The Bones of Makaidos

by Bryan Davis

  Raising a clenched fist, he muttered under his breath. “I should have taken that spear and—”

  “William?” Patrick grasped Billy’s wrist. “Are you punishing yourself?”

  Letting out a long breath, Billy slowly loosened his fingers. “I guess so.”

  “May I suggest that we concentrate on what we must do now rather than what we have done? A very important decision must be made without delay.”

  Billy shifted his gaze to Listener and kept his voice low. “You mean, surgery?”

  “If we fail to make the attempt, she will die.”

  “But who could do it without killing her even faster?”

  “Our best chance is Ashley. Steadfast told me he can brew an elixir that will give her a burst of energy. It won’t last long, and it will make her recovery take longer, but she might have enough strength to give surgery a try.”

  Billy looked at Ashley lying on a cot next to Walter’s. She had stripped down to shorts and a T-shirt, and no blanket covered her flushed body. Pearl knelt on the floor and mopped Ashley’s bare arms with a sponge. If Ashley hadn’t attempted a healing, Listener would have died hours ago. At least they had bought some time.

  “But Ashley’s never done anything like this before,” Billy said. “Not even close.”

  “I suggest consulting with Elam and Valiant. They must make the decision soon.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Billy shuffled over and sat next to Elam on the cot.

  Elam buried his face in his hands. “Now what are we going to do? If I wasn’t so stupid …” His voice faded away.

  Billy laid an arm over Elam’s shoulders. “Don’t kick yourself.” He glanced at Sir Patrick. He was listening, his knowing smile indicating his pleasure at hearing Billy pass along his words of wisdom. “We should concentrate on what we have to do now,” Billy continued. “You made the right decision.”

  “The right decision?” Elam jumped to his feet and spun back toward Billy. He waved a hand toward the other cots in the triage hut. “Ashley’s fever is a hundred and five. Acacia’s hurt, her flames are spent, and she’s supposed to energize the bones in less than an hour.”

  Billy said nothing. It was probably better to let Elam give himself a swift kick in the pants, in spite of what Sir Patrick had said.

  Running a hand through his mussed mop of hair, Elam lowered his voice to a whisper. “She’ll probably die anyway, and now we can’t call for Makaidos. Everything’s messed up.”

  Billy lowered his voice as well. “Sir Patrick said we have to make a decision. Do we give Ashley an artificial energy boost so she can try surgery, or do we just let Listener die, probably in the next two hours?”

  Elam stayed quiet for a moment before answering in a whisper. “I didn’t know about the energy boost. We should give it a try.”

  “But there’s another option I haven’t told anyone yet.” Billy licked his dry lips, unsure of how to explain his idea. It sounded crazy even to him. “When we go to the garden tonight, maybe instead of calling for Makaidos, we should call for a doctor.”

  “A doctor?” Elam gave Billy a puzzled stare. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just play along with me here. Suppose I said there might be a way to use the garden to call for a doctor instead of for Makaidos. What would you do?”

  “I guess it won’t hurt to speculate.” Elam sat next to Billy again. “We’re preparing for war, and sometimes innocent little girls die in wars. We need more warriors. You’ve seen the people here. They’re loving and kind, but only a few are real soldiers.”

  “But if the garden works, we’ll have Legossi and Firedda. I have seen Legossi fight with Sir Barlow riding her. If she’s at full strength, watch out.”

  Elam stroked his chin. “With the wall of fire still intact, we’ll probably have enough warriors for a while.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  Letting out a quiet laugh, Elam shook his head. “Wishing for a doctor isn’t going to get us one.”

  “But maybe calling for one will.”

  Elam propped an elbow on his knee. “Okay. Give it to me straight. What’s your idea?”

  “Just something I saw in the mines. It reminded me of a story Walter told me.” Billy touched Bonnie’s string of beads, still draped around his neck. “Back when all this started, Devin’s cronies were trying to find Bonnie in her house, so she hid in her attic. Walter and his dad were in her bedroom looking for her, and they saw a poster of a girl praying, and a Bible verse on it said, ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.’ But I don’t remember the rest of it.”

