Infidel

by Ted Dekker

  The Roush raised its brow. “Touchy. You really can see me, can’t you?”

  “You’re a fuzzy white bat-creature standing right in front of me,” Johnis said.

  “Amazing. It’s strange to be seen by a human after all this time. And why only you four can see us, only Elyon knows.” He turned away. “You’d better get your horses. It’s a long run to the Roush trees.”

  t took them an hour to retrieve their stallions and follow Hunter to the Roush trees. As one of the many sentries posted around the middle village, he’d taken the name of the supreme commander, Thomas Hunter, he said.

  They came to a valley filled with very tall Bonran trees, branchless for fifty feet, then spreading out like leafy sunflowers at the top. Johnis remembered the valley well because the flowers were a bright purple and were harvested when they fell to the ground. Their scent was used in many perfumes favored by the women.

  What he hadn’t seen the last time he’d passed through this valley were the hundreds of huge, round nests scattered throughout the upper branches. Nor the thousands of fluffy white bats that perched on the branches around those straw nests.

  “Roush trees,” Silvie said, gazing upward as Hunter winged up to join the others high above. “They … they’re expecting us.”

  “Looks that way,” Johnis said.

  The Roush lined the branches and hopped about, staring down. Large ones, small ones, babies even, bouncing on thin twigs that didn’t look strong enough to support their fat little bodies. The valley was filled with a cooing that made Johnis want to smile. For a moment he was too awestruck to remember why he’d come. These Roush had been here all along, unseen by any of the Forest Dwellers until now.

  “Do you want to climb a tree?” a voice said behind them.

  Johnis spun to see Gabil squatting on the forest floor, smirking.

  “Can we?” Silvie asked. “I mean, will the branches support our weight?”

  “I don’t see why not; they hold twenty of us. Of course, they have been known to break. That’s why we build so high. First, so we’re not stepped on by any beast or human, and second, so that if the branches break, we have time to swoop under the little ones before they smash to the ground. Pretty smart, don’t you think?”

  Johnis stared up at the nests—more like small huts with wood platforms that encircled them. Four tiny Roush were jumping with such enthusiasm on a branch directly above them that Johnis thought they might fall.

  “You’ll have to forgive them,” Gabil said. “They’ve all heard that you can see them. I also told them that I taught you a few karate moves.”

  One of the chicks suddenly jumped from the branch. Then another, apparently not to be outdone by the first. Then two more, screeching as they fell, like four stones.

  A large Roush swept in from the left, another from the right, and two more from behind them. As if this was something they did frequently, they effortlessly caught the youngsters on their backs and soared down to a landing next to Johnis and Silvies horses.

  The six-inch Roushes tumbled from their backs and rolled to their feet.

  “Are you Johnis?” one cried.

  Johnis was too dumbstruck to answer.

  “Johnis, say it, I know you’re Johnis.”

  “And Darsal!” another offered, eyes too big for its tiny face.

  “Silvie,” she said, grinning wide.

  “I told you!” a third chided his friend. “Billos and Silvie, that’s what I said.”

  “You’re both wrong,” Gabil corrected. “Johnis and Silvie. The two lovebirds.”

  A moment of awkwardness hushed the forest. Johnis felt his face flush, and he briefly wondered if Silvie was watching him, but he felt too bashful to look.

  More of the Roush settled to the ground, some carrying those too small to fly, some pacing in excitement. The forest floor began to resemble a cotton field.

  It all felt very magical and wonderful to him, but Johnis was stung by an eagerness to get to the Horde army before they retreated too for into the desert. Sweat ran down his cheeks although he’d ridden here, not run, and the morning was still cool.

  “We can’t help you,” a familiar voice said on his right. There, perched on boulder, waited Michal, the very Roush who’d given them the task of finding all seven missing books before the Dark One did.

  The same one who’d also given Johnis his mothers silver ring.

  “You gave me her ring!”

