From the Mouth of Elijah

by Bryan Davis

  “I am looking forward to hearing this story,” Eagle said, “but I will be patient. If you are a dragon doctor, proceed by all means.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Matt laid a hand over the gash. Moist heat radiated from within. “What hit him?”

  “A boulder.” Listener touched a stream of blood near the wound. “Because of the way Mount Elijah rumbled and shook the ground, Valiant, our historian and expert in nature, thought an eruption was coming that would be far worse than any we had experienced, so he loaded as many women and children as our flying hospital could safely hold and sent it into the sky.”

  “A flying hospital?”

  “Yes.” She spread out her arms. “It has wings, like Earth’s airplanes. We had a bigger hospital, but we modified it into a smaller one with wings to make it more versatile. It’s probably not the best time to give you details.”

  Matt nodded. “You’re right. Go on.”

  “Then Valiant gathered the remaining children he could find quickly and sent us to this valley, charging Eagle and me with the responsibility of seeing them to safety. Albatross carried Eagle and four children, and Grackle carried three children and me, though he labored greatly because of his age. In fact, both dragons were overloaded and had to rest every few minutes. By the time we reached Adam’s Marsh, the entire top of the mountain exploded, and stones flew everywhere. One struck Albatross, and although he faltered for a moment, he recovered and flew on. Both dragons had to rise into the clouds to avoid the storm, so we couldn’t see anything or breathe clean air until we dove into the valley. When we landed, Albatross collapsed, spilling his passengers. One boy was dead, his skull fractured by a stone.”

  Eagle held up an arm, revealing bloody wounds from his palm down to his elbow. “I blocked as many stones as I could, but …” His voice cracked. “But one got through.”

  Matt grimaced. Eagle took quite a barrage for these kids. At home, he’d get a medal. Anyone who would sacrifice like that was a hero in his book.

  “I held Merit in place on Albatross for quite some time.” Eagle nodded toward the back of the cave. “Though in vain.”

  Matt looked that way. Near the wall, rocks had been piled up in the shape of a small human body. “Merit,” he whispered. “Poor kid.”

  “A fine boy. We all loved him.” Tears sparkling in his bright eyes, Eagle continued. “After we landed, Grackle and the rest of us worked together to get Albatross into this cave because he was having trouble breathing. We thought the air might be cleaner here.”

  “Good idea.” Matt nodded toward the cave entrance. “Semiramis said there are leaves that filter the air.”

  Listener chimed in. “Keelvar leaves, but I have not yet looked for any. Besides, it takes an expert like Valiant to identify them. They look like one of the more common varieties.”

  “Valiant. He must be a very important man.”

  “Not only is he our revered historian, he is the leader of one of the villages, supremely capable and highly respected by all.” She smiled at Eagle. “And he is Eagle’s father.”

  Eagle returned the smile. “Thank you for the gracious assessment. Of course, I agree, as any proud son would.”

  Matt added a smile of his own. Hanging around these two would lift anyone’s spirits. “I’d better see what I can do to help this dragon.” He pushed his fingers into the wound and massaged a cracked rib. The hole seemed to go no deeper. The dragon’s collapse was likely due to loss of blood rather than organ damage.

  While he worked, he glanced at the onlookers, all staring at him wide-eyed. Their floating eggs hovered in place, each one motionless as they, too, seemed mesmerized. Matt cleared his throat. Maybe it would be best to make small talk to settle his nerves. “Why did Valiant choose Elijah for the volcano’s name?”

  Listener and Eagle looked at each other, both smiling. “You tell him,” Eagle said. “My own estimation of my father’s wisdom might wear out our visitor’s ears.”

  “Wisdom is never a burden.” Listener focused on Matt, her face turning somber. “A prophet from your world said in your holy scriptures, ‘Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord, and he shall turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.’”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard that before.” Matt continued the massage. So far, nothing had changed. Maybe his healing touch hadn’t kicked in yet. “You have an excellent memory.”