  “In all thy ways acknowledge him,” Elam said, “and he shall direct thy paths.”

  Billy flushed. He should have known that a guy who’s been around for thousands of years would know the Bible so well. “Right. Anyway, another poster said, ‘Call to me, and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.’ The words ‘Call to me’ were underlined in red. So Walter decided just to call Bonnie’s name.”

  “And it worked?”

  Billy nodded. “Bonnie came down from the attic. She was kind of beat up, but she made it through.”

  Elam mimicked Billy’s nod. “Just like the other verse said, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart.’”

  “Exactly. And Bonnie always trusted. She never doubted.” Billy studied Elam’s face. Although he had listened attentively, a look of doubt shaded his expression.

  “Okay,” Elam said. “I think I see where you’re going. When Paili switched the words in her song to “the dragon,” Goliath came out instead of Makaidos.”

  “And he was once a human named Dragon,” Billy added. “Maybe if we call for a doctor, we’ll get one.”

  “But how do you know a doctor is available? I mean, is someone from every profession lying around under our garden waiting to be called up? I’m not trying to be funny or cruel, but if we called for a plumber, do you think we would get one?”

  Billy grinned. “Maybe he could get running water to our bathhouses.”

  “I know what you mean. But do you get my point?”

  “Sure, but that’s where what I saw in the mines comes in. When Listener and I were moving a ladder from the museum room shelves, a scroll fell off and rolled to the Tree of Life. It caught on fire, so I grabbed it and snuffed it out. When I unrolled it there wasn’t much left besides this sentence.” Billy pulled the strip of parchment from his pocket and showed it to Elam. “Do you know Hebrew?”

  Elam murmured his translation. “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no doctor there? Why then is the health of the daughter of my people not restored?”

  Billy touched one of the strange characters. “That’s pretty much how Acacia translated it.”

  “It’s from Jeremiah,” Elam said. “That wasn’t even written when the museum was built.”

  “Acacia said she or Sapphira picked it up during one of their scavenging hunts.” He gave the parchment to Elam. “Since it kind of fell in my lap, and since it glowed white, I thought it might be something we should pay attention to.”

  “It glowed white?”

  “Kind of like a phosphorescent powder. I think the scroll picked it up at the Tree of Life. The dirt in the tree’s planter is covered with the stuff.”

  “I see.” Elam rolled the parchment into a miniature scroll and then back out again. “So you believe this is some kind of sign from God that we should call for a doctor instead of Makaidos.”

  “I’m not sure what I believe, but I was thinking—”

  A new voice broke in. “Billy doesn’t have much experience with calling people back from the dead in resurrection gardens.”

  Billy turned toward the sound. “Walter?”

  Sitting up on the cot and holding a hand against a bandage that wrapped around his bare chest, Walter nodded. “You guys sound like there are only two choices.”

  “Is there another?”
Elam asked.

  “I’ve been around Ashley the logic queen long enough to recognize a false dilemma. Why should you have to choose between Makaidos and a doctor? Why not call both?”

  Elam stared at him. “Call both?”

  “Sure. That garden changed a girl into a woman, and it’s been sprouting dragons right and left. It’s already proved it can handle multitasking.”

  Billy looked at Ashley, still asleep. If she knew Walter was sitting up, she would have a heart attack. He was supposed to stay in bed until morning.

  “Okay,” Elam said slowly. “We can try both, but if the theory is wrong and the ceremony is good for only one resurrection, which should we call first?”

  Setting a hand against his forehead, Walter lay back down in his cot. “Sorry. I’m overloaded now. My brain is choking.”

  Billy interlaced his fingers into a double fist. “I say the doctor.”

  “And you?” Elam said, looking up at Sir Patrick.

