by Bryan Davis
I whispered, “Selah, now we’re one!”
My heart has a friend.
It is you! It is you!
A friend who will stay
To the darkest of ends.
It is you! It is you!
I prayed for you then; I pray for you now.
And wrapped in my arms, this still is our vow,
To sing out with love, to sing out with cheer,
To sing for an end to hatred and fear.
Together we’ll rise to the highest of peaks,
Interlacing our hands in the darkest of holes.
As one we will sing of the caretaker’s love
And weave sibling hearts into unified souls.
As he breathed out the final note, Selah’s feet touched the grass, and she solidified, now standing at her normal height. The lyre’s spectral lights faded. Only Zohar’s fire remained, covering Selah with a flickering yellow glow.
She leaped into Joran’s arms. “You did it! I knew you could!”
“Selah!” he whispered. “You’re back!”
“And you’re back, too.” She kissed his cheek and held him close. “We’ve both been set free.”
Joran pulled away and gripped her arms, still hard and lean. It was so good to hold his flesh-and-blood sister again! Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered, “You never gave up on me. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.” Grinning, she poked his chest with a finger. “Now we’ll test our diligence another way.”
“Another way? How?”
“Learning languages, and . . .” She nodded at Mendallah as she supported her broken arm. “Fixing a Naphil instead of slaying one.”
A KNIGHT DISGUISED
A noise pierced Lauren’s brain. She blinked her eyes open and touched her jaw. An electrostatic buzz shot stinging pain through her teeth. What could be causing it this time?
She listened. What was that? A song? Yes, someone was humming through the tooth transmitter, but static kept interrupting, making it difficult to tie the melody together.
A clicking noise replaced the hum. It seemed to have cadence, like a code of some kind. Walter had mentioned using Morse code when trying to talk to Matt. Could he be doing that now? If so, it wouldn’t do any good. She knew the code for an SOS signal but nothing more.
She looked around. At the stairway’s landing below, the window in the door no longer provided light. With the power outage, maybe they had to conserve energy. The generators couldn’t last forever.
Lauren lifted away from the wall. A man’s voice filtered through and rose to her ears, but it was quiet, distant, and static cut out so much, his words didn’t make sense.
While looking toward the darkened door, she whispered, “Can anyone hear me?”
More clicks and more static droned through the transmitter.
Picking up the gun, Lauren climbed to her feet. The humming sounded like a woman’s voice, so maybe Bonnie was trying to contact her, meaning that the first voice was probably Matt’s. Either way, one fact seemed clear—they couldn’t communicate freely. If they were trying so hard to disguise the message, apparently they thought delivering it was crucial. It was probably best to stay awake and alert.
She rubbed her thumb along the gun butt’s smooth surface. She couldn’t hold off everyone on a military base with such a feeble weapon. And killing that other guard was so repulsive she could never do it again. Yet maybe just the threat would keep someone at bay for a little while and give the dragons enough time to show up.
A beam of light appeared through the window on the level below. The door creaked open, and a man holding a flashlight stepped through. He pointed the beam downstairs and waved it from side to side.
Lauren lifted the gun with both hands and aimed it at him. As violently as she was trembling, how convincing could she be?
The beam shifted and struck her directly in the face, blinding her. “Point that light away from me right now!” she shouted.
The beam dropped to the floor. “Lauren Hunt?” The man’s voice was deep and carried a kind tone, accented with a British flavor.
“Who wants to know?”
“Miss Hunt, you have no need to fear. I am here to help you.”
Her hands dampening, Lauren regripped the gun. “Like I’m supposed to believe that.”
“Walter Foley said he told you he has a spy planted here.” He shone the beam in his own face. “I am that spy.”
Lauren eyed him as closely as the distance would allow. He appeared to be Hoskins, the same man who caught her for Semiramis and then led the German shepherd. But he didn’t have a British accent before. Could he have been disguising it? “How can I be sure you’re telling the truth?”
