by Bryan Davis
Dikaios nudged Elam’s arm. “She has finally spoken the truth. Take back your cloak, which she has defiled with her filthy body, and cast her into the Lake of Fire. One stone well aimed will take care of this witch once and for all!”
As Naamah’s body continued to shake, a tremulous melody poured from her lips—lamenting, forlorn, and plaintive.
O who will wash the stains I bear
The harlot’s mark of sin I wear?
Exposed and shorn of all I prized,
And now I beg for mercy’s eyes.
O Jesus, look upon my strife
And spare this foolish harlot’s life.
I bow, surrender, pour my tears;
Forgive my sins and draw me near.
Finishing with a sigh, Naamah covered her head with her hands.
Dikaios snorted scornfully. “Her words have proven vain, Elam! She cannot be trusted. Take your vengeance now!”
Elam gazed at the shivering woman on the ground, still wearing his cloak, the very covering he offered in love and acceptance, even after all she had done to him. He glanced at the stone in his clenched hand. Would Raphah have forgiven her? She ended up causing his death when she accused him in front of Morgan. And now, if not for a startling dream, would she have taken his life, the one who offered her help when no one else would? Could she ever be trusted?
He turned to Dikaios, but the horse said no more. His big eyes drilled an icy stare.
Finally, as Naamah’s quaking grew, Elam dropped the stone and laid a hand on her back. “You asked me to forgive you, Naamah. Who am I to refuse?”
She looked up at him. Wet strands of hair stuck to her dirty face. As her eyes widened once again, she could barely whisper, “Do you mean, you …”
He lowered his hand to her. “I forgive you. That’s really the only life I have to offer … yours.”
Reaching out her trembling fingers, she took his hand and rose to her feet. When he released her, she just stared at her palm, as if he had left something there. Her mouth opened to speak again, but no words came out.
Elam kicked the stone far away. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anything at all.” He nodded at Dikaios. “If you will lead the way, good horse, I will follow. What Naamah does is up to her.”
Without a word, Dikaios turned and loped in the direction they had been traveling before.
Elam marched behind him, glancing back at Naamah every few seconds. With her hand still in front of her face, she continued staring, and as the distance grew between them, her petite form seemed to shrink even further.
Turning to the front, Elam strode up a gently sloping rise, and when he reached the top, he halted. Dikaios stopped and turned around. Saying nothing, he lowered his head and sniffed the grass.
Elam raised a fist and stared at his hardened knuckles. Naamah really was a deceiver, the worst kind of harlot, but she chose not to follow. Why would that be? If her new repentance was another deception, wouldn’t she just tag along again and continue her pretense, waiting for another chance to take his life’s blood?
Not wanting to turn to look, Elam pictured Naamah behind him, standing pitifully in the distance, watching her hand, waiting. But waiting for what? Elam opened his own hand and stared at his palm. Blistered and bloodied from hanging on to the bridge, dirty and grass-smeared from lying in the fields, his hand was no more majestic than any other. It was human—strong, real, the ultimate symbol of reaching out from one wanderer to another. Finally, it all made sense.
Slowly turning, Elam stretched out his arm and extended his open hand toward Naamah. She leaped forward and sprinted toward him, her bare legs and feet kicking up the hem of his cloak. When she reached the hill, she dashed up the slope and dropped to her knees. She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, crying, “You won’t regret this, Elam. I promise, you won’t regret your mercy.”
He raised her to her feet and looked into her teary eyes, speaking softly. “To be wanted and not lusted for. To be loved and not pitied. To be asked and not commanded.” After passing a hand over her bedraggled hair, he slipped it into hers, touching their palms together. “Is that right?”
As her cheeks flushed, a shy smile emerged. In contrast to her red face, her white teeth dazzled, but now her fangs were gone. “And to be believed, even after all my lies.”
Chapter 14
Chasing the Light
Candle held a torch high over his head, searching the skies. Still no sign of Grackle or Mother. It was getting so late. Pegasus had already risen, and the spider frogs had begun their nightly chants. Soon, the village guard would chase him away from the rabbit fields and back inside with a warning about owls and shadow people, but he had to stay out and watch. He couldn’t bear to look at that empty shelf where his father’s companion once sat in a bed of velvet.
Pulling up the hood on his ankle-length cloak, he strained his eyes, trying to find any sign of Grackle’s purple glint, but the moon-washed canopy returned just a few white glimmers. With Pegasus ruling the nightscape, only the three brightest stars twinkled in the cold breezeShachar and the twin stars, Makaidos and Thigocia.
Something tugged at his sleeve. He jumped away and swung the torch, barely missing Listener’s face. The little girl flinched but stayed put.
“Listener!” he scolded. “You scared me! I could’ve”
His companion whispered into his mind. Your sister has no voice to signal her approach. She did not know you would be so ready to lash out at her touch.
Candle sagged his shoulders and sighed. “I’m sorry. Next time, please clap your hands or whistle when you come up behind me like that.” Laying a hand on her shoulder, he nodded toward the torch-lit village. “Go on back. I’ll be home soon.”
