Eye of the Oracle oof-1

by Bryan Davis

  Sapphira stood with him and pulled out her cross. “Gather together.”

  Gabriel extended a wing and draped it around Elam and Sapphira. “Okay. Let’s see what happens.”

  Sapphira lit the cross and circled it over her head. The familiar cylinder of flames encircled them, and the forest scene vanished. Seconds later, Sapphira fell through a flexible wall of thick material and tumbled to a hard floor. After dousing the cross, she grasped the material and pulled herself up, drawing it to the side as she rose. “A curtain,” she whispered.

  “The portal covering,” a hoarse voice replied.

  Sapphira searched for the source of the voice. Darkness obscured a human figure nearby. She raised the cross again and commanded light. A gentle flame rippled across the wood, illuminating Elam’s reddened cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “Gabriel’s not here. He must not have made it through.”

  “How can that be? The fire surrounded all of us.” Sapphira raised the cross higher. “More light, please.” Instantly, a new surge of flames brightened the room. Just beyond Elam, an eerie profile glittered, like crystals reflecting sunlight. The silhouette of a winged boy moved, more like a shining ghost than a living human.

  Sapphira clapped her hand over her mouth and spoke between her fingers. “Gabriel!”

  Elam pivoted. “Where?”

  Sapphira crept toward Gabriel’s sparkling frame. He extended his hands as if trying to communicate, but no sound emanated from his radiant face.

  She moved the cross closer to his body. “Look. He’s trying to say something.”

  Elam spread out his arms. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

  She reached out and touched one of Gabriel’s glowing hands. “He’s right here. I guess my vision is sharper than yours.”

  Elam laid his hand on top of Sapphira’s. “He must still be disintegrated in this dimension.”

  Sapphira closed her eyes, and the portal’s soul-sinking influence weighed down her mind. “Will he die?”

  “I don’t know.” Elam pointed at the window. “Can we send him back in there?”

  As a flood of pure sadness drowned her spirit, Sapphira could only shake her head. “He doesn’t want to go.”

  “How do you know?” Elam asked. “Is he speaking to you?”

  Sapphira shuddered, trying to fight off the gloom. “In a way. It’s like a stream of thoughts or feelings. He says he doesn’t want to be trapped in there.”

  “He’d rather be out here without a body?”

  “He says he planned to sacrifice himself to fulfill the prophecy, so he’ll just wait to see what happens. It’s better than being trapped all alone in the world of the dead.” Sapphira spied something on the floor. The pendant! She scooped it up and showed it to Elam. “It came back through with Gabriel, but it stayed physical. And the gem’s white now.”

  “How could that be?” Elam touched the gem with his fingertip. “It’s still glowing.”

  Sapphira drew her fist close to her mouth and bit her thumb. “We. . we have to get outside and see if we can help Patrick and Paili, but we can’t just leave Gabriel here!”

  Elam took the chain from Sapphira and draped it around his neck. “We don’t have much choice.” He took a step and stood between her and Gabriel. “I guess you’re in front of me somewhere, and I hope you can hear me. We’ll try to come back with Patrick as soon as we can. Maybe he can figure out what’s going on.”

  Elam took Sapphira’s hand. “Come on.” With the fire of the cross lighting the way, they dashed out of the room, sprinted through the maze of corridors, and burst out the front doorway into a drenching downpour. Sapphira extinguished the cross and tiptoed behind Elam as he crept toward a rhododendron shrub. Hunching over, they both peered through the breaks in its foliage. The pounding rain smothered every other sound.

  Across a wide expanse of grass, Paili knelt on the driveway, cradling Patrick in her arms. Morgan and Devin were nowhere in sight.

  “Let’s go!” Elam whispered. He leaped out into the open and sprinted toward Paili. Sapphira followed, her bare feet splashing through the squishy lawn. As they approached, Paili looked up. Pain warped her face, and a trickle of blood oozed from under her nose and dripped onto her lips.

  Elam fell to his knees at Patrick’s side. “Is he. .” He swallowed hard, unable to finish.

