“Of course he did.”
“You work directly for Michael?”
“I am one of his lieutenants.”
“You are always with him. You attend the great councils.”
“There is much that I know, if that’s what you are getting at.”
Beth’s eyes burned with excitement. “Then will you help us, Teancum?” she asked. “Please, will you help us find our brothers? We don’t know where to go. We don’t know where to start.”
Teancum was silent for a very long time. He looked at the door, as if waiting, then dropped his eyes to the floor. He tapped his foot impatiently. “There are so many people,” he answered. “Billions have now joined him. And if your brother doesn’t want you to find him, it will be impossible. And even if I were to tell you where to start, that would not be enough. You’re still going to need someone who knows their cities even more than I do.”
“We understand that,” Beth answered, “But please, Teancum!” Her eyes bore into his soul. “Please, if there is anything, anything at all you could do.”
Teancum met her eyes, then looked across the table to Ammon. “She’s your little sister?” he asked.
“Yes, Teancum.”
“She can be pretty persuasive.”
“Believe me, I know.”
Teancum glanced impatiently toward the door, then stood and began to pace around the room. “Okay, then,” he said, slapping the table as he stood. “I agree, we’ve got to find Luke. He hasn’t been there very long, so it won’t be as difficult, but you’re still going to have to act quickly, before they can move him around . . . ”
Ammon raised his hand suddenly. “Why do you keep saying that?” he interrupted.
“Saying what?” Teancum asked him.
“You keep referring to him. It’s them, our two brothers. You know there are two.”
Teancum almost smiled, then sat down again. “Oh, well,” he sighed. “It would have been much more exciting to show you, but I guess I have run out of time.”
“Show us what?” Beth questioned.
“Remember I said there was something that you need to know? I was hoping I could show you, but we don’t have any more time. If we are going to find Luke, we are going to have to act . . . ”
There came a sudden knock on the door. Teancum jumped up, excited, his eyes bright and alive. “Finally!” he cried as he ran to the entryway. He glanced back at his friends, then pointed to the door. “This is so great!” he laughed, a huge smile on his face. “I mean it! This is great . . . no, this is better than that . . . !”
The knock sounded again and he winked, then pulled the door back.
Elizabeth cried. Ammon gasped.
And Sam stepped into the room.
Chapter Eighteen
Every eye fell on Sam as he walked into the cramped room. Time came to a stop, and the heavens stood still. The air seemed to crackle, and the only sound that could be heard was Elizabeth’s heavy breath, then a cry that she tried to hold in her chest. Sam walked into the room, slowly, deliberately, almost cautiously, a sheepish look on his face. His clothes were dirty and worn, and his bare feet were covered with dust, but his dark hair was pushed back and his smile was as bright as ever. He looked beaten, very tired, but his face almost glowed. He moved to the center of the room and came to a stop, turning to Teancum, then Ammon, then Beth. She sat there, dumbfounded, with trembling hands. “Sam,” she almost whispered, her eyes wide and bright. “Sam,” she repeated, struggling to hold in a sob.
He nodded and smiled, then lifted his hands. She gasped and jumped up, knocking her chair to the floor, hesitated a moment, then ran into his arms. “Sam!” she repeated again and again. “Sam! Sam! I can’t believe it is you!”
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I know you do, Sam. Despite everything, I always knew.”
Samuel lifted his head and looked toward his younger brother. Ammon hesitated, unbelieving, then pushed himself up and moved toward them. Turning, Elizabeth wiped the tears from her eyes. The three siblings looked at each other, then embraced for a very long time.
The young men finally sat at Teancum’s white table. Beth didn’t sit, but stood at Ammon’s side, her hand on his shoulder, leaning on him for support. Sam placed his arms on the table and leaned forward, staring at his hands, waiting for the questioning to begin. Ammon stared at his brother. “Sam,” he finally said, “What . . . ? Why . . . ?” He didn’t know where to start.