  Patrick eyed the blood pressure meter. “My heart cries out for a doctor for this precious girl, but my head says this might be our last opportunity to call the king of the dragons.” With a sigh, he added, “I usually listen to my head, but my heart is holding sway. I think surgery is demanded, so to give this little fighter the best chance, we should ask God for the best surgeon.”

  “Well stated,” Elam said, “but what about Enoch’s commands? We didn’t call for Makaidos the first time, and our choice ended in a disaster. Are we going to fail again to—”

  The door swung open, ushering in a snowy breeze. Acacia and Ruth entered, dressed in heavy cloaks, their shoulders and hoods coated with snow. Acacia limped, but not badly. Apparently her leg wound wasn’t severe.

  Billy and Elam rose to their feet. “Greetings ladies,” Elam said with a bow.

  As Ruth closed the door, Walter waved from his cot. “I’d be chivalrous and stand, too, but I might drop a lung on the floor.”

  Smiling in spite of her pale and haggard face, Acacia brushed snow from her shoulders. “The time has come,” she said softly.

  “Will Ruth recite the same poem?” Elam asked.

  “We see no reason why she shouldn’t.”

  Elam showed Acacia the strip of parchment. “I assume you and Billy talked about this.”

  She nodded. “If you wish to change the word ‘Makaidos’ to ‘a doctor,’ we will do as you ask. We are the couriers of the call, not the composers.”

  “You know what happened the last time I authorized a change.”

  Acacia looked at Listener, motionless and quiet on the elevated cot, save for her rapid, shallow breaths. “You are the warrior chief,” Acacia said, her eyes sparkling with tears. “We will trust and abide by your decision.”

  “Warrior chief?” Elam shook his head and sighed. “I’m just a rookie general from another world. This isn’t a war decision. This is ethics. This is spiritual. And it’s about the life of a girl from a world I barely know. I’m just not qualified.”

  “So who is?” Billy asked.

  “Abraham appointed Valiant to take his place. We’ll have to get him up to speed fast. The ceremony is in about half an hour.”

  “Where is he?” Billy asked.

  “Praying at the garden, most likely.”

  “In the snow?”

  Elam nodded. “Ever since he became Second Eden’s new prophet, he’s spent as much time praying as he has training the troops. Since there’s a portal at the garden, he likes to pray there. It gives him a peaceful feeling.”

  Ruth bowed her head. “I will go to him now and explain the situation.”

  “Good idea,” Elam said. “I’m sure Ember will give you a ride. She is likely staying warm in Emerald’s hut.”

  “I will find her.”

  As Ruth hurried out the door, Billy nodded toward the garden. “My father’s taking his turn patrolling out there. I told Dad about the doctor, so maybe he gave the message to Valiant already.”

  “Good. He’ll have some time to think about it.” Elam picked up a cloak from the cot. “Acacia, I don’t mean to offend you, but you look spent. I have never seen you like this.”

  She laid a palm on her cheek. “I have felt ill all day, and the healing exhausted me.”

  “You should ride, too. Dikaios is in my hut. He’ll be happy to carry you.”

  Acacia lowered her head. “I would like that.”

  “Sir Patrick,” Elam continued, “please give Ashley the elixir that will give her more energy, and the two of you can prepare Listener for surgery. I’m hoping we’ll come back with a doctor, but even if we don’t, we’ll have to try to save her without one. ”

  “Very well,” Patrick said. “We will be ready.”

  Elam turned to Billy. “You should go. Make sure Valiant knows the whole story. I’ll gather the villagers and meet everyone at the garden.”

  “I saw no villagers on my way over here,” Acacia said. “Maybe the weather has kept them inside.”

  Elam furrowed his brow. “No villagers? Not even the children?”

  “Only Cliffside preparing the lanterns for the night. I thought it odd, as well. The snow would be quite a draw for people who have never seen it before, especially the younger ones.”

  “I’d better get moving,” Billy said. As he turned to go, he glanced at Listener again. She was so weak, so close to death. Should he keep trying to persuade them to choose a doctor? Was what happened on Second Eden really his business? Was Elam right about innocent little girls dying during times of war?

