Enoch's Ghost

by Bryan Davis

  The dragon, sitting on its haunches, cast twin eyebeams on the floor between them. “I am your sister. At least that is what I am told.”

  Ashley eyed the red dots on the floor and followed the beams to the scaly beast. “Roxil?”

  “Yes,” the dragon replied, taking a step toward her, “and since you can see me now, we obviously have a problem.”

  “Problem?” Ashley slid farther back. “You’d better believe there’s a problem. Sapphira and the others are gone, and we’re trapped here.”

  “That is exactly my point.” Roxil swept her tail across the empty space between her and Ashley. “Sapphira is gone and has left us in Hell, so to speak. When I first came out of Dragons’ Rest, Gabriel and I were physically solid. Then, we became merely energy for a short time until the giants and Sapphira departed. Now I am physical again.”

  The dragon’s nonthreatening, matter-of-fact tone set Ashley at ease, at least about being trapped with a dragon. The talk about Hell, on the other hand, racked her nerves. She rose slowly to her feet and brushed dirt from her hands. “What do you make of it?”

  “This is merely a guess, but it fits all the circumstances. For a short time, this place was transported to the world of the living, so you were able to descend into it, and the giants were able to climb out. During that period, Gabriel and I lost our physical forms. Just now, Sapphira created a new portal that took her and your friends out but sent us back to the land of the dead. Since I actually died in the living world, it makes sense that I would be physical here and something of a ghost there.”

  Ashley pointed at herself. “What about me? Does that mean that I’m”

  “Dead?” Roxil opened her claws and looked at their sharp points. “Not necessarily. Other living humans have been abandoned here before.”

  Ashley tried to hide her tight-throated swallow. “Abandoned?”

  “Desolate. Deserted. Forsaken. Choose your own synonym.”

  “But why? What did I ever do to Sapphira?”

  “Who can tell? She is an odd one to say the least. She destroyed Dragons’ Rest, a perfectly reasonable place for dragons to spend eternity.” Roxil’s eyes glowed with a brighter red. “Long ago, a young man named Elam tagged along with her to Dragons’ Rest. On her most recent visit, she brought Gabriel along to help her demolish our home, and now she has taken your Walter to do who-knows-what. She seems to enjoy collecting young men as she blazes a destructive path.”

  Trying not to shake, Ashley glanced at her wristwatch. “Maybe we should give her time. She said she would come back if she left anyone behind. It’s only been a few minutes.”

  Roxil snorted. “Put your faith in humans if you wish. But you shouldn’t hold your breath”—the dragon smiled scornfully“—unless you really want to be dead.”

  The dragon’s last word sliced into Ashley’s mind. Dead. The very last word she wanted to think about, a state she didn’t want to consider.

  Lowering her chin to her chest, she closed her eyes. There had to be an answer. There had to be a way out. Taking a deep breath, she finally settled down and concentrated on the events of the last hour, going backwards in timeSapphira’s story, the journey to the museum chamber, the giants climbing out of the mobility room.

  She snapped her fingers. “The mobility room! I can still get up to the staircase and climb out.”

  “But the rope is on the floor,” Roxil said. “How do you expect to get up to the ceiling?”

  “Can you give me a boost?” Ashley started toward the corridor and called back. “You can get there, can’t you? The corridors between here and there looked big enough.”

  Roxil let out a sparks-laden sigh. “I suppose I can, but if you leave, what will I do?”

  Ashley halted. “If I find Sapphira, maybe she can come back for you. Maybe it was all a mistake, and she’s trying to figure out how to find us right now.”

  Roxil twitched her ears and raised her scaly brow. “Considering that she has played the temptress, usurped your position with your young man, and left you here to rot, I am surprised at your trust in her.”

  “Temptress? What are you talking about? Sapphira’s too sweet to do anything like that.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t notice the attraction, but my experienced eyes tell me far more than your human vision can detect.” Roxil flicked her tongue out and in. “The evidence is quite convincing. She and your young man are together, and you are here. Why should you trust such a deceiver?”