  “I remember everything I hear. That’s one of the reasons my name is Listener.”

  “Okay.” Matt gazed into her eyes. How old might she be? Eighteen? Twenty? “I still don’t get the connection. What’s a volcano got to do with fathers and their children?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. You wouldn’t know.” Listener drew in the air with a finger. “Because of trails cut into the side, the volcano was once very easy to climb in spite of its height. Years ago, it was a tradition for fathers to hike with their children to the summit, though that practice later stopped when our prophet plugged the hole leading into the volcano’s throat, though it was later unplugged for reasons I won’t go into. You see, our prophet thought it was too dangerous, that children might be tempted to go there by themselves, which is true, but others talked about an old saying that if a person were to fall into Elijah’s mouth, he would surely spew them out with great wrath.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  Listener glanced at Eagle before answering. “There is some evidence. The last time Elijah erupted, maybe sixteen or seventeen years ago during a time the mouth was not plugged, I was watching the mountain through my spyglass, and I saw someone fall into the crater. Since the volcano’s top was mostly intact at the time, I was surprised that I was able to see it happen, though the spyglass is known to allow visions beyond normal perception, at least for me.”

  Still massaging, Matt let out a whistle. “That must have been scary for a little girl.”

  “Little?” Listener shrugged. “I might be older than you think.”

  Eagle grinned. “Our people say Listener came out of her pod old. Even before she could talk, she wanted to be a doctor. She analyzes everything.”

  “Before I could talk?” Listener’s countenance grew dark. “My ability to speak was greatly delayed, but that story would take too long to tell.”

  “That’s fine.” Matt gave her a prompting nod. “Is there more to the volcano story?”

  “Yes.” Her smile returning, she seemed pleased to switch the topic. “When the parents and children arrived on the mountain-top, they would look out over the land of Second Eden and give thanks for the creation the Father of Lights bestowed. Then they would gaze into the mountain’s throat at the fire in its belly and shudder together. Fathers would remind their children that although the Father of Lights is filled with love in providing a wonderful world in which to live, he also reserves wrath for those who rebel against him.

  “During those days, our people had no rebellion in our midst, so the children had no knowledge of the potential for punishment. On that mountain, the contrast between beauty and death provided a vivid illustration of love versus the danger of abandoning that love, and the experience fostered a lasting bond between father and child that we all cherish.”

  Matt felt his mouth drop open. How many young women on Earth could speak with such eloquence and wisdom? Listener was amazing.

  Her head drooped. “Now that Elijah has exploded and done such damage, some are wondering if the great and dreadful day of the Lord is coming or has already come. Perhaps your world or our world is being smitten with a curse.”

  “Right. The damage.” Matt shook his attention away from Listener and concentrated his energy on the dragon’s wound. “Have you heard from anyone at your home?”

  “Not yet. Grackle flew over my village and brought back a report. Although his ability to communica
te is limited to a series of whistles, he was able to tell of great destruction. There are some survivors, but his language has no numbers beyond the thumping of his tail. After several thumps, I told him to stop. My knowledge of the number wasn’t important enough to tire him out.”

  Matt’s fingers tingled. Healing energy flowed. The crack in the rib was finally sealing. “It sounds like this really was the worst eruption ever.”

  “Without a doubt. This is the first time Elijah has literally exploded. Lava from eruptions flows away from our villages, but we could not avoid the storm of boulders. We are blessed that Valiant was wise enough to predict the catastrophe.”

  “That’s for sure.” Matt gave Eagle another glance. His proud smile proved that respect for his father abounded. He seemed content to stay silent while Listener did most of the talking, perhaps a sign of respect. Maybe she really was older than she looked.

  Matt slowly withdrew his fingers, sealing the puncture wound along the way. “Could there be a cause other than someone falling in?”

