“Adam,” Eve said. He glanced at her. “Lilleth is wondering where Abel is. He’s been gone all night. Would you go find him?”
Adam met Lilleth’s gaze, then nodded at Eve. “After you’re done with the tea, will you heat this for me?”
“I will make sure it is ready when you return.”
Adam turned to Lilleth. “Where might he be?”
“He walked toward the pastures last evening.”
Adam smiled, pulled the tunic over his torso, and nudged Lilleth. “Do not worry. I will find him.” He walked into the morning twilight and was gone.
Lilleth breathed in, then forced it out. Eve laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled. “Abandon worry, beloved daughter. All is well.”
Lilleth smiled and repeated, “All is well.”
But it was little more than a whisper.
3
Seth bolted up in bed, and the woven covers slid off his shoulders. His pulse throbbed behind his dark eyes, and he swallowed the taste of metal while wiping sweat from his shaved head. Ayla moaned next to him and turned to peer through sleepy eyes.
“What is it?”
He swallowed, but the excess saliva did little to cure his throat’s dryness. Already the details of the nightmare were falling out of reach, but still the world seemed to close in about him. “Just a dream, only a dream.” He slipped out of bed, walked to the wall, and steadied himself with one palm. His legs wobbled as if unsure of the ground’s stillness, and if Ayla hadn’t been watching, he would have dropped to his knees.
She rustled in bed and sat up, brushing milky hair behind a flushed ear. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She looked at him as if imploring him to explain, but he shook his head and said, “You can go back to sleep. I need to clear my mind.”
She didn’t lie down.
Seth walked the cold marble floor and slipped on his sandals. As hard as he tried, he could recall neither his dreams, nor any reason for fear, yet his belly was troubled by a creeping chill.
As he exited the stone house that the Man had crafted with his very own hands, the breeze carried the scent of leaves and flowers and damp earth. The brusqueness was rousing, so he began jogging the dirt road snaking between the houses that the rest of his family slept in. His joints ached. As he ran, he stared at the tumbling darkness above. Every so often, the sky was painted red with lightning, as if the bolts hemorrhaged the heavens.
For exactly seven nights, he had been awakened by nightmares. Only twice had he woken Ayla. Four nights earlier, he decided there may be a reason for the nightly recurrence. The effect of the nightmares on his body had intensified every evening, and even now, he trembled.
What are you trying to show me?
Seth lifted his eyes and followed the road up the hill to the well, which sat in the center of the City. His legs burned as the path climbed, and upon reaching the well, he sat on its ring. The rock edge dug into the back of his thighs as water whispered from within. Seth dropped a stone, waiting until it broke the surface of the water. He brushed the dirt from his hands and surveyed the surrounding land.
When they first came to the City two years ago, he had come to this hill every morning. The view and tranquility made it a resting place, and memories of times at the well hung in the air, calming the shakes. He thought of Ayla, her ivory teeth shining in the light of a summer day, laughing at him after he tripped on a stone. He smiled and moved on to the years ahead of them. He saw them clasping fingers and walking new roads with their brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews as the sun rose and set.
But then he thought of his eldest brother Cain. After over a century of marriage, Cain and Sarah had clearly grown apart, and that reality drained the color from Seth’s imagined future.
He shook his head and rubbed his face, redirecting his thoughts to his mother. He relaxed, thinking of Eve. When would she bear his next brother or sister? There were nearly eighty years between him and his older sister Lilleth. Mother and Father had been so focused on surviving in the days of their nomadic existence within the wilderlands that bearing children had been a luxury postponed. Seth had been a welcomed, albeit unintentional, gift after the Jinn had stolen Cain’s eldest, Lamech, from the world. Still, they had grown as a people, with grandchildren and even great-grandchildren born through the fires of young love.
And now they lived under the protection of the Almighty. It seemed only a matter of time before his mother conceived again. Even after all this time, he was excited by the thought.
Seth examined the back of his hands. His coloring was different from Cain’s and Adam’s. Theirs was an olive complexion, darkened by sunlight. Seth had come from the womb darker than either, and any exposure to sunlight had no visible effect. Would a new child look like him? Or like his wife and sister, Ayla, whose pale skin and green eyes reflected the sun like the sea?
The complexities of humanity were deep, and the thought of the Almighty’s creativity widened Seth’s smile. All of life seemed to coalesce as his eyes absorbed the City of the Almighty, crafted by the very hands of their Maker. In his mind he saw the connections form from his parents to him and his siblings, and watched them trace on through the generations, past Calebna and Lukian and to their children. Encircling them were the inner and outer walls of the City of the Almighty. Outside: Death. Inside: Life. A simple calculation. He liked it that way.
He breathed deeply, stood, and swept his gaze across the land. Something moved in the corner of his vision, and his blood frosted. A familiar feeling lodged itself in his belly.
“I have seen this before,” he whispered.
Down in the valley, a lone person stood beneath the canopy of a tree. He hadn’t noticed the figure before, as it had lain motionless, but he recognized it was his eldest brother, Cain.
