From the Mouth of Elijah

by Bryan Davis

  “I didn’t expect to see anyone. I thought I was done for.” Matt smiled, but he couldn’t keep his lips from trembling. “How did you get away from Tamiel?”

  “Well, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you more when I get my strength back.”

  “Yeah, you took quite a spill from the boat. If not for your wings slowing you down, we couldn’t have caught you.”

  Her eyes darted. “I had a gun. Did you find it?”

  “It’s in my pocket. We thought it was draining your energy.”

  “It was, but I’m immune here.” Her words spilled out as if she were in a dreamlike daze. “As long as the energy stays in the gun, I don’t lose any, but when I inject my energy into people who need it, I will be drained.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt waved a hand in front of her face. “You look kind of out of it.”

  “I feel out of it.” After shaking her head, her eyes sharpened. “I was about to say I charged the gun before coming to Second Eden, and I think the pain it caused knocked me out. I feel better, at least for now.”

  Matt withdrew the gun from his pocket. “Why would you want to drain your own energy?”

  “If I shoot someone with it, that person receives the energy.” She propped herself on her elbows. “I was told to come here to help people with it.”

  “Well, a volcano exploded, and we need to look for survivors, but you can’t help, not in your condition.”

  “Since the gun infuses energy,” Listener said, “maybe you could shoot it into your mother and help her recover.”

  Mom shook her head. “I put my energy in that gun myself. It needs to go to those who need it.”

  “You need your own energy.” Matt slid his finger in front of the gun’s trigger. “I’ll shoot it back into you, and you can rest here while Albatross and I look for survivors.”

  “No. Only I can use it. It’s genetically locked.” Mom extended a hand. “Help me up.”

  “You don’t have the strength,” Matt said. “As soon as you’re able, we can—”

  “This is not the time to disobey your mother.” She shook a finger, but a poorly hidden smile gave away her mirth.

  “All right. All right.” Matt grasped her wrist, hoisted her to her feet, and slipped the gun into her hand.

  After wobbling for a moment, she steadied herself. Then, her eyes shot open. “Who is that?”

  Matt turned. Eagle walked toward them slowly, his gaze upward as he watched the dragons fly. “Don’t worry, Mom. He’s a friend.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He looks so familiar. I think I know him.”

  “How could that be?” Listener asked, now standing next to her. “Eagle has never been to your world.”

  “And I haven’t been to yours ever since …” A smile broke out on Mom’s face, and tears pooled in her eyes. “Never mind. I understand now, but I think I shouldn’t say anything more about it.”

  Albatross landed in a run, his wings settling as he drew near. Blowing an excited whistle, he nuzzled Listener’s cheek with his own.

  “Well,” she said, patting his neck, “it seems that our healer’s works have matched his words.”

  As Mom stepped closer to Albatross, her own wings flapped slowly. “I trust that this valiant steed can carry Matt and me to the village so I can begin my work.”

  Albatross whistled a sharp note and lowered his head to the ground.

  “He is glad to.” Listener drew back and looked the dragon over. “But I am still concerned about his health. Only moments ago he lay dying.”

  Eagle joined them, his smile gleaming as he extended his hand. “You must be Matt’s mother. My name is Eagle.”

  As Mom took his hand, tears trickled down her cheeks. “I’m Bonnie Bannister.” Her voice quivered. “Your eyes. They’re so bright and sparkling.”

  Drawing his hand back, Eagle laughed. “They say I have eyes like an eagle.”

  Matt tried to read his mother’s expression. There seemed to be much more to this encounter than a friendly greeting. “Anyway …” Matt rubbed his hands together. “It looks like Albatross thinks he’s healthy enough. He knows how he feels.” He grinned at Listener. “I assume your analytical brain has already told you that.”

  Listener returned the smile and bowed her head. “I surrender to your superior argument.”

  Matt helped his mother climb Albatross’s neck. He seemed strong and steady.

