by Bryan Davis
“The boy has a violin bow. Have him extend it toward me, and I will lay the book over it. Then he can raise it to your level.”
“When I sing it,” Cerulean said, his sounds still translated by Patar, “will everyone rise along with me?”
“While we were trapped in the void, it worked for the two who were with me, and they were no closer to me than I am to you. After a few seconds, we fell back, but I assume with the lack of gravity we will not experience that problem.”
Cerulean turned to Nathan and nodded. Nathan lowered the tip of the bow to the stalker’s level. Leaving the book open, Tsayad turned it over and laid it face down.
Without gravity, Nathan had no trouble lifting the laden bow. Cerulean slid the book off, then, turning away from the stalker, he began to study the two facing pages in the light of his own aura.
As two other stalkers joined Tsayad, he sang again. “I trust you to complete the words you have spoken,” he said. “We have heard that a supplicant cannot lie.”
“You have heard correctly.” Cerulean kept his stare riveted on the book.
Nathan leaned toward Cerulean, but the page was too dark to read. The musical notes looked like vague smudges on blurry lines, and extra marks, like hieroglyphics with wild swirls, filled the gaps between the staffs.
After a few seconds, Cerulean looked at him. “You would not understand this music, Nathan. It is more than mere notes; it carries meanings that transcend simple sounds in the air. As a supplicant, I can give it poetic voice in your language, so we will not require an interpreter.”
“What should the rest of us do? Just watch and listen?”
Cerulean’s smile dressed his face in a mysterious aspect. “For the power of heaven to pull you upward, all you have to do is surrender to its call.”
While Daryl Blue looped her arm around Nathan’s, Daryl Red locked arms on his other side, and Nathan held the bow upright in front of them. Letting the songbook float in their midst, Cerulean completed the circle, and Patar stood on the outside of their gathering, looking as somber as ever.
Cerulean tilted his head upward and, glancing at the book every few seconds, crooned in a strong baritone.
O let the winds arise and bear
The faithful ones who heed the song.
With hearts of love we draw the breath
That gives us wings and makes us strong.
As soon as the last note died away, a fragrant breeze kicked up from below. Nathan breathed in the aroma, expecting the usual touch of roses, but it carried a blend of wonderful smells — vanilla, sage, horsehide, jasmine — just about every scent he had ever loved.
With the wind blowing through his clothes, his sweat dried, cooling his body, but he couldn’t tell which way they were going. Were they falling? The rising air seemed to indicate that, but the slightest feeling of weight said otherwise. Apparently this rush lifted them higher and higher.
About ten feet below, three white-topped heads were the only clue that the stalkers ascended as well. Above, a golden light came into view, getting bigger and brighter by the second. Soon, Amber’s form clarified, and in her glow, Nathan’s parents quickly took shape. Kelly was still cradled in his father’s arms. His mother and Amber had bent their knees fully, keeping their dresses in place as they rose.
When Nathan’s group caught up, the breeze strengthened, lifting everyone at the same rate. Nathan handed Daryl Red the bow and extended his arms. “Mind if I take her again?”
“Not at all.” His father transferred Kelly to him. “She’s breathing fine. She’s been talking in her sleep, but I can’t understand what she’s saying. Something about Scarlet.”
“I’ll bet Scarlet’s talking to her in her dreams. I’ll try to — ” Something slid down Nathan’s arm, like a snake slithering from shoulder to hand.
Daryl Blue cried out, “The rope!” She wrapped her fingers loosely around the line and let it slide through her hand. “We must be getting close.”
Light appeared above. Soon, the golden strings of Sarah’s violin shimmered in the glow, and the upper chamber materialized, including the ceiling’s rocky promontory that held the staircase leading down from the stalkers’ world.
When they reached the rim, they slowed to a stop and bobbed on the rising wind, which bubbled around them and spread out to the sides, as if the Womb had become a boiling pot. Nathan glanced around. On one side of the core he spotted Mictar, standing only a foot or so to the right of the strings that spanned the void. As the wind brushed against them, a faint sound emanated, a sweet hum, barely audible in the midst of the noise coming from the upper reaches.
