by Ted Dekker
But I didn’t blame them. I was in fear as well. It was as if we were all in a storm and we were all cowering, trying to be saved by giving in to the demands of fear. But now I knew: whatever was done in fear only created more fear.
Rose pointed to the top of the stage, and I obediently climbed the steps and faced the crowd, alone and high for all to see. She looked up at me, mouth set in a hard line. Fear.
“Today you confess your sins and deny the boy’s heresy before the church in a display of repentance. In doing so you take the first step to finding forgiveness. Do you understand the deception you’ve allowed to threaten God’s elect?”
This was it. It all came down to this moment. And I was trembling.
“Repent, Grace,” Bobbie said. She appeared at the side of the stage. “Save yourself today and we’ll figure everything out later.”
Rose waited, watching me carefully.
“Denounce Eli’s heresy,” Bobbie snapped. “Think of your baby.”
My mother’s death was evidence of what Rose was capable of under Sylous’s guidance. What would she do to my baby? Standing there before them all, I was terrified.
There is no fear in love. Only love casts out fear. A beat passed, and then, See the shadow.
And with that, my vision changed. As if someone had removed dark glasses that were distorting my view, the scene before me transformed into a terrifying picture. Thick cords of darkness crept along the walls and the ceiling, smothered in a wispy black fog. It was whispering and clicking, speaking its own language of fear.
The cords grew like vines from the floor, crawling over the pews, clasping the ankles of every member, winding tightly around their chests and necks, penetrating their ears and eyes without their knowledge.
It was the fear Eli had shown me before, part of the Fury. Like their scent. The wraithlike beings I thought of as the Fury were still hidden from my sight, but the whole place was surely filled with them, thicker here than anywhere.
I inched backward. Rose looked at me with confusion. The others stared, oblivious to the dark cords of fear that enslaved them.
There are two kingdoms, daughter. Choose love over fear.
The words hit me like an anvil dropped from the sky, and I began to shake. I was seeing fear coiling around the children and covering their mothers’ faces. That same fear was also in me, and I looked down to see black cords sliding up my legs and coiling around my belly like a snake. I could feel them slipping into my ears.
I started to panic, but the words whispered again.
It’s only fear, daughter. It’s a lie.
“Speak!” Rose snapped. Wafts of fog escaped from her mouth as she spoke. “Do you understand your sin and repent?”
I blinked a couple times to clear the darkness from my view, but it remained. I was shaking as I stood there, seeing our creations. I closed my eyes, ignored the thoughts begging me to end it all with a few words of confession, and spoke what I knew to be true despite my fear. This was my true repentance.
“There are two kingdoms, two paths, two choices,” I began. “Love and fear. Light and darkness. Sight and blindness.” A surge of power filled my chest and spread through my body. “We have given ourselves over to fear, but fear is a lie. Only love can set us free from fear.”
The surge of power running through me grew and heated my chest, and I opened my eyes. A glow hovered around me. The tentacles of fear clinging to my body were writhing and softening their grip.
The cords of fear choking Rose were tightening, slithering frantically. The jungle of fear in the sanctuary was hissing loudly now, as my words evoked more fear in those who’d been deceived by it.
Darkness was here, but so was the kingdom of heaven, seen in the light.
I spoke quickly, ignoring Rose, who was opening her mouth to cut me off. “God is love,” I said, louder now. “And whoever abides in him abides in love, and he in them.”
People were shifting uncomfortably in their seats, still oblivious to the Fury’s black cords of fear.
“A love that isn’t provoked, a love that records no wrong, a love that is unconditional and casts out all fear.”
With those words, the back doors of the church slammed shut. The windows crashed down, sealing us in our own prison of fear.
As if from nowhere, Sylous was standing at the back of the sanctuary, glaring at me with dark eyes. The auditorium turned to him in shocked silence. They’d felt his presence.
And with his presence, fear seeped back into me. The coils tightened around my chest and throat again, demanding I remain silent.
