbed the streams, the crystalline facets seemed to exhale them in a more consistent, static glow that rose toward the ceiling.

  Elam whispered into Sapphira’s ear. “Only one way to find out what’s down there.”

  “Talk to it?” she asked. The Ovulum began to warm in her pocket. “Are you sure?”

  “Why not? If whatever is down there could get out, wouldn’t it have escaped a long time ago?”

  “Good point.” The Ovulum grew so warm, it began to sting her leg. She took a step away from the pit. “But if it’s what I think it is, I’m not sure we should talk to it at all.”

  Elam glanced back at her. “What do you think it is?”

  “A bunch of evil spirits called Watchers. I read a scroll that said they would be sent to the abyss in the lowest realms.”

  “How do you know they’re evil?”

  “The scroll said so.”

  Elam looked down at the ground for a moment, a pained expression on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” Sapphira asked. “The song again?”

  “I’m not sure.” Elam covered one ear with his hand. “It’s like the song’s stuck in my mind. I don’t know if it’s a voice or just a memory, but the words keep coming back.”

  “And you can’t ignore it?”

  “I’m trying to.” He uncovered his ear and stared at her, giving her a weak, forced smile. “Anyway, can you trust who wrote that scroll of yours? I mean, if Morgan told me something was evil, I would think it was probably good. How do you know what to trust?”

  “I’ve thought about that too many times to count. I think ”

  A low moan sounded from the abyss, growing in volume as voices of varying pitches joined in. One of the moans transformed into a string of words, lament streaking its tone.

  “Does a valiant warrior from above seek to rescue the downtrodden? We are wretched creatures who have been condemned to eternal torment, and we have suffered for century after century in this cold, desolate hole. Without trunk or limb, we cannot climb the walls to freedom. Without a savior to hear our appeals for forgiveness, we lie here doomed forever.”

  Sapphira took another step back, but Elam leaned closer. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  She jumped ahead and latched onto his arm. “Elam, don’t.”

  The swirling light collected at the top of the hole, white at first, but it split into multicolored streams that rose above ground level and formed into a vertical, elliptical aura. “We have many names,” the voice continued. “Come and help us.”

  With each word, the rainbow colors shimmered across the aura’s surface, making it look like a dimensional viewing screen, much like the one the Ovulum had made except more lovely to behold, with dazzling colors waltzing in its ghostly glow instead of a flat, dull red. It also seemed deeper, richer, more captivating as its allure drew them closer, step by step.

  The Ovulum stung Sapphira’s leg again. “Ow!” She jumped back. “The Eye of the Oracle doesn’t want us to listen.”

  “Ah!” the voice continued, now without a lamenting tone. “There are two of you, and a young female doubts our words.” The colors in the aura formed into the image of a face, a noble-looking man with a strong chin, flashing eyes, and flowing silver hair. Its lips moved in sync with the voice. “I am a Seraph, an angel of Elohim and king of the watching guardians. My kind fought with the dragons, and our battle brought about the great flood that plunged us here to Tartarus. All I need is a courageous young man who is willing to forsake timid, female counsel and climb down to carry us to freedom.”

  As Elam turned toward Sapphira, his eyes darted wildly.

  Heat surged into Sapphira’s cheeks, and she backed away another step. “No, Elam. He’s lying. I know he is.”

  Elam grimaced. He lifted his hands toward his ears, then jerked them back down. “How can you be so sure? My father believed in Elohim and his angels. Maybe the voice in the abyss is telling the truth.”

  Sapphira held up the scroll. It trembled in her hand, matching her quivering voice. “I believe Enoch. He was a prophet who warned the Watchers about their evil ways. They were Seraphim who made war against Elohim and his dragons.”

  Elam stared at the scroll. “Does Enoch say that Elohim had dragons?”

  “I don’t remember!” She waved it in front of him. “But you won’t find the stories in this scroll! Enoch’s is a different one! It’s still hidden in my dugout.”

  The voice in the aura spoke again, the lamenting tone returning. “Alas! It is true young Elam. Enoch warned us about fighting against the dragons. We thought they were allies of the first dragon, Lucifer, the prince of rebels against Elohim. Go and read Enoch’s scroll. You will see that we are angels who did not join Lucifer’s prideful quest to unseat the Holy One. To our shame, however, we followed an ill-advised course that brought about our banishment. Now, in our sorrow and contrition, we beg for escape so we can fly to the mercy seat of Elohim and plead for forgiveness.”

  Sapphira balled her hand into a fist. “I don’t believe a word he’s saying, Elam. He’s lying. I can feel it.”

  The voice grew louder. “E
lam, you have heard the song of truth in your ears. Why trust the ever-fluctuating feelings of this little girl? Read Enoch for yourself. Gather your own strength and wisdom and follow the course set before you by trusting your heart of gold.”

  Elam stared at the noble face, then at Sapphira. With each glance, his expression stayed the same stern, cautious, maybe carrying a hint of fear. He stalked away from the abyss, and as he passed Sapphira, he wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “Stay here,” he ordered, nodding at his fingers. He then broke into a jog through the trench, calling behind him. “I’ll be back.”

  As Elam’s sandal thumps died away, a chill passed across Sapphira’s skin. He had acted so strangely! What did the wiggling fingers mean? But she couldn’t ask now. She was alone with a demon, or maybe a bunch of demons. Who could tell how many? And knowing that they probably couldn’t escape did little to ease her mind. She edged back into the darkness, letting her feet pad noiselessly from toe to heel. She didn’t want that . . . that thing to know she was still around, but as its light cast a glow over her retreating body, she couldn’t shake the chilling fear.

  A loud click sounded from somewhere beyond the abyss. The angel’s image vibrated. “Is someone still here?” he asked.

  Sapphira halted. The angel probably couldn’t see her at all. That face was just a projection of some kind, and the eyes were really blind.

  The click sounded again. “Someone is here,” the angel said. “Who is it?”

  Sapphira held her breath. Elam had gone the other way, so he didn’t make the noise, and she had never gone farther than the pit, so she had no idea what could be beyond it. Bats, maybe? Something worse? She took another quiet step backwards.

  A coarse, female voice crashed through the silence. “Well, if it isn’t little Miss Mara!”

  The chill pierced Sapphira’s heart and made her freeze in place. Morgan! Sapphira scanned the chamber in the direction of the voice, but the pit’s brilliant aura blinded her.

  Framed by the angel’s shining profile, Morgan’s familiar silhouette sashayed around the abyss, her face shadowed. Still, Sapphira could imagine the evil smile on Morgan’s lips just from the crackling sarcasm in her voice. “So nice of you to greet me at the back door, Mara dear. You must have known the front door was locked, so you rushed down here to form a welcoming party with Samyaza.”