The Great and Terrible

by Chris Stewart

  Lucifer stood over him, a somber look on his face.

  “Is that how it will be?” Luke cried in anguish, a terrified look in his eyes.

  “More or less,” the great Deceiver replied. “I can’t see the details, and so I fill in the blanks. The exact location and time, other parties in the scene, the landscape and such things, these are hazy to me; but yes, I have shown you the essence of what her mortal life will be.”

  Luke moaned with a sickness that reached to the pit of his soul. He cried out in anguish. Not his sister, Beth! He swallowed and sat up. He didn’t know what to do. “Does it have to be that way?” he groaned in a low voice.

  “According to Him, yes, it does.”

  “But who will cause all that suffering?”

  “I don’t know,” Satan lied. “All I can tell you is it’s a part of the plan.” Part of my plan, Satan laughed in delight to himself. “But remember, dear Luke,” he continued, “Jehovah will be the king of the earth. And who else but the king could allow such a thing to take place?”

  It was a terrible lie, he knew, but Lucifer didn’t skip a beat, for lying now came more easily than telling the truth. And in all of his practice, he had learned a useful trick: the more outrageous the lie, the more likely it was to be believed. Christ is the deceiver. He doesn’t care about you! He won’t die for you, but I will! And I don’t want his glory. I will share it with you! His lies grew more and more bold every day, and yet he had never reached a point where he was not believed.

  “And remember, Luke,” he continued in a dark, gloomy tone, “what I showed you is just a glimpse at the future. There will be so much suffering, you can’t even comprehend it.”

  Luke moaned in anguish. What was he to do? Had he seen a shadow of the truth or just a whisper of lies? He loved Beth! Was there no other way?

  “Is that what you want for your sister?” Lucifer taunted as he stood over Luke. “Can you see now we must fight him? Do you have any choice? Will you fight for your sister? Have you the courage to join with us now?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luke spent that night in the Great Chamber, an honored guest of the Deceiver. Early the next morning, he was introduced to some of Lucifer’s most trusted lieutenants. Balaam watched from a dark corner as Luke was escorted down the Great Hallway, ready to start a new life with his friends.

  After Luke had passed, Balaam took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and went again to his Master. “I have done what you asked,” he said in a quiet voice. “And sir, I would also remind you that I am a man of great stature and esteem in this world. I am a gifted orator, respected by my peers. . . .”

  The Deceiver peered toward him, an incredulous look on his face. What was this? Was he hearing things? Could Balaam be such a fool?

  “And sir,” Balaam continued, missing the significance of Lucifer’s disbelieving stare, “you promised that if I convinced Luke to come, you would reward my success. You said that you were going to need men like me to stand at your side, to share the combinations that are so precious to you, the secret oaths and oblations that bring you such power. And remember, Great Master, Samuel was also my prize. There have been many others. My stable is constantly full. So, given these facts, haven’t I earned a reward?”

  Lucifer’s eyes began to narrow as his lips spread, pulling into an ugly frown that exposed his front teeth. “What are you saying?” he demanded in a menacing tone.

  “I’m saying, Master Mahan, that you and I had a deal.”

  “Then I must have been lying. Now leave me alone.”

  Balaam didn’t move, though his eyes burned with rage. “But you said, my dear Master . . . ”

  “I know what I said. But I was lying to you. Now go! I am busy. I have other men to deceive.”

  “You will not honor our agreement?”

  “I don’t honor anything! And I owe nothing to you. I lie. I deceive. Everyone does. It’s the way we operate; it’s the way things get done. Are you so naïve as to believe I would actually share my power? And my secret oaths and combinations are reserved for mortal men, men who would sacrifice their salvation for power and fame. Now get out of here, Balaam. I want you out of my sight.”

  “But sir . . . ”

  “Leave!” Lucifer shouted, his eyes beginning to bulge. He wouldn’t be questioned, not by this parasite! His hands began to quiver as he pointed to the great door.

