by Bryan Davis
Professor Hamilton took in a long breath. “I suspected as much when I heard the popping sound it made.”
Billy kicked the leaves at his feet. “Could it be a chemical reacting with whatever it touches? An acid, maybe?”
Patrick shook his head. “No. I have heard it, too. The sound is too quick. Too sudden. More like the breaking of a tiny glass.”
“Yes,” the professor replied, pinching his chin. “That is the sound.”
“Maybe it’s like a delivery system,” Walter offered. “Maybe every drop’s like a vial of Morgan’s witch’s brew.”
“Possibly.” The professor spread out his hand, letting the drops pool in his palm. “But it seems to do no harm on contact.”
Patrick pulled out a handkerchief, wrung it out, and mopped his soaked brow. “It seems harmless for now, but we should not underestimate Morgan’s craftiness nor her arts.” He squeezed a few more drops out of his handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. “After all, her teacher is Samyaza.”
“At the very least,” the professor added, “the rain is keeping everyone at home and out of her way. Perhaps it is nothing more than that, a tool to spread fear.”
“And a fearful populace is an easily controlled one,” Patrick added.
The professor pointed at Patrick. “Exactly.”
“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.”
Karen raised the computer so everyone could hear. “Go ahead, Larry, but speak up.”
“I regularly scan Ashley’s e-mail, and I have received an urgent message. Please authorize audio transmission.”
Ashley pulled Karen’s hands toward her and punched a series of keys into the computer. “Go ahead, Larry. Let’s hear it.”
“From Morgan Le Faye, queen of the ancient earth and mistress of the natural arts. To Ashley Stalworth, mongrel daughter of a dragon. Although our actions are truly undeserved, Samyaza and I have graciously decided to spare the world, and the rain will now cease.”
Billy put out his hand. The downpour settled into a drizzle, then a sprinkle. How could they know exactly the moment they would hear the message? Could a Watcher be listening? He scanned the skies, but the clouds still hung low. There was nothing else in sight.
“Ashley, I’m sure you know what I want. You will receive further instructions very soon. If you cooperate, no harm will come to you. If you don’t, you’ll find that pebbles are easily crushed into sand.”
Chapter 7
ASHLEY’S CHOICE
Carl held the cell phone to his ear with a flaccid grip, his face gray and sagging. His lips trembled, and his legs wavered as if he could barely stand. Bonnie crowded closer and leaned against his arm. Since her touch always seemed to help Billy calm down, she thought it might give Mr. Foley some comfort, too.
Thanks to another Sahara treatment from her mother, everyone was dry, but not exactly warm. Although the rain had stopped, the clouds kicked up cold breezes, delivering shivers and goose bumps as she hugged her sweatshirt to her body.
Sir Patrick stood several feet away from the group, tending the newly restored fire with a fallen branch, mindlessly watching the returning knights as they dried themselves in showers of hot breath provided by the dragons.
“Yes,” Carl said into the mouthpiece. “I understand. I’m sure you’ll do your best. Thank you.” With a flick of his thumb, he closed the phone. “They’re both missing. Pebbles and my wife.” He shook his head sadly. “There was a note. It said . . . it said . . .” He kicked at the grass. “I don’t remember. I had them fax it to Larry.”
Bonnie took a sidestep away from Carl. “Does he have it yet?”
Larry piped up.
“Received and ready to read.”
Karen raised the computer. “Go ahead, Larry.”
computer>“Have the Bannister woman fly with Ashley in her airplane. We will pick them up in the air. After we have Ashley, as a sign of good faith, we will immediately release the Bannister woman unharmed. Do it by dawn, or we will begin delivering the Foley woman one piece at a time. No dragons. We will be watching.”
Walter punched the air and let out a roar that echoed off a nearby cliff. “We have to save her!” His teeth clenched in rage. “Now!”
Carl grabbed his son by his arms, his grip so firm his knuckles began turning white. “But where do we look? We can’t just go running out into the woods like madmen.”
Walter locked forearms with his father, spitting out his words like an angry cobra. “I . . . will . . . find them!”