  Averting her eyes, Ashley kicked aside a pebble. Something about this dragon was definitely strange. Why was she so filled with distrust? She couldn’t be right about Sapphira, could she? “If you have a better idea,” Ashley said, “then let’s hear it. Otherwise, Sapphira or no Sapphira, I’m getting out of here, and I’ll do whatever I can to rescue you.”

  Roxil lumbered toward the exit. “I still think we are in Hades, so I have my doubts whether or not the staircase remains, but I suppose it is worth a try.”

  As cold drizzle pelted his head, Mardon stood at the edge of a highway next to one of his giants. The road to his left climbed a slope and curved around a low grassy rise, disappearing about half a mile away. To his right, the highway descended into a more forested area where tall spruces reached into an elevated fog bank.

  Mardon tapped the giant’s hip and pointed at a white Ford Explorer cruising toward them on the rain-slicked road. “That one will do nicely, Bagowd.”

  The giant stepped onto the pavement and waved his arms over his head. As the Explorer’s wheels locked, the female driver screamed. Sliding while it decelerated, the SUV came to a halt with a not-so-gentle bump into Bagowd’s legs. The young woman flung open the door and leaped out, but the giant, in three limping strides, snatched her by the coat collar, hauled her back to the Explorer, and threw her behind the steering wheel.

  “You will drive,” he bellowed.

  Mardon opened the door on the other side and slid into the passenger’s seat. “I apologize for frightening you, Madam, but my need for a vehicle is urgent. When my giant carries me, our progress is much too slow.”

  Her arms shaking violently, the short-haired brunette reached for the gear stick on the steering column and shifted to drive. “Where … where do you want to go?”

  He nodded at Bagowd, who had bent over to rub his injured legs. “Follow him.”

  She settled into her seat, straightening her coat around her. After taking a deep breath, she raised her hands to her temples and said, “Okay, Kaitlyn, you can handle this. Remember your boot camp training.” Now wearing a forced smile, she turned to Mardon. “If your friend’s going on foot, why did you need a ride?”

  Mardon raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure you will see very soon.”

  The giant loped down the road, increasing his speed with every stride. Kaitlyn stepped on the gas and followed. After a few seconds, she looked down at the speedometer. “Wow! He’s doing forty already! I guess our little collision didn’t bother him at all.”

  “Apparently not. This happy outcome is good for both of us.”

  She squinted at Mardon. “Is he some kind of circus freak or something?”

  “I suggest that you address him by his name, which is Bagowd. Calling him a freak to his face would endanger your health.”

  Kaitlyn laughed. “You’re pretty funny, Mister … uh … What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.” Mardon kept his gaze locked on the giant.

  “I’m Kaitlyn Peabody.” She extended a hand, but Mardon just glanced at her and refocused straight ahead. “Are you two actors or something?” she asked. “I mean, your sandals and tunics are great costumes, but I’ll bet you’re cold in them.”

  Mardon replied in a firm monotone. “Miss Peabody, I would appreciate silence. I am concentrating on my giant’s form. If he tires too quickly, I will have reason for concern.”

  “He could ride on top.” Kaitlyn covered her lips. “Sorry. I�
�ll be quiet.”

  Mardon let out an exasperated sigh. “I appreciate your concern, but I want him to exercise. I must know if he is strong enough for the task ahead.”

  Kaitlyn drove on, keeping at least three car lengths behind the sprinting giant. After a few minutes of silence, Bagowd slowed down as he neared a gravel service road on the right.

  “Drive in here,” Mardon said.

  As the Explorer’s wheels rolled over the popping gravel, a uniformed man walked out of a small gatehouse near a fenced entryway. When he spotted Bagowd, his jaw dropped open.

  The giant stalked toward him. With a frantic spin, the guard hustled back to his one-room station and slammed the door.

  When Kaitlyn parked, Mardon got out and, turning back to her, bowed low. “I thank you for your service. I am gladdened that my giant didn’t have to kill you.”

  She stared back at him through the open door, barely moving her lips. “No problem.”

  Bagowd marched to the gatehouse and glared through the door’s window. “Unlock the gate,” he shouted.

