The Seventh Door

by Bryan Davis

  Roxil paddled with her wings. Mom wrapped her arms around Lauren and flew with her toward the edge. As they drifted over the lake, water streamed from Lauren’s hair and clothes, and wind knifed through to her skin. A barn stood only fifty yards away, a good place to build a fire and get warm.

  After shaking out wings and wringing out hair and clothes, the trio gathered in front of the barn, opened a set of double doors big enough for a dragon to pass through, and walked onto a hay-strewn concrete pad. A dozen or more cows stared at them from surrounding cattle stalls. One let out a lamenting moo that spread like a contagion until five or six cows sang the same song.

  “Maybe they’re hungry,” Lauren said. “They’re probably normally out grazing this time of day.”

  Mom touched an empty water trough in front of one of the cows. “I’m sure they’re thirsty, too.”

  “Judging from the lack of food and water,” Roxil said, “perhaps the owners have met with trouble that prevented a morning release into the pasture.”

  Lauren grabbed a stable’s locking bar. “I’m letting them out.” She and her mother hurried from stable to stable and opened the gates. As the cows tramped from the barn, their hooves made an echoing clatter.

  After the last cow exited, Roxil breathed over Lauren and her mother to dry them, but Roxil quickly grew tired and settled to the floor. “I do not understand why I am so weary. This is quite unusual even after carrying passengers. I apologize for my inability to make you warm and dry.”

  Mom stroked Roxil’s wing. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”

  “If you will collect some combustibles,” Roxil said, “I should be able to start a fire. That will be beneficial for all of us.”

  After they had swept hay and parts of a broken stable gate into a pile, Roxil ignited the fuel. Soon, the fire blazed, and they all settled close to it. Lauren took off her shirt and wrung it out, leaving on a wet T-shirt that clung to her torso. Warmth spread over her body and chased away the chill.

  Mom aimed her palms at the flames. “That pilot had to know that he missed his target. He might be back.”

  “Or perhaps,” Roxil said, “he was called to a more urgent matter. With the state of affairs in this world, surely there is much more to look after than a solitary dragon and two women.”

  Lauren picked up the cool end of a short piece of lathing and stoked the flames. It seemed odd that these two were discussing the whys and what-ifs of the situation when they had come within a split second of death.

  A minute or two passed with only the crackle of their makeshift campfire interrupting the silence. “So . . .” Lauren pursed her lips. How could she say this without raising too many questions? “Since both of you have died, maybe you can tell me what it’s like. I mean, what happens right afterward? Where did you go? What did you do?”

  Mom set a wing around her. “A close brush with death makes one consider the afterlife, doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose that’s part of it, but I came closer to death when I tried to jump into the volcano and the lava chased Albatross and me down the slope. I was super scared, but then I saw Joan rise into Heaven, so I knew for certain that there’s an afterlife, and the fears just went away.” Lauren shrugged. “I guess now I’m just curious. Was there a lot of pain? If so, did it last long? What was the first thing you saw? That kind of thing.”

  Roxil’s eyes blazed through the smoky air. “I suffered great pain, though the physical discomfort lasted only a few seconds. The emotional pain was far worse. Since my own mate betrayed me, that thought tortured me for a long time. Of course, I went to Dragons’ Rest, and I ruminated over the betrayal for centuries. The mental torture was ghastly.”

  Lauren nodded. “Betrayal is probably the sharpest dagger of all. I can’t imagine how much it must have hurt.”

  “My physical pain was horrific,” Mom said, “but it was like a flicker of flame that vanished in a comforting breeze. Unlike Roxil, I was given a view of Heaven right away, so every emotional wound instantly healed. The bliss was beyond description—better than a warm fire to ward off the chill, better than a cool drink of water after hours of working in the sun, better than a warm embrace after not seeing a dear friend for years.”

  She clasped her hands over her chest. “Heaven is an eternal fire that burns in your heart; it is living water that quenches your thirst forever; it is an embrace that never ends, because no one ever has to say good-bye.” She let out a sigh. “My visit to Heaven helped me endure fifteen years in prison, because I knew those years were nothing compared to an eternity with Jesus.”

