by Bryan Davis
Patrick looked up at Billy, dirt smearing one cheek on his grave face. “He is breathing, William, and his eyes are open, but if my old friend is in there, I cannot find him.”
Billy crouched near the professor’s head as it lay in the crook of Patrick’s arm. He pushed a sweat-soaked strand of his teacher’s white hair away from his brow. With his steely eyes staring into the sky and his mouth partly open, the professor seemed awestruck, as if gazing at a wonderful sight, or maybe a terrifying one.
Ashley knelt on the other side of Patrick. “I don’t know how much healing energy I have left, but we’ll both give it everything we’ve got.”
Billy nodded. “You better believe we will.” As he reached back to draw out Excalibur, the pendant vibrated again, flashing white and spewing a new burst of sparks. The energy swirled into a bright, cyclonic funnel and spun into the professor’s body, disappearing in a twinkle.
The teacher’s arms jerked. His hands grasped Patrick’s arm. He blinked his eyes, then raised his head, turning to glance at each person in the huddle. When his gaze rested on Billy, his brow lifted. “Billy,” he said, pushing himself out of Patrick’s cradle, “I will need your sword.”
Billy rose from his crouch. As the professor brushed off his clothes, Billy handed him the sword. What could have happened? How did Prof get healed without Ashley or the sword? And why did he say “Billy” instead of “William”? Billy cleared his throat. “So . . . you’re okay, Prof?”
“‘Okay’ is a relative term, Billy.” The professor took the hilt and raised Excalibur to the sky. “But you might say that I am quite ready to end this conflict forever.” He leaned toward Billy’s chest and spoke to the pendant. “This will be over soon, my dears. Stay close to the screen, and we will soon pull you out.”
The professor marched from the circle, Carl and Catherine parting to let him through, and the rest staring at him without a word. As he approached the black cocoon, humans and dragons gathered behind him. He energized the sword, shooting a brilliant laser into the sky, then halted a few feet from the smoldering black mass.
“Morgan!” he shouted, wielding Excalibur in one hand. “Come out and face me . . . if you dare!”
A fresh breeze blew across the field, fanning the rising gray smoke away from the cocoon. Sweat and blood dried under Billy’s sweater, cooling his skin. He shivered.
“Morgan!” The professor angled the beam over the top of the black cylinder, bringing it within inches of the cocoon. “Are you now trembling in fear behind your own skirts? Has the queen been forced into the corner by a mere pawn?”
The cocoon trembled. A crack slowly formed, inching its way from top to bottom until the two sides fell away. The professor set his feet. Billy took a step toward him, but his teacher raised his hand. “No, Son. This is my battle alone.”
Black smoke rose from inside the broken vessel, shrouding whatever lurked within. A sudden wind gust knocked down the two halves of the cocoon and swept away the fog. Morgan remained, standing fully erect and youthful. Only a scarred cheek blemished the smooth skin covering her beautiful, angular face. Jet-black hair streamed past her waist. A devilish smile grew on her ruby lips. “Is it a tired, old professor who taunts me so bravely?”
“I am certainly tired and old,” the professor replied, lifting the beam, “and I have been called a professor—of prophetic ballads, actually, a singing Elijah, if you will.”
Morgan took a step closer and gazed into the professor’s eyes as if trying to read his mind. “Elijah burned in a chariot of fire centuries ago,” she said. “He is nothing but a flash of light in the sky.”
“Elijah has returned, Morgan.” He leaned closer to her. “Do you not recognize your old friend?”
Morgan’s pupils burst into flames. “Merlin!” She floated backwards and thrust her hands in front of her. A swirling black ball shot out from her palms. Merlin vaporized it with the gleaming sword.
Morgan retreated farther, half floating, half stumbling. Fear glazed her eyes.
Merlin stalked toward her. “Defend yourself, you demonic sorceress, you murderer of innocent women and children. Your days of deceit and death have come to an end.”
With a wave of her hands, ten enormous serpents sprouted from the ground, but Merlin whacked their heads off with a single swipe. Black smoke erupted at Morgan’s feet, solidifying into narrow ropes that flew at Merlin and wrapped around his legs and waist.
