Soul's Gate

by James L. Rubart

  “The final lesson is learning to love. The lesson is discovering that within you lies the willingness to lay down your life for others. That is love. That is what you have done. All of you.”

  Brandon’s breathing slowed as he glanced at Marcus. The professor’s face was gaunt and full of pain.

  “What’s wrong?” He followed Marcus’s gaze to Reece, who slid his hand away from covering his eyes. No. It couldn’t be. His eye sockets were seared as if a white-hot piece of iron had been shoved into each of them. Blood around the outside of the sockets had already dried, and nothing remained of Reece’s eyes but two black-charred orbs.

  “Reece, I don’t understand . . .” He had no words. Brandon looked at the others and the despair on their faces told him they didn’t either.

  “I don’t understand why the darkness either.”

  He didn’t know? How could he not know what had happened? Was he in too much shock to realize?

  Reece tried to sit up and collapsed back on the sand. “Time to get out of here. I’ll see you three on the other side. Take hands.”

  An instant later the sand, the sky, Reece—all vanished. The chair Brandon sat on at Well Spring seemed to push up into his legs, telling him they were back in the real world . . . no, not the real world, the physical world. Brandon grabbed the edges of his chair to steady himself as a cool breeze floated up from the river and pressed into his sweat-soaked T-shirt. Dana sat forward in her chair, blinking, breathing slowly through narrowed lips, tears welling up.

  “Did you see his eyes? They’re gone!” Brandon stared over the river into the mountains, his face warm, disbelief pounding against him. “We have to get to the hospital.”

  “Why?”

  “To make sure he’s come out of the coma.” Brandon stood and walked to the edge of the patio, then spun back toward them. “To see if he still has his sight.”

  “He doesn’t, Brandon,” Marcus said.

  “Just because he lost his sight inside his soul doesn’t mean the same thing happened in the physical world.”

  Dana stood and shuffled toward him. “That’s exactly what it means.”

  “How do you know?”

  She stared at him. “Brandon, think what happened to your arms when you went into my soul and rescued me.” She pointed down. “Look at your arms and legs right now.”

  He scraped at the blood hardening on his pants and shirt.

  “We don’t know for sure.” Brandon paced back and forth across the limestone and stopped on the edge overlooking the river.

  Marcus joined them on the edge of the listening post. “Then let’s get cleaned up and return to Seattle and find out—one way or another.”

  They arrived at the hospital at three o’clock Saturday afternoon. Dana sat on the sofa in the lobby praying for Brandon, for Marcus, for herself. As the doctor ambled out of the elevator she spotted the three of them and clipped over, her face a mixture of puzzlement and concern.

  “What’s his condition?”

  “He came out of the coma this morning and we thought things were fine. He talked to us briefly, then almost immediately went into a deep sleep, which is not uncommon.”

  She pressed her lips together and pulled her chart tight into her chest. “Then he started thrashing about in his sleep. We gave him a mild sedative that calmed him down until . . .” She trailed off, the bewildered look surfacing again on her face.

  “What happened?” Brandon leaned in toward her.

  “There’s no explanation for it.” She glanced at each of them. “I’m afraid your friend has been blinded.”

  Dana closed her eyes as her chin drooped to her chest. Unbelievable. But why was she surprised? She’d told Brandon this would happen. But she’d held on to the sliver of hope that this time would be different. That because it was Reece Roth, he would be okay.

  “How?” Marcus said.

  The doctor rubbed the edge of her pen along the top of her clipboard. “We don’t understand it. One moment he was sleeping, his breathing steady, the next he’s screaming and clutching his eyes. When we pulled his hands away it was as if—”

  “A branding iron had been shoved into each eye.” Dana stared out the window and watched a stiff wind bending the fir trees outside the hospital.

  “Yes.” She frowned at her. “That’s exactly what it was like. We’ve run every test we could think of and even called in an ophthalmologist, and he is as baffled as we are as to what happened.”