The flow pushed Nathan toward the opposite edge of the hole, but with his body floating just high enough to keep his torso elevated above the rim and with Kelly in his arms, he couldn’t reach for the side.
A hefty tug jerked him upward, then plopped him down on his bottom at the edge of the hole, leaving his legs dangling. He twisted and found Daryl Blue hanging on to the rope and the back of his sweatshirt.
“Tarzan’s got nothing on me,” she said, grinning.
With the ground vibrating beneath him, Nathan laid Kelly down, and Daryl helped him scoot her safely away from the edge. The others swam with the current, Daryl Red still clutching the huge bow. When they all reached the edge and climbed to solid ground, the three stalkers bubbled to the surface and body-surfed the breeze to the side on which Mictar stood.
As Nathan helped his father to his feet, his mother knelt at Kelly’s side and dabbed her grimy cheeks with the hem of her dress. The low hum from above grew louder. Now it carried a thrumming beat that drilled into Nathan’s body and made his heart quiver.
Across the void, Tsayad lifted his head and sang out a stream of vowel sounds, wretched notes that seemed to burn in the air.
“He calls my people,” Patar said. “They have no basket by which to descend, but they could create problems with their voices. If the healer plays the violin, they are sure to try to corrupt the music.”
Nathan searched for a hidden door but saw nothing. “I heard there’s a secret passage. Can they get down here that way?”
“I created that for Abodah and my children. No one else knows of its existence.”
“What’s shaking the ground?”
“I deduce that two influences are at work — Sarah’s violin is being brushed by the wind, and Lucifer’s engine is being stirred by Mictar and his allies. You must play the strings before Lucifer is fully awakened.”
Nathan looked at the opposite bank. Mictar, tall and pale, walked to the edge of the void; then, as though wading into a pond, he stepped into the bubbling current. While the upwelling breezes filled out his clothes and swung his ponytail, he lifted his violin and began to play. The strings squealed. The hum from above strengthened and rose in pitch. The door in the upper promontory opened, revealing a pair of stalkers, one man and one woman. As if conducted by the sway of Mictar’s bow, they sang along with the horrible noise.
Glass shattered and fell to the ground. Nathan looked up. Barely visible through a gap near the upper walls, he could see the image of one of the three Earths. Wide cracks shot out from it, breaking the crystalline wall and sending shards down through the gap.
As the ground continued to shake, Patar took the bow from Daryl and propped it in front of Nathan. “It is time to do battle.”
Cerulean stepped to the edge. “Amber and I can end this conflict. Mictar is no match for us.”
“He has gained great power from Kelly’s life forces,” Patar said, “and his violin is far more powerful than you know. If, however, you wish to try, then go. Even if you are killed, you will sink into the Womb and join Scarlet in healing the wounds.”
“No! I’m going to do it.” Nathan wrapped his fingers around the bow. His palms still blazed with pain, but it didn’t matter. Kelly lay near death on the ground, her eyes burned out. Even if she could survive outside of this world, because of that foul beast, she would never see ag
ain. It was time to settle this once and for all. For Earths Red, Yellow, and Blue, and for Kelly, he would go to war with that monster, and he would prevail.
“How’re you going to get out there?” Daryl Blue asked. “That current’s pretty stiff.”
He lifted his arms. “Tie the rope to my waist. I’ve done this before; I can do it again.”
While his father wrapped the line around Nathan’s body to form a makeshift harness, his mother took each Daryl by an arm. “We have to work the finger board. Come with me. I’ll show you how.”
With the knot now fastened, Nathan gave his father a nod. “I’m going to get a running start, but I’ll need you to give me a push every time I swing back here.”
“You got it. Now go out there and give it all you’ve got.”
“I will, Dad.” Nathan almost added, “Just like you’ve taught me.” But he already knew. They both knew.
His father glanced upward. “Uh-oh. More trouble. One of those stalkers is trying to cut the rope with a piece of glass.”