  Paili shook her head. As tears and raindrops poured down her cheeks, her pain-streaked voice barely penetrated the wall of rain. “He’s. . alive. I think. . he’s asleep.”

  “Asleep?” Sapphira knelt next to Paili and clasped her hand. “What happened?”

  “You disappeared.” Paili nodded toward the idols. “Then a stream of red fire came out from your flames and. .” She mopped her brow with her trembling fingers. “And it went right into Patrick’s chest. He lit up for a few seconds and then fell to the ground.”

  Sapphira pushed Paili’s hair out of her eyes. “What happened to Morgan and Devin? Where did they go?”

  Paili took a deep breath. “Morgan picked up the sword and said, ‘Only one more step on my stairway to heaven,’ and they both disappeared in a puff of smoke.”

  April, 1949

  Holding a dim lantern at his side, Elam tiptoed into the ancient chamber at the back of Patrick’s mansion. As he neared the central table, the lantern’s weak flame twirled in the cool draft descending from the hole in the roof, giving just enough light to cast a glow over a figure sitting in a high-backed chair. Patrick’s crumpled outline hunched over the table, his head buried in his arms. Elam reached to touch Patrick’s shoulder, but just before his fingers alighted, Patrick lifted his head.

  Elam backed away a step, his voice low. “Sorry. I just wanted to check on you.”

  Patrick’s lips spread out in a frail smile. “You heard the news, I assume?”

  “Yes,” Elam replied, his tone like the gong of a death knell. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Patrick’s smile abated. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Morgan will wait until the child is older, perhaps a teenager, before she makes her move, but we have to begin preparations now. Of course, we’re assuming the baby will be a girl, but I have little doubt.”

  Elam pressed his palm against his chest. “Just let me know what to do. I’ll do anything you ask.”

  “Of that, I am certain.” Patrick’s gaze wandered, finally settling on the lantern in Elam’s hand. “We will have to be extremely creative if we wish to fool Morgan. In order to keep her searching elsewhere, I’ll begin spreading the news that my cousin Stanley will take over the orphanage, and my cohorts will plant stories of Patrick Nathanson, his wife, and Elam moving to various towns in England. Paili and I will change our names and relocate to another house, but we’ll likely stay near Glastonbury so Paili can keep track of the children.”

  Elam watched the lantern’s flame waltz in Patrick’s eyes. “So Stanley will take care of them?”

  “Yes. He is not my natural cousin, of course, but I adopted his last name after becoming good friends with his family. In any case, he and his wife will move into this house. They have four children of their own, so they are well versed in the practice of child rearing.”

  Elam pulled out a chair and sat next to Patrick. “Do you want me to stay here and help? I know this place inside and out.”

  “I was hoping you would volunteer.” Patrick clasped Elam’s shoulder. “I’m sure Paili would be comforted knowing you’re here. Since Morgan has her evil intentions set on our child, I don’t think she will bother you.”

  “True,” Elam said, setting the lantern on the table, “but I wouldn’t mind changing my name, at least to use for business matters. Elam isn’t exactly common anymore.”

  “Certainly. Do you have a preference?”

  Elam folded his hands on the table and pressed his thumbs together. “My shipyard manager in Glasgow died to save my life. I’d like to take his name.”

 
; “You would do well to honor him that way. What was his name?”

  “Markus.” Elam patted his chest. “I even have a shirt with Markus embroidered on it, so I’ll wear it when I’m in public.”

  “Well, then, Markus,” Patrick said, clasping Elam’s shoulder again, “I hope you live as many years with that name as you’ve lived with your previous one.”

  Elam adjusted the lantern to expose more of the wick. “What will your name be?”

  Patrick folded his hands next to Elam’s. “I chose Robert. It’s a simple name that won’t raise eyebrows. We can’t use Ruth any longer, and Paili couldn’t decide on a new name, so I chose Sarah for her.”

  “Sarah? Why Sarah?”

  “It was Merlin’s wife’s name. Merlin seemed to die inside when Morgan poisoned his wife, so I wish to honor them by resurrecting her memory. It’s a small token, but it’s meaningful to me.”

