Suzy looked up. “Why would God keep Adam and Eve from the Tree of Knowledge?”
“I suppose God wants to protect us from things we can’t understand,” Kayla said, feeling guilt fill her with anxiety.
“What’s wrong with understanding the difference between good and evil?” Suzy asked.
Her brother sneered. “You’re so dense! If it weren’t for Eve being tricked by the Devil, we’d still be living in paradise!” The boy jerked the beetle’s last leg off.
Suzy glared at her brother. “A demon nearly as powerful as God tricked Eve. But Adam was fooled by an ordinary girl—so who’s the real dummy?”
Her brother reddened. He held his fist up, then smashed the beetle with a squishy bang. Suzy ignored him. Failing to get a reaction, James stuck out his tongue and ran outside, slamming the leather-hinged door.
Matthew peered into the kitchen from the next room, eyebrow raised. Kayla brushed the murdered beetle from the table and nodded to her young protégé to resume.
Suzy read the description of Eve giving in to the Serpent’s temptation. “And the Lord God said, ‘Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live forever.’ ”
Again, Suzy stopped. “What does God mean by us? It sounds like he’s talking to other gods like himself and they’re afraid humans will become gods too.” Suzy appraised the book with troubled eyes. “It sounds like the snake told Eve the truth.”
“Maybe God was speaking to the angels in Heaven,” Kayla said, “or to different aspects of himself, like the Holy Spirit?”
Through the door, Matthew frowned.
“But why would he worry if people turned into angels or spirits?”
Kayla hesitated. Could the forbidden Tree of Knowledge and Eternal Life be symbolic of knowledge beyond humans’ ability to control? Maybe the story was God’s way of warning humans against the dangers of technology. Of course, it could be nothing more than primitive
man’s rationale for the existence of suffering and death. But if the story was symbolic, that would render the Garden of Eden nothing but a fable. Her heart constricted at the implication.
Suzy frowned. “How do we know God really exists?”
Kayla’s mouth dropped open.
Matthew thundered into the room. “Don’t you dare question God!”
Suzy gazed at him in shock. “I only asked, Papa.”
Every muscle in Kayla’s body tensed. Why had Suzy said such a thing?
“Who put such a doubt in your head?” Matthew demanded.
Maria came to the doorway, wringing her hands.
Suzy’s lower lip trembled.
Kayla’s breath caught. Her entire future hinged on the next few words of this nine-year-old child.
“N-no one, Papa. I just …” A tear slid down Suzy’s cheek, followed by others.
Kayla put her arms around Suzy’s shoulders and rocked her. “This is the most important lesson you can ever learn,” she said. “We must never doubt God.” Kayla stroked her hair. “God loves you more than anything in the universe, and he will take care of you if you put your trust in him completely.”
Matthew nodded and Maria’s face brightened.
“You listen to Kayla,” Maria said.
Suzy wiped her tears and smiled. “Okay, Momma. I will.”
As the little girl stared into her eyes and smiled, a loving warmth filled Kayla. She hadn’t lost her new family after all. She’d experienced God’s wrath for her disobedience, but had now benefited from his mercy and forgiveness. The Carrolls served as an example of what life could be like for those who put their faith completely in Him.
Chapter 4
On Easter Sunday morning, Kayla sat in the cabin she shared with the monk and prepared for the procession. With ritualistic care, she braided her hair with purple ribbons symbolizing the kingship of Jesus. The white of her Easter dress represented purity and grace, as did the single lily all the unmarried girls of the village would carry. She was neither graceful nor pure, but Jesus welcomed every repentant sinner, no matter their imperfections.
From the distant cemetery, voices rose in songs of praise, and she softy accompanied them.
“Jesus, thou everlasting king,
accept the tribute which we bring;
accept thy well-deserved renown,
and wear our praises as thy crown...”
The monk hobbled through the door with a basket of flowers for her nearly completed headpiece—red azaleas symbolizing the blood of the Savior, and bright yellow daffodils representing the dawning of hope with the conquest of death on the third day.
“You shouldn’t tire yourself,” she said.
“This is your big day, so I wanted to contribute.”
A coughing fit bent him double. Kayla struggled to her feet and helped him to his bed, then took a seat beside him.
“Old age is an amazing sensation,” he said, wheezing and out of breath. “I think everyone should have a chance to experience it at least once.”