22
FRIENDS FOREVER
Nathan looked up at the staircase. The female stalker continued to sing while the male sawed away at his lifeline. “I can’t worry about that now. Let’s just hope it isn’t sharp.”
After taking a last look at Kelly, he gripped the bow with both hands and charged toward the void. When he reached the edge, he leaped out. For a brief moment, he dropped, but the rope tightened, and the updraft lifted him as he passed over the center just out of Mictar’s reach.
As the arc took him higher, he shifted his body to a horizontal position and pointed his head toward the golden strings. He glanced at the fingerboard. His mother and the two Daryls were in position. His hands aching, he stretched the bow downward and played the first note. As he passed over the strings, the sound roared past his body, sending an electrical shock across his sweat-dampened skin. The sensation shot from head to toe and stung his hands mercilessly, nearly making him drop the bow.
He gripped it tighter. Playing every note would be excruciating, but he had to go on. He suddenly lowered a notch. The stalkers in the stairwell must have cut through part of the rope. He was probably dangling by only a few fibers now, but there was no use looking, even if he could.
Swinging back with his feet pointing toward his father, he stroked the proper string. This time he had already passed by, so the shock didn’t affect him, but a loud rumble echoed in response, shaking the ground. His mother fell off her string, but Daryl Blue was there to help her up while Daryl Red jumped to the next position.
Though his shoulders slumped a bit, Mictar played on. Soon, a louder, deeper roar sounded from above. Resembling a dark waterfall, a black stream poured out from the open door leading to the staircase, knocking the two stalkers from their perch. The female stalker fell only inches from Nathan and clawed at him as she passed, but missed. Like thick oil, the river of blackness flowed, covering the two stalkers and plunging them into the void in spite of the upward breeze.
A hefty push on his shoes sent Nathan flying toward the strings again. He had to pull in an elbow to avoid the spilling blackness, but he passed it without harm. As he swung by, he glanced at Mictar. An evil, confident smile spread across his face.
Nathan took in a breath and stretched the bow down. He couldn’t worry about what the stalker was doing. Concentrating on the violin meant everything, and with another shock about to surge through his body, that was quite enough.
Again he played a note. Again the sound jolted his frame. But he just gritted his teeth and pressed on. No matter how bad the pain, he couldn’t let anything stop him now.
Back and forth he went. His mother and the two Daryls jumped from string to string, falling down after every note as the violin’s ground-shaking music rattled the chamber. His father’s shoves kept him swinging, each carrying an emotional boost as well as a physical one.
The wind from below eased to a gentle draft. Mictar sank lower, but he didn’t seem to mind. When he had descended about ten feet, he began to rise again, now standing on solid ground, a flat black surface.
As soon as the new foundation reached the top of the former hole, he stopped playing and lowered his violin. The black stream stopped flowing. A final few drops spilled to the new floor and hardened in place, and the roar from above ceased.
Nathan played the key’s final note, and as he swung back, he called out, “Dad. Catch me. I’m done.”
Strong arms grasped his legs and turned his body upright. Nathan tried to stand, but his legs shook so hard, they barely gave enough support. While his father hurriedly untied the knot, his mother and the Daryls rushed his way.
“What’s going on?” Daryl Red called.
Patar stood between Cerulean and Amber, his arms crossed as he stared at Mictar. “My brother has used Lucifer to fill Sarah’s Womb with physical darkness. Sarah can no longer coordinate the great dance, so no matter how much healing the great violin’s music brought to the Earths, they will no longer be able to hear her song, and they will drift away. Unless we employ our final strategy, all three are surely doomed.”
“Final strategy?” Nathan asked. “You mean, kill the supplicants?”
Mictar let out a loud cackle. “And where will they go, dear brother? I fear that lodging vacancies for dead supplicants are no longer available. Sarah’s Womb cannot echo their songs, so their deaths will do nothing to stop my plans.”
Patar didn’t flinch. “And you plan to let two Earths perish while you uphold Yellow with your dissonant choir.”
Mictar played a fast, squealing measure on his violin. “I am especially fond of Francesca of that world. Since her husband is dying, she will become my pretty plaything, a ballerina who dances to my merry music.”