The hissing and clicks grew louder as many cords—hundreds of them, like rushing lovers—slithered across the room and up Sylous’s legs and ran into his torso, his chest, then his neck and temples. It was as if Sylous was energizing the fear in that room.
Or feeding on it.
And still, none of the others could see what I was seeing.
He spoke, voice low and gravelly. “It appears you’ve let the Fury poison one of your own.”
That was a lie, but I couldn’t find the courage to speak it aloud. Sylous was more than just a Fury, but he fed on fear, and the room was full of it. Seeing him in his greatest power, I dared not resist him.
“I thought I was clear,” he said, speaking to all but staring at me. “There is no remission of sin without the shedding of blood. And yet there stands sin, speaking lies to deceive you all.”
The rest heard only Sylous, but I heard the Fury, like a million insects now covering every bare inch of the wood in that sanctuary. I stood trembling from head to foot.
Then Sylous lifted one hand, and my sight of the fear ended. The black cords were gone, as was the fog. I now saw what they all saw—Sylous dressed in white, saving his sanctuary from the hells of sin.
“Perhaps the extent of my power isn’t understood,” Sylous said, walking down the aisle, eyes on me. “I am the principality who was sent to save you from hell. I chose you, gave you true sight, and called you to live in the protection of my kingdom. And all I asked in return is that you confess your loyalty to God and heed his laws. Was it too much to ask? It appears you would rather suffer the fate of all who refuse to confess their sin to God.”
“You should have listened to me,” Bobbie sneered. Her gaze condemned me. “I would have saved you. Now you’ll pay.”
Sylous reached the stage, took the steps in one long stride, and unceremoniously wrapped his hand around my neck. Then he hauled me down off the stage as if I were a doll. He stopped at the front of the main aisle, fingers gripping the back of my neck like a vise.
“I don’t have time for games,” Sylous hissed. “For ten years I’ve kept you safe from the Fury. Five days ago, this poor wretch sold her soul to the boy who came to deceive you all. Eli is dead, but his spirit lives on in the one he’s possessed. She must now suffer the same fate as the boy. Anything less and I will be powerless to protect you from the Fury you yourselves witnessed when the boy came. The choice is yours.”
Frantic, I clawed at his fingers. He only squeezed my throat harder, and I cried out.
He lifted me off the ground so the tips of my shoes barely touched the floor, then tossed me forward. I crashed to the floor on my knees and elbows, gasping for fresh air. I heard a click followed by several gasps, and I twisted back to where he stood.
Sylous’s arm was extended toward me. In his hand he held a gun.
It was pointed at my head.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
JAMIE WATCHED AS SYLOUS CALMLY PULLED THE GUN from behind his back, cocked it and pointed it at his sister. Part of him wanted to rush forward and save her, but his better discretion held him in place. She was poisoned; there was nothing he could do for her now. Really, she wasn’t his sister anymore. She was only one more soul destined for eternal hell.
He’d hoped having the blood of their mother on her hands would bring her back to the law, but it seemed to have no effect. She was complet
ely lost.
All that remained was making sure she didn’t drag all of Haven Valley into the depths of hell with her. He would mourn her because she used to be his sister. But now she had given herself over to the devil. If God could kill those in Sodom and Gomorrah for their sin, why would he or any of them offer mercy to one soul who had known the truth only to trample on it?
Can you do what is needed? a voice whispered in his head. Would you set aside your selfishness and do the will of God?
Jamie twitched, unnerved. But he knew the wrath of the Fury all too well. And he had no desire to feel the wrath of God again.
He would do whatever was required.
MY MIND FELT LIKE IT WAS BEING TORN APART, BUT in that chaos I was certain of one thing. If I stood and spoke about love I would die. And my baby would die with me.
“Make your choice,” Sylous demanded.
“Kill her,” Rose whispered.
Sylous turned to her, eyes hard. “What did you say?”
Her voice was strung like a piano wire. “I said kill her!” she cried.