  “Can we see him?”

  “Tomorrow, yes. We are keeping him under close observation.”

  “When will he be able to leave?”

  The doctor stared at Dana, then looked at Marcus and Brandon. “Physically he’ll be able to leave as early as tomorrow night, but on a practical level his life is going to be radically different—a life that will take months to adjust to. At some point he might be able to live alone again, but there’s no telling how long that will take. I’m sorry.”

  As they left the hospital, Brandon scrubbed the back of his head. “I’m sure you two are struggling with this as much as I am. Since we’ve been up for thirty-two hours I should be exhausted, but with Reece on my mind sleep will elude me for a few more.”

  “I feel the same,” the professor said. “Shall we gather at the fire pit? Dana?”

  Dana nodded. Something told her it was a good idea to stay together a little longer.

  FIFTY-TWO

  MARCUS STOOD WITH BRANDON AND DANA AND STARED at the growing flames as more of the wood in Reece’s fire pit was engulfed, the aroma of smoke spreading over the backyard. A fine mist dropped out of the slate-gray sky and covered the grass and trees in moisture and silence. No birds sang. No wind caressed their faces as the reality of the battle sank in.

  A great victory. At a terrible price. Each of them said a few words. They didn’t need to say more. There was comfort in the quiet. Where would they go from here? What would happen to their training? What would this do to Reece?

  Marcus looked up at the ring of maple trees along the back edge of Reece’s land. A fitting cathedral for questions that couldn’t be answered. The only sounds were Dana’s soft sobs and the ripping of his own heart.

  “How is he going to lead us now?” Brandon asked.

  “Maybe we’re supposed to lead him,” Dana said.

  Brandon kicked at the stones surrounding the fire pit. “I don’t think that’s the way it works.”

  A squiggle of rain wound its way down marcus’s neck. He didn’t bother to brush it away. It was a kiss. Of pain. of life. of grief. of hope. A tear from the eye of God. Living water.

  I am in this.

  How could God be in this? Marcus waited for the Spirit to tell him, but no answer came. Brandon tilted his head back and sang, his voice just above a whisper. It looked like his eyes were closed. The haunting melody stirred peace and sorrow in equal measure and Marcus soaked it deep into his soul.

  A warrior riding, a warrior broken,

  Wounds are healed and freedom spoken,

  The price of battle, so high a cost,

  Dreams are born, and dreams are lost,

  Ever onward, no more in hiding,

  We are four, the Warriors Riding.

  By the time Brandon had repeated it twice, tears slid down Marcus’s cheeks. It didn’t make sense to be this torn up inside. It wasn’t like the man was dead. But Reece Roth without his piercing blue eyes? Him not being able to gaze on the mountains of Well Spring, to see the sun fire the river full of diamonds on early summer mornings?

  “I ache for him. I . . .” Dana’s voice caught and she didn’t finish.

  No one responded. No one needed to. The three stood for another . . . Marcus didn’t know how long. A minute? An hour? He was about to suggest moving inside when something dark flashed in his peripheral vision far to the left. Marcus whipped his head up. A man stood on the edge of the woods seventy yards away. “Nine o’clock, friends. On point.”

  They turned as one and
Marcus took a step ahead of Brandon and Dana. “Speak to me. What are you seeing?”

  “Darkness. All around him.” Brandon stepped forward to Marcus’s side. “Not thinking this party crasher is human.”

  “My assessment is the same.” Marcus turned to Dana. “What are you sensing?”

  “He’s clearly demonic.”

  The man strolled toward them as if he were walking through Bothell’s Blythe Park on a lazy Sunday afternoon, a placid smile on his face. He twirled a varnished walking stick in a wide arc, then pointed it at them when he was twenty yards away.

  “Hello, my lovely friends.”

