by James Somers
He stopped mid-step, perhaps expecting me to attack him. Finally, he nodded. “You tried to kill Ezekiah,” he offered.
I decided to avoid that subject for the time being. I could already see that I was not welcome here. And I had no reason to think that I should be. Tobias was right. I had only come to Thorn Mountain to assassinate their prophet.
“Did it hurt?” Tobias asked.
“Did what hurt?”
“Being shot…dying,” he said.
I stammered for a moment, trying to remember the event. I didn’t remember much pain. “I’m not sure I was actually dead,” I replied.
Rada slammed the cleaver down again, mumbling something under her breath. Tobias stared at me, grinning. “Oh, you were dead, all right,” he said. “I’m a good shot. Our physician said you took it right through the heart. You were dead in seconds.”
I gave the boy a horrified look. “You sound like you’re proud of it,” I said.
He tapped his finger on the table. “Like I said, you were going to kill Ezekiah. I would do it again, if I had to.”
I let his threat stand. He was only a boy, after all, and trying to protect someone he obviously looked up to. Trying to divert the conversation, I asked, “What do you know of wraith dancers, Tobias?”
“Killers and idolaters,” Rada interrupted. “You worship devils and do their bidding.”
Tobias and I both looked at her. I was shocked by what she had said. The boy seemed to take it in stride. I supposed he must believe the same thing. I sat in my chair stunned. What poison these words were.
“Who told you such a lie?” I asked finally.
“You tell me what part of what I said was a lie, and I will reveal the source,” she said. “Tell me, how many people you have butchered at the command of your Serpent Kings? You worship those beasts who care nothing for you or any man. You worship them instead of Elithias who made you in his own image, girl.”
I wanted to reply. I wanted to justify my actions, call her a liar, strike her; anything to stop her rant. Instead, I sat glued to my chair. I was breathing hard, and sweat had broken out across my brow.
Oddly, Tobias came to my rescue. “Stop it, Rada,” he said. “She doesn’t understand. I know I didn’t understand before my father tried to explain things to me. I still didn’t believe until I came here with Ezekiah. None of us knew the truth until someone took the time to show us.”
“I have always known,” Rada said. “I was born a slave. I have been a slave for over one hundred years. We always knew who our taskmasters were.”
“Who?” I asked.
She looked at me as though I had asked the most ridiculous question in the entire world. “Who else? The dragons, girl. My people were bred to work their mines in the Urtah Mountains. While you, and others like you, live in luxury, my people starve to death. The dragons have their soldiers stripping the flesh from our backs with their whips while we mine their gold and silver for them. The precious gems we dig out tear gashes into our skin.”
Rada threw up her arms, causing the sleeves of her robe to fall back below her elbows. Her leathery tanned skin was streaked white with more scars than I could number.
“If that’s true, then how did you end up here?” I asked.
She dropped her arms again and picked up a large spoon to stir the stew she was preparing for me. “Elithias had mercy on me and some of my fellow slaves,” she said. “We were rescued by Ezekiah a little over five years ago. I have been privileged to serve here in the kitchens of this castle ever since.”
“From one slavery to another?” I asked.
“Here we are free!” she shouted, stirring the soup faster and faster. “I serve here by choice, not by compulsion.” She ladled the soup into a bowl, walked across the room, then set it in front of me on the table.
Rada stood there for a moment, trying to compose herself. I hadn’t meant to start an argument, but I was curious to hear how she had come to follow the prophet. “So, you believe in Elithias?” I asked.
Rada looked down at me. Her anger had subsided; replaced with something like concern. “Yes, I believe in him. I have seen the dragons for what they are. You haven’t seen that side of them yet.”
“Yet?” I asked. “I’ve stood face to face with Belial.”
Rada leaned toward me. “Tell me, girl, did you feel Belial’s love washing over you and through you when you stood before him. Did you sense his compassion for the people who worship him? Did you find his mercy plentiful for those who sin against him?”
I could not answer.
Rada sighed, smiling wistfully. “Of course you didn’t, dear. You saw nothing of the kind because neither Belial or the others know anything of love, compassion or mercy. But you will find contempt and fear in abundant supply. They feed off of it.”
I was glaring at her now. I could not look away from her face. Somehow she knew what I had felt standing before Belial. But how could a slave, who had lived her entire life working in a mine, know anything about being in the presence of the Serpent Kings?
“You are not the first they have sent to kill Ezekiah,” Rada said.
“There were others?” I asked. “How many?”
“At least one every six months or so, I’m told,” she said. “Haven’t you wondered why they waste your lives? Haven’t you wondered why they don’t come themselves to kill him?”
I hesitated. Admittedly, I had been dealing with similar questions recently. But I couldn’t admit that; not right now.
“Why don’t they come themselves?” Tobias asked.
“It’s hard to be sure,” she told him. Rada turned to me, grinning. “Perhaps the dragon gods are afraid of Elithias’ prophet.” She mused. “The Serpent Kings afraid of a mere man; how funny.”
I was fuming silently at this point, but still curious. “Is Ezekiah merely a man?”
“He is a man,” she affirmed. “But he is Elithias’ man, and that fact makes all the difference in the world.”
