by Ted Dekker
I snatched the knife from my mouth, drew back, and sent it with all of my strength. But before the hilt left my hand, I flinched. The blade flew true, but my true was now a foot to Jacob’s right.
It didn’t matter. He snatched the blade from the air with a gloved hand as if it were a feather, and I knew then why Jacob had been chosen to hunt me down. This was no ordinary warrior.
Our eyes met as I raced by and broke through the gap Samuel had made. There was curiosity in those eyes, not malice or anger. Even if I could have killed him, I was glad I hadn’t tried.
“That was him?” Samuel yelled over his shoulder.
“I missed.”
He cursed, but Samuel was no fool. We now had two fast horses and an escape route the Horde knew nothing about.
The Shataiki were screeching above us, but I was bent low over Razor’s neck and refused to look up. Samuel led us at a full gallop past the pool and the trees nestled around it. I followed him wordlessly as he angled for one of two narrow passages at the end of the canyon.
We entered before the Horde rounded the trees, but they would still be able to follow our tracks while there was light. This fact was worrying me when Samuel abruptly turned and took his mount up a steep, rocky incline. Razor followed, struggling for footing. I saw why Samuel had been so reluctant to try with two on the horse’s back.
And yet the Horde would know we’d cut up the incline.
We quickly reached the rocky canyon lip. “This way.” Samuel took us a hundred yards on flat stone, then guided his mount down a narrow chasm that led back to the canyon floor. To my reckoning, we were headed back in the same direction we had come. Madness.
But I’d learned not to second-guess Samuel.
He stopped at the end of the passageway, looked around its edge, then led us back into the same oasis we’d come from. This time we headed for the second of the two passages that led out the back.
The Horde would eventually figure out what we’d done, but by then we’d be long gone on two fast horses.
I pulled up next to him and saw his wide grin. “Never doubt Samuel of Hunter,” he said. “Can you go without sleep?”
“If I have to.” The night was suddenly and eerily quiet. I glanced at the sky. The Shataiki were gone. Why?
We passed the trees surrounding the oasis at a steady trot. “Then we’ll join Thomas and my tribe by sunrise.”
The Horde was behind us, headed in the wrong direction. The Shataiki had left us alone. But something else in the gathering night had my attention. The air seemed to be charged. I could feel it at the nape of my neck.
Samuel saw him first, just as we rounded the pool, and he reined his mount to a halt. A lone rider sat on a pale stallion, calmly watching us. He was dressed in a light robe and wore sandals rather than boots. His hair was white and his beard was long. Two braids held his hair off his face and swept back over his ears.
Next to him stood a second riderless mount—a black mare.
“Albino,” Samuel said, staring.
“Is he alone?”
“I don’t know.” He nudged his horse forward and I followed.
The rider showed no concern. Where had he come from?
Samuel pulled up five paces from him and studied his horse, his robe, his face. “Are you alone?” he asked.
“There are two others here,” the man said in a strong, gentle voice.
Samuel scanned the perimeter.
“They sit on horses before me,” the man said. He was speaking of us.
“I see,” Samuel said. “And who are you?”
“Do you ask for my identity or what they call me?”
“Let’s start with what they call you.”
“They call me Talya. A Mystic from beyond the Great Divide.” His eyes shifted to me. “And I’ve come to take the one you call the lamb back.”
“The lamb?”
“Rachelle. The meaning of the word is ‘lamb.’”
Samuel eyed him carefully. “Take her back where?”
The man called Talya hesitated. “Home,” he said.
“Don’t be absurd,” Samuel snapped. “I take her to Thomas. Any Albino in this desert is under his jurisdiction. Rachelle now belongs to us.”
“Her name is not Rachelle, and she belongs to no one on this plane. She was raised by Mystics, who were pushed out by other Elyonites. Three months ago she was taken by the Horde and delivered to Ba’al’s dungeons.”
This Talya was the helper Justin had promised me? I wanted to know more, much more.