  “But Master Mahan, you promised . . . ”

  Lucifer jumped toward him, a terrible look in his eyes. The room seemed to darken as he lifted his hand. He transfigured in an instant and Balaam stepped back in terror as Lucifer took on the form of a bloody pig’s head. The vision hovered before him, right in front of his face–narrow eyes, frothing snout, pink lips, and white tongue. “LEAVE ME!” the pig screamed at the top of his voice. “LEAVE ME, BALAAM, FOR I WON’T SUFFER FOOLS. YOU FORGET, BALAAM, THAT I AM THE KING OF THIS WORLD! I AM NOT BOUND BY YOUR BARGAINS, AND I DON’T TELL THE TRUTH.

  “NOW GO! DEPART FROM ME, OR I WILL HAVE YOU DESTROYED!”

  Balaam whimpered in terror as he crawled on all fours from the room. The pig’s head hovered behind him, snapping viciously at his heels. Bloody froth dripped below it, staining Balaam’s beautiful robe. He whimpered and cried as he crawled from the room.

  Entering the Great Corridor, Balaam found himself alone. He glanced behind him in terror, but the pig’s head was gone. He stumbled on weak knees to the corner and collapsed on the floor, crying in disappointment and frustration and fear.

  * * *

  As the night came on, Lucifer brewed alone on his throne. Something wasn’t right, he felt unease in his soul, and his evil instincts were screaming, making him feel fidgety and mean. He stood up and cursed, then paced back and forth. Finally, he called to one of his guards.

  “Go to the older brother,” he commanded.

  The guard hesitated. “Samuel?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course Samuel. Go to him, make him pack, and get him out of here. He is too close to his brother, and I don’t want Luke to see him right now. Neither one of these men is firmly on our side, and if they talk to each other, I can’t predict what they’ll say. Sam is too unpredictable–he has no allegiance to me. And Luke is uncertain; even he doesn’t know what he’ll do. It would be much better to keep them isolated and away from each other for now. So go to Sam and get him out of here before the coming day.”

  * * *

  Later that night, the soldier walked into Sam’s room without knocking on the door. It was a cramped and dingy apartment with no windows, little furniture, and black paint on the walls. The soldier stepped into the dark chamber, a large bag in his hand.

  “You’ve got to leave,” he said as he tossed the bag in Sam’s lap. “Pack your things. And hurry. He wants you out of here.”

  Samuel pushed himself up. “You treat me like a prisoner and I’m tired of it. There’s no reason for you to treat me this way.”

  The soldier glared at him angrily. “Yeah, well, I have my orders. That’s all I know.”

  “I’ve shown you no reason to doubt me.”

  “Sometimes the truth doesn’t show. And the Master doesn’t trust you; that much is pretty clear. He said I need to keep you close, watch and monitor what you do. And like I said, buddy, I just do what I’m told.”

  Sam glanced down at the roughly sewn bag that had fallen to his feet. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Somewhere far away. The Master wants you out of here by morning. Now quick, pack your things.”

  It didn’t take long. Then Sam was given instructions on where he should go. He set out on the road, walking alone in the dark.

  * * *

  As Samuel was packing his bag, far away to the west, Elizabeth looked up at Ammon with tears in her eyes, then back down at the note she held in her trembling hands. She struggled to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Never in her life had she felt such a soul-piercing pain. It cut her so deeply she wondered how she could sur
vive. Sam, her big brother–he had always been so strong. And now Luke. Oh, her Luke! When would this end?

  “He’s gone!” she cried numbly.

  Ammon nodded his head.

  “He’s gone,” she repeated.

  Ammon stared at the floor.

  Chapter Seventeen

  What do we do, Ammon?” Elizabeth begged, looking desperately for answers.

  Ammon thought in silence for a long time, then finally lifted his head. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he answered. He pushed himself up and moved toward Elizabeth, his eyes no longer defeated but determined and angry. The fighter had risen inside him, and he was ready to move. His back was tight, his shoulders square, his face animated and intense. “First thing,” he said, “we’re not going to sit here and feel sorry for ourselves. We’ve done that already and it doesn’t change anything. And we’re not going to sit around and feel sorry for our brothers, simply praying that one day they’ll have a sudden change of heart. It’s time to do something. We’re going after them. And something else, Beth, we’re not going to be scared anymore.” He pointed angrily east, toward the Great Liar’s cities. “I’m tired of being frightened. I think it’s time he was afraid of what we will do for a change!”