“But Elithias is merely a legend,” I said.
Rada smiled as she laid a spoon in my hand. “Do legends give life back to the dead?”
She turned away from me and began preparations for a larger meal. I dipped the spoon into the bowl and swallowed a mouthful. I was surprised to find it so delicious. Before I realized it, I had eaten the entire bowl. When I looked up, Tobias was still staring at me. The boy who had killed me days ago sat there smiling at me inquisitively.
I couldn’t help but grin at him, flicking remnants of broth from my spoon at him. He quickly brushed it away. “Hey! What did you do that for?” he asked.
I laughed. “I thought if you were going to watch me eating, you should at least have some.”
Rada prepared two more bowls and brought them over. Tobias dug in with me. My stomach felt like a bottomless pit after four days without food. I glanced at Rada and the boy. They seemed to be sincere. If they were lying to me, I couldn’t sense it.
Had I really been killed? Was Ezekiah really a prophet? And if so, what of this legendary Elithias? Why would he raise a servant of his enemies back to life? All these questions and more would be waiting for Ezekiah to answer…if he could.
Ezekiah couldn’t believe what he was hearing from the Council elders. “I don’t understand…they’re leaving?”
“That’s right,” Harris said. “This is a sign from the prophecies, Ezekiah. We know you feel Elithias drawing you to confront Varen, but we also feel his call. We have a work to do and it’s time that we got to it. The death walkers are on the move as foretold, animals are attacking people, and the dead have been brought to life. It is time we brought news of these fulfilled signs to the cities instead of hiding here on top of Thorn Mountain.”
“But you’ll be exposed to the dragons and their wraith dancers,” Ezekiah said.
“Did you suppose you were the only servant willing to risk his life for Elithias?” Arthur asked.
“Of course not,” Ezekiah admitted. “I
t’s just—”
He looked at the hopeful expressions on his friend’s faces. They were right, and he knew it. The time had finally come to go out from the mountain and proclaim the coming of Elithias. The miracle had inspired them and they meant to go forth. “What else can I say?” Ezekiah said. “You certainly have my blessing. Not that you need it. When will you go?”
“I suppose we had better start out as soon as the people are prepared,” Harris said. “We don’t want to let their fervor cool off.”
“Surely someone will remain to hold the castle, right?” Ezekiah asked.
“We’ll appoint families to remain with some of the soldiers,” Arthur said. “But many of the people have family members and friends who still believe in the dragons. We have to bring our witness of these signs to them. We can only hope that news of the animal attacks and death walkers has already begun to spread in the cities.”
“Arthur, I hope you still intend to come with us,” Ezekiah said. “Who else could run the locomotive, but you?”
Arthur laughed. “Don’t worry about that. I wouldn’t trust my girl to anyone else.”
Ezekiah sighed with relief. “Good. I was hoping you would say that. I can only imagine how long it would take us to get to the cavern without you and old Ethel.”
EXODUS
By the time Ezekiah returned for me, my hunger had been satisfied. However, talking with Rada and Tobias had only made me more curious. I was actually looking forward to what I would hear from Ezekiah. I was still somewhat skeptical of the prophet, but I had no reason to disbelieve Rada and Tobias. At the very least they had been taken in by a smooth talker, or they were right. If so, then I had been deceived my whole life.
That thought was nearly enough to drive me to despair. The possibility that all I had worked for and hoped to do with my life had been a waste was a horrible thing to consider. It simply couldn’t be true. Still, we couldn’t both be right. Only time would tell.
As Ezekiah led me through the winding passageways of the castle I couldn’t help but consider how disjointed the layout was. It bore more resemblance to a complex of intersecting caves than an actual castle, but everyone seemed to know their way about. It certainly couldn’t compare to the fine marble structures found in Babale. But I supposed function was more important here anyway.
As we made our way—only Ezekiah knew where—we were joined by Tobias and several others. Along the way, whenever we happened to pass bystanders, they caught Ezekiah’s hand, shaking vigorously. Many of them also sought my hand, as though I were now one of them. The effects of a miracle, I supposed.
Still, Ezekiah kept our parade marching through corridors, eventually following a downhill grade. “Are we going down the mountain?” I asked from behind.
“Yes,” Ezekiah answered. “I think you’ll find this expedition very interesting, Gwen.”
For some reason I caught myself taking notice when the man spoke my name. There was something pleasant about hearing his deep masculine voice saying it. I slapped myself mentally and trudged on after him. His pace was manic. I realized suddenly that everyone we passed seemed to be at various stages of preparation for some journey.
“Is everyone going on this journey?” I asked.
“Yeah, what’s going on?” Tobias added. “Everyone seems to be getting ready for something.”
Ezekiah laughed ahead of us. “Some are going with us—mainly a few hundred of our soldiers—others are preparing to travel back to the cities.”
“They’re leaving Thorn Mountain?” Tobias asked. “Why would they do that?”
Ezekiah stopped suddenly and turned around. Everyone behind him nearly ran into one another.
“A great miracle has occurred, Tobias, and they wish to share it with the kingdom,” he said, smiling.