“Apoluson!” Merlin shouted. The ropes ripped to shreds and fell to the ground. He continued his march forward.
Morgan swept a hand upward. Smoke shrouded her, then congealed into a six-foot-tall raven. With a flurry of wings, she vaulted into the air and sped toward the onlookers, her claws extended. She snatched Ashley by the hair and lifted her as high as the treetops. “Promise me safe passage to Avalon,” the raven croaked, “or the girl dies.”
Ashley, her feet kicking the air, grabbed the raven’s legs. “Let me go, you ugly vulture, or I’ll pluck you like a Christmas turkey!”
Bonnie and Thigocia launched into the sky after her. The raven dove away from the dragon, but Bonnie zoomed underneath and latched onto Ashley’s waist. Flapping her dragon wings madly, she pulled the evil bird toward the ground. As they neared Merlin, the raven released her catch, but Ashley held on to the scrawny legs. When they glided within reach, Merlin grabbed the bird by the throat, and Ashley let go. Bonnie swept her safely away and set her down next to Walter.
The raven thrashed her wings and clawed at Merlin’s chest, but the prophet didn’t flinch. He raised his sword hand, and the raven suddenly stopped struggling. She opened her sharp beak and croaked again, her voice sounding thin and strangled. “You and I both know there is only one way to kill me with that sword.”
Merlin relaxed his hold and nodded. “For a hell-bound wraith, you are well acquainted with God’s ways, aren’t you?”
Morgan’s bird eyes flashed scarlet. “A wise man once said, ‘Know thy enemy.’ And I also know that your wife toils futilely where dragons once rested. The dragon savior has come, but there is no one to release the human spirits who still dwell there.”
Merlin laughed. “Well, then, perhaps there are mysteries you have not yet learned.” He nodded toward Billy. “Bring the Great Key.”
Billy glanced at Bonnie and Walter. Both stared at Merlin and Morgan with wide eyes. Billy couldn’t blame them. The whole scene was worse than the most twisted nightmare he could imagine. Too much evil. Too many deaths. And, worst of all, what happened to Prof? As Billy strode forward, he pulled the chain over his head and extended it to Merlin.
The old prophet dipped his head under the chain and let the pendant dangle at his chest. As he straightened, his eyebrows lifted. “Do you have a question, my son?”
A sob welled up in Billy’s throat, but he swallowed it down. “Yeah . . . uh . . . where’s Prof?”
Morgan flailed her wings and squawked, “He’s—”
Merlin tightened his grip on her throat, freezing her in place. “He is in here with me, in this body.” A gentle smile spread across his lips. “Don’t worry, son. I have a final song to sing, and you must try to decipher its meaning. After that, you will see your professor again.”
Clearing his throat, Merlin gazed into the sky, reddish sunlight illuminating his aged face. Then, raising Excalibur high, he began to sing in a sweet tenor.
The war of flesh and spirit raged,
Two soldiers red and white.
They fought with laws and codes of men,
A covenant of strife.
But laws will fail and codes will pass,
Like flowers in the field.
Then faith and hope and love will grow
In hearts that bow and yield.
A dragon bows and honors him
Who suffered wounds and died,
For scales and flesh have common needs
To cast out evil pride.
And now each soul must choose his way,
To wal
k on feet or claws.
Will flesh or scales become their guide
To follow grace or laws?
The Key unlocks the gates that hold
A mind and soul in place.
Its light transforms surrendered hearts
And changes them through grace.
Now anthrozils may use that light
To make their gems grow pale,
To humanize their dragon marks
And cast away their scales.
The words burned into Billy’s mind, as though he could see a stone tablet chiseled with flaming letters, each word repeated in the prophet’s voice as he read it silently in his thoughts.
