by Bryan Davis
He looked out the window again. Now that they were about to pass directly over the birthing garden, it was time to go for it. The portal was probably directly above where Roxil had transformed. “You might want to wait to eat those crackers. We’re going to climb like crazy now.”
“Good thought,” Walter said in a garbled voice. He swallowed his mouthful and tightened his seat belt. “Let her rip!”
Billy guided Merlin into a climb, circling as tightly over the garden as he could. Since Ashley was already concocting a formula for fuel using the oil deposits in the area, they didn’t have to worry about running out. And they had plenty of time, so it made no sense to try for a dangerously steep incline. It was better just to take it easy.
“Twelve thousand feet?” Walter asked as he peered at the altimeter. “What does it max out at?”
“Supposedly about forty-five thousand, but I couldn’t get past thirty-five when I tried to fly over the fire. The air pressure gradients are different here.”
They continued their ascension, both staying quiet. With each orbit, the wall of fire came into view through Billy’s window, rippling bright orange and towering out of sight. He studied each wave in the wall. What might Abraham’s counsel be? Maybe he would say this mission was pretty much a waste. Since Merlin couldn’t fly over the wall, what made anyone think it could fly high enough to find the portal? Besides, when they dropped out of the portal, they were at five thousand feet. If there was any way to get back through from the lower end, wouldn’t they have reached that point already?
Billy eased out of the climb. “Let’s go back.”
“What’s up?” Walter glanced at the meter again. “We’re not at max yet.”
“I know.” He heaved another sigh and leaned back in his seat. “You ever get the feeling that you just can’t do something, and you really can’t explain why?”
Walter tapped his head with a finger. “That little voice inside?”
“Sometimes there.” Billy pressed his fist against his chest. “And sometimes here.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean.” As Merlin began a slow descent, Walter looked out the window. “I get that feeling more and more these days, especially since I’ve been hanging around Ashley. She’s … well … I don’t know how to say it.”
Billy shifted his gaze straight ahead but kept watching him out of the corner of his eye. “Penetrating?”
“Perfect word.” Walter pulled another cracker out of his packet but just held it aloft. “I’m really too young for her, you know.”
Billy pushed Merlin into a steeper descent. “You’re definitely too young right now.” He almost added, “When we finally get out of this place you both might be too old to get married,” but he decided against it.
Now flying low, Billy peeked out the side window. In the field next to the birthing garden, Elam and Sir Barlow stood in front of sixty or so men, demonstrating sword thrusts and footwork. Obviously the troops from the other village had arrived, swelling their ranks. While a few were able to follow the moves with precision, the others seemed clumsy and uncertain. It would be a while before this army was ready for battle.
Nearby, Valiant practiced swordplay with Candle and Windor, while Mantika and Listener watched, hand in hand. With his graceful moves and precise footwork, Valiant was every bit as accomplished as Sir Barlow, while Candle, mimicking every step, thrust, and parry, had already surpassed some of the men. Valiant and Candle would soon be a formidable pair.
At the edge of the field, one man climbed aboard Clefspeare’s back. Little did this pilot recruit know that sitting atop the greatest dragon warrior of them all was a privilege that few others had enjoyed. He was in for the ride of his life.
After making a swing around the field, he headed for the dragon launching site. He let his shoulders sag. Watching the army hadn’t boosted his confidence. Although when Thigocia and Hartanna reached full strength, they would have more dragons than the enemy, the Nephilim and shadow people could easily overwhelm them with numbers. The good guys wouldn’t last long, especially if an attack came at night. And even if Abraham and Angel could keep their fire going for months, Flint might have trained an unstoppable army by that time.
If only Patrick could become Valcor again. That would help a lot. But his latest attempt, with Acacia’s fiery blue aura surrounding him, yielded only the same gentleman he had always been. Still, he didn’t seem to mind. Working in the infirmary with Ruth had brought a bounce back into his step.