  “Did you see him?” Lauren asked.

  Mom’s eyes sparkled with tears. “Yes, Lauren. I saw him. He took me into his arms and hugged me.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I can still feel his embrace—warm, strong, and loving. There is no greater feeling in this world.”

  “Then you want to go back,” Lauren said, nodding. “You’re ready to leave this world and be with him again.”

  “Of course. After what I’ve seen, who wouldn’t?” Mom tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

  Lauren shrugged again. “I don’t know. I guess because I kind of feel that way myself, even though I haven’t been to Heaven. Seeing Joan’s face when she ascended was enough to make me want to follow her. She looked so peaceful, so content, like she had finished a great journey and was finally receiving her reward.”

  Mom patted her on the back. “Well, we need you to stick around for a long time. This world needs you.”

  “True.” Lauren poked at the fire. “That much I agree with. I have to stop Tamiel.”

  “That’s everyone’s goal,” Mom said. “But no one can do it alone. He’s too crafty and powerful. We have to act as a team.”

  “He is powerful. I’ll grant you that.” Lauren scanned the barn. Maybe it would be best to change the subject. Her gaze drifted past a crib of corn. “Looks like we have food, and water’s just a few steps away. Maybe we should spend the night here.”

  Roxil extended her head out the door and looked up. “Evening is approaching. We should check with Lois to see if we can stay here and still maintain our schedule. Since I am more exhausted than expected, I would be glad of a chance to rest a while longer.”

  Lauren tapped on her jaw. Static buzzed in her molar. “You’d better use your transmitter. I think my habit of killing electronics put mine out of commission again. Maybe it’ll come back soon.”

  After a minute or so of conversation with Lois, Roxil focused on Lauren and her mother. “It seems that disaster has struck. That nuclear missile detonated in the air somewhere over Kentucky.”

  “So it was real, after all.” Mom’s shoulders drooped. “I wonder how many people died.”

  “Reports are conflicting, but since it exploded in the atmosphere, it didn’t kill as many people as it could have, though it knocked out much of the electrical grid in this country. Lois is in the warehouse’s stairway now, so she and Carly are safe, but she’s running on battery again. Carly’s going to search for a generator.”

  “That explosion is probably why the jet didn’t bother to finish us off,” Lauren said. “We weren’t worth the trouble.”

  “The good news is that Lois has spoken to Elam, though their contact came before the explosion and she has not been able to reconnect with him. She believes he was out of the danger zone, so he should be safe. Since she sent him the sixth address, she hopes he will go there eventually.”

  Mom heaved a sigh. “We’ll hope for the best.”

  “Indeed.” Roxil stretched out on the concrete pad. “According to Lois, we will have to get an early start and fly quickly if we are to arrive in the morning hours, but after a good rest, I should be able to manage it.”

  “That’s great, Roxil.” Lauren halfheartedly poked at the flames. “Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll find more stuff to burn and keep the fire going.”

  “Excellent. I can get a m
eal in the morning. Perhaps I will be able to find a deer, or if that fails, maybe a farmer who has abandoned his cows will not be too angry about losing one.” Roxil settled to her belly and lowered her head to the ground. Within a few seconds, she let out a rumbling snore.

  Lauren blinked at her mother. “That was fast.”

  “I’m concerned about her,” Mom said. “I could tell that her flight rhythm deteriorated just before we went down into the clouds. It was a sudden change.”

  “No use worrying.” Lauren walked to the corn crib, picked up six ears, and found a metal pan in one of the stables. She set the pan and corn on top of the fire and watched the kernels swell. After a few minutes, several popped open and leaked juice.

  “I love the smell of food cooking over a fire.” Mom inhaled deeply, then wrinkled her nose. “Do you smell garlic?”

  Lauren sniffed. Several aromas filtered in—wood smoke, corn, and a hint of garlic. “It’s kind of weak, but I do smell it.”