“Well, if I weren’t the spy, I wouldn’t know about me, would I?” The man’s expression twisted in confusion. “I hope that made sense. When it comes to words, sometimes I am like a fish out of a water hole.”
She lowered the gun but kept it firmly in her grip. This man seemed friendly but not quite polished enough to be a spy. His fractured idioms could make people suspicious. “What’s your name?”
“Officially, I am Sergeant Daniel Hoskins, but that’s not my real name.”
“Okay, so what can you tell me to prove you’re on my side? You could be making up the spy thing, or maybe you caught a spy, and you’re pretending to be him.”
He charged up the stairs. Lauren slipped and fell backwards, smacking her bottom and back on the edge of a step. As her gun went off, the man snatched it out of her hand. He wrapped her up in a powerful arm, lifting her as he held her in a vise grip.
Lauren kicked and squirmed, but it did no good. Hoskins was just too strong.
“Now if you will stop acting like a scared rabbit, I will prove who I am.”
Lauren grunted. “What do you mean?”
He set her down and slowly released her. Then, turning the flashlight back on himself, he placed the gun in her hand. “My real name is Winston Barlow. My friends just call me Barlow, or Sir Barlow. And I am at your service.”
She stared at the gun, then at the guard’s smiling face. Yes, he was Hoskins. Even in the dark, his crow’s-feet were evident.
“Okay, I’m convinced.” She pushed the gun back into his hand. “If you don’t mind, Sir Barlow, I would feel a lot more comfortable if you carry it.”
“By all means. Better safe than sound.”
“You mean, better safe than sorry.”
“Yes, of course.” He slid the gun behind his waistband, revealing a paunch, but his broad chest and shoulders seemed to minimize it. “Now, speaking of safe, if you’ll follow me, I will put you in a safe place. When the dragons arrive, there won’t be many safe refuges anywhere.”
As he walked down the stairs, Lauren followed. “How long have you been here?” she asked.
“One week. It took years to establish my identity and get transferred here.”
“So why did you catch me for Semiramis?”
“I had no choice at the moment, but I was watching over you. Didn’t you see me when I was leading the shepherd in front of the research wing?”
“I did.”
“I saw you, as well, and I tried to keep the other guard distracted so he wouldn’t see your, shall we say, glowing personality.”
Lauren touched her cheek. “Thanks. It’s something I can’t stop.”
“As I suspected. In any case, I hoped to keep everyone away from Matt while he broke into the building, but when you attempted an escape, I couldn’t hold them off without compromising my identity. Fortunately, I was the one shooting at Bonnie as she and you flew away. The darkness served as a good excuse for my poor aim.”
When they reached the main floor, a dim light shone through the door’s window. Sir Barlow lifted a key ring from his belt. “I see that you already have handcuffs. Please allow me to fasten the loose one. I have the key and will unlock them at the app
ropriate time.”
Lauren extended her arms, allowing Sir Barlow to cuff her wrists together.
“This will open your cell door,” he said, holding up a key, “and you will have it soon, but use it only if necessary.”
“If necessary? How will I know?”
“When the dragons attack, your cell will be your refuge, but if the building catches on fire or begins to collapse, I suggest that you leave at once.”
“Good advice.”
Sir Barlow pushed a mobile phone into her hand. “Hide it well. It could be helpful in the direst circumstances. Act as though you are being watched at all times.”
“Okay.” Lauren slid it into her pocket.
“And you will have company, so the two of you can decide such matters together.”
“Company? Who?”
“You will see. I will make the appropriate introductions when you meet.” Sir Barlow withdrew his gun and opened the door. “Walk in front of me and pretend to be upset, angry, furious, whatever will make you appear to be my prisoner. Just follow the hallway to the left and turn when I tell you.”
“I can do that.”
Bending her face into a scowl, she walked through the door and turned left. A line of at least twenty soldiers passed by, marching in the opposite direction. Holding rifles and wearing anxious expressions, a few glanced at her, but her glare worked to slap their probing eyes away.
