Eye of the Oracle oof-1

by Bryan Davis

  “I could talk pretty well when they brought me here, but ”

  “Brought you? Aren’t you an underborn?”

  “No. I was taken from my parents when I was little and made a slave here, but I learned how to talk better by listening to you.”

  “To me?”

  “Yes. I listen to the stories you tell Paili.”

  A strange tickle fluttered in Mara’s stomach, and a smile slowly spread across her face. “You do?”

  “Not every night, and I never said anything, because I didn’t want you to get in trouble, but it seemed safe enough to sit and listen.” He paused for a moment. “I like to hear about dragons flying through the sky.”

  “Me. .” Mara swallowed hard. “Me too.”

  Her heart pounded through another pause. Finally, Elam continued, his voice lower and faltering. “I’d. . I’d like to see the sky again. . someday.”

  “And a dragon,” Mara added.

  Elam’s voice perked up. “My father used to tell me about dragons. He even knew their names, and I made up stories about them.”

  Silence descended again, so heavy that Mara’s own breathing sounded like the rushing wind in the breezeway. “Do you miss your parents?” she asked.

  “Uh-huh. I miss them a lot.”

  “At least you had parents,” Mara said, furrowing her brow. “I never had any, so I don’t even have memories to cherish.”

  “Memories are a curse,” Elam countered. “Losing something you had is worse than never having it at all.” He let out a deep, piteous sigh. “But I guess you wouldn’t know. You’ve never had anything, have you?”

  “No. . I haven’t.” Mara’s lip quivered. She inserted her fingers into the hole. “Elam, please keep coming to listen. It’ll be good knowing you’re there.”

  Elam’s fingers meshed with hers. “I’ll come, but I can’t talk until after Nabal drinks himself to sleep. That’s when I go hunting for food. He eats most of my dinner.”

  The touch of his hand sent a wave of warmth through Mara’s body, radiating from head to toe and making her heart pound. She could barely squeak. “I’ll try to bring more food for you. Stay away from Nabal’s whip.”

  “I will.” His fingers withdrew, and the light faded away.

  Mara rolled to a sitting position and rested against the wall, trying to slow her heart. But it was all so exciting! Elam was the first laborer since Acacia who was smart enough to communicate, and he seemed so warm and friendly. She pulled her knees up to her chest, sighing. Yes, he was friendly. . and lonely.

  She glanced toward the hole, now a curtain of blackness. She imagined the dozens of times Elam must have groped for morsels of food. She had thrown a piece of cheese the first time thinking that a mouse might find that air vent into her hovel. Now that a flesh and blood person hunted there every night, she had to find a way to get as much food to him as she could. After all, working at the brick kilns was the hardest job in the lower worlds, so he was probably always hungry.

  Mara rose to her feet. She felt lighter somehow and wide awake, so there was no way she could go back to sleep. She pulled on her outer dress and crawled from the hovel. On the floor across the corridor, a weak light flickered in one of the lanterns that had been lined up for the girls to grab in the morning. Since wakeup call was only about an hour away, she might as well go ahead and report to her new job early.

  She lit one of the other lanterns and traced a path to the control room. After turning the lock wheel through its combination, she pushed open the door and padded toward the embryo table.

  As she passed by the growth chambers, she glanced at each sad face, pitiful spawns destined to die. When her light fell on the last pod in line, its familiar lips smiled. She lunged toward it and caressed its strong, thick stalk. “My spawn!”

  Another light flashed on. Mara spun around. Mardon stood over her, his lantern rocking back and forth in his hand. “What are you doing here?”

  She pressed down her wrinkled clothes. “Reporting for work.”

  Mardon stretched and yawned. “Is it morning already? I guess I fell asleep on the floor.”

  “Why is my spawn here? Is he ”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not going to be terminated. I moved him so you could take care of him while you worked here.”

  “Oh.” She laid her hand against her chest. “Thank you.”

  Mardon set his lantern on the worktable and rolled open the big scroll. “How many hours is Morgan allotting to this project?”