  “I can help you!” one of the small Roush chirped.

  “Take them to the trees,” Michal ordered. And without delay the young ones were scooped onto backs and whisked skyward.

  “I love you, Johnis!” one cried in a high-pitched voice.

  “I love you, Johnis,” another called down.

  Silvie chuckled. “They’re so adorable! How many—”

  “That’s not why we’re here!” Johnis snapped. He regretted the outburst immediately but didn’t bother apologizing. His mount shifted under him.

  “I said we can’t help you,” Michal said. “You’re on your own this time.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. You have to at least tell me if she is alive.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can—”

  “Rescue her?” Michal interrupted. The trees above had stilled to little more than the occasional squeals from chicks and the hushes from mothers trying to control them. “I gave you the ring so that you would know she’s alive. Having said that, assuming it was her, and I do believe it was, she is most definitely Horde.”

  Johnis felt a surge of anger swell from his belly. “She’s my mother. Not just some Horde.”

  “Easy, lad. Her mind is gone. Her skin and eyes are gray. She has no desire to return to the forests.”

  “And she left the ring for you to find. Why?”

  Michal looked away. “I cant tell you everything. I sought the ring from her. If you win this war, then maybe one day you’ll find her.”

  “Not one day,” Johnis said, suddenly furious at the Roush. “Now!”

  “I can promise you one thing, Johnis,” Michal said very sternly. “If you think you can find her now, then you’d better be prepared for far worse than anything you’ve dreamed of. I wanted you to have hope; I didn’t expect you to lose your mind. Patience.”

  “Take it easy, Johnis,” Silvie whispered. “He’s right.”

  “Yes, take it easy, Johnis,” Gabil said. “Michal is right.”

  One of the young ones above cried down before his mother could muffle him. “That’s right, take it easy, Johnis!”

  But Johnis couldn’t get his mind to take it easy. He fixed his jaw and tried to remain at least outwardly calm.

  “In the meantime,” Michal said, “put your mind on finding the books. The worlds are at stake, my friend. If you fail there, nothing else will matter.”

  “You can’t just tell us to go looking for the books without giving us a clue where to look,” Silvie said.

  “Well, yes, that is the challenge, isn’t it?”

  “Do you suggest we start looking under all the logs in the forest? Without any ideas, we’re stuck.”

  She was right, of course, but Johnis was more focused on the dismissal he’d been given regarding his mother. There’s still a way, he thought. One small way that just might work.

  “We should go,” he said.

  “Hold up.” Silvie looked at the elder Roush. “Well? What do you suggest we do? You know that Billos and Darsal will ask the same thing. We stumbled on two books, but what now?”

  “You didn’t stumble on anything,” Michal said. “Follow your hearts.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do,” Johnis said.

  “And try not to be stupid about it.”

  Johnis suddenly wanted out of the valley, out of this fluffy white sea of Roush. When the time was right he would come back, but right now the time was definitely wrong.

  Whoever in the Horde army had left his mother’s ring on the rock was
retreating even now. Time was running short!

  “If you have anything more that will help, you know where to find us,” he said, turning his horse away.

  “You are not as strong as you might think, Johnis,” the Roush said very softly. “Don’t think you can withstand the greatest test.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Silvie shot back, defending him.

  “Pray you never find out.”

  Johnis dipped his head in farewell, unable to find any words. Then he spurred his horse into the forest.

  Behind him Silvie said something to the Roush, then took after him. “Wait!” She pulled alongside. “What’s gotten into you?”

  He didn’t know. Wasn’t he only doing what he had always done? Wasn’t he thinking with his heart?

  “Where are you going?”

  He thought about it for a moment, then answered frankly. “To use the books.”

  he four fighters stood around the boulder in the middle of the clearing, staring at the Books of History that Johnis had placed side by side on the cloth.

  Silvie glanced up at Billos, who was distracted by the tree line. A Shataiki bat was up there somewhere, having shown itself once before retreating into hiding. There was nothing they could do about the black bats. Surely the Roush would chase them off.

