The Bones of Makaidos

by Bryan Davis

  Flashing a grin, Sapphira looked up at Bonnie, her blue eyes sparkling in the midst of her fiery aura. “Giving up?”

  “Never!”

  Bonnie dug in and pushed with her legs, but Sapphira didn’t budge an inch. Bonnie glanced at the smaller girl’s bulging shoulder muscles. So much strength in such a small package!

  After several seconds of stalemate, Sapphira glanced away and gasped. “Oh! Will you look at that?”

  Bonnie tilted her head upward. “Look at what?”

  “The sky!” Sapphira planted a foot in Bonnie’s stomach and shoved her backwards.

  Bonnie fell on her bottom with a thud and nearly completed a somersault before flattening herself on her back. “Such a fiend!” she shouted, a laugh shaking her voice. “Thou hast deceived me, rogue!”

  Sapphira marched forward, set her foot on Bonnie’s stomach again, and spoke in mock lament. “Oh, woe is me! I am smitten with anguish over my dastardly plot to fell this fair maiden! I deserve nothing but scorn for my vileness.”

  Bonnie grabbed her ankle and pushed her away. As Sapphira stumbled, Bonnie jumped up and shoved her again, knocking her flat. Then, with a mighty heave, Bonnie plunged the sword between Sapphira’s fiery chest and arm and into the turf behind her.

  Splaying her limbs, Sapphira cried out, “Thou hast delivered thy revenge in full measure, O virtuous maiden. If perchance I see you in the hereafter, I will be your eternal servant!” Her head lolled to the side, her tongue protruding. For a moment, she didn’t move. Then a giggle erupted and grew into a full belly laugh.

  Bonnie yanked out her sword. A dozen corny replies came to mind, but when she tried to speak, she just sputtered and laughed. This show was definitely over.

  A third laugh joined theirs, then a clapping of hands. The Maid, her aura as bright as the sun, sang out with delight. “A wonderful performance, my friends! Your swordplay was excellent and your footwork exquisite. You are now the finest of sword maidens.”

  Sapphira climbed to her feet and saluted with her sword. “And the best of actors, don’t you think?”

  The Maid smiled. “Of all the sword-bearing actors I have seen in this realm, you two are the best.”

  Bonnie gave her an exaggerated bow. “You do us an ambiguous honor, fair Maid.”

  After another round of laughter, Bonnie slid her sword into a scabbard at her hip. “Can you tell us now?” She stared into The Maid’s eyes. Her fiery orbs turned solemn, pensive. She had told them earlier that she had received a message from Abaddon, but she wasn’t free to release it until the final swordplay examination was complete. They had studied every stance, every move, even every verbal joust from “En garde” to their dramatic Old English wordplays. They were ready for the next step.

  The Maid nodded. “The time has come, my dear friends.”

  Sapphira hooked her arm around Bonnie’s and leaned against her. “To go to Second Eden?”

  “Perhaps. Abaddon has learned that your friends now have enough information, and their wisdom will likely guide them to attempt a call. At the very least, you should prepare for the journey.”

  Bonnie looked down at Sapphira’s ovulum, still in its pouch. “So we’ll shrink down into eggs, too?”

  “Not you,” The Maid said, “for the two of you entered here alive.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “I guess I don’t understand all the rules. Will we arrive fully grown? I assumed my father did, because they needed a doctor, but I heard that most of them show up there as babies.”

  “The rules, as you put it, are fairly simple. One who has died goes to Second Eden in the form in which he or she arrived here. Most were killed as unborn babies, so they go to Second Eden in uterine plants that complete the gestations. Your father was too big for a plant, so he simply appeared in his adult form, like a flower sprouting from the soil. There are, however, a few exceptions. Roxil came here as Abigail, a human who died in a terrible plunge from the Bridgelands to Second Eden.”

  She raised a pair of fingers and continued. “Since that was her second demise, she passed into a state in which her body had to be regenerated by other means than the usual straightforward resurrection. Abaddon decided to use a birthing plant. He thought it would take a full nine months in the plant, but her rebirth was nearly instantaneous.”

  “Do you know why?” Bonnie asked.