  The guard pulled a gun from his holster and aimed it shakily. “Get back!”

  Bagowd punched through the glass, knocking the gun away with his meaty hand. Then, wrapping his fingers around the man’s throat, he lifted him off the ground.

  Mardon turned to Kaitlyn and bowed again. “I’m sorry you had to see this.”

  Jerking forward, she shifted into drive. “I didn’t see anything!” With a mad spinning of tires and slinging of gravel, the SUV roared away, its passenger door still hanging open and wagging on its hinges.

  Mardon turned back to the gatehouse. The guard now lay facedown, his midsection resting over the broken window as his arms dangled limply.

  “Such a shame,” Mardon said as he rejoined Bagowd. “But sacrifice is necessary along the road to Heaven’s gate.” He nodded at the fenced entryway. “Let us proceed.”

  Bagowd pushed his fingers through the chain links and ripped the gate from its moorings. With a mighty heave, he tossed it to the side. The gate spun on a corner and landed against a power company truck.

  Mardon and the giant marched toward the power plant side by side, the sound of rushing water rising from somewhere in the distance. “I fear,” Mardon said, “that we will encounter more resistance inside, so you must be prepared to offer more sacrifices.”

  “What of the driver?” Bagowd asked. “Will she alert the authorities?”

  Mardon laughed. “They will be too busy with a greater crisis. Our friend Chazaq will soon make sure of that.”

  Chapter 9

  The Bridge

  Green is correct.” Glewlwyd touched Elam on the chest. Just as the Caitiff pounced, the world around him suddenly fractured into puzzle pieces and scattered in the wind. A new world took shape, a beautiful forest glade with vibrant green leaves waving from statuesque trees and lush grass as soft as a kitten’s coat. Flowers sprinkled the landscape with dazzling colors—reds that would shame rubies and blues more brilliant than sapphires.

  “This place is amazing!” Elam turned in a slow circle. “Where are we?”

  Glewlwyd, now opaque, stood straighter and rubbed his hand across his scant white hair. “Many call it the Bridgelands, but I like to call it Heaven’s Gauntlet, a front porch, if you will, that leads to Heaven. To enter the final shield you must have the scarlet key in your hand.”

  “A scarlet key? How do I get that?”

  “You will get it when you pass the tests of character that correct my mistakes.”

  “You mean the people who you thought were worthy but really weren’t?”

  The old gatekeeper laid a wrinkled hand on his leathery forehead. “Alas! Although I see into a man’s soul, I do not always catch the dark areas if he has learned to hide them well.”

  Elam opened his cloak and let the gentle breeze blow through. “What kind of unworthy people would venture into Molech’s Forest? They’d have to be willing to risk a lot.”

  “Very true, for if the Caitiff kill them in their wandering bodies, their souls go directly to the Lake of Fire where they will suffer for all eternity. At least in Hades they can delay the inevitable for as long as possible, but they are still desperate wretches who are convinced they don’t belong there, so they go to great lengths to escape.”

  “Who would be so desperate? I mean, I understand why anyone would want to get out of Hades, but facing those monsters takes a lot of courage.”

  “They have courage, to be sure,” Glewlwyd said, “but courage is not always accompanied by purity. Many are preachers or theologians who loudly quote their confessions and institutes to prove their piety, but the darkness in their hearts screams obscenities that drown out their oratory.”

  “There are theologians in Hades?”

  “Certainly. Not all go there, of course, for I am a theologian myself. Yet many fail to understand that it’s not studying God that gains his favor; it is obeying him.”

  “Well spoken.” Elam hiked up his shoulder bag. “So what do I do now?”

  Glewlwyd waved his robed arm across the expansive scenery. “Go forth, and seek so that you may find … but beware. There are great trials in this place, either from evil wanderers who could not complete the gauntlet, or in the form of tests that will assess your character.”

  “That’s no surprise. Merlin told me one of Enoch’s prophecies. He said there’s a dangerous enemy who wants to drink my life, something about taking my fruit that burns within, a flame that melts a subtle knife. Any idea what that means?”

