Omega Dragon

by Bryan Davis

Eagle gestured toward Tamiel’s headless form. “It’s still on the body.”

  “And you said Karrick’s in the cave?”

  “He was there moments ago. He had just reignited the portal flames before you arrived, but he returned to the cave to protect Ashley and the others.”

  “Good. Perfect. The cloak is fireproof, so Karrick can heat my body without burning me. His fire will soup up my healing powers.”

  “Then I will go to the cave and—”

  “Wait. Did you see my mother anywhere? She might have Excalibur. Then I wouldn’t need the cloak.”

  Eagle shook his head. “Ashley told me your mother and your grandmother flew on Grackle to the birthing garden. They have a plant that is supposed to grow into Clefspeare. They hope he will battle and defeat Arramos, though they are unsure about the planting procedure. It seems that Mardon has critical information in that regard. He is lurking about somewhere in Second Eden, so they hope he will eventually come to the garden.”

  “And Excalibur?”

  “Your mother has it, and I hear that she is now quite the expert with it.”

  “Okay. We’ll go with what we have. Drape the cloak over me. Then get Karrick.”

  “Fools!” Tamiel stood upright, wobbly but intact as he adjusted his head onto his neck, his thin fingers in his dark curly hair. He stood beyond the fire at the spot where Matt had been sleeping. “Bullets and swords cannot kill me.”

  Eagle snatched up the rifle and aimed it at him. “I swear by my father’s name if you take a step closer I will rip your body to pieces with a hail of bullets.”

  “I will not step closer. Your conversation has given me the information I need.” He wrapped the cloak tightly and hobbled toward the gap closer to him.

  “Stop him!” Matt shouted. “We need that cloak!”

  Eagle dropped the rifle, ran to Tamiel, and grabbed the cloak. As Tamiel tried to jerk away, Eagle set his feet and pulled. The material ripped, leaving a long swatch in Tamiel’s hand.

  Eagle threw the cloak toward Matt and scooped up the rifle. Wings sprouted from Tamiel’s back. He beat them furiously and flew toward the top of the wall.

  Eagle fired. A bullet ripped through Tamiel’s arm, but he flew on. As Eagle fired again and again, Tamiel accelerated and faded into the darkness.

  Huffing, Eagle snatched the cloak from the ground, most of it intact, and walked toward Matt. “Will this suffice?”

  Matt nodded. “It should be plenty.”

  Listener’s back arched. As she groaned, the flow of blood spiked.

  Matt reached with his free hand. “Give me the Glock, take the rifle, and get Karrick. Hurry!”

  Eagle picked up both guns, pushed the Glock into Matt’s hand, and dropped the cloak at his side. “I will return soon.” He rushed out of the portal enclosure.

  Taking a deep breath, Matt tried to slow his racing heart as he set the gun down and added a second hand to the wound massage. Listener breathed in short gasps. Blood warmed his fingers. Tamiel intended a fatal blow, so he likely struck deep and hard, maybe slicing through an organ. If not for the healing touch, she would probably be dead already.

  The flames cast undulating light over his hands. How long ago had he healed Darcy with these blood-covered fingers? Hours? Days? Just before the healing, love flowed in a warming flood as the last particles of icy hatred melted away. An enemy became a sister, a beloved friend. Love ignited his gift, and new healing power supercharged his hands.

  And now he needed that power again. Using the cloak and dragon fire would probably work, but it would bring a crippling side effect—weakness that might last for hours. Tamiel was probably on his way to the birthing garden. He could show up as Lauren, and Mom wouldn’t suspect him. Someone needed to be there to warn her of his deceit. Eagle could do it, but Eagle was supposed to be dead. Hearing the truth from her own son would be better.

  Tears blurring his vision, he looked up. A few stars twinkled in the dark sky, veiled now and then by the fire’s rising smoke. “God …” He cleared his throat. “I need help. You taught me how to love. Well, Mom and Darcy taught me, but I know it came from you. I feel like a little kid with a big gun. The healing worked for them, but I think I kind of stumbled across the trigger. And now I need it to work again. But how do I do it? How do I find the trigger?”