  A tussle and a shriek high to their right was evidence of precisely this. Darsal and Johnis looked up with Billos.

  “Chased off,” Billos said.

  They returned their attention to the books.

  “So, there they are,” Billos said. “What about it?”

  “My mother’s alive,” Johnis said.

  “You don’t know—”

  “I have no choice but to assume I am right! And these books may help us find her.”

  “Us?” Darsal asked. “No offense, Johnis, and Elyon knows that I was a fool not to trust you before, but our task is to find the missing books.”

  “He’s lost his mother,” Silvie said. “Go easy.”

  “And I’m sorry for that. But we can’t forget our mission to find the other five missing books. We should stay on point.”

  She’d become a true believer in their quest, Silvie saw. Billos, on the other hand, was still more interested in the trees than the books.

  “We’ve only been home a day,” he said. “Heroes aren’t meant to rush off the moment they receive their glory.” He grinned and winked.

  “We aren’t heroes,” Johnis snapped. “This isn’t about us; it’s about …” He stopped.

  “The books,” Darsal said. “That’s my point; it’s all about the books.”

  Johnis stepped closer to the two books and studied them. “Then we should see what the books say,” he said softly.

  Billos was suddenly interested. “Open them?”

  “I thought that was forbidden,” Silvie said.

  Johnis leaned closer to the boulder. “No, we can’t risk opening the books. Only Elyon knows what would be unleashed. But there is something else we can do.”

  He reached out and touched one of the leather covers with his fingertips, tracing the grooves made by the etched titles. Stories of History.

  He looked up at them. “We made a vow last night, right?”

  “Yes,” Silvie said, and the others dipped their heads in agreement.

  “So then we have to trust each other with everything we know.”

  “You’ve held out on us, Johnis?” Billos demanded.

  “Before the vow, yes. But I have your word to stay true to the books now. Correct?”

  “Do we have yours?” Darsal asked. “True to the books, that is,” she said. As opposed to your mother, she was probably thinking.

  “Of course.”

  Such a true heart, Silvie thought. She didn’t doubt that he meant it, even though he was clearly distracted by the discovery that his mother was alive. An idealist to the core.

  “Of course,” Billos said.

  Johnis looked back at the books. “When I was in the canyon, I touched this book with my finger. My finger had blood on it. Before Michal could warn me, a dark world opened up in front of me. Like a nightmare. Only real.”

  “You had a vision?”

  “Michal said it was real. He couldn’t explain it, but believe me, it didn’t feel like a vision. It happened again in the desert, when I slept on one of the books with a cut on my head. That’s how I knew how to find Summerville, the pond.”

  “Now you think you can use the book to find your mother?” Silvie asked.

  “Why not?”

  “Because Michal warned you not to go after your mother.”

  “He did? When?” Darsal asked.

  Silvie looked at Johnis. “This morning we went to the Roush trees.”

  Darsal looked at him with wide eyes that wondered why he hadn’t invited her along. Or Billos, for that matter.

  Johnis laid his eyes on the books, ignoring their stares. “If the books don’t mean for me to go after my mother, they won’t show me, will they?”

  Billos stood over the rock. “You’re saying we could have this vision right now?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “How?” Billos touched one of the books, eyes lost in mystery.

  Johnis pulled out his knife. “By cutting our fingers and touching the books.”

  “Really? What’s it like?”

  “I told you, a dark world. Enough to stop your heart, trust me.”

  “Michal said it was dangerous,” Darsal said. “I don’t think this is wise.”

  Johnis’s jaw was fixed with determination. Looking at him now, with his high cheekbones and soft brown eyes, hair falling over his brow, Silvie felt her heart tighten. This man whom she’d followed to hell once before would not be easily turned back. An idealist with resolve.