  “She decided to let me come all day.”

  “Really? That’s a surprise. I was hoping for just a few hours, but all day is even better.”

  “She even assigned Paili to food preparation.” Mara bit her tongue. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to tell him that. She didn’t want to explain the reason for Morgan’s kindness. “Could Morgan be in a good mood for a change?”

  “Not likely.” Mardon’s eyes moved toward the door, then returned to Mara. “Just watch your back. She’s probably up to something.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Well,” he said, waving toward the scroll, “let’s get started. You have a lot to learn.”

  Mara ran her finger along a line of numbers and, with a sharpened piece of graphite, added a new one to the end. “Okay,” she whispered to herself, “Mardon spliced Samyaza with Canaan for that set, and he blended those with” she pointed to another line “with the normal human pair, giving us. .” She bit her tongue and scratched down a long string of numbers before setting down her graphite and wiping her brow. “Whew! This is complicated!”

  After rolling up the scroll, she turned to her spawn and smiled. “I think I have it figured out. . uh. . what should I call you, anyway? You need a name.” She rested her chin in her hand. “How about Yereq? It means green. If you like it ”

  “Mara.” Mardon stomped into the room, his hand cupped in a cradle.

  Mara sat up straight. “Yessir?”

  “I have something to show you,” he said, extending his hand.

  She tiptoed up to him and peeked over his fingers. A red, glassy egg fit perfectly in his palm. “What’s that?”

  “I’m not sure. I found it when we were digging the foundation for a fountain near the tower. I think it’s a device that allows communication with Elohim.”

  “With Elohim? The one who flooded the upper world?”

  “Exactly.”

  She scowled at the egg. “Isn’t he the one you called a tyrant in your scrolls?”

  “Shhh!” Mardon covered the egg with his hand. “Like it or not, Elohim is in control, so I want to learn to communicate with him. That’s one of the reasons we’re building the tower.”

  “I read about the tower. It sounds wonderful!”

  Mardon looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “It is magnificent. The greatest accomplishment the world has ever seen. We hope the tower will get Elohim’s attention, because tradition says he lives in the sky.”

  “What will you say to him?”

  “Oh, not me,” he said, laying a hand on his chest. “My father will speak to him.”

  “King Nimrod?”

  “He wants to make a treaty with Elohim in order to prevent another disaster. For our part, we’ll make whatever sacrifice Elohim requires if he will only agree to speak to the rest of us through my father. The people are bound to listen and comply when their own king gives the orders.”

  She pointed at the egg. “What makes you think this thing can talk to Elohim, and why are you showing it to me?”

  “Listen carefully.” He uncovered the egg and held it close to his mouth. “Elohim? Are you listening? Please speak to me.”

  Red fog boiled inside the crystalline egg, swirling until it formed the shape of an angry-looking eye. The scarlet pupil pulsed as it spoke in gruff verse.

  This place accursed in demons’ hands,

  Where giants grow from pits of hell,

  Cannot contain the prophet’s eye

  Until the
maiden grasps its shell.

  The maid endowed with nimble mind,

  An oracle of fire born,

  Can speak to me of toil and pain,

  And I will raise the friend she mourns.

  Until she comes with mind unspoiled,

  Untaught in ways of God by men,

  My words of knowledge silent lie;

  The lips of God are sealed again.

  The eye faded away, and as the fog dissipated, Mardon held the egg out for Mara to see. “That’s what it says every time. Since it refers to the lips of God, I thought it might be a way to communicate with him. Imagine the effect on the people if we constructed a temple at the top of the tower and placed this as the mouthpiece of Elohim. The city would be the capital of the world, and our control over the people would be established forever.”

  Mara half closed one eye. “You still haven’t told me where I come in.”

  “Well, obviously it doesn’t want to talk to me, but when I realized how smart you are, I thought you might be the maid of nimble mind.”