As soon as they landed, Ashley opened the rear passenger door and climbed inside. “What happened?” she asked as she made her way to the front.
“We passed the portal altitude and nothing happened,” Billy said. “We’d better get used to the fact that we’re stuck here for a while. My biggest concern is getting word to my mother about what’s going on.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that.” Ashley stooped in the aisle just behind Billy and Walter and nodded toward the airplane’s dash. “I might be able to use Merlin’s transmitter in combination with the magnetic field generator and maybe send a signal to Larry. Even if I can’t send voice, maybe some bursts of text data would be enough. He can decipher almost anything.”
“How long would it take you to set that up?”
Ashley shrugged. “Impossible to know. I have no idea what kind of supplies they have here, but if they can make a magnet-driven flying hospital, they must have some techno-wizardry.”
“Maybe.” Billy looked out the front window. He could see the ripples in the protective wall even from where they sat. “But the local wizard might be going up in flames right now.”
“What about Enoch?” Walter asked. “He knows we’re here. Won’t he let our families know?”
Ashley laughed. “He might, but he’s kind of unpredictable.”
As Billy thought about the people back home, Bonnie came to mind. The last he heard, a big rock had fallen on her, and she and Shiloh seemed to be in trouble. Was she alive? How could he find out? And what about Mom? She was probably already worried sick about Dad, and she had no clue that he was now a dragon again. But what could anyone do about it? They all had to press on and be the warriors they were called to be.
“We just have to trust Enoch’s wisdom.” He set his hand in front of Ashley, his palm down. “Meanwhile, we’re in this together, no matter what.”
Ashley covered his hand with hers. “You got it. We’re a team, come dragons or ugly giants.”
“I ain’t afraid of no giants,” Walter said as he added his hand. “We’ll stick together like glue.”
Ashley withdrew her hand and wiped it on Walter’s jeans. “Or like peanut butter.”
Marilyn?”
The male voice drifted into her mind from somewhere far away, quiet, yet probing. Was it a dream? It wasn’t Larry. Not Edmund, either. Walter’s dad?
She shook herself awake, lifted her head from her folded arms, and peered into the darkness. “Carl?”
A switch clicked. Light flooded the computer room, revealing Carl and Catherine Foley walking through the doorway to the hall. Sir Edmund and Shelly entered behind them, each with steaming cups in their hands.
“We just got home,” Carl said. “It’s almost one in the morning, but I thought it would be okay to bring you some news.”
Marilyn waved them toward the scattered chairs. “Yes. Of course.”
“Shelly turned off the alarms and let us in.” He removed his wet trench coat and draped it over a chair. “Sir Newman’s been trying to call you. He finally got hold of me while we were on our way back from the airport.”
“Very strange.” Marilyn looked up at Larry’s main console. “Is our phone on the fritz?”
“I will now play back audio that includes your most recent directive.”
A cartoon megaphone appeared on the screen. Larry’s speakers crackled briefly, then Marilyn’s voice came through loud and clear. “Larry, if I fall asleep, turn off the phone, and don’t wake me
up, even if the slayer himself breaks in.”
Larry’s voice returned. “End of recording.”
“Whew! I must have been really out of it.” Marilyn rubbed her eyes, then looked up at Carl again. “What’s the news?”
“It’s nothing urgent, so let’s sit down first.” While Shelly and Edmund passed around the cups, Carl pulled four chairs into a circle with Marilyn’s. When everyone was seated, he leaned toward her. “Your research led Sir Newman to a house Palin once owned. It’s just outside of London, a small place where an elderly man lives, just him and his dog. He gave Newman permission to search the house and grounds, and with the help of a bloodhound and a metal detector, he located a buried container.” He drew a rectangle in the air. “One of those fireproof boxes.”
While he took a sip of coffee, Marilyn drummed her fingers on her thigh. Waiting for the bottom line of this story was maddening. “Go on,” she said.
“Of course, the box was locked, but it didn’t take long to force it open. Inside, Sir Newman found a single sheet of paper and a red gem.”