  As he gazed at Listener’s travailing face, Mom’s words returned. Reject hate and embrace love—love for God, love for others, especially for … He finished with a whisper. “For Darcy.”

  He blinked through increasing tears. Mom loved enough to talk about love, to break through a barrier, to shatter chains forged by silence. Love is squelched by thoughts that never become words, by feelings that never flow to the heart of another, by truth that never rides the air in passionate voice.

  Sniffing, Matt gazed again at Listener. Maybe her gifted ears could take in his words even while unconscious. Even if not, he had to give voice to love. “Listener, I don’t know how to say this except to just blurt it out. … I love you. I’m not even sure what that means. Several things, I guess. At first, I just admired your warrior spirit. Most girls I know think about their hair and clothes, superficial stuff that doesn’t matter, but you think about defending those who can’t defend themselves. I saw for myself how much you love your family—your adoptive mother, your sister, your brother. I witnessed your fierce loyalty to those who depend on you for survival.”

  Listener’s grimace tightened. Her lips moved as if trying to form words, but only a stuttering groan spilled from her tortured body.

  “Shhh. It’s going to be all right.” Matt bit his lip hard. She was in so much pain! She needed endurance … confidence … a word of assurance. “You’re a leader, a champion. Even while Second Eden’s villages burned and so many threw their hands up in confusion, you took charge and restored order. When faced with the destruction of a lair that held darkness and death, you marched in with your head held high. You believed in the impossible, that a worthless statue held a priceless soul.”

  As he took in a deep breath, a tear dripped and fell on Listener’s skin, mixing with her blood. “Even though you couldn’t possibly gain anything, you risked your life again and again. You nearly drowned, you almost froze, you endured a squealing storm, you marched across miles of ice … for what? For someone else. Always for someone else. And now you lie here near death, your blood pouring out for the sake of another.”

  Matt swallowed through a tight knot in his throat. “Listener, love like yours is so rare. I want to love like you do. I need to watch how you do it, to witness your ways. I want to show you the same kind of love, to return it with all my heart. I want to be with you forever. But … but if you die …”

  Listener gasped. A spasm tightened her abdominal muscles, pinching Matt’s fingers within the wound. The blood grew hot. Flesh burned, raising a foul odor.

  He slowly withdrew his fingers. With every millimeter of movement, Listener cringed. She cried out, “Oh, it burns! It burns!”

  As Matt’s fingertips passed across the interior tissues, they sealed, as if cauterized by his touch. “Shhh … It’s going to be all right.”

  Matt pulled his fingers out and massaged the cut, spreading blood over the gash. The red liquid sizzled with tiny bubbles. Smoke rose from the wound. With every passing second, the cut shrank. Soon, only blood remained visible as it bubbled in a shallow pool. Matt wiped it away. The wound had sealed, leaving a thin white scar.

  Listener’s eyes opened. “Matt?”

  “Yes!” He reached a hand toward her cheek, but when wet blood on his palm came into view, he drew it back. “Are you all right?”

  As she sat up slowly, she winced. She enfolded his hands in hers, apparently not caring about the blood. “What happened?”

  “You got stabbed, so I—”

  “Stabbed!” Her eyes shot open. “Lauren stabbed me! She came here, so I thought she—”

  “Shhh. Every
thing’s all right. It wasn’t Lauren. It was Tamiel in disguise.”

  She blinked. “Tamiel?”

  “He was disguised as Valiant, then as Lauren. He can impersonate anyone he’s killed.” Matt looked toward the top of the wall. “He’s gone, and he didn’t do any more damage. But he will if we don’t get to the birthing garden before he does. Since he can fly, we have to hurry.”

  She tilted her head. “I hear wings. Is he still close?”

  “That’s probably Karrick. Eagle went to get him for us.”

  Her voice spiked. “Eagle’s here? He’s alive?”

  “Very much so. Tamiel was about to kill me, and Eagle saved my life.”

  Accompanied by a gust of wind, Karrick flew over the wall, Eagle riding his back. When Karrick landed, the breeze from his wing beats fanned the portal flames.