  “I understand.” Elam leaned back in his chair and sighed. Pain and sorrow had visited the homes of prophets and dragons all too often Merlin’s lost wife, murdered dragons, a threatened pregnant mother and unborn daughter, and now he had to raise another troubling issue that promised more heartache. Elam drummed his fingers on the table. “I met with Sapphira today.”

  Patrick’s gaze seemed locked on his folded hands. “You did?” His reply was halfhearted, as if he hadn’t heard Elam’s comment.

  Elam pushed the lantern closer to Patrick, trying to awaken his attention. “She saw Gabriel.”

  Patrick lifted his head higher. His eyes seemed to flash with a burst of hope. “She saw Gabriel?”

  “Well, she didn’t really see him face-to-face.” Elam positioned his fingers to make a frame. “It’s really weird. There’s this portal where she lives. While I had the Ovulum, Sapphira’s portal stretched into a viewing screen, and she could watch me through it. Then, after Devin broke the Ovulum, the screen disappeared. But now the screen is back, and she can see glimpses of Gabriel’s feet and hands and sometimes the tips of his wings.”

  “Glimpses of just his extremities? How odd!”

  “It’s sort of like she’s able to see what Gabriel sees, like she’s looking through his eyes. Sometimes his extremities come into the picture.”

  Patrick flopped to the back of his chair. “Amazing! His eyes have become a cross-dimensional camera!”

  “That’s what we guessed, too. But how could it happen?”

  “I cannot fathom the reason,” Patrick said, stroking his chin. “I know very little about disembodied spirits.”

  “Disembodied? You mean, like a ghost?”

  “Certainly not,” Patrick replied, shaking his head. “The ghosts you see in horror movies are an absurd warping of reality. Although every spirit rises from its body, very few are ever seen on the earth. Gabriel is far from a haunting, morbid presence.”

  “Do you think he’s dead?” Elam’s voice squeaked. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I thought maybe he survived, that he’s just in another form.”

  “Excalibur transformed his body, to be sure, but he still moves about in our world, so I think writing an obituary is premature.”

  “But didn’t the prophecy say he had to die?”

  “The prophecy does not use those words.” Patrick withdrew a folded piece of paper from his pocket and flipped it onto the table. “I have read it a thousand times since that fateful day, and there are many ways to interpret its morbid verses. By learning from other events in history, however, I believe we can hope that Gabriel survived. When God directs a sacrifice for the sake of others, isn’t it reasonable to assume that he has also paved the way for a resurrection? God used Gabriel’s sacrifice and the energy from the rubellite to make me human. I believe that such love and power could never end in death.”

  Elam slid the paper close and slowly opened it. “So, what do you think Gabriel will do? I mean, he can’t just wander around, can he?”

  “When it comes to willingness of heart, Elam, you and Merlin are the only humans I have ever met who come close to Gabriel’s stature. I am sure God will use him somehow.”

  “Maybe Sapphira will figure it out. She’ll be watching what he does.”

  Patrick wagged his finger at Elam. “It could be dangerous for you to continue meeting Sapphira. Morgan is always vigilant and will track Sapphira to her portal. For her safety and the safety of the children, you should stay in the house as much as possible and only come out through the tunnel exits.”

  Elam spread the note out on the table but didn’t bother reading it. The words were already etched in his memory. “I guess you’re right. I’ll meet with her once more and let her know.”

  Patrick raised the pendant from underneath his shirt and caressed its pearly white gem. “Ever since I became fully human, I have felt more alone than I ever had before. It’s as though my emotional connection to my dragon heritage departed hand in hand with my dragon soul. With the exception of you and my faithful wife, I feel I have lost everyone I ever loved.”

  Elam gazed at the lantern’s flame as it danced atop the wick. “I know exactly what you mean. I still have Sapphira as a friend, but I can’t risk seeing her anymore. You’re the only person I can really talk to, and now we have to part company.” Blinking away tears, he turned to Patrick. “I’ll help you out in the orphanage as long as you need me.”

  Patrick clasped wrists with Elam. “May God go with you, Markus. I am glad to have a friend I can trust.”

  Gabriel floated in front of a hotel room door and read the numeric script at the side. Room 1178. This was it. After weeks of searching for the slayers, he had finally tracked them down. Maybe now he could end the nightmares his parents had faced for so many years.