“A rubellite?” she asked.
“Not difficult to guess, was it?” After taking another sip, Carl nodded at Larry. “Sir Newman said he would scan the sheet of paper and email it to you. Did you get it?”
“Affirmative. I am displaying it now.”
The screen showed a pencil sketch of a sword, an exquisite rendering of hilt and blade with every detail meticulously included. In the blade’s etching, two dragons battled, and on the hilt, Palin had drawn lines radiating from a small circle as if to make the round object sparkle.
“Excalibur,” Edmund said. “A fine drawing, indeed.”
Marilyn stood and set her finger on the image. “Larry, can you zoom in on this text at the bottom?”
After a brief flash, two lines of neat block lettering filled the screen. Marilyn read them out loud. “Morgan claimed that removing the gem would take a third of Excalibur’s power away. Perhaps frustration will cause my master to stop hunting children.”
She turned slowly back to the others. “So Excalibur is crippled.”
“And supposedly,” Carl said, taking Catherine’s hand, “Walter has the sword in some kind of alternate reality.”
Marilyn took her seat and counted on her fingers. “We think Jared, Billy, Ashley, Abigail, Thigocia, Shiloh, Sir Patrick, and Sir Barlow are all over there. At least that’s what Sapphira said when she made her last call. She said something about Shiloh possibly staying with her on Earth, but she wasn’t sure.”
“Maybe I’m crazy,” Shelly said, “but if my brother needs that gem to make the sword work better, then I’m all for trying to get it to him. Since they haven’t come back, they might be in all sorts of trouble.”
“But how do we get it there?” Marilyn asked. “We don’t have a way to cross dimensional barriers. We don’t have any dragons or Oracles of Fire.”
Larry’s speakers clicked on. “May I interject an idea?”
“Of course.” Marilyn rolled back to the desk and turned up his volume knob. “Go ahead.”
The image on the console screen changed to an object that looked similar to an old-fashioned hourglass. A transparent rectangle separated the circular platforms at the top and bottom, and four dowels surrounded it at the corners, obviously supports or places to grasp it.
“This is Apollo. Although it was destroyed in the Circles of Seven, I still have the schematic, including every detail you would need to reconstruct it. If you can locate a portal gateway to Walter’s realm, I should be able to analyze the light patterns, use Apollo to create the proper flash, and send the gem through the opening. If anyone has the courage to attempt the journey, we could try to send a human.”
Carl raised his hand. “In a heartbeat. Anything to help Walter … and the others, of course.”
“How long would it take us to build Apollo?” Marilyn asked.
“Impossible to calculate, but without Ashley’s abilities, it could take several weeks or perhaps much longer.”
“Several weeks?” Marilyn clenched her eyes shut. “Even if we could build it, only Sapphira can find the right portal, and we haven’t heard from her in a while.”
“Did Sapphira say where she was going?” Carl asked.
Opening her eyes again, Marilyn shook her head. “Just that she and Gabriel had to go into hiding, somewhere the slayer would never find them.”
“Have you tried calling her back?”
“Several times.” Marilyn slid her desk phone closer and scrolled through the numbers in her caller ID list. “Want to try again?”
Carl stood and read the number on the tiny screen. “That’s Walter’s cell phone.”
“I guess she borrowed it.”
Standing, Carl fished his phone from his pocket, punched a speed dial, and held the phone to his ear. After a few seconds, his eyebrows shot up. “This is Carl Foley. Who is this?” A smile spread across his face. “Gabriel? How did you get Walter’s phone?”
He sat back down. “Yes … Uh huh … Yes, it’s okay to be out of breath. Flying must take a lot of energy. Take your time.” He looked up at Marilyn. “He’s on his way here.”
“Can he tell us where Sapphira is?” Shelly asked.