  Eagle jumped down and stared at Listener. “You’re healed? How did—”

  “Eagle!” She struggled to her feet and limped into his arms. “You resurrected! You were the soul in the statue!”

  “Yes. I was—”

  “Wait.” Matt picked up the cloak and put it on. The ragged-edged bottom portion covered his legs down to his knees. “Let’s tell our stories on the way.” He turned to Karrick. “Can you carry us to the birthing garden? My mother and grandmother went there on Grackle to restore Clefspeare, and Tamiel is on his way to stop them.”

  “I can fly that far with three, but who will stay to protect those in the cave? Ashley is still very weak.”

  Eagle raised a hand. “I will. They have a rifle, but I wouldn’t want the elderly lady to have to defend everyone for long.”

  “Good. Thanks.” Matt retrieved the Glock and slid it into his pants pocket. “Let’s hope this is enough for us.”

  “May the Father of Lights guide your path.” Eagle hugged Matt and Listener in turn, then exited through a gap in the wall.

  When he departed, a log near the top of the fire tumbled down the side. The flames diminished, now barely more than a campfire.

  “Should one of us stay to keep the fire going?” Listener asked as she checked the spyglass at her belt. “Is the portal open now?”

  Matt shook his head. “I walked where it’s supposed to be, and nothing happened. But it is functional. Sapphira already sent people through, so maybe she doesn’t need the fire anymore.”

  Listener patted an empty sheath on her belt. “My dagger is gone.”

  “Tamiel probably took it.”

  “Most likely.” Listener snapped the sheath’s fastener. “Let’s go.”

  Karrick lowered his head to the ground. “Feel free to mount.”

  Matt and Listener climbed up Karrick’s neck. With every step, Listener cringed, a hand pressed against her wound. When they settled with Matt in front, Karrick beat his wings, vaulted upward, and sailed over the wall into the cold darkness.

  Holding to one of the dragon’s spines, Matt stared into the cold headwind. With nightfall nearly complete, trying to see anything might be hopeless. They would have to count on Karrick’s senses and memory to get them to the garden in time.

  CHAPTER 21

  SLEEPWALKING

  Lauren stomped on a flaming spider and ground it under her heel. Sparks and smoke flew, and a foul odor assaulted her nose. Nearby, Merlin and Sir Barlow each crunched a spider underfoot. The three of them had already killed at least a dozen, and now it seemed that the rest of the arachnid army had retreated to the shadows and stalagmites.

  Using his staff for support, Merlin sank to the ground at the edge of the life reservoir and shook his head. “I fear that attack was merely a test to see how well we could defend the pool.”

  “Agreed.” Sir Barlow sat on a rock and swiped a sleeve across his brow. “Their captain stayed hidden, so it was definitely a scouting mission. That monster won’t be so easy to stomp.”

  Lauren walked to Merlin’s side and scanned the reservoir. “Did the spiders do any damage?”

  “Not much.” Merlin ran a finger across an indentation in the surface of the pool. “I saw only one on the reservoir itself. It was able to melt an inch of ice in only a moment, so I assume all of them together could liquefy the surface quickly.”

  Lauren spotted a spider’s dead body a foot or so away from Merlin’s finger. “So they’ll be back.”

  “Without a doubt. They don’t know when the reservoir will become full, and neither do we for that matter, so they likely won’t risk waiting for much longer.”

  Sir Barlow picked up the ovulum. “Shall we go back to watching our friends? Their activities might provide a clue with regard to the filling.”

  “Go ahead.” Merlin grasped his staff and, with Lauren’s help, rose to his feet. “I want to take another reading.”

  When Lauren joined Sir Barlow, she leaned around his shoulder and looked at the ovulum in his cupped hands. Within the sphere, the red-framed viewing window showed Matt and Listener flying on a dragon, heading away from the Second Eden portal and its dwindling fire.

  She turned to Merlin. He held his staff over the reservoir’s surface and stared at the top. The light emanating from the candlestone had brightened, but it still looked rather yellowish. “Uh … Merlin?”

  “Feel free to call me by my name. I require no formalities.” He pulled the staff from the ice. “Even after the addition of Carl Foley’s and Carly’s energy, we are still far short. It will take a major infusion to fill the reservoir.”