Merlin heaved a deep sigh and turned to his audience. “And now I bid you farewell,” he said, bowing politely, “but I trust that I will see you again someday.” With the sword’s beam blazing, he struck the raven’s head. Her black feathers burst into flames, engulfing the huge bird in seconds. Merlin released her neck, and she attacked him, pecking and clawing his head furiously while tongues of fire lashed his shoulders and ignited his clothes. Before any of the onlookers could do anything, both prophet and wraith burst into millions of particles of light. Morgan’s molecules dripped to the ground in a black stream, while Merlin’s white light floated and danced in the sun’s fading glow.
Billy leaped toward the dancing sparks. “No!” he yelled. “You can’t! You didn’t!” He dropped to his knees, holding out a palm as particles of light struck his skin and rolled to the ground. He could barely croak his nightmarish idea of what might be spilling from his hand. “Prof? Is that you?”
The sword and pendant lay in the midst of the shower, the rubellite flashing bright white. “Merlin?” Billy whispered, his voice cracking. “What have you done?”
The sparks of energy slowly piled up in two columns, each one taking a similar human shape—tall and lanky, with a broad forehead and flowing white hair. One of the shapes reached down and touched Billy’s head. He spoke in a soft, familiar British tone. “William, can you see me?”
Billy stood, his heart thumping wildly. He searched the shining face, a young, radiant face, yet somehow still old and wise. The professor smiled. Billy raised a trembling hand to the shimmering arm and touched its tingly surface. “Prof?”
“Yes, William. It is I. My journey to find the king’s star is over, and it is time for me to finally rest.” He laid a hand on the shoulder of the identical shape standing next to him. “Merlin and I will fly to our reward.”
“And Dorcas?” Billy asked.
The professor raised a finger. “Ah! I believe the answer is forthcoming.” He bowed toward Merlin. “After you, my good fellow.”
Merlin narrowed his sparkling hand to a thin line and reached into the pendant’s stone. When he withdrew it, another hand grasped his. He stepped back, and a radiant body of energy, female in form, emerged from the gem and jumped into his embrace. She and Merlin whispered to each other, then she turned and hooked her arm around his elbow.
Billy nodded, giving her the best smile he could. “Good to see you again, Sarah.”
She bent her knees into a half curtsy. “And you, young king.”
The professor inserted his hand into the rubellite and withdrew another woman. Billy recognized Dorcas immediately as she flew into the professor’s arms. “I remember!” she cried. “Charles, I remember!”
As Billy watched the emotion-packed reunion, a hand touched his back, then another. He spun around. His mom and dad stood behind him holding hands. On his father’s finger, the rubellite ring shone whiter than a pearl.
Jared pulled off his ring and handed it to Billy. “Since I’m fully human now, I won’t be needing this.” He folded Billy into his arms and whispered, “You were right all along. Chains aren’t so bad if you’re in service to the true king. All the souls in Dragons’ Rest saw that king . . . in you . . . in your sacrifice.” His father’s grip tightened. What was once a wrestling hold had become the luxurious embrace of a loving, human father who was home to stay. Billy grasped the ring tightly in his palm, unable to reply. He just patted his dad on the back and enjoyed the comfort of his strong arms.
Jared stepped toward Merlin and sank to one knee, bowing his head. His voice trembled. “My old friend . . .” He lifted his gaze, his eyes wet with tears. “You have watched over me . . . for a very long time.” His voice strengthened. “From the day you gave me the wine of transformation, through all my years as a human, and even in the depths of Hades, you have delivered God’s grace to me and my family.” He spread out his empty hands. “I have nothing to give that could possibly repay you.”
Merlin swept a glowing finger across Jared’s cheek and picked up a sparkling tear. As it dangled from his fingertip, he knelt close to Jared. “Here is my reward, Jared Bannister. The tears of a dragon are rare indeed, but I prefer the tears of a father.”
Jared and Marilyn stood and approached Professor Hamilton together. Marilyn reached her arms around the teacher and laughed when she passed through his body. She looked up at him, her face glowing in the light of his aura. “Thank you, Professor, for being a father to my son when Jared was unable to be here. Without you, Billy would never have found his true weapons, the sword and shield that come from the Light of the world.”
Professor Hamilton folded his hands together and bowed. “It was my pleasure, Marilyn, but it was the Light who really guided his way.”