  “I have a theory.” The Maid touched her sternum. “A crystalline egg dangled from her necklace. I know not what it was, but it had the aura of life within, so I assume that it provided the energy to regenerate her body.”

  Sapphira looked up at Bonnie. “That’s the egg I told you about, the one that formed from the diamonds I collected when Timothy’s tears fell from the sky.”

  “What about Timothy?” Bonnie asked. “He died three times. Does he need an egg’s energy, too?”

  “Abaddon and I have discussed this, and he thinks Timothy, or Makaidos, as we came to know him, will need that and more. His sacrifice was singular in that he gave up his right to have his soul resurrected. Even now as his body grows in a birthing plant, it will not come to fruition without three steps.” The Maid raised a finger. “The first step is the call. The plant will wither and die without his name being verbally called by those who need his aid.” She lifted another finger. “The second step is the crystal, for the body inside will not quicken without the necessary energy from his previous life. And the third step,” she said, raising another finger, “is a sacrifice, the willing death of an innocent lamb, and the blood of the lamb must be applied to the plant to restore the soul of the one being reborn.”

  Sapphira gave her a quizzical look. “A sacrifice? Who?”

  “Ah! But that is not for you to know. Since the lamb will make the decision without coercion either to sacrifice or withdraw, no one will be told ahead of time; neither you, nor I, nor Abaddon, nor even the lamb.” Like a glowing tong touching a flaming coal, The Maid caressed Sapphira’s cheek. “Who knows? Perhaps even you will be the one to offer your body to the wolves of Second Eden.”

  Bonnie watched as Sapphira stared at The Maid, their faces glowing and fresh, yet so serious. Was Sapphira thinking about becoming the sacrifice? Had her thousands of years of life and suffering been a preparation for an ultimate sacrificial act? She had to be in turmoil. She wanted to be united with Elam, but if that was really what God wanted, why weren’t they together already? Why was it taking so long?

  Filled with a blend of joy and heartache, The Maid’s eyes communicated empathy. Somehow she understood the impact of her words, what it meant to be offered to the wolves. At the center of each pupil, a flame erupted. Shaped like a teardrop, the fire consumed something in its midst, a girl … a weeping girl.

  Blinking away the image, Bonnie cleared her throat. “But there’s something strange about all this. The Second Edeners couldn’t have known about the three things necessary for Makaidos to be reborn. If they had called him too soon, he would have—”

  “Come back as a corpse,” The Maid said. “And that would have been tragic, truly tragic.”

  Sapphira shook her head as if throwing off a trance. “So … I guess it’s really fortunate that it worked out the way it did.”

  “Fortunate?” The Maid laughed again, her eyes merry. “You may call it that, but nothing in this matter has been left to chance. You heard Abaddon tell the story. Were you surprised that Elam allowed Angel to tell the lie? And did it seem odd to you that he commanded Paili to alter the poem?”

  “I was surprised,” Sapphira said. “It didn’t sound like something Elam would do at all.”

  “Elam prayed for wisdom. He received it. When God gave those words to Paili through Enoch, the delivery of the crystal and the sacrifice were planned, but certain events transpired that necessitated a change.”

  “Planned?” Sapphira repeated. “I know Ashley had a crystal, but who was supposed to be sacrificed?”

  “Once again you ask the identity of a potential lamb, but consider for
yourself the damage that could be done if you were to learn who the sacrifice was supposed to be, and then he or she chose not to walk the path of blood and fire.”

  Sapphira lowered her head. “I see what you mean.”

  “So Elam ordered the change,” Bonnie said, “because not everything was ready for Makaidos to rise.”

  “Yes.” The Maid’s flames heightened. “Is it not an exciting thought to ponder? Even Elam was unaware of the reason, yet God moved his heart to do what appeared to be a mistake in many eyes.”

  “Especially since it gave rise to Goliath,” Bonnie added. “That still looks like a mistake.”