  His hair was dark, parted on the side; average features, average height, average build. He could be a thousand men. One hundred thousand. He seemed familiar. It was in the eyes. Three images flashed through Marcus’s mind. The usher at the church service. The man who had slipped into the back of his class unseen. The man who was in Reece’s memory when the three of them watched the killing of his wife and daughter. Anger surged in Marcus’s chest. And a sense of power far greater than he’d ever felt.

  He glanced at Dana and Brandon. The expression on both their faces said they recognized the man as well. It was Zennon. The demon stopped ten yards away and opened his arms—his smile even wider. “Good evening. At least it will be for seven more hours.” He pulled back his jacket sleeve and the navy blue shirt underneath, revealing a thin white watch. “Ah, I was wrong. Six hours and thirtynine minutes. I enjoy this human penchant for keeping track of the seconds.”

  The man lowered his arms and stabbed the point of the walking stick into the grass at his feet. “Do you mind terribly if I join you?”

  “All indicators say you already have.” Marcus took a step forward, as did Dana and Brandon.

  “This is true.” The man laughed and slid his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Look at you. My, my. The three of the prophecy, singing songs, enjoying the exquisite evening together.”

  “What do you want?” Marcus said.

  “Why, isn’t it obvious?” He motioned to his right toward Reece’s home. “To offer my condolences on the tragic disfigurement of your meddlesome mentor.”

  “We know what you are, Zennon,” Brandon said.

  “Or should we call you Alexis?” Dana said.

  “I have no name. Not really.” The man gave them a mock frown. “I think you’ve realized this, no?” Zennon took a step to the right and gazed up at the maples. “I must convey my congratulations on your victory.” He turned and gave a slight bow. “We didn’t anticipate you being as strong as you turned out to be.”

  Zennon stepped back to the left, lifted his head, and fixed his black eyes on them one at a time, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. He placed it on the back of his hand and rolled it across his fingers, then flicked it into the air. He caught it in his other hand and squeezed it till his hand turned white.

  “But now you have our attention. Full attention. And not just mine.” The demon pointed at each of them, then made a circle in the air above his head with his forefinger. “You are now known at higher echelons of our organization.” Zennon raised his hand and fingers toward them as if to attack.

  A chill washed over Marcus but he batted it aside. Not anymore. He glanced at Brandon and Dana. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  They both nodded. He turned back to Zennon and pointed his finger at the demon as he took another step forward. “Go, in the name of Jesus and by his blood and his authority. You are cast down, defeated, and have no power over us.”

  Zennon shuddered and stumbled back—but a moment later confidence and contempt filled his face. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  Brandon’s voice filled the air to Marcus’s left as the musician joined him stride for stride. “Jesus Christ is Lord. He is King. He is the Morning Star, His eyes are full of fire and a sword is in his hand. All rule in heaven and on earth has been given to him and we claim that power against you now.”

  Zennon staggered back another few steps as Dana called out from Marcus’s right.

  “He is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end of all things. There is lightning in his hands and he is crushing his enemies. We bind you in the name of Christ. Leave us!”

  Frustration and fear flitted across Zennon’s face as he slowly backed away. “Do you really want to bring this on yourselves? Do you really want to take on this battle? Do you truly realize what you’re about to set in motion? It’s not over.”

  A voice behind them called out, clear and powerful. “No more lies, Zennon. It is over. Go now or we will destroy you.”

  Zennon glanced behind them and rage filled his face.

  “Go!”

  As the word rang out, Zennon vanished and Marcus and the others spun around.

  Reece stood twenty yards behind them, sunglasses covering his eyes, his hand on the shoulder of another man. Dana sprinted to him and wrapped her arms around the big man and pressed her head into his chest. Marcus and Brandon jogged over and joined her.

  “What are you doing here?” Marcus said.

  He grinned. “You didn’t think I’d let you three have all the fun, did you?”

  Brandon pointed south. “But the hospital . . . we thought they weren’t going to let you out till tomorrow night at the earliest.”

  Reece smiled again. “I convinced them otherwise.”