When the last soldier passed, she looked over her shoulder. Where might they be going? They seemed worried about something.
As she continued walking, Sir Barlow pulled a radio from his belt. “This is Hoskins,” he said, again disguising his accent. “I have apprehended the missing girl. I will take her to a cell for safekeeping.”
“Good work,” a scratchy voice replied. “Which cell?”
“I am taking her to A fourteen.”
“A fourteen? Why?”
“To keep our dragon guests together, of course. It’s easier to watch them that way.”
“Okay. For now. I’ll verify when the power comes back on.”
After a series of turns, the hallway grew colder, as if ventilated from the outside. Lauren shivered. This place was frigid! How could anyone stand living in such conditions? Why would they treat prisoners so harshly?
Sir Barlow whispered, “Stop, please, Miss.”
Lauren halted next to a prison door. Hallway light shining through the spaces between the bars provided a view of the inside. A woman dressed in jeans and a navy sweatshirt knelt low, her hands folded atop a thin mat and her forehead resting on her hands. From a high window, snowflakes blew in and settled to the concrete floor where they melted in a puddle. A toilet sat against the wall adjacent to the cell door, and a ratty yellow cloth hung from the ceiling by a series of hooks embedded in the plaster. Although drawn to the side now, the cloth was likely used as a privacy shield.
Sir Barlow inserted a key into a lock, turned it, and slid the cell door open.
The woman didn’t budge. “What do you want this time?” she said. “Blood, tissue samples, or a vital organ?”
“A look at your face,” Sir Barlow said, “is all I ask.”
The woman jerked her head up and stared. Her eyes widened, and her lips formed an indistinguishable word.
“Ah! Yes. Thank you. I studied your photograph, and now I have confirmed that Ashley Foley is in this cell, though that bruise alters your appearance somewhat. Now I can proceed with my duty.”
Ashley rose slowly to her feet, her lips trembling as she touched a finger-length bruise on her left cheek. She appeared to be ready to cry, but her tone remained sharp. “Who are you? We don’t get many male guards around here.”
“I am Sergeant Daniel Hoskins. I am not normally assigned to this wing, but because of the weather conditions and other concerns …” He gave her an almost imperceptible wink. “I will be in the area for the time being.”
“So you’re bringing me a new roommate?” Ashley looked Lauren over. “Kind of young, isn’t she?”
Sir Barlow unlocked the handcuffs and guided Lauren into the cell. “This is Lauren Hunt. I’m sure the two of you can get acquainted on your own.”
Ashley raised her voice to a near shout. “What did you goons do with Bonnie?”
Sir Barlow tapped his finger on his temple. “I’m no fool, Mrs. Foley. I heard you can read minds, so I will guard our secrets carefully. My mind is a steel trap.”
“Is that so?” Ashley set her hands on her hips. “Someday we’ll all get to see who the fools are.”
Sir Barlow bowed his head. “I must be going now, so—”
Ashley rushed at the cell door, but Sir Barlow caught her and wrapped her in his arms. He pressed Lauren’s gun into Ashley’s stomach, but Ashley turned the barrel back toward him. “Get that foul weapon away from me. You guards are all the same, bullying us around, and we can’t even defend ourselves.”
Sir Barlow shoved Ashley and sent her backpedaling until she fell and slid on her bottom. “That should teach you,” he said, shaking a finger. “I am not a man to be trifled with.”
Lauren rushed to Ashley and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?” As she spoke the words, her back began to tingle, apparently incited by the drama.
Ashley brushed dust from her jeans, scowling at Sir Barlow. “Trifle is a good word for you.”
“And petulant witch is a good word for you.” He slammed the door and marched away.
“That’s two words!” Ashley shouted as she peeked between the bars. When Sir Barlow was out of sight, she turned and grabbed Lauren’s upper arms. “Listen carefully. There’s a camera and microphone in here, so they’re listening to every word. They already know I can read minds, so it’s not going to raise any alarms when I tell you that you can talk to me by concentrating your thoughts in my direction. Understand?”