Sam looked up, his face serious. “This won’t be easy to explain.”
Beth lifted a finger and played anxiously with her hair. “Sam, where have you been?”
Sam looked away as he searched for the words. Teancum shot up, pushing away from the table. “I’ll tell you where he’s been,” he said in a loud voice. “You are looking at a hero.” He jabbed a hand toward Sam. “You are looking at a man who was willing to sacrifice anything–his freedom, his comforts, even the family he loved–all for the Father and the work of his Son. He is a hero and he deserves nothing but our respect and praise.”
Sam looked away awkwardly as he shook his head. “I don’t deserve anything,” he started to say.
“Yes, you do!” Teancum shouted, his hands flailing the air to emphasize his point. “Do you realize,” he said, turning to Ammon and Beth, “that Sam volunteered for a mission, a treacherous and demanding task? It was dirty, depressing, and lonely, and he was all the time on his own, cut off entirely from his family. Even those of us who knew, we couldn’t do anything. It was impossible for us to help him. He had to work on his own. This is a real hero here!” Teancum paused and lowered his voice. “There are so many you have helped,” he said as he turned to Sam. “James and Tia and Raquel. Paul and his brothers. There are so many you identified and led to the light–hundreds, maybe more, owe their salvation to you. You went into the darkness to search these people out. You took on the burden of living in their dark world. You saw those who had goodness, even a flicker of light. You were the key, the beginning of bringing them home. And they are so thankful. There’s not enough I can say.”
Teancum fell suddenly quiet, then sat down again. His blond hair fell back and he pushed it away. “I tell you,” he said with a voice of admiration. “You . . . all of you,” he looked at the three, “you are one special family. I can see it so clearly. I’m honored to call you my friends.”
Ammon stared at Teancum, still not able to comprehend, then turned to his brother, an amazed look on his face. “Sam, will you tell us what Teancum is talking about?”
“It’s not easy to explain.”
“Then get going,” Ammon said.
Teancum glared at Sam. “Come on, Sam!” he coaxed. “You don’t have to be humble.” He thumped his chest and smiled. “You and me, we are warriors! We’re the peacocks in the garden, so go on, strut a bit.” Ammon watched him and laughed, knowing he was being sarcastic but knowing also that was how Teancum really felt.
Samuel glanced at the window. “I’d rather talk about Luke. He is all that matters now.”
“No, Sam,” Elizabeth answered. “We need to know about you first. We can’t go after Luke until morning anyway. Now please, will you tell us what is going on?”
Sam took a long breath. “It all started,” he offered, “quite a long time ago. Right after the Great Council, when Jehovah and Lucifer presented their views about the plan of salvation, when the lines between forces began to form. As you know, all of my closest friends . . . ” Sam turned away, then continued, his voice suddenly sad, “every single one of my friends, all of those people I loved, for reasons I don’t understand, they all chose to follow Lucifer. They tried to get me to follow him also, but there was no way I would go. Over time, some of them became leaders in Lucifer’s army. As his followers began to separate themselves from the children of God, as they moved to other cities and began to congregate together, they became more and more bitter and began to lose their freedoms and ability to operate on their own. A
s a result, it became more and more difficult to send missionaries among them. But we knew there were some among Lucifer’s people for whom there was still hope. But time was getting short, and it was difficult, even dangerous, to work in the cities over which Lucifer had control. Our missionaries were outnumbered, and they were constantly harassed. But there were a few, just a few, who still had the light of Christ in their souls.
“So Michael came to me and asked me if I would volunteer to go among Lucifer’s followers, secretly, quietly, not bringing attention to myself, and talk to them, live with them, identify those who were not so calloused and angry, those who might change their minds, those who had secret doubts about Lucifer’s way.”
Ammon shook his head in amazement. It was entirely new, a concept so foreign it had never entered his mind. “You mean,” he slowly mumbled, “Michael asked you to volunteer to live on their side, to help him identify who might still be saved?”