  “I recommend that you stay low,” Listener said, “not only to avoid the smoke at higher levels but also to avoid a fatal plunge should Albatross falter.” She pointed downstream with her sword. “Once you are in the marshes, you can travel near the river’s edge. The lava flowed heavily in that region, but I doubt that it made it all the way to the river. Even if you have to walk, you should be safe.”

  “What about you two?” Matt nodded at Listener and Eagle in turn. “Are you coming?”

  Eagle stepped forward. “Yes, of course.” His brow raised, he gave Listener a hopeful look. “I assume you agree.”

  “I do.” Listener pointed at the ground with her sword. “We will follow on foot with the children. There are still a few shadow people in this valley who could overtake them if we were not here. With evening approaching, we need to be careful. The shadow people will come out of hiding as soon as it’s dark.”

  “Evening?” Matt looked at the sun, closer to the horizon than before. “I must have slept longer than I thought.”

  “Also,” Listener continued, “with Semiramis lurking, we’ll need to watch for her.”

  “Semiramis is here?” Mom asked.

  “She’s somewhere nearby.” Matt quickly told the story, from the slingshot ride into Second Eden to Listener’s dismissal of the sorceress. She listened intently, neither commenting nor questioning.

  When he finished, Mom gazed toward the forest on the opposite side of the river. “Sending her away was a wise decision. She can’t be trusted.”

  Matt turned toward Listener. “If there’s an exit waterfall in the way, how will you and Eagle and the children get out of the valley? You can’t all fly on the other dragon.”

  Listener stared downstream. “When we reach the waterfall, Grackle can take us down to the swamp level one at a time, and we can walk from there. I have flown over this region hundreds of times, and Eagle is an expert tracker. We will have no trouble finding our way, but if you have no more need of Albatross when you arrive, you can send him back to help us.”

  “That should work.” Matt climbed onto Albatross’s back and settled in behind his mother. As he sat on the white scales, a sensation of warmth radiated into his wet skin and clothes.

  Albatross let out two warbling whistles.

  “He wants to know if that’s warm enough,” Listener called from the ground. “He’ll adjust it if necessary.”

  Matt smiled. A dragon with a thermostat. Now that was a trait you couldn’t find in storybooks. “It feels great. I don’t get cold easily. I can regulate my temperature, just like …” He whispered the rest. “Just like Albatross.”

  “If you see the flying hospital,” Listener said, “signal the pilot to follow you. He might be waiting for someone to let him know it’s safe to land.”

  “Got it.” Matt set his hands on his mother’s hips. Her wings, now folded in, kept him from getting close enough to wrap his arms around her waist. “Mom, I’ll tell you what I know about the hospital on the way.”

  A child shouted from the cave. “Eagle!”

  Everyone looked that way. A boy no more than seven years old staggered through the waterfall’s spray, his expression frantic as he wobbled toward them. Eagle sprinted to the boy, scooped him up, and returned with him, setting him down when he arrived. “What’s wrong, Blade?”

  “Cheer …” Blade clutched Eagle’s arm. “Cheer is gone. A woman came and blew some smoke at us. It made me dizzy. When I could finally see straight, the others were asleep, but Cheer was
gone.”

  “Semiramis!” Listener drew her sword, her face flushed. “When I find her, I’ll—”

  “No!” Eagle grabbed her wrist. “Let me find Cheer. I’m the better tracker, and with Semiramis and the shadow people lurking, we need to get the other children out of this valley.”

  Listener shoved her sword back to its sheath, growling. “If she so much as leaves a bruise on Cheer, I will scalp her viperous head and use her hair as a foot wipe.”

  “Don’t worry.” Eagle’s tone firmed. “I will find them both.”

  Listener’s companion again flashed in front of her eyes, but she turned away. “I know, I know. Control my temper.” After grumbling for a few seconds, she hugged Eagle and kissed his cheek. “I trust that you will find Cheer. Just take care. Semiramis is far more cunning than anyone you have ever dealt with.”

  “I will be careful.” Eagle returned the kiss. “Let’s send our friends on their way, and we can discuss our plans further. We have other options.”