  Elizabeth moved toward him and brushed her hands across her face. “But Ammon, how will we find them? Out of billions of people, how will we know where to look? They could be anywhere! And we’ve already seen that if they don’t want us to find them, it is impossible.”

  “We’ll search every house if we have to,” Ammon answered. “We’ll knock on every door, stand on every street corner and ask everyone we meet. We’ll walk every alley, search every square, go to every city. I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if we are uncomfortable or made to feel like fools. I don’t care what we sacrifice; none of that matters now. The only thing that matters is our brothers. and we won’t stop until we find them. I promise you that.”

  “But even if we find them, there are no guarantees they’ll come back to our side.”

  “True, we can’t make them. But this much I can guarantee. We’ll force them to make a final decision while looking us in the eye. No more slipping away in the night, no more leaving without having the courage to tell us good-bye, no more secret notes or hiding behind a wall of new friends. We’re going to make them choose: Jehovah or Lucifer, their family or their friends, those who want their happiness or those who want them for pawns in their war. They have to choose either the plan of salvation or destruction, it’s as simple as that.

  “And if they choose the other, then at least we will know. And we can walk away knowing we are clean of the stain of their sins.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with a new light. She brushed her hair back, pushing it behind her ear, revealing completely the determined look on her face. There was no more confusion or doubt in her eyes. Ammon instantly recognized the look, and he knew there was no stopping her now. “If we can just find them,” she said. “Luke is so tenderhearted, he just got carried away, and there has to be more to Sam’s story than we know about. I just have this feeling . . . if we can only find them.”

  “Okay, then, let’s go,” Ammon said as he moved for the door. “We need to find someone who can help us. And I think I know where to start.”

  “Master Balaam?” Beth questioned, her voice suddenly tense.

  Ammon slowed and turned, his face flashing with anger. “Never Master Balaam! He’s the enemy now. He is as evil and corrupt as any man I have seen.”

  “I know that,” Beth replied. “But still he might be able to help us.”

  “I would never trust him.”

  “I’m not suggesting we trust him. I haven’t trusted him for some time now. But we don’t have to trust him to use him, you know.”

  Ammon was silent, his mouth frozen in surprise. Was this his little sister? Proposing a conspiracy? Ammon almost laughed. “Are you suggesting . . . ”

  “I’m suggesting that Master Balaam is a proud man. And if we can find him, if we are careful, we might use that pride.”

  Ammon thought a long moment. “You are clever, Beth, and I love how you think. But we can’t go to Balaam. He is poison to us now.”

  Beth started to argue, but stopped and instead reached for Ammon’s hand. “That’s fine. But we are going to find them. And we will bring them back. I can feel it, Ammon. I feel it here in my soul. We are going to find them, even if we have to do this alone.”

  Ammon placed his hand upon hers and pressed his lips together. “But there is someone who might help us,” he offered again.

  She looked at him skeptically.

  “Teancum,” he answered before she had time to ask. “He’s like a little fox, sneaking around here and there. He seems to have his own rules in the fight for the cause. And from what I hear . . . well, let’s just say he might know where to start.”

  “Teancum!” Beth cried, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “Oh no, I forgot! Since we found out about Luke, it completely slipped my mind.”

  “What?” Ammon demanded as his heart skipped a beat.

  Elizabeth looked down, embarrassed. How could she forget? But since finding the note from Luke, she hadn’t thought of anything else. Ammon moved toward her, reading the look in her eyes. She looked up and told him, “Teancum came here this morning. He was looking for you.”

  * * *

  Teancum pulled the door back and stood in the doorway, his enormous frame filling the empty space, his golden hair shining even in the dim evening light. He didn’t move for a moment as he summed the two young people up. “Hello,” he said in greeting. That was it, nothing more.