  “Indeed it would to eyes that see through a glass darkly. Perhaps if you are called to that world, you will witness how the results of that decision unfold. Even the return of Goliath has a reason behind it.” The Maid laid a hand over her heart. “Every call to life is an echo of a longing in the heart of the caller. It is like a thunder within, a drum that beats without a rhythm, yet it searches for the power to set the thrumming into a new heartbeat for the resurrected loved one. It combines words of love with the music of sacrifice and the rhythm of a disciplined purpose. All of these create passion, a heart set on fire, and without that fire, no one can be reborn.”

  Bonnie let the lovely words soak in. They seemed true, yet mysterious. Maybe they would become clear later when she needed them. “But will we remember what we learned here?” She lifted her sword. “It would be a shame to forget all the fighting techniques and the stories you and Abaddon have told us.”

  “Since you are alive, there is no need for you to revert to the form with which you entered this land. You will go to Second Eden four years older and four years wiser, remembering all that happened here. In fact, you will not even need the ovulum. Its usefulness has now passed away.”

  Bonnie looked down at her body. Although ripples of fire coated her clothes and skin, there was no doubt about the changes—subtle, yes, but she had definitely matured from a girl to a woman.

  “Shall we go to the resurrection table?” The Maid asked as she extended a hand to each of them.

  Sapphira removed the ovulum from its pouch and set it on the ground. “I’m ready,” she said, taking her hand.

  Bonnie slid her hand into The Maid’s. When they touched, it seemed that a holy warmth radiated from her fingers and pulsed throughout her body. “How long will we be there?” Bonnie asked.

  “Until they call you.” The Maid walked with them along the edge of the river. “There is nothing more to tell.”

  As they walked, the image of the hourglass entered Bonnie’s mind. The dragon’s scaly hand would grip it and turn it over, beginning the process of waiting for the Second Eden dwellers to make the call. When the last grain of sand fell to the lower glass, their transport would take place, but how many times would Abaddon have to turn the hourglass over?

  Bonnie checked the staurolite dagger in a sheath at her belt. It didn’t really make any difference. No matter how long they had to wait, she and Sapphira would be ready.

  Billy stood with his back against the cave’s dead end wall. It had taken hours to gather everything they needed, and transporting them to Second Eden had been a nightmare. Since the portal opening contracted every hour or so, he had to reopen it four times. Twice he stepped back into the cave to reopen it with Excalibur, and twice he opened it from the Earth side using the new Apollo.

  He looked around at his companions. Each one held a light of some kind to help ward off the shadow people. Yereq, who had to hunch way over to avoid the cave’s ceiling, carried two sets of scuba diving gear, two tanks under his arm and the other pieces in a backpack he lifted by a strap on his shoulder. Billy’s mother and Gabriel had used the equipment several times in the flooded mine tunnels, but not lately. Only Yereq had not given up the search. Since he was able to hold his breath for almost ten minutes, he dove without gear.

  Billy’s mother, decked out in a scuba dry suit, had packed her clothes and her pistol in a duffle. She carried a two-person inflatable raft, though they hoped to squeeze three inside for the dangerous journey. Since Elam had told of his own survival after plunging down the exit waterfall even during flood stage, it seemed reasonable that three in a raft could make it, especially with three others swimming in the river to help them right the boat if it capsized.

  Ashley held up the ion box and spoke into it. “Gabriel, are you ready?”

  The box pulsed with light.

  “Everyone else?” Ashley asked.

  Lifting his legs up and down, Billy looked at his mother. “I could use another lesson, and this diving suit doesn’t quite fit, but I’m ready.”

  She set her hand over her nose. “Just don’t forget to hold your mask and regulator in place. When we splash down after the falls, the impact might jerk them off.”

  He gave her a thumbs-up. “Gotcha.”

  Walter stepped out in front, Excalibur in his grip. The beam shot out into the darkness. “My guess is that with all of us here, the shadow people might not bother us, but let’s go double time anyway.”

  Kicking into a fast jog, he led the way. Yereq followed, still hunched over as he pounded his huge boots, apparently trying to ward away any shadowy lurkers.

  Billy ran a few steps behind the giant. The combination of Yereq’s thudding feet and his own squeaking suit sounded strange, like bats succumbing to hammer blows. He waved a scuba flashlight back and forth along the cave floor. No sign of shadow people. Where could they have gone? Since it was now dark outside, maybe they were congregating between the cave and the river again. Not knowing where they were seemed worse than facing them. The advantage of surprise was on their side.