  Mara touched the egg with her finger. A splotch of red on the inside seemed to follow her fingertip as she moved it along the surface. “What does ‘oracle of fire born’ mean?”

  “I have no idea.” He rolled the egg into her hands. “Speak to it and see what happens.”

  Mara brought it close to her lips, keeping her eyes on Mardon as she spoke. “Is anyone in there?”

  A sense of warmth radiated into her hand. She stared at the glass, and once again, red fog swirled within the transparent shell. Halos of crimson light pulsed from the center, ring after ring of radiant energy passing over her skin, warming her whole body.

  When the eye appeared, its pupil seemed awash in a softer, steady scarlet. It poured out new words that chanted in joyous rhythm, reminding Mara of a story Mardon once told of his father singing while bouncing him on his knee.

  The maid of fire has come at last

  To set the upper world aright.

  Ascend dear girl to lands above

  And cast the tower in holy light.

  As the eye faded away again in the fog, the egg whispered three final words. “Make haste, child!” Mara gazed at the red glass, her skin still tingling from the warm radiance.

  Mardon clapped his hands. “Did you hear that? Elohim wants to use this egg in the tower, just as I thought! He will speak from the tower and establish my father’s kingdom!”

  Mara held the egg in her fingertips. “I didn’t hear it say anything about his kingdom.”

  “What else could it mean? Elohim wants to establish his rule through my father and protect the people from further punishment.”

  Mara extended the egg toward him. “Then why did it want me to talk to it instead of you?”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” Mardon pulled down the bottom hem of his outer shirt, smoothing the material. “Come. We’ll go immediately. The sun will be too bright for you, so you’ll have to wear some kind of hood to shield your eyes.”

  She pulled her coif from her pocket and held it up. “I have my veil.”

  “Oh, yes. For the magma river. That should work fine.”

  She tied it on and began pushing her hair underneath. “When will we return?”

  “It depends on what Elohim says to my father. Could be soon; could be later.”

  “Will my spawn be okay?”

  “Who cares about your spawn?” Mardon twisted his sandal on the floor as if squishing a bug. “He’s expendable. He’s nothing compared to the glory of what we are about to accomplish!”

  “But I don’t want him to die!”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the control room exit. “Come now. Let’s not play the fool! Do you have a safe place for the egg?”

  Mara nodded. As she carefully placed it in her dress pocket, she pressed her lips together. The thought of her spawn being suspended in his new chamber without being fed tore her apart.

  Mardon grabbed a lantern and flung open the door. “We’ll have to find Morgan first and make up some kind of excuse for taking you to the top. I can’t open the lower portal without her.”

  “Portal?”

  “Too complicated to explain fully. There is no physical path to the surface, so we have to pass through a dimensional window. You see, there are multiple dimensions ” He sighed and pulled her faster. “Never mind. Since you’re friends with Elohim now, just pray that my father likes you. Like all good kings, with all the pressures on him, he can be. . temperamental.”

  “Like Morgan?”

  He jerked her wrist hard, lifting her to her tiptoes. “No! Not like Morgan! My father is gentle and kind to his friends, but he has to be harsh with fools and insubordinates, or his enemies will think him spineless.” He raised a tightening fist. “No king will survive for long if he doesn’t crush rebellion.”

  The pain from his vise-like grip burned across Mara’s skin. “You’re hurting me!”

  “Oh.” He released her and brushed his palm on his shirt. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

  Mara rubbed her wrist. She thought of a dozen snide comments to make about the gentility of Mardon’s father, but she didn’t want to risk missing out on visiting the upper lands. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  Mardon patted her on the back. “We’ll go and see Morgan first, then the endless sky.”

  Chapter 8

  A Prayer for Dragons

  Makaidos stood on his haunches and gazed at the horizon. Even from so many miles away, he could see Nimrod’s Tower looming over the land, like a fist with a rigid finger pointed heavenward. Black smoke rose all around its base, the fires of belching kilns mixing with the foul gases of bubbling tar pits.