  “Very well.” Listener patted Albatross’s neck. “Take Bonnie and Matt to Founder’s Village. It might not look like it used to, so be ready to find it by sense of smell. When you’re sure they no longer need you, come back to help me carry the children.”

  Albatross whistled a short trill. With a strong beat of his wings, he jumped into the air. Matt clutched his mother’s shirt and held on. “You okay?” he shouted.

  “Fine. Save your breath. The air’s bound to get smoky.”

  Matt ached to continue the conversation. Obviously she knew something about Eagle, and she had to be worried about Cheer. Not only that, she never finished telling her story. How had she escaped from Tamiel? Why was she here? Was there more reason for the gun beyond what she explained? If so, why would Tamiel allow her to have it?

  Trying to push away the questions, he scanned the sky. To the rear, Mount Elijah, now framed by hazy streaks from the setting sun, still spewed smoke and ash. In front, the river meandered gently toward a waterfall that spilled into an area covered by thicker haze.

  Matt blinked at the smoky air. He had lost his jacket and outer shirt, so no breathing filters were available. Maybe the smoke wouldn’t get too thick.

  Mom lowered her head and let her body undulate with Albatross’s. Although her facial expression stayed hidden, her body language spoke volumes. She was no ordinary mother. She was an experienced warrior.

  Not long ago he imagined her as a pathetic crackhead, a teenager so desperate she left her baby at a church doorstep. But now? Now he had a mother without equal. She was a woman who had stared down the devil himself. And she was on a mission.

  As Albatross flew past the waterfall, Matt set his jaw. He had to make her proud, and most of all, he had to make sure she returned safely to Dad. Nothing was more important.

  Chapter 6

  THE DOOR TO HADES

  The rental pickup truck bumped and lurched across the plateau. Lauren hung on to the passenger-side handgrip and leaned forward, hoping to get an early glimpse of a promised crater, but the bounces kept knocking her back.

  Dad drove with both hands on the wheel, his brow bent and his lips pressed tightly. Something was bothering him more than bumps and bounces. Obviously Mom’s kidnapping weighed foremost on his mind, but something else had cast a shadow over his expression.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but addressing him aloud with a familial label still felt strange. She took a breath and forced it out. “Dad?”

  He turned and gave her a smile. “Yes?”

  “Do you sense danger?”

  Looking straight ahead again, he nodded. “It’s not much, but we have to keep our eyes open. It might just be a bear or a cougar. I can take care of that.”

  Lauren glanced at the glove compartment. Dad had put a handgun and holster in there when they left the regional airport. The thought of using it magnified their journey’s danger. Still, he might have meant that he could use his fire-breathing instead of the gun. Either way, he had said this was a life-or-death mission, probably more dangerous than anything she had ever done. He wasn’t talking about the local wildlife.

  As her heart raced, Lauren hid a swallow. After getting kidnapped by a winged demon and barely surviving a nightmare jailbreak that included nearly burning in lava, how could she face something even more dangerous?

  She closed her eyes. Maybe it would be better to concentrate on the goal—to find her mother by listening to her song, the song of the ovulum. And maybe they could find Matt, though that seemed impossible. If he didn’t fall into the volcano, he probably flew into a faraway land no one knew.

  Tears seeped past her closed eyelids. Matt, why did you cut the rope? Why didn’t you let me try to pull you in? Yet, the answer was clear. If he hadn’t cut the rope, they all probably would have died in the lava.

  After a few minutes, the truck stopped and the emergency brake engaged with a quick series of clicks. “This is as close as we can get,” Dad said. “It looks like the edges of the crater have eroded since the last time I was here.”

  Lauren opened her eyes. They had stopped on a downward slope that plunged into nothingness about twenty paces ahead. Dad pulled the holster from the glove compartment, strapped it around his chest and shoulder, and stepped out on the driver’s side. “Let’s get a look at the crater.”

