by Bryan Davis
Mardon scowled again. “Can’t you see? I’m a madman playing with an imaginary rope.” He released the rope with one hand, grabbed the companion out of the air, and stuffed it back into his pocket. “But I suggest that you leave. The authorities are more likely to be sympathetic toward an empty-handed madman like me than toward a Bible-movie reject holding a gun.”
Enoch looked down. With sandals on his otherwise bare feet, he didn’t quite fit in with the modern crowd, especially in cold weather. When he looked up again, a police car’s flashing lights came into view well down the highway. He slid the gun under a car and strode toward the rear of the motel. As he turned the corner, he glanced back. A woman dressed in red appeared in the streetlamp’s glow.
He whispered her name. “Semiramis?”
Just as the police car roared into the parking lot, Semiramis raised her arms and threw something down to the pavement. An explosion of sparks and smoke enveloped her and Mardon, and when the breeze cleared the area, they were gone.
Enoch turned and hustled around the building and into the woods. The presence of Semiramis meant trouble and plenty of it. If she had conjured some kind of magic rope, who could tell how she and Mardon might be using it?
He found his portal, a shining aura, shaped like an oval and standing upright. As he stepped into its radiant embrace, he took a deep breath. Maybe Bonnie wasn’t as safe as he had thought. It was time to journey to Montana and make sure she entered the mines without interference.
Walter shuffled to the precipice and looked over the edge. The face of the cliff below plunged straight down, a sheer drop as far as the eye could see. The cliff on the opposite side, maybe half a mile away, did the same. The two walls seemed to join at the bottom of the deep chasm, an illusion created by a glimpse at apparently infinite lines.
The view seemed to waver, then swing back and forth. He pressed the toes of his shoes against the ground to keep his balance. The chasm was so deep … so amazingly deep. Something drew his attention, movement so far down it was almost imperceptible. He leaned over, reaching. Something drew him closer, something—
A strong hand yanked on his shirt. “Walter!”
He stumbled backward but kept his balance. With a quick spin he found the source of the pull. “Ashley?”
“It looked like you were about to fall in,” she said. “Something must have been messing with your mind.”
A sudden surge of wetness covered his body—cold sweat. He swiped his sleeve across his forehead. “Yeah. It was weird. Thanks.”
Ashley tugged on a rope tied at the top of an upright metal pole anchored at the edge of the chasm. “Seems strong.”
Walter pulled a rope hanging parallel to Ashley’s. The two lines ran across the long gap, making up the top supports of a suspension bridge that spanned the chasm.
He knelt and pressed his hand on the first of hundreds of narrow planks that tied a lower pair of parallel ropes together. It moved downward an inch or so but held fast. Reaching out farther, he pushed down on the second plank. A crack in the center broke open. The heel of his hand punched through, but he jerked back before he lost his balance.
Straightening his body, he looked up at Ashley. “Not a good idea.”
They looked out over the chasm. A strong wind beat against the bridge, whipping the lowest part of the arc into a galloping swing.
“Definitely not a good idea.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But what do we do about Glewlwyd’s warning? We can’t ignore it.”
Walter rose to his feet and looked up at the pale blue sky. Thigocia soared high above. She seemed to be about a third of the way across the chasm, yet flying toward them and descending rather than attempting to cross as she had said she would. Abigail rode high on Thigocia’s neck, her body straight and her shoulders back. She seemed to be having the time of her life.
He scanned the edges of the precipice in each direction. To the left, the elevation rose to three times his height. Pointed towers of stone blocked his view of what lay beyond. To the right, the ground ascended even higher with massive boulders strewn around in haphazard fashion.
As Thigocia’s winged shadow passed over their bodies, Walter spied something at the edge of a boulder, something red. He hissed at Ashley. “Someone’s here.”
Ashley pivoted toward his line of sight. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “I didn’t sense any thoughts but yours.”
He took several steps to his right, hoping to improve his angle. The red figure appeared again but quickly jerked out of sight.
“Who’s there?” Walter shouted.
A trembling feminine voice called out. “It is I, Semiramis.”