She shook her head and lifted something in her hand, a bag with a strap.
“Where did you find this?” He took the bag and rubbed his hand along the smooth exterior. “It looks like a fruit harvest bag, but it’s softer, like clothing.”
Listener made signs with her fingers and pointed at the forest.
“In the trees? You were climbing a tree?”
She nodded.
He dangled the bag from its strap. “Was it hanging from a branch like this?”
She nodded again.
After pushing the end of the torch into the ground, Candle opened the bag and rummaged inside. “There’s something in here.” He pulled out a metallic cylinder about the length of his forearm. As he examined the tube, it expanded in his hands and slipped from his grasp.
Listener picked it up and stared through one end. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened.
“What do you see?” Candle stooped beside her and looked up the tube’s line of sight. “Not many stars are out.”
She handed it back to him and made more signs with her fingers.
“The stranger? Do you mean Timothy?”
She nodded excitedly.
Candle pointed the tube at the sky and looked through it. “I don’t see anything but Makaidos and Thigocia.” He guided it across the sky until it swept over the moon. “Amazing! Pegasus looks as big as a house!” Lowering the tube, he rose to his full height. “This is like the Prophet’s magnifying glass, only bigger and stronger, but I didn’t see Timothy.”
Listener pointed at herself and nodded. Picking up the torch, Candle cast its glow across his sister’s scaly face. With her gleaming eyes and furrowed brow, she never looked more sincere.
Candle laid a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not playing a game, are you?”
She shook her head and pointed at the sky, her arm trembling.
Raising the tube again, Candle searched the region she indicated but found only three stars he wasn’t able to see with his naked eye, two white and one red. He sighed and took Listener’s hand. “Let’s get you to bed. Maybe Mother will figure out what’s going on when she returns.”
Ashley’s legs buckled. She collapsed an
d tumbled down the stairs. When her body smashed into the curved wall, she slid three more steps before finally stopping.
Pain stabbed her limbs. Both elbows and knees ached. Hot spikes drilled into her back, and white spots swirled in her vision, then slowly melted away.
She blinked at the darkness. Had she gone blind, or had the fall extinguished the lantern? Groping for something to hang on to, she braced her hand on the edge of a stair and pushed herself to a sitting position. Every inch of movement sent tingles up and down her spine.
Now panting for breath, she groped for her bag. There it was, right next to her. She grabbed it and hugged it close. Any other time, she would have stayed put and waited for help, not wanting to risk further injury, but what could she do? She couldn’t stay put. Who could tell how close her stalker was now?
Again, she blinked at the total blackness surrounding her, listening. So far, nothing. She tapped her jaw and whispered breathlessly, “Larry! Larry, can you hear me?”
No response.
She ventured a slightly louder call. “Larry? Are you there?”
No Larry. Just a hint of static.
She pulled her photometer from the bag and turned it on. The red LED digits flashed a bright row of zeroes. Whew! At least she hadn’t gone blind, and the reading proved what her surroundings already indicated. It was totally dark.
She stuffed the photometer into her jacket pocket, and, sliding the bag’s strap over her shoulder, she gripped the crags in the wall and pulled herself to her feet. Trying to slow her breaths, she took a single step up. A trickling sensation crawled down her cheek and ran to her chin. Was it sweat or blood? She wiped it away with her finger and tried to look at it, but the veil of darkness still blinded her eyes.
She took another step, then another. Each one stretched her cramped legs, shooting more pain into her back, but the progress warmed her muscles and her confidence. Maybe, just maybe, she could make it.
Clump!
Ashley spun her head toward the sound. Oh, no! It’s coming again!
Trying not to grunt, she pushed through the pain and hurried up the stairs, frantically limping through one step after another. What was the count? Twelve hundred? But she lost some falling down. Eleven ninety?
Clump!
Ten more steps. More pain. Twenty steps. Nausea swilled in her stomach. Thirty steps. Throbs hammered her head. Her skull had to be cracking! Fifty steps!
A tinkling sound rose from the stairs. Something had shattered at her feet. She halted and bent over, feeling for the object she had kicked. She found it. Something metal.
Picking it up, she moved on, letting her fingers crawl over the surface, smooth and quite warm. Her thumb brushed along something soft and hot, very hot. A wick! It was a lantern! A recently used lantern! One of the giants must have left it behind, dropping it and shattering its glass shield as they marched up the stairs.
But what good would it do her? With no lighter or matches, it would just slow her down. She stopped and sniffed the oil. Maybe she could slow down her pursuer. It wasn’t much of a chance, but at least it was something.
She poured the oil over the steps and, after setting the lantern in the middle of the pool, hobbled up the stairway. Maybe the stalker would slip and fall. In this darkness, anything could happen.
Feeling stronger, she increased her pace and quickly covered another forty steps, but as she slowed again, a strange odor filled her nostrils.