  “How are you . . . ?” Marcus didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

  “I’m free.” Reece adjusted his glasses, then turned to the short silver-haired man beside him. “I’d like you to meet Doug Lundeen, whom you’ve met previously, but not in the conventional way.”

  Marcus smiled. It felt strange to shake the hand of a man he’d been inside the soul of, but at the same time it felt like the most natural thing in the world. After greeting Doug they all ambled over to Reece’s deck and sat in a circle.

  Silence lingered for a few moments till Reece patted his legs. “Go ahead, ask the question, I know you want to.”

  Dana leaned forward. “Your eyes . . . how will you—?”

  “It’s okay, Dana.” Reece patted Dana’s hands. “Doug will be staying with me for a while and help me do some rearranging inside the house. And he’ll coach me on how to get around the place without taking out my kneecaps and forehead till I get used to my new condition. Blind people live alone all over the world.”

  Dana glanced at the others. “No, what I meant was—”

  “I know what you meant.” He patted her hand again. “We’ll talk about that more when the time is right. It’s okay. In the meantime, do you remember what the prophecy says? ‘And for one, their vision will grow clear . . .’ I am going to assume that means me.”

  “Grow clear?” Dana said. “Meaning your blindness will be healed?”

  “That’s my hope, but I don’t know. But it is an assurance to me that he is utterly and completely in this.”

  “Wait a second.” Brandon frowned. “Throw that train in reverse. You just applied the prophecy to yourself. Tamera isn’t the temple? Are you saying you’re one of the four?”

  Reece pulled back his hat, then opened his arms. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You’re stuck with me for the long run.”

  Joy spilled over Marcus and he saw it on the faces of Brandon and Dana as well. For the next hour they told Doug the story of being inside Reece’s soul, celebrated that their leader was one of the four, and thanked the Spirit for all he had brought them through together.

  Finally Reece clasped his hands and took a deep breath. “Friends, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. I would enjoy going on for many more hours, but my body has been through a bit of trauma and it’s telling me to rest. I must obey. But before we part, I’d like to get a final thought from Doug. He’s been a spiritual mentor to me for many years and he has much wisdom to offer.”

  Doug stared at the wood decking for a few moments, then raised his head and looked at e
ach of them. “Are you beginning to believe? Are you starting to accept who you are?” He didn’t wait for an answer and pointed at Dana. “You are the leader.”

  Dana shook her head. “I still don’t see—”

  Brandon’s laughter stopped her. “Are you kidding? You’re the one who took the lead in getting us back to the fire pit to hear Reece’s story, then you led us into his soul, led in his healing, then led in bringing God’s fire down as I floundered about what to do. Don’t you see it?” He motioned to the others. “We all do.”

  Marcus grinned as acceptance and wonder flashed on Dana’s face. Brandon was so right. She was the leader. Just as Reece was the temple, bringing healing to Dana’s, Brandon’s, and his heart in a way he could never have imagined when this journey began.

  Doug smiled at Brandon. “And I would surmise that when Marcus demonstrated to you that he is indeed the teacher, you came to a full understanding that you are indeed the song.”

  “This is true.” Brandon grinned.

  “You all must know who you are.” Doug’s face grew serious and he pointed to his heart. “In here. The wolf has risen, and your battle comes quickly.”

  Brandon glanced at Reece, then back to Doug. “So is now the time we get to know about who the wolf is and what we have to do?”

  “Soon we will speak to you of it in detail.” His somber countenance vanished and was replaced with one of joy. “But for now let us rejoice in that which he has bestowed on the four of you.”

  Doug clasped his hands together. “One final question. Have each of you found gratification in what has been placed upon your plate since going to Well Spring?”

  “Most assuredly,” Marcus said.

  Dana closed her eyes, smiled, and nodded. “Oh yes.”

  “Brandon?” Doug said.

  “Are you kidding? My world’s been totally rocked with revelation and revolution. It’ll never be the same now that we’ve traveled the path of freedom.”