“Calm down, Walter,” Ashley said. She began pacing, her wet shoes squishing on the saturated ground. “Finding your mother is simple, but saving her will be a lot harder.”
Walter jerked away and spun toward Ashley. “You know where she is?”
She stopped and raised a finger. “Obviously they want me to get Devin out of the candlestone, and they know I’ll do anything to save Pebbles. When I go with them, I’m sure they’ll take me to wherever Pebbles is to prove they have her. Logically, they would use your mother as a caretaker and keep them in the same place.” Lowering herself to a crouch, she plucked a long blade of grass and chewed on the end. “The problem will be letting you know where that is.”
Karen leaned over and pressed the computer into Ashley’s hand, her cheeks flaming. “Take this with you. Larry can track it. Just tell that gorgon queen you need his computing power to get the job done. She won’t know any better.”
Ashley twisted the grass stem between her lips, then threw it down. “Actually, I probably will need Larry. Who knows what kind of computing power they’ll have?” She rose to her feet again and fastened the computer to her belt. “If they make me toss it, at least Larry can give you my last known location.”
Karen’s freckled face seemed to lose its fire. She hooked her arm with Ashley’s. “Is it really worth you taking such a risk?” she asked. “Do you really think they would kill Pebbles?”
Sir Patrick rapped his branch against the ground. “Yes, they would kill her, but first they would torture her in unspeakable ways. Then, if you still didn’t acquiesce, they would hunt down your other sisters one by one and savagely brutalize them as well. Their wickedness knows no bounds.” He clutched an end of the branch with each hand and broke it in two. “But is acquiescing really the right thing to do?” He pointed one part of the branch at her, his arm shaking. “You are Morgan’s only hope for restoring one of the most wicked creatures in the universe, and in so doing you would provide the Watchers with a weapon that would neutralize our only hope for defeating them.” He threw both branches to the ground, and one stuck in the mud. “You might save a life or two, but you would put the entire world in jeopardy.”
Professor Hamilton spread out his arms. “But if it is in our power to save lives, shouldn’t we do it? Shouldn’t we try to save Pebbles and trust God to save the world? Shouldn’t we try to free a wife and daughter and trust God to liberate the rest of mankind?” He lifted one hand toward the sky. “God has long been in the business of providing the savior the world needs. Our part has always been to reach out to one soul at a time.” He pulled the branch out of the mud and threw it into the woods, a hint of anger in his voice. “Wouldn’t you have saved Shiloh from the circles if you could, even if it meant releasing the Watchers?”
Sir Patrick’s lips parted as if to reply, but for a moment, no sound came out. His bottom lip trembled. “Charles, you are sounding more like Merlin all the time.” He lowered his head. “I bow to your superior insight.”
The professor laid his hand on Patrick’s shoulder, his tone now gracious and calm. “Nonsense, my friend. You have a heart for the world. You have lived for centuries and have seen a bigger picture than I, so you have taught me a great deal.” He gave Patrick three hearty pats. “We sharpen each other.”
Billy stepped in between Sir Patrick and the professor, waving his hand. “Now, wait a minute. If I understand this plan right, Ashley and my mom are just going to take off and fly around until s
ome Watchers come and get them. Then, we’re supposed to wait for a computer to tell us where they went and figure out a way to get there with a bunch of dragons, even though they’ve probably made their hideout dragon-proof. And even though they really won’t have any use for my mother after they’ve picked up Ashley, we’re supposed to trust that they’ll take good care of her.” Billy shook his head. “I’m sorry, but this plan really stinks.”
Marilyn bounced on her toes, shivering. “As long as they need Ashley, I think they’ll keep their word. Besides, what choice do we have?”
“We have until dawn.” The professor pulled out his pocket watch and read it in the light of the fire. “That gives us about nine hours to consider the matter, but I would counsel for a much earlier decision. In our emotional states, I think it best to have a time of prayer and meditation now. We will reconvene in one hour to decide our plan. That would be ten fifteen. All agreed?”