  “There were other signs.” Listener pointed a finger upward and twirled it in place. “Just before Elijah exploded, we saw a circle of fire around the top, like a wall of flames spinning and spinning. It reminded me of Abraham’s wall, though his didn’t spin, but I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about that portion of our history.”

  “A spinning wall of fire,” Matt whispered.

  “And just before that, bright flashes of light shot into the sky.” She lifted her sword. “I have seen Excalibur summon a similar light, and I have read about laser beams on Earth. The light shooting from Mount Elijah made me think of them.”

  Matt stared at her egg again. A pair of eyelike slits appeared, blinking at her. “Back on Earth,” he said, “I was involved in a battle at a prison, and we had spinning fire and laser beams. They must have appeared here in your world when the portal opened. Maybe all that energy …” He let his words trail away. Could it be? Did the energy that opened the portal actually cause the explosion? Of course, the superstition about people falling into the volcano was nonsense, but a huge concentration of energy might make anything blow its top.

  He turned toward the cave opening. Back on the river’s beach, Semiramis sat in a slouch under Grackle’s watchful eye. Maybe Semiramis was right. Arramos did hatch a scheme to destroy Second Eden, though not with an invasion. He brought Sapphira to Earth so she could unwittingly send the energy from the lasers and her own firestorm into the volcano. The scheme was brilliant, a master stroke. Even Semiramis didn’t know the depths of his diabolical plan. And could there yet be more disaster in store?

  For the next few minutes, Matt continued massaging the dragon’s wound while telling Listener and Eagle the prison-escape story, including the disappearance of the laser weapons and Portia as well as the zapping of Sir Barlow. As they and the children listened in silence, their eyes blinked or widened with the story’s ups and downs, and their eggs flickered in kind. Sometimes the children whispered to their eggs, as if responding to the flashes within. Although bizarre, the communication seemed normal to them.

  When he finished, he ran his fingers along the dragon’s newly sealed wound. “So I think Portia might have transported here before I did, and maybe Sir Barlow as well, but if the laser weapons were right over the volcano’s mouth, they might have dropped in.”

  Listener nodded. “And there would be no way to find them, unless there was, you might say, a back door in the portal.”

  He wiped his bloody hand on his shirt. “What do you mean?”

  “At one time, Mount Elijah’s throat was a portal that led to a chamber that we called—”

  Her orb flashed several times, first red, then blue.

  Listener firmed her lips. “You’re right. I have said too much. We will have to pray for the best.”

  The young girl piped up. “Will Albatross be all right?”

  “I think so.” Matt again ran a finger along the seal. “See? He’s not bleeding, and once his blood supply replenishes and he rests for a while, he’ll probably wake up.”

  The girl clapped her hands. “Good! You are a dragon doctor!”

  The other children buzzed with excitement, their eggs flashing in time with their gleeful bouncing.

  “It seems that the young ones believe in you.” Listener rose to her feet and backed away, her sword again pointing at Matt. Light from the cave opening shone on her slender form. “Come. We will now deal with you and your traveling cohort.”

  Matt cocked his head. “But the wound is closed. You can see that for yourself.”

  “The hole is gone, yes, but Albatross is not yet healed.”

  “Then how do you think the wound sealed? Glue?” He showed her his blood-stained fingers. “I did it with these.”

  “Listener,” Eagle said, still kneeling next to Matt, “maybe we should consider—”

  “Neither of you knows Semiramis the way I do.” Listener’s face remained calm, no hint of anger or joy as she addressed Matt. “I read about witchery in many forms. I will grant that you might be ignorant of that wicked sorceress’s history, but since you traveled here with her, I have to stay vigilant. She is too dangerous to keep in our company, but as for Matt Bannister, I will keep my options open.” She gestured with the sword toward the opening. “Go. I will follow. Eagle, kindly stay here and see to the needs of the children and Albatross.”

  Eagle nodded, his expression apologetic as he looked at Matt. “I will.”