“Why are you stalking us?”
A pretty young woman, maybe twenty years old, peeked out from the side of the boulder. She pulled back a red hood, allowing silky brown tresses to fall over her shoulders. “I am not stalking. I want to speak to you, but I fear the approaching dragon.”
Walter looked up. Thigocia seemed to be making a final sweep across the chasm as she closed in. “The dragon won’t hurt you,” he said. “She’s a friend of ours.”
Lowering her head as if dodging raindrops, Semiramis scooted toward them. Her cloak’s red cape swept the air behind her, revealing a matching velvet dress that draped her legs almost to her bare feet. When she came within a few paces, she stopped and laid a palm on her chest. With sleeves covering most of her narrow hand, she patted herself as though she were calming her heart. “I was so frightened. I have heard of dragons, but I have never seen one in these lands.”
Walter squinted at her. “Do you live here?”
A smile spread across her lovely face, allowing shallow dimples to form in her cheeks. “Oh, yes. This is my home. I am the guardian of Zeno’s Chasm.”
Ashley set a hand on her hip. Walter didn’t have to read her mind to interpret her skeptical posture. Since she couldn’t pierce this lady’s thoughts, she probably concluded that Semiramis meant trouble.
“Guard the chasm?” Walter asked. “Are you afraid someone will steal it?”
Semiramis’s lips curled upward. “I perceive a jest, my lord, for no one could ever steal such a chasm. I am here to ensure that no one tries to navigate the bridge. It is far too dangerous.”
“I can believe that.” Ashley moved her arms back over her chest. “Why don’t you just cut the ropes and be done with it?”
“I have tried to destroy the bridge in many ways, but no blade is sharp enough to slice those ropes, no hands are strong enough to uproot the support poles, and no pick is hard enough to break the bedrock that holds them in place. All I can do is warn travelers not to cross. Many have ignored my call and have fallen into the chasm.”
“What’s at the bottom?” Walter asked.
Her head tipped downward, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “Lucifer’s Lair.”
Ashley scrunched her eyebrows. “Lucifer? As in the devil?”
“No, my lady. We in the Bridgelands have named the land below Lucifer’s Lair, because it is governed by a cruel king who wantonly murders all who oppose him. If you were to fall into the chasm, you would transport into his kingdom. His loyal subjects would enslave you, and any covert rebels would never trust you. There would be no place for you to hide.”
A rush of wind beat down from above, throwing Semiramis off balance. Walter caught her by the hand and pulled her upright. “It’s just the dragon’s wings,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”
Seconds later, Thigocia landed in a galloping slide on a nearby patch of grass, her ears twitching as she came to a stop.
“Thank you, my lord.” Semiramis eased away from Walter’s grasp. “I am not worthy to be rescued by you. It is I who must serve you.”
Walter’s fingers tingled. Her touch had sent a mild electrostatic charge of some kind into his body.
Abigail dismounted. As she and Thigocia approached, Walter reached for Semiramis again. “Don’t be scared. Her name is Thigocia.”
&
nbsp; She dodged his touch and bowed. “Greetings, great dragon. I am Semiramis, guardian of this chasm. I trust that you have come with good news about an alternative crossing.”
“I tried to fly to the other side,” Thigocia said, “but after I reached the halfway point, I seemed unable to get any closer. I detected no headwinds, so the mystery remains. I decided to search for another route, but the chasm remained deep as far as I could see.”
Semiramis touched her chin with her finger. “How strange!” she said, her lips pursing into a comely pucker. “I know of an easy passage, and I hoped to lead you there.”
Ashley rolled her eyes but said nothing. Again, Walter knew that look. She didn’t trust Semiramis, not in the least.
“My human friends have been charged by Glewlwyd to use the bridge,” Thigocia said. “I assume that I must find another way.”
Semiramis nodded slowly. “Glewlwyd is wise, to be sure, but have you asked yourself why he stays on this side of the chasm? He fears the bridge, and he distrusts me. Such lack of faith will keep him here forever.”