  “If we could find it, we could add it to the corn. Butter and salt would be nice, too.”

  Lauren grinned. “Plenty of milk standing on four legs, but who wants to collect it and churn the butter?”

  “I guess plain corn will have to do.” Mom pinched the end of a cob and gave it to Lauren. “It’s not too hot.”

  During their meal, they made plans to take turns watching the fire during the night while leaving the barn doors open just enough to draw the smoke away but closed enough to keep out the evening’s cooling air. When they finished, they strolled outside and drank water from the lake, then returned and sat close to the dwindling fire, their clothes now warm and dry.

  Mom slid hip to hip with Lauren. “Something’s bothering you. I mean something more than being cold and having a near-death experience. You seem distant . . . melancholy.”

  “Not really.” Lauren picked up the lathing again. “I’m just focused. Tamiel’s the cause of all this trouble, so I’ve been thinking about how to stop him.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “Nothing new. I just have this feeling that when I see him, I’ll know what to do.”

  “I’ve had that feeling a few times. It’s a certainty, like you’ve been given something that no one else has, that no one else would understand, and they might think you’re crazy if you tried to explain it.”

  Lauren nodded. “That’s it. That’s exactly it.”

  “It’s all part of being an Oracle of Fire.” Mom slid her hand into Lauren’s. “Do you mind if I tell you something Joan once told me? She branded the words in my mind, and I whispered them to Ashley a hundred times to encourage her during our years in prison.”

  “Sure. I’d love to hear anything Joan had to say.”

  Mom looked upward as if searching for a memory. “Speak the truth. Live the truth. Be the truth. Never let the faithless ones change any of those three principles. Remember that you are an Oracle of Fire, as is every faithful follower of our Lord. For all true disciples possess the pure silver, purged of all dross, and the fire of God’s love burns within, an everlasting flame that others, even those who give lip-service to the truth, will never comprehend until you are able to pass along that fire from heart to heart. As an Oracle, you will look through portals to their hearts, you will feel the heavy sadness of their lonely and dark estates, and you will possess crystal-clear vision that will allow you to see what will bring them deliverance from their sorrows. In trying to bring this deliverance, you will say and do things that will make them shake their heads in pity. ‘That poor girl,’ they will say. ‘Her passion has addled her brain.’ Your confidence, they will call arrogance. Your faith, they will call wishful thinking. Your purity, they will call self-righteousness. Your firm standing, they will call pride. Yet you will know, because of that fire within, that they are the ones dwelling in darkness, and you must touch your lighted wick to their darkened lamps.”

  Lauren let the words soak in. Surely if Mom or anyone else knew what she had in mind, they would think she was crazy, though she really did know what would bring everyone deliverance. Of course Mom wasn’t dwelling in darkness, but this light had been given to only one Oracle of Fire—Lauren Bannister— and she had to be the one to carry it into battle. It seemed that Joan, her former companion, had spoken from Heaven and given the new Oracle her marching orders.

  After a few silent seconds, Lauren breathed a quiet, “Amen.”

  Chapter 16

  THE FIFTH DOOR

  Matt parked the Mustang in front of a Japanese-style, one-story building. Its roofline curved into upward-pointing corners. Blinking red lights across the front spelled out Fantasy Pagoda. With no other cars in the lot, the sign provided the only indication that the store might be open. Downtown Lincoln, Nebraska, likely provided more regular customers for a business like this, but the recent chaos was probably keeping nearly everyone off the streets on this dreary afternoon.

  He checked the phone’s GPS screen. The caption for the address said, The Fifth Door—The Fodder. The address matched the number on the building, but how this place could relate to fodder remained a mystery.

  As Matt stared through the emporium’s dark window, his danger sense skyrocketed. “I don’t like the looks of this place.”

  “I sense evil,” Thomas said from the backseat. “If you must enter, find the key and get out as quickly as possible.”