Jared and Marilyn turned away, hand in hand. As they passed, Jared said softly, “Billy, Carl and I are going to start transporting the wounded to the hospital, so after you say your good-byes, we’ll meet you and Walter and Bonnie at the parking lot.”
His throat too tight to speak, Billy gave his parents a half-hearted nod. As they walked away, he slid the ring over his finger. Just after the band passed his knuckle, the rubellite flushed from white to red. He turned back to the four sparkling shapes and gazed at Professor Hamilton. Stooping low, Billy picked up the pendant, never taking his eyes off his teacher. After draping the chain around his neck, he gestured for Bonnie and Walter to join him.
They stepped to Billy’s side. The professor floated to Walter and stood at attention in front of him, his hands behind his back. Walter copied his teacher’s stance, a single tear trickling down his cheek.
“Mr. Foley,” the professor said, “it has been an honor to serve with a warrior such as yourself. It is likely that neither William nor Bonnie would have survived their trials had you not stood by them with strength, courage, and unshakable faithfulness.”
Walter firmed his chin and nodded. “None of us would’ve made it without you, Prof. You’re . . .”—half laughing and half crying, he wiped away the tear—“you’re the cat’s pajamas!”
The professor smiled broadly and moved to Bonnie. With her wings spread fully behind her, she dipped to one knee and bowed her head. “I . . . I have a song for you, Professor.” Her voice squeaking, she lifted her wet eyes toward her teacher and struggled past a series of sobs as she sang. “If I ascend . . . up into heaven, . . . thou art there. If I make my bed in hell, . . . behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea . . .” She couldn’t go on. She lowered her head and wept.
The professor’s glowing hand passed through Bonnie’s halo and paused just above her head as he sang the end of her song. “Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.” His fingers seemed to stroke her golden hair. “Miss Silver, the first day I met you, I saw a frightened orphan searching for acceptance and love. Now I see a valiant daughter of heaven, more deeply loved than you will ever know. I, for one, love you dearly, as do all who care to look beyond your dragon wings to find the heart of an angel.”
As Walter and Bonnie backed away, the professor returned to Billy, hovering in front of him and casting a shining nimbus all around. Billy stepped forward and tried to embrace his beloved teacher. For a moment, he felt only tingles, like a mild electrical buzz, but whe
n he closed his eyes, the pendant vibrated again, and the warm strong arms of his wise old mentor wrapped him up. Not daring to open his eyes again, he whispered, “I love you, Professor. And I’ll miss you like crazy.”
The professor’s familiar voice whispered back. “And I love you, as well, William, as I have ever since the day I caught you flooding the water closet.”
Billy’s memory flashed back to an image of himself standing on a stool with Adam Lark, a shower of putrid water from the ceiling sprinklers spraying all over him. When Professor Hamilton entered the bathroom, his eyes gleamed with mirth, the same kind of joy he expressed in everything he did. Yes, his enthusiasm for life never wavered, even though, as Billy now knew, he had suffered loneliness every day since his wife’s death.
Billy felt a pat on his back as the voice continued. “I hope our Lord allows me to watch you from heaven. I don’t want to miss your wedding for anything in the universe.”
The pendant fell still. The embrace evaporated. Billy opened his eyes and stepped back as the four dazzling people lifted off the ground. As they rocketed into the heavens, the sky opened up, a shining rift that captured their energy and pulled them into paradise. Seconds after their souls disappeared, dozens of pendant dragons lined up to enter into a true dragons’ rest. When the last one vanished, the rift closed and the sky dimmed.
Billy drooped his shoulders and slowly turned. He found Excalibur on the ground next to a thick black puddle, the spot where Morgan breathed her last. He kicked the oily mass, scattering sizzling droplets until they slowly sank into the dirt.
He stooped and wrapped his fingers around Excalibur’s hilt, the great sword that Professor Hamilton had searched so long to find and now had left behind. He lifted the blade and admired its detailed engraving, two dragons in the heat of battle. Finally, it all made sense. Every adventure undertaken, every prophecy spoken or sung, every dangerous road pointed to this simple truth—a battle between good and evil rages every day.