“I could have saved you,” Bobbie said from the place where she still stood, looking on like a disappointed mother. “You did this.”
Sylous scanned the flock at Haven Valley. “And you? Will you fear God and follow his commandments?”
Whispers of “yes” rippled through the auditorium, growing in voices of agreement. But my mind was on Sylous’s last word. Commandments.
A new commandment I give you, that you love one another as I love you. This is how they will know that you follow me, that you love one another.
And there was no fear in love.
Sylous flipped the gun on its end so he was holding the barrel. He turned and held the gun out to someone on my right. I looked up into my brother’s wide eyes.
“Then we’ll let Jamie do what is needed,” Sylous said.
Jamie glanced around, then stepped into the aisle. He walked forward and took the gun from Sylous. Held it unsteadily and slowly pointed it at me.
“Kill her,” Sylous said.
Stand up, daughter. Stand and show them what you’ve seen.
My heart was hammering like a drum and my arms were shaking, but I pushed myself up and staggered to my feet. I faced my brother, who’d taken a step back and was sweating. His eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched, but he wasn’t pulling the trigger. Not yet.
And if he did? Then I would be with my mother. And Ben. And Eli. And my baby. It was really that simple. What did I hope to gain by saving myself? What good was it to live this life if I had lost my soul? My only purpose was to find my soul and do it now, even if I lost my life. My fear of dying was my own creation.
With that realization, a new thought filled my mind. Show them. I had the power to show them, didn’t I?
“Kill her!” Rose shrieked.
I held up my hand, still afraid but knowing why I stood in that storm. “Before you kill me, do you want to see what I see?” I faced the pews. “Do you want to see how the Fury have infected me?”
“Don’t you dare do this to me!” Bobbie shrieked.
“Pull the trigger, boy,” Sylous snarled. He was afraid as well.
I lifted my other hand in a sign of surrender. “I know how to get rid of the Fury, Jamie. They’re in here now, all around us. They’re feeding on us. On me.”
“You’re lying,” Jamie spat. But his whole face was quivering and I knew he was fighting himself.
“Watch,” I said, and I turned to Bobbie. “Show yourself.”
She took a step back, terrified.
“You’re my creation,” I said. “And I say show yourself!”
In the eyes of the rest, it probably looked like I had lost my mind and was speaking to empty space. But in the next moment, the space wasn’t empty. All who had followed my stare saw Bobbie appear.
Gasps peppered the sanctuary. She looked around, stunned. Show them, the voice had told me, and this was what I knew to show them.
Bobbie, dressed in black and white, blonde and beautiful, stood like a statue, eyes round and confused. But her bewilderment fell away as she jerked her head to me, face red. “How dare you betray me?” she growled.
“Show yourself as you are,” I said.
I watched as my close friend slowly shifted from a beautiful woman into a wraith. A faceless, black-hooded ghoul with long white fingers and blue eyes. She was different from the other Fury I’d seen, because there were many kinds of fear. She was the kind known as the wisdom of the world. But fear was fear, and as Eli had said, all fear was darkness.
I lifted my hands and looked at my fingers, then my body. “Show yourselves, all of you.”
Ten or twelve other wraiths appeared around me. Some materialized close to me out of nowhere. Some emerged from my body. All were intently focused on me, eyes piercing, jaws wide, a few weeping. Some had yellow eyes, others black, most white.
They weren’t spirits or demons or entities. They were fear—the same kind everyone in the world hosted without knowing it. The only difference was that on two occasions Sylous had given us the capacity to see fear more clearly than others—once thirteen years ago when he’d first appeared among us, and once after Eli had healed Evelyn. And Sylous did this to increase our fear.
Now my fears were showing themselves in fullness for all to see what they truly were. My creations.
My Fury didn’t have faces, but if they did, they would all be versions of me, and for the first time I truly understood them for what they were. My self-pity, my anxiousness, my anger, my hopelessness, my judgment, my self-criticism, my worthlessness, my victimhood, my self-righteousness, my disapproval of others, my fear of being deceived, my need to control any situation, my guilt . . .