“Yeah,” Samuel answered. The sheepish smile returned. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it. I mean, who would have suspected? And the great thing is, it actually worked. I was able to identify so many children–where they lived, who they were, what they were feeling inside–and send their names to Michael, who would send missionaries to them.”
Sam finished speaking and reached into his clothes. Pulling out a folded piece of paper, he shoved it into Teancum’s hand. “My last list,” he proclaimed. “There are only seven names there. And they won’t be easy, for it would appear that the day of harvest has passed. But if Michael chooses, it might be worth one more try to send someone to make final contact with them.”
“There is so little time left,” Teancum answered sadly as he took the folded note.
“Yes, I know. I did what I could before I had to come home.” Samuel sat back in silence. “And now my mission is complete.”
“But, Sam,” Elizabeth asked in a quiet voice, “why didn’t you tell us? Why couldn’t we know?” Her face was soft with hurt, her eyes narrow with rejection and pain.
Samuel lowered his head. “I’m sorry,” he answered in a deep, weary voice. “Michael wanted me to tell you. But I was afraid.”
“I don’t understand,” Beth replied as she wiped a tear from her eye.
Sam was quiet a moment. “Let me ask you something,” he finally said. “If you had known what I was doing, and Balaam had come to you, would you have been able to deceive him? Would you have been able to lie?” He glanced toward Ammon. “The same question to you.”
Neither one of them answered. “And that’s why I couldn’t tell you,” Sam replied. “Neither one of you is capable of telling a lie. And even if you had found a way not to answer, Balaam still would have known. The first time he talked to you, he would have known something was wrong. He has an incredible power of perception and though his gift is fading now, still he would have known. He would have seen it in your eyes and heard it in your voice. And if he knew of my mission, I would have been forced to come home immediately.
“I’m very sorry,” Sam concluded. “But I didn’t realize at first I would be gone so long. And it was working so well. We were finding so many souls, I got caught up in the work. I knew it would hurt you, but I didn’t know what else to do. Perhaps it wasn’t perfect, maybe there was another way, but I only wanted to help . . . ” His words trailed off.
The room grew silent as Sam’s voice fell against the wooden walls. “I hope you can forgive me,” he muttered finally.
Elizabeth moved around the table and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you,” she answered as she put her arms around him. Sam reached for her hand, then glanced over to Ammon.
“You have always been my hero,” Ammon answered proudly. “And you are even more now.”
Teancum watched them a moment, then slapped his hand on the table again. “All right!” he concluded. “I’m glad we got that settled. Now let’s talk about Luke.”
Sam focused on Ammon, his face drawing tight. “You’ve got to go find him,” he said. “I can tell you where they have him, but I can’t go there with you.”
“You’ve got to go,” Elizabeth said, shifting her eyes toward Ammon. “You might be the only one he will listen to now.”
“And you’re going to have to hurry,” Samuel cut in urgently. “And know this, my brother, there will be a personal assault. Satan will be waiting to deceive you and throw roadblocks in your way. He will not let you get close to Luke without paying a price. He will come after you, Ammon, and he is so powerful, he has powers of both persuasion and fear that are hard to believe. He has studied all of us for such a long time that he knows all of our weaknesses right down to the core, and he will tailor his words to test your very soul.”
The room fell silent again, the air heavy and still.
“Ammon will make it,” Elizabeth answered as she turned to Sam. “Lucifer may be powerful, but I have complete faith in our brother.”