After Ashley’s lips stopped moving, the tingling sensation brought more words to Lauren’s ears. Please say you understand. You certainly don’t look like a dummy.
“I do understand,” Lauren said. “And I’m no dummy.”
Ashley’s brow shot upward. “Did you just …”
Again thought-words came through. Read my mind?
Lauren nodded and directed thoughts of her own. I think so. I’m kind of new at this. And it doesn’t work all the time.
“Very interesting,” Ashley said out loud before reverting to thought-speech. I read Sir Barlow’s mind, and he said the people here think you’re an anthrozil. Do you know what that word means?
As each sound radiated from Lauren’s back to her ears, she resisted the urge to shiver. It all felt so weird. It means I’m part dragon.
Do you have any other dragon traits?
I didn’t know I had any at all. I do know I have great hearing sometimes, and recently my hearing has been picking up thoughts. I also sometimes glow in the dark.
Glow in the dark? Ashley looked her over again. Okay, I think I can see it.
This room isn’t very dark, and I’ve been told my glow is pretty dim a lot of the time. I think it gets worse when my emotions are high.
Well, glowing is a new one on me, and mind reading is rare among dragons. In my case, I can’t penetrate people’s thoughts unless they’re careless or they actually want me to know what they’re thinking. So it can come in handy, like just now. When Sir Barlow and I tussled, that was an act. He spoke to me in his mind and said you know who he is and that he’s on our side.
Yes, he told me. Lauren touched her ear. For me the mind reading is more like hearing. I get a tingling sensation along my spine, and the sounds and thoughts ride up to my ears.
Ashley gave her a quizzical look. Along your spine?
Lauren nodded.
Interesting. Ashley touched Lauren’s back. I have medical training. Will you let me feel your skin?
Lauren’s tingles spiked. I … I suppose so.
Ashley reached under Lauren�
�s collar and felt the upper portion of her spine, pressing deeply and rubbing up and down. After a few seconds, she withdrew and straightened Lauren’s jacket. When was the last time you had a physical?
Before volleyball started, maybe three months ago.
Did the doctor examine your back?
Just the usual stethoscope routine, you know, breathe deeply and cough.
Ashley tapped her chin. Very interesting.
What? What is it?
Brace yourself. Ashley looked into Lauren’s eyes. I think you have scales under your skin.
Scales? As the word blazed through her mind, a sequence from her dream replayed, Enoch speaking to Joran as they stood outside the red ovulum.
God will raise up another Shachar who will be able to hear its song in her scales and locate it when it is needed. She will be in human form, so she will be quite vulnerable, because Tamiel has known about the Shachar prophecy for a long time.
“Human form,” Lauren whispered.
“I heard that in your thoughts,” Ashley said out loud. She then added her own thoughts. I know who Shachar was, the first female dragon on Earth, but I didn’t know about an ability to hear a song in her scales. I assume you think you’re the one who inherited that ability.
Lauren nodded.
Where did you learn all this?
I know it sounds crazy, but it was in a dream. This guy named Timothy mentioned Shachar, then someone else named Enoch mentioned her.
Timothy? Are you sure?
Yes.
And you’ve never heard these names before, right?
Right.
Ashley’s thoughts mumbled something about hearing the dream’s details later. She glanced away for a moment, her brow bending downward. Could this hearing gift be a recessive trait? Neither of your parents has it.
Did Sir Barlow tell you who my parents are? Lauren asked.
No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Ashley grasped Lauren’s hand. Do the Bannisters know?
I’m not sure. My twin brother is here, too, and they’re all together in a cell on the lowest level. They know who he is, but I don’t think they’ve made a connection with me. I told them I couldn’t be Karen Bannister, so they might not figure out the truth. One of the guards shot Bonnie, so Billy and Matt are probably too busy to think about me. I don’t know how she’s doing, but she didn’t look good.