  Ammon glanced at Beth. “We’d like to talk to you,” he said.

  Teancum nodded and answered. “I thought you would be here earlier.” Beth looked embarrassed. “Did you tell him?” Teancum asked.

  “I didn’t remember until a few minutes ago.”

  “We need your help,” Ammon cut in. “We have a brother, two brothers . . . they are gone . . .”

  “Yeah, I’m very sorry. I heard about Luke not long ago.”

  Ammon paused, uncomfortable, then stared at his hands. He thought of the dream, and what Michael had said. He thought of the white school, the pink sweater, and the anonymous boy. Michael had given him a warning, and still he had failed. Inside he was churning, almost sickened from grief. He’d been warned about Luke, and still he had failed.

  But it wasn’t too late. He would fight for him now.

  Ammon thought a long moment, and Teancum watched him carefully. The silence grew uncomfortable until Elizabeth stepped forward and said, “We’ve heard you might be able to help us. We’ve heard you’ve been, you know, over there . . . ”

  Teancum flashed a quick smile. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been there. I’ve scaled their walls and slinked around in the dark. I’ve listened to their conversations and talked to their guards. I’ve been inside his new fortress, right there under his nose, right there in his chamber and the Great Hall. And let me tell you,” he laughed, clearly proud of himself, “that ol’ boy isn’t as bright as people make him out to be. He gets a little sloppy, a little too full of himself.” Teancum laughed again and then stopped suddenly. “Well, that’s probably enough,” he mumbled, suddenly sheepish. “Let’s just say that you’re right. I know a little bit of their city, maybe more than anyone.”

  Ammon nodded with excitement. “We are going to find our brothers,” he said.

  Teancum cocked his head knowingly. “I suspected you would.”

  “Do you think you can help us?”

  “I can’t go with you, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s not what we’re asking.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “We need to know where to look. We need to know about their cities, and where we should start. I’ve been there too, but I only scratched the surface. It sounds like you’ve gone pretty deep.”

  Teancum reached out and pu
lled them inside. “Come on in,” he said quickly. “I have to show you something. It’s almost over now, and it’s time you knew.”

  They sat around a small table. A smoky fire burned in the fireplace, and the room smelled of apples and pine. It was an old stone and wood house, with ancient beams on the ceilings, dark wooden floors, and a row of tall windows that looked out on a grassy orchard, the trees casting shadows in the nearly full moon. “Tell me about Luke,” Teancum said as the three young people sat down.

  Beth explained quickly.

  “So he left sometime last night?”

  “As far as we can tell. But I didn’t find the note until this afternoon.”

  “You realize if you were to ask Michael, he would forbid you to go. He would say you’re too young and it’s too dangerous now.”

  Ammon didn’t answer. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But you have been there,” he answered. “And I have too. And we returned safely.”

  “Not since the last council. He has grown in such power, it isn’t safe anymore. Things are happening very quickly, all of the buildup is ready to break. And there isn’t any reason to cross the battle lines now. The enemy has become so entrenched in his bitterness and hate that little good comes from talking to them anymore. Our missionaries, all our agents, have been ordered home.” Teancum paused suddenly, a knowing look in his eyes. Ammon didn’t catch it, but Elizabeth did. “The end will come soon,” he concluded. “They are ripe to be destroyed.”

  Ammon pushed back his hair, then folded his arms. “But you still cross the lines, don’t you, Teancum?” he prodded.

  Teancum hesitated. “There are some things we still need to know,” he replied.

  “So you do then?”

  Teancum didn’t answer, and so Ammon knew. “Have you been over recently?” he pressed.

  “Pretty recent, I guess.”

  “How long ago now?”

  Teancum leaned back and rolled his fingers on the table. “Oh, I don’t know, let’s see, it was . . . last night, I guess.” Elizabeth’s eyes opened in wonder and she took a deep breath. Teancum glanced toward her and smiled with pride. Ammon didn’t react, for he wasn’t surprised. Leaning forward, he asked, “Did Michael know you were going?”