  “Brick upon brick” he snorted a spray of steam “evil is growing in the city faster than I thought possible.”

  “A monument to the pride of men,” Thigocia grumbled as she lay at her mate’s side. “They are supposed to be scattering and filling the earth, but obviously even Noah has no influence over them any longer.”

  Makaidos sighed. “True. Most of the sons of Adam are not worthy of our service to them, but the faithful remnant still give me hope.”

  “We must keep praying as Noah taught us.” Thigocia laid her head on the ground. “Your father would want you to keep your eyes on the Maker.”

  “The Maker is the god of men,” Makaidos said, “and we are but dust of the earth, coarse pegs in a cosmic game. Why should the ever-living one care about those destined to return to dust?”

  “Nonsense! What kind of talk is that from the king of the dragons?”

  “Sensible talk. Down-to-earth talk. But it matters little. I am content to be his lowly peg.” He bowed his head, letting his snout dip so close to the ground, his hot breath scattered the sandy soil.

  Thigocia’s tail moved to his brow and stroked it gently. “Are you really content, my love?”

  Makaidos lifted his head and, unable to resist Thigocia’s probing stare, gazed into her deep red eyes. Her powerful mind seemed to penetrate his own, as though she could read his every thought. “Perhaps not. My joy has burned like dry brush.”

  Thigocia sighed and looped her tail around his. “When our new one is born, you will feel joy again.”

  “How can I feel joy?” Makaidos pulled his tail away. “Goliath had no reason to turn against Noah. His actions defy all logic. By refusing to serve even the faithful humans, he has turned against us as well.”

  “You and I know that, but Goliath acts on instinct, on what he feels inside. The people of Shinar have given him reason to despise mankind, have they not? The true followers of Noah are so few now, look where they are forced to live. Rats in caves. That’s what they have become.”

  Makaidos couldn’t answer. He just lifted his chin and gazed at the sky. A smaller dragon glided down, sunlight filtering through her honey-colored wings. She landed gracefully in front of Makaidos and Thigocia and bowed her head to each of them. “Father. Mother. Greetings.” />
  Thigocia touched the young dragon’s face with the tip of her wing. “Welcome home, Roxil.”

  Makaidos curled his neck around his daughter’s and winked at Thigocia. “Perhaps joy comes in many packages.”

  Roxil backed away. “Packages? What are you talking about?”

  “A private joke between your mother and me,” Makaidos said, smiling. “How was your patrol last night?”

  “All was quiet. No incidents.” Roxil tilted her head. “Why?”

  “I was curious. I felt a twinge of danger around midnight. Something in the direction of Noah’s dwellings. Do you remember seeing anything unusual at that time?”

  Roxil’s tail twitched and tapped the ground nervously. “Actually, I was talking to Goliath for a little while.”

  “While in flight?”

  Roxil half closed her eyes. “No.”

  Makaidos thrashed the ground with his tail. “You left your patrol without relief?”

  Roxil lowered her head and glared at him. “Just for a few minutes. The human village can survive for a half hour without us guarding it like winged mama bears!”

  “You know they count on us for protection. Noah’s people are in constant danger from Nimrod’s raiders.”

  “You think I care nothing for the humans?” Plumes of smoke rose from Roxil’s snout. “I will have you know that I uncovered trouble brewing in the city. Nimrod has marshaled a police force to capture more laborers for the tower construction. A dragon is his chief enforcer, one I have never seen.”

  Thigocia rose to her haunches. “Never seen? How can that be? You know every dragon in existence.”

  Roxil pawed the ground, sketching a crude dragon’s body in the sand. “He is Father’s size, redder, with longer spines at the end of his tail.”

  Makaidos locked gazes with Thigocia. “No one in our brood bears such features,” he said.

  Roxil scratched away her sketch. “I know what I saw.”

  Makaidos stretched out his wings. “I think I should visit Nimrod’s Tower to see who this dragon is and what is afoot. The stories of corruption are too heart-wrenching to believe.”