A flood of images came upon him and threatened to burst his skull. In a fraction of a second, he saw blood drip from the tip of a knife, a woman’s mouth gape in a scream, and a man’s limbs break under the weight of violent hands. He tried to juggle the images and understand their connection, but they multiplied and expanded until he fell to the ground, thrust into blackness.
4
Adam walked to Cain and Sarah’s home, the next closest building on the way to the fields. Upon arrival, he called out, and Sarah’s muffled reply sounded from inside, “Come in!”
He pulled aside the tapestry hanging from the stone archway and entered. She was by the fireplace, the wood crackling as she poured tea. The scent of jasmine blossomed in the smoky air as she asked, “Would you like some? It is ready.” She appeared to have been awake for hours.
“Thank you.”
She filled a wooden cup for him, and he smiled when she handed him the vessel, though she looked away, placed the pot over the heat, and sat on a cushion near the fire. “Did you sleep well, Father?”
He sipped his tea, scalding his tongue before swallowing. “For the few hours I was allotted. Calebna and I were the last to leave, which would have been tolerable if not for my body deciding to wake before sunrise.” His eyes stung with the smoke, and he rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. “You seem alert.”
Sarah scooted from the heat. “I could sleep no more, so I rose and decided I needed tea.”
Adam nodded. “It does calm the restless mind.” He looked around and listened for movement. “Is Cain resting?”
“No.” Sarah brought the cup to her mouth and sipped several times before turning her back to him. As he watched her, he was warmed by compassion. As an infant, her grip had been strong and her will stronger. Even now he saw her toothless smile as she hobbled into his arms for the first time, and he marveled at the swiftness of time. Could the woman sitting before him really be that little girl?
Does she muse over Cain’s humiliation?
He took a breath and finished the last of his tea. “Have you seen Abel?”
She paused longer than he thought natural. “Is he gone?”
Of cou
rse, that would remind her of the Almighty rejecting Cain’s offering last night. He shouldn’t have mentioned it. He cleared his throat of the mucus the tea had loosened. “He walked into the fields last night and has yet to return. Lilleth is worried. You know how she is. I checked on Seth before I came, wondering if he had seen him, but neither Seth nor Ayla were home. I know it’s early, but have you heard anyone speak of where they may be?”
“I haven’t. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. Their house was a mess, though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after the celebration yesterday. So much to prepare for, especially for the women, and Seth has never cleaned a thing in his life.” Thunder rumbled in the distance. His words had brought tension, and he had little desire to add any more, so he set the empty cup on the ground and placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “Thank you for the tea. And may the Almighty bring you peace. His shame will pass.”
Sarah stiffened, and he could see her eyes fill with tears. He frowned. Her relationship with Cain had struggled for years; such was obvious to all. And yet, she had remained faithful.
He squeezed her shoulder. “You deserve more than he has given you.”
She shuddered.
He kissed the crown of her head and whispered, “You’re a strong woman. You should be proud.” He turned and left. Thoughts of Cain had put him in a mood, and he wanted to talk with Abel. If he knew his son at all, he knew where he would be.
5
Cain stood and began to walk home. The storm above raged like a caged beast. It tore through the atmosphere with invisible claws streaking red across the sky. As a fresh carcass impassions a hungry dog, the sight made him long for Sarah. But after over a century of marriage, the endless fighting had distanced them. He realized it was merely a symptom of the Fall.
Proof of my father’s failure, he thought.
He and Sarah, at moments, felt something more than loyalty to each other, but thinking on it made the past sting all the more.
He breathed deeply, savoring each portion of air that was free of Abel’s presence. He would endure the years of torture again just to feel such rapture as he had with that final blow, and he hungered for it with an intensity that frightened him.
He had hoped that freedom from Abel’s presence would remove the sickness, but though the pleasure had faded, the sickness endured. He breathed deeply and reminded himself of all the reasons he had killed his twin. Then he shivered as he remembered the chill voice that had rested on his ear in the darkness of the valley. It had become so constant he had almost forgotten it, but if he focused, he was able to recognize its presence again. It was there, it was real, and it was something other than him.
The thought that there could be something inside him manipulating his decisions was disturbing. But eventually, his mind reasoned, knowledge will unveil the mysterious as benign—just as the morning sun burns the shadows.
He ran a hand across his scalp and wondered at how no one but he and Sarah knew of Abel’s death. Everyone in the City of the Almighty was ignorant of Abel’s body now rotting on the river’s surface.
And what of the Man? Did he know? Did he understand?
Yes, Cain thought. Understanding. It will come, all in time.
He quickened his pace, rounded a corner, and saw someone exiting his home. He slid behind the nearest wall, held his breath, and listened past the thrum of his heartbeat. The sound of the footsteps faded, but the identity of the person remained.
“Adam,” he whispered.
Father must have visited Sarah and was now walking toward the fields.
He wiped away the sweat on his brow and allowed his lungs to reinstate their rhythm. Could they be searching for Abel so soon? His heartbeat raced, and he shook his head. Impossible. They believed too deeply in the Almighty’s protection to support suspicions already.