Nathan balled his fists. Gritting his teeth, he whispered to Patar, “Can’t Cerulean take him out? He and Amber together could — ”
“No,” Patar said. “You take him out.”
“Me? But he’s so powerful now. When he got done with me, I’d be just another eyeless rag doll.”
“He is powerful — too powerful for the supplicants. That is why you must be the one.” Patar grabbed Nathan’s shoulder and jerked him around. “Will you now heed my words? I have overheard you extolling the virtues of faith. Is it not time for you to demonstrate with your actions what you so easily spew from your lips? You know you lack the power to defeat my brother. It is when you realize that your own strength is inadequate that real faith begins.”
Nathan looked at Kelly. Daryl Red held her in her lap, whispering into her ear. With her eyelids open, Kelly appeared to be awake.
He threw the bow down. After giving his parents one last glance, he took a deep breath and charged toward Mictar. As he approached the stalker, he kept his eyes wide open, staring right at his red orbs. His fists balled, he leaped, but with a lightning-fast spin Mictar dodged and grabbed Nathan’s hair. He spun Nathan in an orbit around his body, kicked him in the groin, and threw him to the ground.
Pain throttled Nathan’s mind. He could barely breathe. The stalker jerked him up by his hair again and suspended him several inches off the ground. “Take a last look at your friends. The harlot has merely lost her sight, but you will lose your life and soul. I will breathe it in, and you will die.”
“Patar!” Daryl Blue screamed. “Don’t just stand there! Help him!”
Patar crossed his arms over his chest. “Nathan has chosen his own path. His sacrifice is noble, and we must let him complete it. I will stop anyone who tries to interfere.”
Nathan’s father dashed ahead, but Patar grabbed his collar and threw him to the ground, then planted a foot on his chest. “Solomon Shepherd, do not play the fool. You should know by now that I understand these matters far better than anyone. No one else can stop my brother; not me, not you, and not the supplicants. If you will stand with me, I will let you rise.”
Solomon nodded. As Patar pulled him to his feet, Nathan’s mother joined them, cling
ing to her husband as she watched Nathan through tear-flooded eyes.
Mictar let out another loud laugh. “How appropriate. An audience of cowards will watch the death of the only one brave enough to challenge me.”
“Nathan?” Kelly cried out, her blank sockets wide open. “What’s happening?”
“He is sacrificing himself for your sake,” Patar said. “When it is over, I will deal with my brother.”
Mictar lowered Nathan until his feet touched the ground. With pain still paralyzing him, he couldn’t fight. He couldn’t even clench a fist.
“When I take this gifted one’s life,” Mictar said, “you and ten supplicants would be no match for me.”
Kelly reached out, wiggling her fingers as if trying to grasp the air. “Nathan,” she cried, “come back to me. If you die, I don’t want to live.”
Taking in a pain-filled breath, Nathan coughed and let out his words in a rush. “I wish I could, Kelly. I wish I — ”
Another kick silenced him. Mictar laid a hand over his eyes. “Now suffer and die.”.
Nathan took in another breath and tightened his muscles.Maybe it would happen quickly. Patar wouldn’t save him. He didn’t care about the death of one soul if it would help him save the Earths. He had made that clear many times.
Light flashed through Nathan’s eyelids, bringing a slight stinging sensation. Horrible pain would surely follow, then death. Maybe the next sight he would see would be his Savior standing with open arms, but what would Jesus say? Did he make the right decision? Did he leave anything important undone?
As the pain increased, a new surge of heat pushed up through his throat, then into his mouth. The scent of roses, stronger than ever, burst from within. There was something left undone, something more important than life itself.
He gulped in another breath. “Kelly,” he called, trying to keep his voice steady, “can you hear me?”
“Yes, Nathan.” She wept through her words. “Yes, I can hear you.”
“Kelly” — he licked his parched lips — “Kelly Clark, please forgive me for not telling you this before. It doesn’t matter what you did in the past. I love you, and I hope I’ll see you in heaven.”