  He picked up his own cloak and hurried out of the triage hut. He thrust his arms through the sleeves and balled his fists. They had to ask for a doctor! They just had to! Warrior or no warrior, it didn’t make sense to watch Listener die without trying to do something, anything, even following a wild hunch, a crazy guess that fell from the sky in the guise of a burning parchment in an ancient scroll.

  Jogging through gently falling snow, he approached Cliffside, who was lighting a hanging lantern at the end of the street. “Good evening,” Billy said.

  Cliffside nodded. “It is evening, to be sure, but it is not a good one.”

  Billy stopped, puffing white vapor. “You’re right. It’s a greeting we have in my world. We don’t always mean that it’s good.”

  “I have used the greeting many times, Sir Billy, but with that precious girl bleeding to death, and a season of more death upon us, I see no reason to call it good.”

  Billy dragged his shoe through the snow. Cliffside was right. Listener was a favorite among the villagers because of her willingness to sacrifice herself. With her suffering so much, a heavy gloom seemed to blanket everything. “Well spoken,” was all Billy could muster as he resumed a steady jogging pace.

  As he entered the forest, he looked down at the path. With snow and rain moistening the ground, mud had formed, revealing recent footprints, dozens of them from child-sized to adult.

  Kicking into a higher gear, he rushed out into the field. At the edge of the garden, a sea of lanterns lit the area, highlighting hundreds of people kneeling in the midst of thousands of swirling snowflakes.

  Billy slowed his pace. The weight of gloom had lifted, and now a feeling of holiness took over. This place of prayer was a sanctuary that pleaded for silence or quiet singing.

  As he neared, he found Valiant kneeling in the middle of a circle of villagers. Quite a number of the younger girls wore pigtails, perhaps in honor of Listener’s style. Or perhaps they were from Peace Village, Listener’s home, and the girls there often wore their hair that way.

  Billy’s father sat on one side of the crowd, extending his neck to breathe warm air across as many as he could, while Hartanna and Thigocia sat on the other side doing the same. Ruth knelt next to Valiant, apparently whispering into his ear while Ember, the sorrel mare, stood nearby.

  Stopping at the outer edge of the circle, Billy crossed his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath. The scene spoke volumes. Valiant the warrior had
called his people to battle.

  Hoofbeats sounded. With the lantern light making her eyes gleam, Acacia rode Dikaios across the field. When the great horse stopped, Billy took Acacia’s hand and helped her dismount. Her skin felt cold, her hand thin and frail. Her woolen tunic and trousers hung loosely on her as if on an emaciated waif. Again, Acacia’s call to sacrifice had drained her vitality. How could she once again summon the fires of heaven to ignite the garden of resurrection?

  “Are you all right?” Billy asked.

  She nodded firmly. “God will provide. He always does.”

  Billy gave her an affirming smile. Although her fragile voice didn’t match the fire in her eyes, there was no doubt about the passion in her heart. She could do this.

  As Billy released her hand, allowing her to walk toward the waiting people, Dikaios whispered in his ear. “I fear for her. She is wasting away. Although she has taken from the Tree of Life, she should eat more to gain strength. A morsel of berry bread for each meal will not sustain her.”

  “When this is over, I’ll talk to her. Maybe I can—”

  “Look!” Dikaios bobbed his head toward the crowd.

  As Acacia walked toward Valiant, the people stood as she passed, every man, woman, and child pressing their hands together and bowing their heads. Acacia herself glowed from head to toe. A bluish white aura dressed her in sparkling brilliance as she seemed to float across the snow-covered grass.

  Valiant stood as well. With a sweep of his arm and a low bow, he said, “Welcome, great Oracle. The garden awaits.”

  Chapter 15

  An Oracle of Fire

  I want to stay,” Bonnie said to Abaddon. “I figured out what it means to become ablaze with fire.”

  “You have, have you?” In the dimness of the resurrection chamber, the dragon’s head seemed to hover in midair. “You do not fear pain?”