  She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door on her side, and pressed a foot down carefully. The ground seemed stable. If a truck could park here without a collapse, walking around shouldn’t be a problem.

  A stiff, cold breeze gusted toward the edge of the crater. Lauren grabbed her prison-loaned parka from the back and put it on over her hooded sweatshirt as she stepped out fully. Dad didn’t bother with getting his coat, though he shivered as he extended a hand. “Ready?”

  She took his hand and walked stiff-legged toward the precipice. “Matt never gets cold. Do you have that trait?”

  “I’m freezing. I just didn’t see the point in bundling up when we have to sling on our backpacks in a minute. A parka will just get in the way.” Dad gave her an apologetic nod. “I should have mentioned that.”

  When they neared the edge, he stopped and pressed the ground with his boot. A crack appeared near the toe. “Don’t get any closer. It’s brittle.”

  She clutched his hand more tightly, leaned forward, and looked into the depths. A flat floor lay far below, probably thousands of feet down. The height made her legs tremble, though no tingles coursed along her back. She would have to count on her natural hearing to listen for Mom’s call.

  After a few seconds, a melody drifted upward, the familiar song of the ovulum, though it sounded stretched out and thin, as if pinched by something. “This is the place,” she whispered. “I hear my mother.”

  “That’s great!” Dad stepped back and drew her into an embrace. “We’ll find her soon. Just keep listening.”

  When they pulled apart, she bundled her coat closer. “Now that the truck engine’s off, the song’s not hard to follow.”

  “We’ll have another engine here in a few minutes.” He withdrew a phone from his pocket and pressed a speed dial. “When I was here years ago, the phone service was terrible, but we’re using a satellite connection now.”

  After a few seconds, he looked at a GPS watch on his wrist and shouted into the phone. “Yeah, Dad. You’ll have to speak up. Your blades are really loud. … We’re here. The song’s coming from the crater, just like I guessed. Do you see my GPS signal? … Yeah, the tracking chip wasn’t hard to imbed. It’s almost undetectable. … Good. I’ll text you the coordinates, just in case. … How are you feeling? … That bad, huh? Walter should have dragged Mardon back to the prison by now. He promised to give us information about the disease. … Yeah, we left Merlin at the airport, hangar six. They had a four-wheel-drive pickup to rent, and it has a good-sized cab for our gear. … Right. See you soon.”

  He pressed the end button and began texting with his thumb
s. “I’ll copy Walter on this. Once we make a portal jump, we won’t have another chance. As Walter once said, there aren’t any cell towers in Hell.”

  “Yeah. I guess not.” Lauren shuddered. Walter’s description of Hell still burned in her mind—the odor of sulfur and roasting flesh, human souls writhing in black fire, like flaming buoys bobbing in a dark sea of horror. He sounded like a sports announcer giving a play-by-play account of eternal condemnation.

  Dad snapped the phone closed. “Something wrong?”

  She nodded. “I guess I don’t like the thought of going to Hell.” She laughed inside at her own statement. It sounded like the tearful lament of an actress in one of those cheesy dramas the leaders sometimes performed at Micaela’s youth group. They often used fear of Hell to scare people into Heaven, but the script always raised more groans than tears.

  “Trust me, I’m scared, too.” He laid his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to go with me. Now I know for sure where her song’s coming from, so I can—”

  “No.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists. “We’ve been through this. I have to go. I’m scared, but not scared enough to turn around.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? I can send you back on the helicopter.”

  She looked into his hazel eyes. Love poured forth, gentle yet strong. When they made plans back at the prison, he offered to take Joran and Selah, but everyone knew he was just trying to protect his daughter from harm. Ashley and Walter needed Joran and Selah’s abilities, so that left only one Listener available. Not only that, the lyre had stopped showing Mom’s image. It wouldn’t be of any help.

  She nodded firmly. “I’m sure.”

  He kissed her forehead, then pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “I’m proud of you. You have your mother’s courage.”

  “Thank you.” She nodded at the phone in his hand. “You mentioned a tracking chip. Is it in the phone?”