  In answer, Johnis lifted his left hand and drew the blade over his index finger. Blood seeped from the skin. He stared at them. “Who’s with me?”

  Billos withdrew his knife and cut his finger without a word.

  Silvie touched Johnis’s shoulder gently. “Are you sure—”

  “Did we need water in the desert?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did I find you water?”

  “Yes.”

  “I used the book and we’re alive, aren’t we?”

  A drop of blood ran around his finger, Silvie exchanged a nervous glance with Darsal, then cut her finger as the men had. Darsal grunted in protest and followed their example. Now all four stood around the books, each looking at a line of blood on a finger.

  “Brace yourselves,” Johnis said, then lowered his hand and touched a book.

  The moment his blood came in contact with the leather cover, he gasped. His body went rigid, and his mouth stretched in a silent cry. Silvie stared in amazement. Did he really expect all of them to subject themselves to whatever horrors waited in this dark world?

  Billos shoved his finger down onto the book and gasped. Then Darsal. Now all three of them were trembling, eyes closed.

  Silvie followed their example impulsively, refusing to consider the consequences any longer. She lowered her finger next to Johnis’s and touched a book.

  The darkness came at her like a blast of heat and swallowed her. Shed expected something, but not this flash of blackness.

  A dark being stood in front of her, reaching out with fingers that looked too long. She couldn’t tell if this was a man or a woman or a beast because he-she-it wore a hood and cape. Or was it wings? Enshrouded in shadow and distorted by heat waves.

  A loud moan filled Silvie’s ears, and she instinctively cowered. Such a sound of trembling agony that she thought she might be dying. But there was another sound, a woman’s cry, behind the moan, echoing softly.

  “Johnis … Johnisssss.”

  The dark man-beast’s arm reached for Silvie slowly, and she felt herself panic. Just beyond the darkness the horizon faded to light. A desert fogged by black streaks.

  This was the other world?

/>   But the Dark One was trying to kill her. She stepped back, and only then managed to remember that her finger was on the book, making the contact. She yanked it off.

  The dark world blinked off. Forest light blinded her.

  Silvie jumped back and stared at the others who’d already come out as well. Billos had his eyes on the books, captured by a frightful fascination. Darsal trembled slightly. Johnis’s face had gone white, like a Roush.

  No one could speak.

  “Did you see him?” Billos finally whispered.

  “The Dark One,” Darsal said. “The books are evil?”

  “The Dark One is evil,” Silvie breathed. “The books reveal the truth. They’re Books of History, after all. Absolutely true history.”

  Billos wiped his bloody finger on his pants. “They do more than reveal truth, clearly. What was that behind the Dark One? The desert?”

  Johnis spun from them and paced three steps before whirling back. “Did you hear her?” he cried.

  The woman …

  “Did you hear my mother?”

  Silvie had heard a woman, but not a voice she recognized. Then again, she hadn’t known Johnis’s mother. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes! She’s alive.”

  “But I didn’t see anything that would help us find her,” Darsal said.

  “You heard her, though! She’s out there! In the desert!”

  His eyes were wide and pooled with tears. Silvie had never seen him so frenzied. Contact with the book had pushed him even further over the edge.

  “Please, Johnis, we don’t know that.” She closed the gap between them. “What I saw was evil, and the intentions weren’t good. I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”

  Johnis closed his mouth and drilled her with a stare, nostrils flaring.

  “The books have more power than anyone could have imagined,” Billos said. He slowly reached for one of them.

  Johnis marched up to the rock, shoved Billos aside, covered both books with the cloth, and carried them back to his stallion. He had that look, Silvie saw. The one he always had before jumping off a cliff.

  “Where are you going?” Billos demanded. “They aren’t your books, you egotistical, slimy snake!”

  “They are for now.” Johnis flung himself into his saddle, whipped the reins around the horses head, and glared at them. “We have a mission to find the other five books. Until we have them all and they are in safe keeping with Elyon himself, I’ll guard them with my life.”