Suddenly, her foot slipped, and she fell forward, smacking her hands on the stairs but catching herself before her knees struck the stone. As she rose again, her hand brushed against something. She snatched it up and felt its familiar metal surface. The lantern! I slipped on the oil! The oil that I poured out!But how could that be? I climbed dozens of steps! It’s impossible!Ashley’s head pounded again. She sat down, panting heavily. Clamping her oily hands over her ears, she tried to concentrate. What could she do? The laws of physics and logic didn’t work in this place. What good was it to have super smarts in a world where two plus two equals … She grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled … Five, a three-eyed Bigfoot, a flying saucer, anything but four!
Clump!
She drooped her shoulders. Not again! She struggled to her feet but could only lean against the wall. What good would running away do? If she was going in an insane circle, she would just wear herself out and still not get away.
Sliding down, she huddled against the wall, pressing as close to the stone as she could. Maybe her pursuer would just pass her by … not even notice her. After all, only bats could see in total darkness, right? And this was no bat.
Sighing, she closed her eyes and listened, but the telltale clumps had silenced, at least for the moment. As she concentrated, a recent image played back in her mind, her descent in this very same stairwell with Walter as they read the etchings on the wall. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here. The words drifted through her mind and seemed to echo once again in the darkness, somehow audible, though she couldn’t be sure. Abandon hope, all ye who …
The air grew cold. Hugging her knees, Ashley shivered, trying not to make a sound.
“Are you frightened, dear child?”
Ashley held her breath. The voice! It was back!
“You are shaking. What troubles you?”
She whispered as softly as she could. “Something’s chasing me, and I keep going in circles.”
Laughter blended with the voice. “A spiral staircase is bound to lead you in circles.”
“Shhhh! It will hear you!”
“What will hear me?”
“The thing that’s chasing me!”
He chuckled, quietly this time. “Let me show you something.”
A light flickered, and a glow illumined the stairway. An old man wearing blue jeans and a white sweatshirt held a lantern. A cracked shield encased the wick. “It took some doing to mend it, but it still works.”
She reached out and touched the base. “My lantern?”
“The very same.” The man set the lantern on the stair and sat down. When he looked at Ashley, he winced. “You’re hurt.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed a spot just above her cheek. “Don’t worry. It’s clean.”
Too weak to protest, Ashley let him nurse her wound. As she gazed into his gray eyes, another old image flashed across her mind. “You look familiar,” she said dreamily.
“I’m glad you noticed.” He gave her the handkerchief and set his palms on his knees. “We had a nice time discussing quantum physics on a flight to London. I was most interested in your invention … Apollo, I think you called it.”
“The smelly old man on the plane!” Ashley slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Of course you meant it, but I take no offense.”
“But why are you here now? How did you get in this staircase?”
“First things first.” The man extended his hand, palm up. “May I see the dime and two pennies?”
Ashley narrowed her eyes. “Dime and two pennies?”
“The coins your mother asked you to keep, the ones from the box she hid under the hearth.”
She dug into her jeans pocket and withdrew the coins. “How did you know about these?”
“As you might have guessed by now, I am far more than the smelly old man I appeared to be. I have been watching you for quite some time, and I said I would be with you throughout this part of your journey.”
She laid the coins in his palm. “Why are they so important?”
The man picked up the dime and eyed it closely. “I gave your father these coins when you were born. They were freshly minted then, so they bear the year of your birth.” He held one of the pennies in his fingertips so she could see the date. “Your mother already told you that the two pennies symbolize the two faithful witnesses, so rare in their faith, they are similar to the widow’s mites, the old woman’s precious gift to the temple treasury. In li
ke fashion, the pennies represent your two greatest gifts, so the next time you exercise one of your gifts, be sure to hold one of these pennies in your hand to signify your willingness to use your gift sacrificially. Your faith in the Gift Giver will lead to your deliverance, and all things will be made whole.”
“You were the street vendor? A street vendor with a doctorate in physics?”
He dropped the coins into her jacket pocket and extended his hand. “Doctor Dan Allen. I have other names, but that one will do for now.”
Ashley took his hand. “I guess you already know my name. I”
Clump!
She jerked away and stiffened. “It’s coming!”
“Yes, I know. He is the Naphil whose leg fell prey to Walter’s sword. Though he walks now with the help of a staff he fashioned, he is quite dangerous.”
“But he was dead!”
“Is dead, you mean.”
Clump!
“What does he want?”
“To escape, but since he is quite stupid, he hasn’t figured out that he’s walking in an infinite loop. He will never be allowed to leave, because, as I told you, he is dead, and this is his home until the final judgment. But he is resting again, so we have some time to talk.”
Ashley wagged her head back and forth. “This doesn’t make sense. Nothing here makes sense. I need to get out of here.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
“I’ll keep climbing.” She pushed her hand against the step and rose to a crouch. “This can’t be an infinite loop. The stairs have to lead somewhere.”
“They do lead somewhere.” Dr. Allen pointed at the stairs. “Back to this spot.”
She flopped back down and leaned against the wall, her head throbbing. “But that’s nonsense!”
“The concept of infinity seems to elude you, dear child. Perhaps believing in something truly infinite makes your brain choke.” He added a gentle laugh.