  “I do, indeed.” A sparkle gleamed in Glewlwyd’s eye. “Fruit and life have twofold meanings. You have consumed Eden’s eternal fruit, giving you extraordinary length of life. Someone longs for this gift, craves for it with lustful passion, and would, if you do not act with wisdom, drink it straight from your blood. If you are wise enough, however, perhaps you will conquer your enemy with the second meaning. Your fruit and life are the harvest of your faith. If your enemy feeds on these, a different outcome is assured, one that will bring you great blessing.”

  Giving the old man a smile, Elam shook his head. “Your explanation is almost as cryptic as the prophecy.”

  Glewlwyd replied with a friendly cackle. “I intended for it to be cryptic. How could wisdom be tested if every step is given in advance?” He patted Elam on his chest. “If your heart is pure, you have nothing to fear. If, however, you have hidden any darkness in those secret places I could not see, your enemy will find it, and I cannot bear to tell you what would happen in that case.”

  Elam took a deep breath. “I don’t have any choice. I have to find Acacia and Paili.”

  “You are right.” Glewlwyd moved his hand to Elam’s upper arm and squeezed his bicep. “Loyalty and confidence in your character will get you far, but those two alone will not be enough. You will need clear vision and spiritual foresight.”

  “Speaking of foresight …” Elam pulled the spyglass from his bag and searched the horizon. “I see some kind of trench with a bridge across it.”

  “Considerably more than a trench, as you will see. It is Zeno’s Chasm, much wider and deeper than it appears, and the bridge is old and very dangerous, yet you must cross the chasm to get to Heaven’s altar.”

  Elam collapsed the spyglass. “Is there a way around? A safer bridge, maybe?”

  “I have heard tales of such a passage.” Glewlwyd pointed to his right. “They say if you go in one direction, the chasm becomes narrow and shallow enough to cross, but you will not be able to see the passage from the bridge, even with your spyglass.” He shifted his finger to the left. “If you go the other way, the chasm just gets deeper.”

  Elam looked in the direction the gatekeeper pointed. “So that way is the wrong way, right?”

  Glewlwyd shrugged. “I am not sure, and you should not care. The bridge provides the key to entering Heaven’s altar, so it would be foolish to go any other way. It is a fearsome pat
h, to be sure, and only those with a perfected heart are able to cross, but it is the only path that guarantees the destination.”

  “What happens to travelers who try to find the safer passage?”

  The old man shook his head. “I have heard of travelers who search and never find their way back to the bridge. A wrong choice could lead to an eternity of wandering.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. All they would have to do is turn around and follow the edge of the chasm back to the bridge.”

  Glewlwyd pointed at him and winked. “In your world, yes, but here you must get accustomed to many new realities … and new dangers.”

  “I hope the dangers aren’t any worse than the Caitiff.” Elam laid the spyglass in the bag and patted the side. “I don’t have any weapons.”

  “I suggest preparing your mind for obstacles far more deadly.” The old man’s body began to disappear, becoming transparent again as his voice faded. “You already have the greatest of weapons.”

  The moment Glewlwyd vanished, Elam shifted his bag higher on his shoulder and marched straight toward the chasm. As he whisked past the flowers, a new fragrance buoyed his senses, a fresh, lively aroma the wildflowers in Hades could only dream of creating.

  Light seemed to emanate from somewhere over a forested hill beyond the chasm. The top of that rise would be a good place to get a view of the entire area and plan the rest of his journey.

  As he drew closer to the chasm, it seemed to grow wider and wider, so wide that when he finally reached it, he felt like a mouse at the edge of the Grand Canyon. The span was nothing more than a simple rope bridge with parallel ropes on top and bottom and loose or broken boards tied between the lower pair, barely wide enough for walking. A stiff breeze blew through the chasm, swinging the bridge as its arch dangled over the massive gap.

  Elam peered down the sheer drop. No bottom was in sight. Even though the opposite cliff was far away, the two sheer walls seemed to meet in the nebulous distance below. The odd perspective dizzied his brain. He had to lurch backwards just to keep from falling in.