Yes. My guilt, which was the largest Fury of them all, twice the size of the others, hovering over me and glaring with yellow eyes, arms crossed like a disgusted god.
And in that moment, I understood not only my fears but the fears of the world. A man jealous of another man who took his wife. A mother upset at her child for disobeying. A truck driver worried he wouldn’t be able to feed his family. A country putting up defenses at its borders to keep enemies out. A pastor worried he wasn’t serving the flock well enough. On they went—a million fears that blinded humanity to the light of love. None of the fears were less damaging than others, I saw. Anger was as destructive as murder.
The world had made an agreement with fear to keep it safe, but that safety was a lie wielded like a sword, turning the world into a sea of blood. Humanity had been murdering itself for a very long time. Only love could cast out that fear.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, because it’s only a shadow.
I stood still, letting my Fury be, surprised by how obvious they were. They were silent but desperate, and I was sure that if I’d been in a different state of being, they would have been able to tear into me as they had Jamie on the mountain. But I wasn’t giving them that power anymore.
Most of the people in the room were still glued to the far corner, where Bobbie had just unveiled herself as a black-hooded Fury. A symphony of alarm and terror had filled the auditorium.
Those screams were cut short when a gunshot echoed through the room. Jamie had seen Bobbie morph and impulsively turned his gun on her, firing into her body. Could a Fury be killed?
I slowly turned to Bobbie, doing my best to ignore the other wraiths now plucking at my gown and pulling at my skin, clamoring for my attention. The bullet had passed through Bobbie and slammed into the wall. Jamie shot again. Bobbie stood unaffected, looking at me with round, shocked eyes.
“How could you do this to me?” she asked in a pathetically desperate voice.
By now the whole assembly had seen the other wraiths emerging from me, doubling back and spreading their fanged jaws, silently roaring in my face or cowering and whimpering.
I felt fear, enough to make me tremble, but I also knew the truth. So
I looked directly at the wraiths circling me and held up one hand. “No,” I said.
As one, they all slowed as if caught in thick air. Some stopped altogether and stared back at me.
“I am the light. There is no darkness in light. The light is love. There is no fear in love. I am love, so there’s no place for you in me. So . . .” I searched for clever words, but found none. “So, no.”
I watched as my fears faded, one by one. Black to gray to nothing. They didn’t leave me, they simply vanished. But of course. Fear was of my own making, fueled by me, and I had pulled the plug through the full awareness of who I was.
To me, their departure was as though a thousand-pound weight I didn’t know I’d been wearing had been suddenly cut free. For a moment, I was sure that my feet lifted off the ground. A wave of peace rose through me and filled my chest, my mind, the air. I felt like I could walk through walls.
My fears were gone.
And Bobbie?
I turned back to the corner where Bobbie remained, staring at me, looking utterly abandoned and forlorn.
“I don’t need you either,” I said.
“Please, I can’t live without you,” she begged.
“I’m sorry.”
With a last mournful whimper, she faded into nothing. Like a fog under a hot sun, Bobbie was no more.
Lift your eyes, Grace. The kingdom of heaven is the perception of light. If your perception is clear, you will see that your whole body is full of light. Only blindness keeps anyone from seeing it.
My mind filled with a knowing that set my bloodstream on fire and transported me to a different kind of awareness. With my eyes open to the kingdom of heaven, I saw.
Where there had once been darkness, now there was only light. Warm, brilliant, washing through and over every surface. The floorboards, the chairs, my fingers. I caught my breath.
All around me were the faces of Haven Valley I was so familiar with—Rose, Stephen, Evelyn, Levi, Colin, Jamie, who held the gun by his side—all of them shining with light from their very souls, exploding in a prism of soft colors. I knew they just saw me in flesh and blood—Grace, the girl who was a heretic—but I was seeing them as they really were.