“Elam crossed,” Ashley said with a huff. “We saw him through a portal. He was at Heaven’s Altar.”
“Ah! The son of Shem! I remember him well, for he is the only one ever to cross successfully. I heard later from Glewlwyd that he had eaten from the tree of life, thus protecting him from death. If you have also eaten the fruit, then by all means use the bridge.” She covered a gentle laugh with her fingers. “I should have known that those in the company of a dragon would be unusually gifted. Forgive me for not recognizing you as ageless ones.”
Ashley clutched her stomach and pulled Walter’s sleeve. As he drew close she whispered, “I sense something.”
He replied in a low tone. “Are you sick?”
“No. Just an excuse to talk to you privately.”
“Do you sense something dangerous?” Walter kept an eye on Semiramis. With her head tilted to one side, she seemed perplexed but not annoyed.
“Other minds … getting closer. One thinks clearly. The others are dense and stupid.”
“Any idea who they are?”
“I see images. The intelligent one is thinking about Mardon.”
“The Nephilim?”
She nodded. “We’d better cross right away. I don’t want them around while we’re on the bridge.”
“Good thinking.” He looked again at Semiramis. “Shouldn’t we warn her about the Nephilim?”
“No. Just trust me.”
As Walter stepped back, he nodded at Semiramis. “We have to get going. I think something in the air is bothering Ashley.” He added in his mind, Thoughts of stupid giants are in the air.
Abigail untwisted a cap on a water bottle and handed it to Ashley. “Are you sure you’re well enough to cross?”
Ashley took a sip and extended the bottle. As Abigail grasped it, Ashley drew it back, forcing Abigail to step closer. “Play along,” she said, barely moving her lips.
Abigail took the bottle and hustled back to Thigocia, obviously whispering something to her as she put the bottle in the backpack tied to one of her spines.
Ashley pulled Walter. She staggered slightly as she approached the bridge. “Gotta go,” Walter said. “Nice chatting with you.”
“Travelers!” Semiramis called, raising a hand. “Please hear me. The bridge is fraught with danger. Even youthful, vigorous Elam crossed with extraordinary effort. In this young lady’s condition, you will never make it. Please, just stay with me a little while until she has recovered.”
“Thanks all the same.” Walter steadied Ashley at the edge of the chasm, then let go and stepped onto the first plank. Grasping the side ropes, he shifted his weight forward. He kept his focus on the opposite side, trying not to think of the miles of empty space below, and stretched his leg over the broken plank. He shouted to compete with the cross breeze. “If it’ll hold me, it’ll hold you two, so just watch where I step.”
“And the dragon?” Semiramis asked, raising her voice as well. “How will she cross?”
Walter glanced back, twisting while holding tightly. He had no clue how to answer.
Thigocia stretched out her wings. “I will fly in an orbit over their heads. At the very least, I can protect them along the way. If they can make it, perhaps I can.”
“Very well.” Semiramis bowed her head. “Good journey to you. I will climb one of the higher ridges to watch and pray for your progress.” With a wide twirl of her cape, she turned and strode away. Within seconds she disappeared behind the boulder.
Standing on the first plank, Ashley touched Walter’s back. “Better hurry. They’re getting closer, and the smart one wants to kill.”
Chapter 6
A Voice Within
Angel unfastened Paili’s belt, then leaped from her seat and landed in the grassy meadow with a soft thump. Candle and Listener clambered down Grackle’s outstretched neck and hustled to her side, Candle holding up the bag of bones with both hands. “Shall I take these to Father Abraham’s hut or keep them for our mantle?”
Angel touched the bag but paused. It would be wonderful to keep just one bone, maybe a little finger as a way to remember Timothy. Would it be so bad to put everything else in the garden and save one—
A flash of light caught her eye. Her companion floated around to the front of her face, a red flash strobing in its egg-shaped crystal. The eyes blinked at her, and its words melded with her thoughts. Did the Oracle give you permission to keep a bone?
Angel shook her head. But she did not say I was not allowed to keep one.
If you really believe she did not intend for every bone to be included in her command … The companion’s light dimmed. Then so be it.