  Rising, Matt rolled his eyes. “If you say so.” As he passed, he scanned her from top to bottom. Her shoulder-length pigtails made her look like a preteen, but her hardened face and steely eyes told a different story, one that agreed with the toned muscles in the forearm that gripped the sword. Her shirt and pants, cut to fit close to her narrow frame, appeared to be made of some kind of soft leather, though it was probably nearly as tough as she was.

  When they walked through the wall of spray and emerged into the light, Listener strode past him and marched straight ahead, her sword pointing at Semiramis. “Now that Albatross appears to be healing, it’s time to deal with this evil—” She halted, blinking as she cocked her head. “I hear something.”

  Matt joined her and listened. The splashing noises drowned out any competing sounds. “What is it?”

  “A melody.” Her voice took on a mysterious tone. “A song that begs for words.”

  “Where is it coming from?”

  Listener stepped into the shallows and looked at the top of the falls. Water and an occasional log gushed over the ledge, flew through the air, and tumbled to the splash point.

  Matt winced. With every thump and crack of a splintering log, he pictured himself smacking into the stone landing. The cost of claw wounds didn’t seem so high anymore.

  “It’s getting closer.” Listener spun toward Grackle and pointed with the sword. “Fly!”

  Grackle flung out his wings and leaped into the air. Whistling as he rose, he shot out a burst of white breath and ice pellets that drizzled into the river. When he reached the top of the falls, he flew in tight circles just beyond the hurtling water and logs. Every few seconds, he let out a high-pitched whistle that barely pierced the wall of noise.

  “A boat is coming?” Listener took another step into the river. “Do you see a passenger?”

  Grackle wagged his head and angled into another orbit.

  “Be ready to catch someone anyway!”

  Grackle extended his rear legs and made quick sweeps in front of the ledge, as if practicing a catching maneuver.

  Listener turned to Matt. “He sees a boat that appears to be empty, but since I hear a song, someone must be inside.”

  “Hiding?”

  “Maybe.” She gave his shirt a tug. “Let’s get closer.”

  “Should we get Eagle’s help?”

  “No time. Hurry!” After sheathing her sword, Listener marched into the river and waded toward the spla
sh point, a large flat stone at the waterfall’s base. As Matt followed, the thunder of crashing water heightened, and warm spray grew thick. They climbed onto the edge of the stone just out of reach of the pounding water. The warm spray arced over their heads, veiling their view of the top of the falls.

  Listener grabbed the spyglass from its harness, expanded its frame, and aimed it at the watery surge above. As she looked through the lens, her orb pushed into her hair and settled out of sight.

  Matt strained to see through the spray. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to position myself. Grackle is not skilled with his claws. I was surprised that he caught you. You’re lucky he snagged your shoulders instead of your face.”

  “If he misses, what can we do? We can’t catch someone falling that fast.”

  “We can try to cushion her fall.”

  “Her?”

  She snapped the spyglass back to her belt and set her arms in a cradle. “I know a woman when I see one.”

  “But the boat is out of range.” Matt faced Listener and copied her pose. “How can you see her?”

  “I told you the spyglass has unusual abilities.” She blinked away the mist. “It should be any second now.”

  Matt looked up. Water flowed in spurts, sometimes with a log or two in the flow. Soon, a rowboat eased over the falls and sailed downward. As it flipped, a woman toppled out and fell, slowed by what appeared to be an open parasail.

  In a flurry of wings, Grackle clawed at her, but a rush of air caught the sail and jerked the woman out of his reach. She dropped in sporadic plunges and wild angles, like a leaf in a rainstorm.

  Matt shifted to a likely landing spot. Listener did the same and locked wrists with him. Finally, the woman dropped into their arms. Her momentum collapsed the cradle and sent all three into the river.

  Pressing his feet against the riverbed, Matt stood in chest-deep water, looking for the woman in the flow. Listener rose to a standing position next to him, her clothes and hair dripping. “She’s close! Right near our feet. I can hear her song.”