Carl raised a finger. “Good. … Yeah, you can’t do that on a commercial flight. Listen. Do you know where Sapphira is? … You do?” Carl gave everyone a thumbs-up. “Good. I’m going to jump in the car right now and head west. You find a safe, warm place to hide and call me to let me know where you are. No sense killing yourself flying at night. … Yeah. I’ll bet.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t want to fly through a swarm of hungry bats either. Talk to you soon.”
Carl closed the phone and pointed it at Catherine and Shelly in turn. “I’ll need both of you to help me drive. No sleeping stops until we find Gabriel.”
Shelly let out a whoop and shouted, “Road trip!”
“Did Gabriel offer any updates?” Catherine asked. “Does he know where everyone is and how they’re doing?”
Carl shook his head. “I’m sure we’ll get the lowdown when we find him. He did say something about a hideout being guarded by the last of the Nephilim, but he didn’t say what that meant.”
“Larry?” Marilyn’s words stretched out as she yawned. “Will you please print out the parts list for Apollo?”
“Certainly. It is quite lengthy, but it will be all you need.”
Sir Edmund rose to his feet. “Since Mrs. Bannister and I will be the only adults remaining, I will excuse myself and find a place to sleep outside.”
“No way,” Marilyn said, pointing at him. “You stay in Billy’s room, and I’ll sleep with the girls. Even an honorable knight such as yourself would agree to that, wouldn’t you?”
Edmund shifted nervously on his feet. “Well, since you put it that way, I suppose it will be all right.”
“Besides …” Marilyn pulled one of the sheets from Larry’s printer bin and scanned the parts list. “I’ll need you to be wide awake to guard the house while I take the girls on a shopping trip to the local cross-dimensional supply store.”
Seated on a stone, Semiramis passed her hands around the candle’s red flame. A gray bead dripped down the side, hardening as it neared the splatter of wax on the stone table. She inhaled the smoke and closed her eyes as she chanted in low tones.
The time has come to spring the trap
That wisdom once began;
No love or friend or even son
Shall stop my master’s plan.
Now come to me, my dragon lord;
The fools have done our will.
Prepare our weapons, honed for blood;
The time has come to kill.
Looking up into the dark sky, Semiramis waited. How long would it take? Her previous summons had taken an hour, or so it seemed. Sitting in this buffer between the worlds always skewed her sense of time passage, worse than the Bridgelands ever could. Yet, this realm served a purpose, an excellent hideaway
for clandestine meetings that only the most skilled in Samyaza’s arts could enter, the perfect place to hide the anchor points between Earth and Hades.
Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes, Arramos landed next to the table. As red and shimmering as ever, he stalked toward her, his magnificent wings stretching once, then pulling in.
“Your calling spell would lead me to believe that you have good news.” Arramos stopped at the opposite side of the table and extended his neck. As his head hovered over the candle flame, his red pupils throbbed like a beating heart. “Tell me what you know.”
Semiramis raised a hand and caressed the dragon’s scaly cheek. “Good news, indeed, my lord. The rope is in place, the giants are in Second Eden, and the garden has been fertilized. Although the pathetic children Abraham calls his army have three dragons now, they are guided by the son of Shem, who has never been a general in his life. His only other true warriors are a boy who breathes fire, his wise-cracking sidekick, and an idiom-quoting, centuries-old knight. You might also count one local soldier, a certain Valiant, but his promotion to the role of prophet could well hinder his fighting status.”
“Promotion? What has become of Abraham?”
“Abraham has made himself into a wall of flames, thinking his ring of fire will be enough to enclose our army.”
“He invoked the prophecy so soon?” Arramos’s emerging grin revealed four daggerlike teeth. “We could not have hoped for a better result.”
“True, but he had no choice. His misguided love for the lying woman proved to addle his brain more thoroughly than we predicted.”
“Then he will burn out soon. Perhaps six months, a year at the most.”
“Well … not exactly.” Semiramis drummed her fingers on the table, glancing back and forth between the splash of wax and the dragon’s fiery eyes. “There is a … a complication, and it will not please you.”