  “I will. I just hope fantasy doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

  Mariel piped up. “The fifth circle held the temptation of gluttony for food, a special kind of food concocted by Morgan that rendered those who consumed it vulnerable to the flames of a chasm. It’s a good bet that this establishment offers to feed a different kind of hunger.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Matt said, “but not in so many words.”

  Thomas leaned forward and touched Matt’s shoulder. “Be careful, Son. Normal temptations of the flesh are difficult enough, but there is a twisted evil emanating from that place. It is demonic . . . filthy . . . unnatural. An abomination.”

  Matt gazed into the old man’s vacant eyes. Even without irises or pupils, they seemed to emote. “That’s not exactly a confidence booster.”

  When Matt reached for the car door, Darcy grabbed his wrist. “Let me go.”

  “You? Why?”

  “I know places like this. They’re a profitable hangout, if you know what I mean. They’re pretty much all the same.”

  “That’s not the point. There’s danger inside. I’m not sending a defenseless woman in there while I’m sitting out here cooling my heels.”

  Darcy’s face reddened. “Listen, Matt, I’ve been watching you risk your life again and again while I’ve been on the sidelines like a good little cheerleader.” Smiling vacantly, she shook an invisible pom-pom. “Yay, Matt! Go get ’em, tiger!” She shook her head. “Give me a break!”

  “Don’t play that game. You risked your life at the shark tank, and you voluntarily sat in that chair knowing you could die. You’ve been more of a hero than I have.”

  Darcy pushed her hair back and looked Matt in the eye. “There’s more to it than playing ‘who’s the hero?’ If I’m right about this pagoda place, I’ll be in less danger than you would be. Trust me on this.”

  They stared at each other, both with firm jaws. Finally, Thomas broke the silent stalemate. “Let her go, Matt. If Tamiel set this up to tempt you specifically, then she probably is less vulnerable. Besides, if she needs you, you’ll be just seconds away.”

  “All right. All right.” Matt nodded toward the pagoda. “Prop the door open if you can, and if you get into trouble, scream.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. I do a great banshee impersonation.”

  “I’m not touching that line.” Matt opened both front windows and turned off the engine. “Now I’ll be sure to hear you.”

  “Here goes.” Darcy got out on her side and walked to the emporium’s front entrance, a steel-and-glass s
ingle door. A sign hung over the glass with handwritten bold letters—Dancers Wanted. Male or Female.

  Wearing camo pants and a thick, thigh-length coat, Darcy didn’t look anything like the kind of woman they were likely looking for.

  When she pulled the door open, propped it with a stone, and disappeared inside, Matt exhaled. “How long should we give her? My danger sensation is through the roof.”

  “Thomas will know,” Mariel said. “We should be quiet and let him concentrate.”

  A brilliant light flashed somewhere in the distance, but the building blocked their view of the source. The blinking sign sizzled, then went dark.

  Matt whispered, “That can’t be good.”

  “Something terribly evil occurred,” Thomas said, “but not yet where Darcy is. We should be patient.”

  A foul odor drifted through the car, something drenched in garlic and carrying an abrasive bite.

  Matt’s eyes watered. “Where’s that smell coming from?”

  “It’s familiar.” Mariel wrinkled her nose. “But I can’t place it.”

  Thomas tapped Matt’s shoulder. “Evil is ready to strike. You’d better check on Darcy.”

  “Mariel, can you drive?” Matt asked as he opened his door.

  “Well enough to get away.”

  “I’ll leave the keys just in case.” He got out and strode toward the door. As he drew near, he slowed and tried to peek into the dark opening, but nothing took shape inside.

  Someone grunted. Glass shattered. Darcy appeared in the doorway and grabbed the frame. A woman in a skimpy bathing suit clutched her arm and tried to drag her back inside.

  “Let me go!” Darcy shouted as she tried to shake loose and reach for her knife at the same time.

  “Stay with me, sweetness,” the woman said with a sultry purr. “I want to show you something.”

  Matt leaped to help, but a bare-chested man wearing tight shorts pushed past Darcy and blocked him with a forearm. “Cool it, kid. Let’s watch the catfight.”