Chapter Nineteen
The black and gray clouds seemed to hold the hot air against the ground, forming a blanket of oppressive heat that clung to the mountains. Even the low-lying valleys couldn’t catch a fresh breath. Behind him, Ammon heard the thunder rumble again, the sound echoing off the mountains and rolling along the valley floor. The thunder was brutal and angry, as if it were the utterance of a curse, a violent expression of fury and storm. The dark clouds began rolling into swirling pools of black, and he felt a great gust of wind and the air turn suddenly cold. An enormous drop of rain, single and fat, fell on the dusty road right in front of his feet and formed into a tiny ball of dirt that was quickly absorbed. Ammon waited, then turned to see the coming storm. The air turned gray and then black as the wall of water approached. Another drop hit his face. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the rains came pounding down. The wall of water hit him, driven by biting wind. He was instantly soaked, sending a chill to his very core.
He put his back to the storm and continued walking along the road. Lucifer’s city sat up high on the hill. It loomed in shadows; despite the rain and deep overcast, few lights were burning there. The road leading into the capital became crowded as he neared the outer wall.
Drawing closer, he could see that the streets teamed with people, all of them cursing and pushing, accusing their friends, hoarding supplies, tugging at each other and crying in fear. It wasn’t a riot, but it was very close, with breaking glass, smoking fires, and chaos in the streets. The pouring rain drenched the crowd, seeming to settle them from a frenzy into a dull roar. The filthy streets became mucky, in some places almost ankle deep in mud. Ammon stood outside the city gates until the wall of rain had passed, leaving behind a dull drizzle that splattered dirty raindrops on the muddy ground.
The crowd rushed around him, pushing him here and there. Ammon glanced at the people, seeing the hate and fear in their eyes. What was it, he wondered, that had set them to rage? Then he heard the whispered voices and finally understood.
They had heard the rumors. They were going to be cast out.
Cast out to darkness. Denied the presence of God. Cast down to hell.
No one knew, not for certain anyway, what these words even meant. Cast out. Hell and darkness. What did it mean? Yet, despite the confusion, the looming threat from God caused a rising anger in their hearts, a bitterness so thick it hung like a stench in the air. “Who are you to cast us out?” he heard people curse. “You are not my king!! I hate you! I loathe you! Why won’t you let us be?”
Ammon stepped back in horror. He felt filthy and violated even to hear the words.
“Who is he to come here and tell us what to do?” another said. “We worship another! We don’t want him for our king!”
Ammon felt a sudden sickness. Even in their fear, they were still mocking God. He recoiled at their words, hiding his anger inside. He wanted to fight them, destroy them, have them sent away. But he couldn’t. Not now. And it didn’t matter anyway.
The day was soon coming, in fact, it was nigh; if not today
, then tomorrow, their day of destruction was here.
Ammon stood at the gates, standing off to the side and watching the people rage against the truth. These people knew they were doomed. It was too late for them. They had been in open rebellion, cursing and mocking their God. They had fought against him overtly, seeking to pull him from his throne, seeking to usurp his power and claim it for their own–and if they could not claim his power, then to see him destroyed and to take down as many of his children as they could with them.
The day of repentance was over. The day of destruction was near.
“Cast us out!” Ammon heard an angry woman whisper to her friend, “I don’t know what that means, but if it means getting out of his kingdom, then I am for that anyway. I hate it here. I hate them all. Blubbering, self-righteous fools! I want to get as far away from them as I can.”
He shuddered when he heard it. It was inconceivable. An eternity of darkness. Unending misery and woe. There was no way to comprehend it, and he shuddered again. The rain pattered on his forehead and ran cold down his neck. He shivered as he watched, then turned away from the crowd.
He had to find Luke. He had to find him right now.
Walking through the arched opening cut out of the enormous stone wall, Ammon followed the road into the inner city, with its bustling, noisy, and obnoxious crowds. Many eyed him closely, if quickly, as they passed by. It was obvious he was an outsider–he was one of the enemy–but they were too occupied with their own destruction to accost him for now.
He stood for a moment at a triple fork in the road. One road wound through the city, toward the central square; a second dropped toward the valley, where row upon row of high-rise houses had been built. A third road, better maintained, but narrow and tightly-curved, ran up toward the mountains until it was lost in trees.
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