Carl nodded, his fists tight. “Agreed.” He reached for Walter, but Walter just spun around and headed for the woods, his hands deep in his pockets. “Walter! Wait!”
He didn’t wait. With trees dripping all around, he disappeared into the shadows.
Carl sat down heavily near the fire, grabbed a stick, and poked the coals at the edge. The knights slowly separated, each one finding a spot to either sit or stand with skyward gazes. Professor Hamilton reached into his coat and withdrew a pocket Bible and his spectacles. Sir Patrick returned to the log and picked at the wet bark while Billy sat nearby, thumbing through Fama Regis.
Bonnie glanced around at all the quiet activity. “Isn’t anyone going with Walter?” she asked. “He looked really upset.”
Marilyn spread one arm around Ashley and one around Bonnie. “There’s something I’ve learned about men. They’re indispensable. Well, not all men, I suppose, but at least the good ones. In one way, they’re fiercely independent, holding their own beliefs and passionately following visions that no one else can see. They need time alone to gather their thoughts, seek God’s counsel, and get reenergized. But, when they get back together, they lay aside their differences and forge an unbreakable unit, like a single sword that rips through their enemies with furious rage.”
Ashley pulled away from Marilyn’s embrace. “I think I understand what they’re feeling. I’d like to be alone for a while, too.” She strolled toward the trees, waving behind her. “I’ll be back.”
Marilyn kept her arm around Bonnie. “Looks like it’s you and me, kid.”
“That’s okay.” Bonnie shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked on her feet. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”
Marilyn sat on the ground and patted the space next to her. “Let’s talk.”
Bonnie sat, not really wanting to look her in the eye. She gazed at the clouds breaking apart, catching a glimpse of a star as the gray masses breezed by. “You know a lot about how men think, don’t you?”
Marilyn pulled her knees close to her chest and shrugged. “I suppose so, but since my man is . . . was . . . a dragon, my perceptions may be a bit skewed.”
“Actually,” Bonnie said, watching the moon peek around a cloud, “that’s perfect, because I want to ask you about Billy, and he’s both—man and dragon, I mean.”
“Okay . . . go ahead.”
Bonnie lowered her gaze, catching Marilyn’s. Her matronly eyes seemed so full of love and understanding, it wasn’t hard for Bonnie to spill what was in her heart. “Well, I guess you know the prophecy. It looks like Billy and I are supposed to get married someday.”
“Yes, I know.” Marilyn took Bonnie’s hand and clasped it tightly. “And I can’t imagine a more wonderful girl for him.”
A surge of warmth flooded Bonnie’s cheeks. “Um. Thank you.” With her wings fully exposed, she never felt wonderful, more like a freak than a girl. “Anyway, do you think I’m a distraction for him? I mean, am I getting in the way of him doing what he’s supposed to be doing?”
“A distraction? If you mean, does he notice how pretty you are?” Marilyn’s cool fingers caressed Bonnie’s hot cheek. “He’d be blind not to notice.”
A tingle spread across Bonnie’s arms. The compliment was sweet, pleasant, but she didn’t want to focus on her looks. “What I mean is, if Billy has a job to do, and I’m with him, he might be thinking about taking care of me, you know, protecting me when he’s in battle or something. That kind of distraction.”
Marilyn folded her hands over her knees and nodded slowly. “I see what you mean. Let me think about that awhile.” For a moment, she was silent, her eyes focused on her lap as she hummed a quiet tune. Finally, when her song finished, she turned back to Bonnie. “I think the best thing you can do is to let him decide if you’re a distraction. I think you can trust him to keep his thoughts straight. He’s gone through so much. It’s like each victory in the circles added a piece of armor that protects him from temptations that might come his way.” She wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled them closer. “Trials change a man, you know. They make a godly man stronger, wiser, a better leader, and, believe it or not, more humble.”
Marilyn nodded toward Billy. He was shining the pendant’s light on a page of Fama Regis, carefully studying the glowing letters. The light flashed back into his face, trimming his skin in scarlet and brushing his hair with reddish highlights. Bonnie smiled. Billy looked more like his father than ever before.