“Mystic, you say.” Samuel wasn’t eager to buy into Talya’s claims. “I know what Horde are, who Rachelle is. Who are you to call yourself a Mystic that I should even consider trusting you?”
“A Mystic is only one who believes that Elyon is infinite, not subject to polarity.”
“Polarity? What is this nonsense? Of course Elyon is infinite. All Albinos know this. Does it make us all Mystics then?”
“How little you know, Samuel of Hunter,” Talya said gently. “I will take the 49th, as is my charge.”
Samuel sat on his horse, face blank. But before he could speak, a beast came out of the boulders behind him. A lion. As surprised as I was to see a full-grown lion slinking up to us, I felt no fear.
Samuel uttered a grunt and jerked back.
“This is my lion,” the old man said. “He is called Judah. You have nothing to fear from him.”
The lion settled down on his belly and yawned wide. Talya’s mount stepped forward as if guided by the man’s thought.
“You will not follow us, you will not harm Jacob, you will not gather an army, you will not cross the Divide, you will do absolutely nothing but stay alive as long as you can. Do you understand?”
“I . . .” Samuel glanced at me. “No, that can’t be right. I only . . .”
“I know you’re taken with her. I don’t blame you. But a great crisis approaches like a dark storm. If the 49th succeeds, and if both of you survive what is to come, you can try to woo her all you like, though I assure you she has a mind of her own. Until then, we have far more pressing matters to consider.”
It was from Talya the Shataiki had fled, I thought. He was the one who would help me on the quest. My journey would cost me everything, Justin had said. I wondered briefly what that could mean. A chill washed down my neck.
“I should at least come with you,” Samuel said. “You do know that I saved her from certain death.”
“Go home, Samuel.” Talya’s voice rumbled with an authority that seemed to reach into my chest and squeeze my heart. The air felt electric again. What power Talya possessed, I didn’t know, but I did know I had to follow him.
“Doesn’t she get a say in this?” Samuel demanded, face dark. “Or is she just a pawn?”
Talya studied me, then slowly dipped his head. “As your servant I would be remiss if I didn’t inform you that should you go with Samuel now, your body will die young. Jacob is no fool. If you come with me, your passing from this plane may be delayed. You might complete the tasks of your role. The choice is yours.”
I liked the way he talked—the tone of his voice, his odd choice of words. There was a truth in them that seemed to quicken an ancient knowing in my bones.
“I’ll go with you.”
“A wise choice.” Talya dipped his head again. “Jacob has found your tracks and is doubling back. We have to leave now.” As if it could understand, the lion stood, yawned once more, then looked east, ears perked.
“And you, my dear, must dream. Look for the words that point you to the First Seal.”
“The First Seal? You know about my dreams of the other world?”
“We won’t be stopping tonight; you’ll have to sleep on your horse,” he said, ignoring my question.
I hadn’t slept for nearly a day, but I doubted I could sleep anytime soon, not now. Certainly not on a horse.
Samuel was watching me like a lost boy hidden behind a strong jaw and flowing mane. He might t
hink of himself as a fierce warrior, but I saw a gentle and lonely man in desperate search of himself. Not unlike me.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how fond I’d become of him in such a short time. The sentiment surprised me.
I guided my horse over to his and reached for his hand.
“I have to go with him, you must know that. Whatever’s happening is beyond both of us. But I’ll never forget you, Samuel of Hunter. We will meet again.”
“I will find you,” he whispered.
“They are coming,” Talya said.
He’d maneuvered his mount beside my own and I turned, thinking I would mount Talya’s second horse and leave Razor for Samuel. But I never made it that far.
Talya was there and his hand was there, at my chin, then over my eyes.
“Dream,” he whispered. The word echoed through me and carried me away. I felt myself slumping toward him as my consciousness faded.
And then I was dreaming.
10
I DREAMED a dream that wasn’t a dream, and in that reality I guessed that I was sleeping on a horse, somehow secured so I wouldn’t fall, riding due east behind Talya, an older man who had the stamina of the lion that trotted ahead of us.