“You mean me?” I asked.
“Of course, Gwen. Who else?” Ezekiah said. “Elithias has raised you from the dead as a sign of his coming. Don’t you think the rest of the kingdom deserves to know the truth?”
Without giving me an opportunity to answer, he turned and was off again, winding through the tunnels leading us down through the mountain. The man was exasperating. Why would I want that shared? I wasn’t even sure that I believed it myself.
Eventually, our trek downward brought us to a huge cavern. Stalagmites reached toward their twin stalactites hanging from the ceiling high overhead. However, the dominating character in the massive chamber was a long, snakelike machine sitting upon a pair of steel rails that ran along the ground. The rails trailed away through a tunnel in the rock to places unknown.
“What is that thing?” I shouted over the noise of hissing emanating from the head of the mechanism.
Ezekiah stopped before the black beast, spreading his hands in grand fashion. “Gwen, feast your eyes on one of the last surviving great relics of the old world. This is Ethel, the only known locomotive still in existence today.”
“Why is it hissing?” Tobias asked. His eyes were wide with wonder.
“It runs on steam, young man,” an old man said.
“You mean like the printing press?”
“Exactly the same concept, Tobias,” Ezekiah said. “Only, Arthur is just about the only one who knows the ins and outs of the locomotive.”
Behind us, a swarm of people poured out of the tunnel we had come by. Most of them carried various weapons, ranging from swords, knives and bows to guns like those Peka had brought with him to attack Belial’s temple. They took their possessions and stepped up into large metal boxes that were linked to the front of the locomotive.
I stood away, trying to get a good view of the entire thing. There were ten boxes in all with small windows trailing down the sides of a few. The other boxes had no glass windows, but rather large sliding doors on either side. Those who were inside these boxes gave aid to other boarders, pulling them up by their arms with their weapons and sacks of clothing in tow.
Many people were running to and fro, trying to get things in order for our departure. Ezekiah was conferring with the old man, Arthur, who was apparently preparing to operate the great metal beast. I could only imagine what might happen when it got going. However, from what I could discern the whole thing must roll along the steel rails. No beasts of burden could be seen to pull it, but then the old man had mentioned that it ran on steam for power.
I could see white vapor boiling out of the strange head of the locomotive, hissing and fizzing. But I couldn’t fathom how steam would actually make it move. Still, it was a fascinating contraption to behold. Tobias remained nearby. He was having a closer look, so I joined him.
“How does it go?” I asked, standing next to one of the great metal wheels.
Tobias answered, but kept staring at the thing in wonder. “Oh, it’s amazing. What they do is take coal from there,” he said, indicating the open top box just behind the head of the locomotive. It contained a stack of black coal like we used in certain of our stoves for cooking and other uses.
“Then they burn it inside the engine which in turn boils water contained in that part of the engine.” He pointed toward the long tube portion further toward the front. “The steam is then used to drive these pistons along here that move the wheels and make it go.”
I listened to what he was saying, but it made little sense to me. “How do you know so much about it?” I asked.
“I’ve been studying Ezekiah’s printing press since he brought me here,” Tobias explained. “I love taking things apart to see how they work, then putting them back together. My dad used to show me things he would find in the ruins.”
His face grew sad at the mention of his father.
“What happened to bring you to this place?” I asked. “Where is your father?”
“He’s dead,” Tobias said. “He was killed when the bears near our village became vicious and attacked. I was the only one who survived.”
“But I’ve never heard of animals harming humans like that,” I said.
“Ezekiah said, it’s one of the signs that Elithias will come soon. He showed me the words among the written prophecies.”
“And do these prophecies also speak of people being raised from the dead?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “but I don’t think anyone was expecting it to be someone like you that Elithias would raise to life.”
“I’ll try not to take that personally,” I said.
Tobias simply hunched his shoulders, and then climbed up into the engine compartment where the old man, Arthur, was busy moving levers and adjusting different devices in preparation. I stood back watching and waiting for Ezekiah to tell me where I should be. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt the tug of conscience trying to warn me that I was acting like a traitor; that Belial would not be pleased by the way I was fraternizing with these enemies.
Against my better judgment, I pushed that concern out of my mind for the moment. So long as I fulfilled my mission to kill the prophet, Belial would surely be pleased. If, in the process, I also happened to explore my doubts and questions, then all the better.
But what if I found my beliefs in error? Would I still kill their prophet? And if I didn’t, then what? Belial would surely kill me for failing to carry out his command, even more so for my doubting him.
Ezekiah was suddenly behind me. “How would you like to ride in the presidential car?” he asked.
“What does presidential mean?”
“I’m not quite sure…a person of some authority I would imagine; perhaps like a king,” he tried to explain.
The prophet led me to the first car following the coal box behind the engine. Tobias followed once he realized Ezekiah was with me. His pistol and holster flapped against his leg. We stepped up into the locomotive car on a set of metal steps, and then passed through a sliding door.
The car was spacious with cushioned seats and several tables spaced out along its interior length. Another man, one I remembered seeing with Tobias, approached quickly to speak with Ezekiah. “How long before we are ready, Donavan?” the prophet asked.