  When they reached the cave entrance, Walter paused and searched the area, using the beam to illuminate the ground and nearby trees. Again, no shadow people.

  He resumed jogging, slower now. Yereq straightened his body and followed, obviously taking care to silence his thunderous gait.

  Billy suppressed a laugh. Such a huge man running on tiptoes seemed comical, but this was dead serious. He had to keep a straight face.

  When all six arrived at the river, Billy dug the scuba gear out of Yereq’s pack, while his mother turned on the raft’s inflation motor. Although the rush of the river was loud enough to drown out the motor and any whisper, no one spoke a word.

  Once Billy and his mother had strapped on their gear, including an air tank and buoyancy compensator, they waded into the river with Yereq. Billy clenched his teeth together, forcing them not to chatter. Even with a scuba dry suit, the chill seemed to plunge knives into his bones. He clipped the waterproof flashlight onto his belt and let his body shiver. At least that was a quiet way to suffer.

  While Ashley, Walter, and Tamara climbed into the raft, Billy searched the sky and the surrounding sand. Still nothing. No shadow people or dragons. Something was up. Something big.

  Yereq swam into the flow and dove under. With a final kick, he disappeared. He would be the first to brave the plunge to the next level and wait in the pool to support the raft when it fell.

  Walter pulled Tamara’s hood up for her. Since she was wearing Billy’s cloak, the hood and sleeves seemed to swallow her body. It would cover her well when it was time to blast through the wall of flames.

  Billy looked over the surrounding mountains, but Abraham’s wall was not in sight. The clouds must have been very thick tonight to mask its usual glow.

  Walter doused Excalibur, leaving the area in total darkness. Billy pulled his mask down and inserted the regulator. It was time to go for it.

  Placing their hands on a rope attached to the back of the raft, he and his mother guided it to the center of the river and let the current take over. As they picked up speed, he listened to the waterfall’s heightening rumble. Within seconds the icy river would send them hurtling through the air and then straight down.

  Suddenly, the water fell away. Holding his mask and regulator in place with one hand and the rope
in the other, Billy twisted and dropped feetfirst. When he plunged in, he pulled on the rope to haul himself back to the surface. A light flashed on from the bouncing raft, and Ashley’s face appeared at the back. She shone the beam in his eyes.

  “Are you all right?” she whisper shouted.

  Billy pulled out his regulator. Spray from the pounding water flew all around and tossed droplets on the flashlight’s lens. “I think so.”

  Ashley shifted the beam to Billy’s right, illuminating his mother. “You okay, Mrs. B?”

  “Fine. And Yereq?”

  “He’s good. He’s getting ready to guide the front end.”

  The light flicked off. As the current pushed the raft forward and out of the deep pool, Billy reinserted the regulator and dove under water. He grabbed his flashlight, turned it on, and pointed the beam up at the raft’s bottom, allowing him to follow its course. Immediately to his right, his mother set her beam on the riverbed. Although it was made up of sand and pebbles, they had to watch for sharp projections that might rise up ahead.

  The flashlights’ glow provided a view of Yereq’s feet as he kicked. Since the river was only about four feet deep here, his powerful legs churned up sand at the bottom, clouding their view.

  Soon, the channel deepened, and the bottom cleared again. Instead of sand, slabs of rock appeared, black with sparkling crystals embedded within that made the bed look like a star-filled nightscape. A hole appeared ahead, so deep, the bottom of the river seemed to fall away into nothingness. The hole’s surrounding walls were covered with the same crystalline stars.

  Billy studied one of the crystals. It didn’t merely reflect the flashlight; it seemed to radiate a light of its own.

  As they drifted over the hole, the bitter cold jabbed deeper into his body. Queasiness turned his stomach. He shivered hard, so hard his beam shook on the bottom of the raft.

  His mother aimed her light at herself and raised her eyebrows as if to ask how he was doing. Billy laid a hand on his stomach and shook his head. Whatever the problem was, it seemed to be getting worse, a lot worse.