And then I was waking up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. The same birds I always heard when I woke up, usually between seven and eight in the morning, just as the town began to come alive.
I was back in Eden.
I opened my eyes and slowly looked at my room: the drawn curtains glowing blue in direct sunlight, the Apple computer on my desk, the white ceiling and its orange-peel texture—one of the few surfaces in the house I hadn’t touched. But now I didn’t need to touch to see. Or click.
I could see because a man named Vlad Smith had come into town yesterday and sent me into a coma, where Justin had healed me.
I was living in two realities that were somehow connected and directly affected each other. And by all accounts I would throw both worlds into crisis.
I lifted my hand and looked at my right forefinger. The tiny pinprick Vlad Smith had administered was still there. Slowly, like a descending fog, dread settled over me.
I sat up in bed and stared around the room. Something was going to cost me everything. Yesterday had been the best day of my life. Today . . . I was afraid today would be different.
I threw the covers off, slid out of bed, and stood up, dressed in yellow pajamas printed with little white bunnies. It all felt . . . off. Wrong. Very wrong.
“Dad?”
His voice came back from the front of the house. “In here, honey. Just fixing us some eggs.”
I had to tell him.
It only took me a minute to strip out of the ridiculous pajamas and throw on a pair of jeans. Pulling open my closet, I was greeted with the sight of a dozen shirts. All black. Might have to change that, but in that moment they could have been a dozen different colors and I would have grabbed the closest without caring.
Bacon and eggs were sizzling by the time I’d brushed my teeth and hurried out into the kitchen.
“Morning, sweetheart.” My dad grinned. He kissed my hair and stepped back. Spread his hands. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“You . . . I mean . . . You’re not clicking.”
My sight. I was no longer as taken with my sight as he was, but then I’d just spent a full day seeing in my dreams. Then again, if Justin was right, the whole world was blind. Including me.
“Still good,” I said. “Don’t worry, my sight’s not going to revert.”
“No, of course it won’t.” He stepped over to the frying pan and scooped the eggs and bacon onto two green plates. The scent and sight reminded me of my hunger—I’d eaten nothing but strips of jerky and stale bread . . .
No. That was in another world.
“But there is something else I need to talk to you about,” I said.
“Sure. Have a seat.” He set the plates on the breakfast bar and crossed to the coffeepot. “Big day today. Something’s going down on the West Coast. No one’s saying what it is, but all the major networks are offline, and the internet is down.”
I glanced at the muted television, grayed out with static. Words scrolled across the screen, but of course I hadn’t learned to read with my eyes yet. Something about a loss of signal, I guessed.
“Cell phones still work, but I tried to connect with my sister in Seattle and couldn’t get through. Probably on her end. Coffee?”
“Sure.” I walked over to the breakfast bar and scooted my stool out. “None of that upsets you?”
He brought two cups of coffee to the bar, mine with a little puppy on a big white mug. “How could I be upset? My daughter can see. We live in a protected environment with all the power and food we need. I have all I need right here.” He stroked my hair.
“Until they start rappelling over the cliffs with automatic weapons,” I said.
“Well . . . it’s not going to come to that. And if it does, we’re prepared, aren’t we?”
He meant the weapons the council had stockpiled. But his willingness to even consider using them was news to me. I let it go.
“I suppose we are.”
“Sit.”
I sat.
“Eat.”
I picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it.
“So, what’s on your mind?” he asked, lifting his coffee. “More bad dreams?”
“Not exactly. Not bad, I mean. Depending on how you look at it. But it might sound a bit . . . crazy.”
“Tell me. Nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”
So I told him everything. Beginning with my waking in the desert and meeting Justin before the Horde came. Samuel’s rescue of me, our encounter with Jacob at the oasis, and being taken by Talya.
Everything except the bit about me bringing a great crisis. And the five seals.