  Lauren imagined the faces beneath the ice—flowing and swirling in their endless dance. “How many more deaths are needed?”

  “Impossible to guess. It depends on the magnitude of sacrificial love the person expresses in death as well as during life. For example, the death of Christ could fill the reservoir by itself, and the death of a long-term missionary would provide a great infusion, while others might provide a minuscule fraction of that amount.”

  Lauren blew warm air on her chilled fingers. “What about children like those Arramos is killing? Since they’re innocent, don’t they contribute a lot?”

  “It is not merely innocence or purity that creates this energy. The biggest factors are length of service, depth of suffering, and willingness. With the children, it might take hundreds of deaths.”

  “Hundreds?”

  “Again, I don’t know. This is untested ground.” Merlin walked toward her. “I apologize for the tangent. What was your original question?”

  Lauren refocused on the ovulum. “I’m wondering about the portal. No one’s left on the Second Eden side. What good would it do for Sapphira to open it now? Clefspeare isn’t there to come through, and no one can tell her where everyone is.”

  “Indeed,” Sir Barlow said as he drew his nose close to the ovulum. “Militarily speaking, the Earth-side portal has become a vulnerability, not an asset. Opening it can only provide a way for Arramos to send his forces into the land.”

  “Well spoken.” Merlin stood next to Lauren and looked over her shoulder at the ovulum. “Such is the way with portals. They are merely doors that allow both good and evil to pass through. Without guards at the gates, you might as well tear down the fortifying walls.”

  “Matt couldn’t leave anyone to guard the portal,” Lauren said. “They barely survived, and they had emergencies to take care of.”

  “I am not criticizing their decision to leave. I am merely pontificating a principle.”

  “Alliteration.” Lauren smiled. “You remind me of a friend.”

  Merlin chuckled. “Abaddon, I assume.”

  She nodded. “Do you know where he is?”

  “He and his horde have been exacting punishment upon evildoers in many regions, which is why the Earth has not suffered a cataclysmic war. Everyone is too busy trying to survive or trying to die to escape the wrath. In any case, Abaddon has a role in our business at hand, as does Enoch. I don’t expect them to tarry long.”

  “Okay, well, back to the portal. Like S
ir Barlow said, it’s a vulnerability.” She nodded toward Jade’s sanctum. “All of the portals are controlled from that room, right? Can’t we do something there to prevent Arramos from getting to Second Eden?”

  Merlin twirled his beard with a finger. “An Oracle of Fire can move a portal from either side, but it would take a monumental amount of energy. If Sapphira were in good health, she could move the portal to exit at the birthing garden, but in her current condition, that seems doubtful. I don’t see how she could maintain the massive firestorm that the task would require. The distance is too great.”

  Lauren pointed at herself. “Can’t I move a portal? There has to be a reason God made me an Oracle of Fire.”

  Merlin lifted a finger. “Ah! A brilliant notion. Perhaps you have provided the third puzzle piece.”

  “What puzzle piece?”

  “You said it yourself. Think, my dear! You are right on the cusp!”

  “I said …” Lauren mentally replayed her words. “God made me an Oracle of Fire.”

  Merlin lifted his brow. “And that means?”

  The sequence of events flashed through her mind—the first realm’s filthy water and how she diverted the sludge’s flow, which cleared the water so she could find the yoke that allowed entry to the second realm; the second realm’s field of bones and how her delivery of life-giving water resurrected the energy and cleansed the pool; the third realm’s icy darkness, though nothing she had done here fit into the puzzle, at least not yet. Still, each step changed her, gave her a heartbeat, fire, then resurrection.

  She looked at Merlin and spoke with confidence. “The reservoir’s puzzle isn’t a series of physical obstacles. It’s a sequence of events that transformed me. The final portal wouldn’t have opened unless I had become an Oracle of Fire.”

  “My thoughts exactly. A villain would be unable to complete the path, because he has neither the purity nor the holy impulse or selflessness to do so.”

  “So can I do something about the portal to Second Eden? Is that my final step? I might be an Oracle of Fire, but I don’t seem to have that power here.”