“Whatever you do, Bonnie, give him room to be a leader. Give him time to fill out his masculine frame, always supporting him with love and encouragement. If he drags himself home from a defeat on the battlefield, impatient nagging will just cut his legs from under him, but an encouraging word will puff his chest out and make him charge back into battle. He needs a woman to inject him with power and purpose, because a good man draws his sword for only one reason, to protect his wife and children.”
Another tingle raced across Bonnie’s skin, and her heart thumped. Her soul drank in the words as Marilyn continued.
“The mind-numbing complaints of a shrieking shrew will pour acid in his cuts and squeeze dry his masculine energy. But the tender hands of a loving wife will salve his wounds and open the floodgates to power from above.”
Marilyn’s smile wavered. “I still have faith that my husband will return. He will find a way back to me. And I’m . . .” She cleared her throat. With her voice failing, she hurried through her words. “I’m sure he’ll never be the same again.”
Bonnie threw her arms around Marilyn and pulled her close. “I’m sure, too. He’ll find a way.” She felt Marilyn’s heart drum, beating faster by the second, then gentle shaking as Marilyn wept.
The growling whispers of two dragons caught Bonnie’s attention. Beautiful in form and sparkling in the firelight, they exemplified the glory of the dragon race. Beautiful, yes. But not human. Could that be what Marilyn was thinking? If her husband did return, would he be a dragon? If he had a choice, would he become human again? Did she suspect that during those long centuries in human form, Jared really wanted to go back to being a dragon, even if it meant leaving his wife?
Bonnie pulled her closer. She cried, too, each tear a salty pearl falling silently to the ground. Shiloh’s story came back to her, the fifteen-hundred-year-old story of Valcor speaking to Irene. He had said, “How rare were the tears of a dragon. We once lived in Paradise, and because of the corruption of an angel disguised as a dragon, all the world was cast into darkness. Now, as humans, we shed many tears—for what was lost, for what might have been, and for the end of friendships.” But Valcor seemed satisfied to be Sir Patrick, a wise old man who held the secret of remaining human when all the other dragons regained their scales. Did he have a choice? Was the dragon paradise lost, making him decide to keep his place in the world of corruption in order to help redeem it somehow?
These questions were too deep. Too difficult. Bonnie decided to wait and wonder, and just let this godly, broken-hearted woman weep in her arms.
S
helly sat on a lumpy sofa, curling her legs underneath her body. With the fireplace still radiating stifling heat, she fanned herself with a newspaper. Only a hint of incense remained in the air, and her mind felt much clearer than the last time she had come to this cabin. She dug her nails into her arm, cursing herself. How could she do that to Dad and Walter? Sure, Morgan said they were keeping a friend of hers inside the stone as a prisoner, so she had the right to take it, but she still felt like a conniving thief. And it was getting worse and worse. Now Morgan was threatening Mom and that little girl. World peace was worth a lot, but not that much.
A low, marble-topped table covered most of the wood floor between her and the roaring fire. A chessboard in a mid-game arrangement lay on the table next to a hard-shell ring box and a narrow, rectangular case. Shelly knew the candlestone lay inside the ring box, but the other container was a mystery. If she had been by herself, she would have snapped it open by now, probably finding a set of ancient pens or maybe even a magic wand. Yes, that was it. Morgan was a witch of some kind, so that was likely her wand. But since the witch was lurking somewhere in her mind and body, snooping in strange boxes was out of the question. Morgan probably already knew what she was thinking anyway.
She grabbed a throw pillow and slung it toward the fireplace, missing the fire but knocking over a set of tongs that had been leaning against the wall. She jerked her hand back, pain ripping through her arm. “Okay, okay,” she said. “You don’t have to be mean about it. I did exactly what you wanted, didn’t I?”
A voice entered Shelly’s mind. You did very well, but your anger demonstrates lack of faith in my plans. Patience. You will soon learn how the angels will defeat the dragons. Remember, your family and their friends have been deceived by Merlin, and the only way to rescue them is through the power of another dragon. And once the dragons are swept aside, the angels can establish their peaceful rule.