His fingernails dug into his palms as he looked up and willed the boiling clouds to wash away the blood in the field. He ground his teeth. “What are you waiting for?”
He’d hoped for more time to prepare. He couldn’t deny he wanted to be present when they found out, to see the knowledge creep across Father’s face, but he knew what would happen if he stayed that long, and for her sake, he could not risk it.
He threw occasional glances backward, but the streets were vacant and he reached his home quickly. As he entered the foyer, the scent of his wife’s hair was almost palpable. She stood by the window, bending in an uncomfortable position, as if to peer through the window without being seen.
All the noise in his head, even the ever-present whispering, quieted as he admired her. Then his foot slapped the ground and she spun and cried out, knocking a bowl of fresh olives off the table. Her eyes flashed as she cupped her mouth. She lowered her shoulders, but her eyes burned with fear. Her voice was hushed. “Are you alone?”
“Of course. Why?”
“You scared me.” Her breath came in uneven lurches. “They’re looking for him. If they find out what you did …” She shook her head.
Cain’s smile flattened. If they found the blood, suspicions would grow. There would be no way around it.
His eyes narrowed. Had she said something? The thought made bile bubble up his throat.
She wouldn’t have. She’s more afraid than I am of what they might do if they find out the truth.
His eyes roved over Sarah’s body. Then he walked past her to the next room and sank into a cushion. The voice came back louder, and he had a difficult time ignoring it.
She followed, her words hushed and her eyes glancing about. “I know what I told you, but I didn’t actually want him dead. I was just angry. You know that. You must know.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back while supporting his head. The voice droned on with hers, gnawing at his patience like an insect, commanding him to get up, to finish what he started and flee the City. “Say what you must to deliver yourself from guilt.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “So cold.”
“I say what needs to be said. You would do well to imitate me.”
“Father came to get your help looking for Abel. I couldn’t hold back my tears.”
Cain glared at her.
“I said nothing. He knows nothing.”
“Then leave me in peace.”
She waited, and he sensed the disquiet inside her. “What happens if they find him?”
“They won’t.”
“What if they figure it out?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How can you say such things?”
Cain stood, grabbed her arms, and shook her. “Whether you wanted him alive or not, he’s dead. He won’t ever come back. You cannot change the past. Nor can you remove your fingerprints from it.”
Tears formed in her eyes and her lips parted. He could see the fear, but also the searching. Her gaze darted from his left eye to his right.
He frowned. “I have simplified life. No more choices, no more questions. Just follow the path before you.”
Her muscles tensed beneath his hands. She was a wild deer, poised to escape. Untamed for a century and counting. “Where will that path lead me?”
“Have patience. Just know that I”—he paused and let his gaze jump across her features—“I won’t let them hurt you. This is a new beginning for you and me. I have shaken the world. It will take time for them to adjust.”
She stared while the voice in Cain’s mind grew louder. Over and over it repeated the same refrain, urging him to travel east. He felt his limbs’ desire to respond to those words, like a flame to his feet, and now, with the possibility of discovery only hours away, he knew it was almost time. As much as he wanted to deny the possibility, he had to flee soon. Yet the knowledge of what he must do to Sarah was immobilizing.
He cursed Lilleth’s inquisitive and worrisome nature. For the first time in his life he actually wanted someone to be stupid. His grip tightened on Sarah’s arms. Remain calm, he thought. You must remain calm.
; He tipped his mouth to her ear and whispered as sweat broke out on his skin, “If they really are searching for Abel already, then I have to leave for a while. Just remember what I told you. Remember me.”
She pulled away. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
He hushed her, forcing a smile though sweat burned the corners of his eyes. “Do not fear. I promise I will come back for you, no matter what happens. I will fix it all. Just know that everything that happens is a part of the plan I have set into motion.”
It felt good to hold and comfort her. He was surprised he wanted to comfort her. Their lives had been set on the edge of a knife, and now everything had changed. With a stone and two hands, he had changed the world.
He thought of how her body felt against his. Such a beautiful creature in every way. He desired her now as he had not in many years, and he slipped his hand lower down her back. His mind moved on, imagining enjoying her once more, but she jerked herself out of his grasp after sensing his intentions.
Anger burned his throat, and he thrust his palm into her face with such speed he hardly perceived the crack of his hand against her cheek. She stared with mouth gaping and brought a hand to cover the wound. To his surprise, the look in her eyes forced an ache through his numb interior like a spear through a wild pig.
He turned and strode out of the room as she sank to the floor and cradled her face. He stopped after a few paces and leaned against the wall to steady his breathing. She was crying quietly.
He breathed deeply, pushing his fingers through his shortened hair. All he wanted to do was hold her, but he knew he could not. It was far too late for that. The ache in his chest could not be dislodged no matter what he did, and the whispering voice droned on.
He rushed to the next room, grabbed a leather satchel, and started throwing miscellaneous items inside. Treasured carvings, gifts from his children, flint, rope, a rain cloak made of cured animal skin.
Cain: The Story of the First Murder and the Birth of an Unstoppable Evil Page 3