  He collapsed his body to a flat layer of energy and crept through the crack under the door. After expanding to his normal height again, he stalked toward a pair of typical hotel beds. Each mattress carried a gently heaving lump, two sleeping men with only drapery-filtered moonlight illuminating their forms.

  Gabriel hovered for a moment over the first bed, peering at the shadowy profile a dark mustache, a swarthy complexion, but not familiar at all. As he floated toward the next bed, the shadows shifted away from the second man’s face. This was Devin. No doubt about it. Sleeping with his torso exposed, Devin snored lightly, apparently without a care in the world. Attached to a chain and resting on his hairy chest, a sparkling gemstone seemed to inhale wisps of moonlight.

  Gabriel edged toward the gem. Somehow, it pulled on his body and drew him even closer. He tried to will himself backwards, beating his wings to create an electrostatic countercurrent, but even as his upper half moved away from the stone, his lower half stretched toward it, stringing his body out in a narrowing line of radiance.

  His wings collapsed, and the gem slurped his entire energy field. He plummeted down a rivulet of light, sliding faster than if he were freefalling out of the sky. Tiny pricks stung his elongated body, and the sound of a rushing torrent surged through his mind, numbing his senses. After a few seconds, he pierced a soft black sphere, a jelly-like membrane that slowed his plunge. While floating downward through a chamber of blackness, his body retracted to its original shape and size, and when he finally stopped, all pain vanished, and a gentle hum replaced the noisy torrent.

  He looked around the strange dark world and set his glowing hands on his hips. What had just happened? How could a gem absorb his body like that? Slowly willing his feet forward, he tried to move, but with only blackness all around, it seemed impossible to tell if he was making any progress.

  Stopping for a moment, he focused his eyes in one direction, hoping to adjust to the lack of light and get his bearings. As he began to recognize the borders of a dark hallway, a glimmer appeared at the end of the corridor, growing quickly. Gabriel tried to back away, but he bumped into a wall.

  The approaching light took shape, an old man with a friendly smile. Like his own body, this man seemed completely composed of energy.

 
“Ah! Gabriel!” the man said. His voice rippled along a thin current of radiance that passed between them. “I’m glad to see you!”

  Gabriel floated a few inches to the side. “Uh, how do you know me?” His own voice sounded garbled and strange, like a static-filled radio broadcast.

  The man chuckled, jiggling the edges of his field. “A friend of mine told me to expect a boy with dragon wings and that his name would be Gabriel. You’re the first visitor who has fit that description.”

  “Really?” Gabriel spread out his arms. “How many visitors do you get in this place?”

  “Very few, to be sure, but I would like to dispense with the banter, if you don’t mind.” The man bowed his head. “I am Merlin, prophet of God and former advisor to King Arthur.”

  Gabriel shuddered and clumsily returned the bow. “And I’m Gabriel, but you already knew that.”

  “You will be surprised at all I have come to know. But before I get to that, I would like to ask you a question.”

  “Okay. I’m ready. . I think.”

  Merlin stretched his arm upward, elongating it to twice its normal length. “According to my estimation, it is around two o’clock in the morning, so since you found Devin, I assume you came upon him while he was sleeping.” He shifted his arm toward Gabriel and draped it over his shoulder. “What did you intend to do?”

  “To kill him. He wants to kill my parents, so I was trying to stop him.”

  “I see.” Merlin stroked his chin. “How could you kill him in your disembodied state?”

  Gabriel lifted his glowing hand and splayed his fingers. “I’ve been experimenting with channeling electricity. I’ve only done it with batteries, and I shocked a couple of cats, but I think I can hook up to an outlet and deliver a lethal jolt.”

  “Assuming you were able, what do you think the jolt would have done to you?”

  “I really don’t care.” Gabriel rolled his fingers into a fist. “Even if it scattered my atoms to kingdom come, it would be worth it if I could protect my parents from that murderer.”

  Merlin nodded. “A reasonable motivation, to be sure, but do you think killing an unarmed man in his sleep is a noble act?”