Nudging the companion with her finger, Angel spoke out loud. “Your message is clear, but must the scattering in the garden be carried out during night watch hours?”
“Mother?” Candle held up the bag again. “The bones?”
She waited a moment to see if the companion would reply, but it hovered quietly for a second, then floated down and sat on her shoulder. Finally, she nodded at Candle. “Leave the bag with me. Make sure Paili gets down safely, and take care of the dragons.”
While Listener crawled under Grackle’s belly to unfasten the seat harness, Candle helped Paili climb down Albatross’s neck. “Did you enjoy your ride?” he asked.
Paili, wearing a long-sleeved white dress and thick leggings, rubbed her arms. “I lost my cloak, but it was fun.”
Angel picked up the bag and peered down a wide path through the forest that opened into the moonlit village. A young woman walked around one of the huts, stopping for a moment to look at the dragon landing area where Angel stood. She waved and then continued her stroll, followed soon thereafter by a young man.
Smiling, Angel shook her head. Emerald would never accept this suitor. She was very selective, and he was far too young. Yet, could a widow afford to be so picky? Most thought not, but Angel knew better. Emerald’s good Adam fell in battle shortly after her own did, and now she and Emerald remained the only two widows in Abraham’s flock who had not taken a new Adam. Was it wrong to believe that no man could live up to the memories of their departed loves? Probably not. Such thinking didn’t cause her to doubt the goodness of any man. It was just that none could ever be as good as Dragon. He was the best of the best.
“Acacia told us to spread the bones over the birthing garden,” Paili said.
Angel shook herself out of her trance and looked down at Paili. Her furrowed little brow meant business. “Thank you for the reminder, fair visitor. I was lost in my thoughts.”
“That’s okay.” Paili turned toward the village and narrowed her eyes. “I’m supposed to say something after the bones are spread out, but now that Acacia isn’t here, I’m not sure what to do. Maybe I should wait for her.”
“The Prophet, that is, Father Abraham, taught us that delayed obedience is disobedience. If you know what you are to say, then I see no reason to w
ait.” Angel tightened her grip on the bag of bones and took Paili’s hand. “Come with me.”
Paili stroked Angel’s smallest finger. “That’s a pretty ring. What kind of gem is it?”
“This?” Angel lifted her hand and pulled off the ring. “I call it a changing stone.” She held it close to Paili’s eyes. “See? It’s red now. It was white before.” She put it in Paili’s hand. “You may borrow it, but please take good care of it. I would like it back.”
Paili slid it over her index finger. The second it passed her knuckle, the gem turned white again. “Where did you get it?”
“I was born with it on my thumb. No one knows why.” She took Paili’s hand again. “Let’s go.” As they hurried toward the village, Angel called behind her. “Candle! Listener! Finish caring for the dragons and meet me in the garden.”
After reaching the village, Angel and Paili strode quietly down the deserted street, a stone path wide enough for five people walking side by side. Illuminated by lanterns hanging from poles at twenty-foot intervals, there was no concern about stumbling over one of the potted plants that lined the street.
Angel glanced at the modest huts on each side, some built with stones, others with clay bricks. Although this wasn’t her village, many of these homes were familiar, places her parents visited many times when she was Paili’s age. Even as a young adult of one hundred thirty-three, she still called on her childhood friends occasionally. But now wasn’t a good time for socializing. She had to hurry through the streets unseen and—
“Angel?”
She halted and spun around. “Emerald?”
A slender form emerged from the shadows, tiptoeing into the lantern’s light, her green eyes shining. “Cliffside is arranging a betrothal meeting with my father.”
“Oh?” Angel said. “Is that good news or bad news?”
“Bad news.” Emerald glanced behind her, then lowered her voice. “I do not know what to tell Cliffside.”
Angel looked down at Paili and pointed at a lantern a few paces away. “Please wait under the light.”
Taking Emerald’s arm, Angel led her into the shadows near the edge of the street, whispering. “What’s so difficult? Just tell him you don’t wish to be betrothed to him. Or let your father tell him.”