He asked me polite questions as I rushed through tales of white bats called Roush and black ones with red eyes called Shataiki, and Horde and Albinos, and I knew he was thinking it was all in my mind, a fear of losing my sight. But I just wanted to get it all out.
“And that’s it?” he asked when I was done.
“That’s it.”
He set down his empty cup and faced me. “Speaking as a psychologist? I think it’s a good sign.”
“A sign?”
“Think about it! These are the first lucid dreams you’ve had, right? The first time you’ve been aware that you’re dreaming while dreaming. And you have some control in those dreams.”
“Yes, but—”
“Rather than being a victim of nightmares in which you have no clue you’re in a dream, you’re now lucid in those dreams. This is fantastic! Whatever happened in your mind to correct your blindness also might have shifted your dreaming patterns. Naturally you’re still contending with the fear of blindness, but these dreams could very well signal the end of your nightmares.”
“I think you might be missing the point. What about Thomas Hunter?”
“What about him? The whole world knows about his role in stopping the Raison Strain ten years ago. You know it too, and now it’s entered your dreams. Perfectly understandable.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s more than that. We don’t even know how I regained my sight! Something else is happening. Tell me again what Vlad Smith said in my room at the hospital.”
My father shrugged, but his eyes were fixed on the wall. “Sight to the blind, religious nonsense.”
But not nonsense to me.
“And?”
“I suspect he’s somehow connected to Simon, who isn’t telling us everything.” Eyes on me. “But it’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Okay . . . What else? He knew all about me, so what else did he say? About me?”
“That he needed to earn our trust by doing what he did with you.”
“And?”
“That’s it. That you were the key.”
“He said that? Like the k
ey to a door?” An idea struck me. “Or a gateway?”
“I took it as the key to getting the town behind him in correcting whatever he thinks is wrong. As far as what part he played in your spontaneous remission, it’s impossible to say without knowing more. The mind is a powerful thing. And completely reprogrammable.”
“It is indeed.” The voice came from behind us, and we both twisted in our seats.
A tall man dressed in black slacks and a white jacket stood in our doorway. Hair slicked back, thumbs hooked in his pockets. My father hadn’t breathed a word of what Vlad Smith looked like, but I knew I was looking at him. And the moment I saw him, a chill rode up my spine.
“Forgive me, but the door was open,” he said. Without looking, he shoved the door closed with his heel. It slammed shut.
“Smith,” he said, eyeing me. “Vlad Smith. So happy to finally be seen by you, Rachelle. Glad to have been of help.”
My father was on his feet. Smith’s eyes cut to my soul, and I suppressed the urge to run. I can’t say I recognized him as Shadow Man, because things are different in nightmares than in real life, but he gave me the same feeling.
Then again, this was the man who’d somehow facilitated my waking in another world. Why? Samuel suggested that I, as the 49th, had opened a gateway to that world. If so, did Vlad Smith intend to use me? To what end?
Vlad interlaced his fingers, cracked his knuckles, and stepped to the center of the kitchen. “You have to forgive me for being so . . . direct with you yesterday, David. But as I’m sure you can now appreciate, Rachelle needed me. Fair enough?”
My father looked uncertain.
“I know this has all been a bit of a shock to both of you, so I’ve come to set the record straight before I illuminate the rest of the town. You want to know how I did it, right?”
My father found his voice. “That would be helpful, yes.”
“Maybe we could begin with a thank you,” Vlad said, still fixated on me.
My father hesitated. “Thank you.”
“You are so welcome, my dear.” But I wasn’t the one who’d thanked him.
He pressed his hands together and bowed his head, as if praying to me. “I must say, your mind’s an enviable work of wonder. To think, all that tissue up there, folded in on itself, packed with neurons and energy . . . It can do so much with the right programming. Amazing. I like to call the human organism a tissue-top.” He pointed at his head. “It’s just tissue in there. Algorithms. In fact, all organism is algorithm. You have to go beyond tissue to find more.”