They sat quietly for a time, the joyous songs drifting through the open door like spirits.
“You better go soon or you’ll miss the procession,” he said.
“Maybe I should stay here in case you need me.”
“Nonsense, I’ll be fine. Maria spent a lot of time making your Easter dress.”
A songbird alighted in the circular window of the loft.
“That’s a cinnamon-chested bee-eater,” the monk said with a smile. “My father loved birds and taught me all their names.”
“Your father? Was he a healer too?”
“My parents were simple farmers like most in Potemia. Good, loving people—and extremely pious.” He touched the wooden cross hanging around his neck.
“Then who taught you healing?”
“That I learned from the ancient books. But I did have one teacher who influenced me more than any other. He changed the course of my life and made me who I am today.”
“Did he teach you sciencecraft?” Even here, in their own home, Kayla lowered her voice as she spoke the dangerous words.
“Yes, he taught me what you’d call sciencecraft, but we had a falling out, and he came to believe such things are evil.” He held a cloth to his mouth and coughed. “My teacher came to view technology as too dangerous for humans.”
“I thought you agreed?”
“Not completely. After all, I use healing sciencecraft,” he said. “A hammer can be used to destroy or to build.”
“You made it seem like I sinned by taking the books in the desert.”
“I wanted you to realize the enormity of the choice.”
“Everyone is so certain that all science-magic is bad.”
“Not everyone,” he said. “Surely you can think of some who disagree?”
“You mean those who chose to remain outside the Wall?”
He nodded, and Kayla lapsed into silence. The bird sounded a goodbye note and flew away. She gazed through the vacated window at the sky beyond.
“Would you put on your Easter wreath for me?”
After adding the flowers he’d brought, she arranged her braids and set the joyous crown atop her head. She lowered a few leaves across the left of her face to hide her scars.
Setting her crutch aside, she presented herself in full Easter regalia.
“You look angelic, my daughter.”
A warm sensation bloomed in her chest and expanded. It was the first time he called her his daughter. She resumed her seat beside his bed, her eyes grateful.
“I will not be around forever,” he said. “Have you thought about what you’d like to do when I’m gone?”
She frowned. “I suppose I’ll become a teacher. Without Ishan, or you … what else can I do?”
“I’m not asking you what others would have you do. I’m asking what you want to do.”
“What I want? Do I have a choice?”
“T
here’s always a choice,” he said. “You’re seventeen now. If you could do anything, what would you choose?”
“I … I suppose I’d want to see what’s beyond the Wall.” She flushed and shook her head. “But I could never do that.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Well, because …” Her gaze drifted to the woodpile where her secret lay in the compartment beneath. “I guess I’m afraid.”
The monk shook his head. “Fear was the cornerstone of Potemia. The Founder sought to protect us from our greatest fears, but safety also has a price.”
Was this another of his riddles?
“Now go to the Easter Procession,” he said. “I insist.”
She hugged him and stood. “Okay, but I’ll be right back—”
A hammering fist pounded the door, followed by Maria’s strained voice. “Get the monk, Kayla. Suzy is dying!”
Kayla rushed to unbar the door, and Maria staggered in, carrying Suzy in her arms. She settled her moaning daughter on the oak table.
“She’s been sick the past two days,” Maria said, her eyes desperate. “I stayed home while Matthew took James to the Easter procession, but she got much worse in the past hour.”
Kayla pressed her hand against Suzy’s lower right abdomen, and the girl moaned.
Appendicitis?
Better not mention the possibility to Maria, since there was no cure—at least none within the law.
Kayla ushered Maria outside the cabin. “Wait here while I assist the monk.”
After locking the door, she helped the monk out of bed and over to the sick girl. When they reached Suzy, he shook his head. “They waited too long to bring her here. We can’t risk operating.”
“But you must!” Kayla pleaded. “I love her.”
“The appendix may have already burst. If we operate and she dies, there will be no way to hide what we’ve done. The penalty for both of us would be death. Think of all who will die if neither of us is here to care for them.”
Suzy’s eyes opened and gazed beyond her delirium. “Kayla?”
“I’m here, Suzy.” She smoothed the little girl’s hair back from her burning forehead.
“I’m not worried since you said God protects those who believe.” Suzy’s eyes drifted shut, her breathing labored.
Kayla’s insides twisted. “We have to save her.”
“If she dies naturally, no one will blame you.” He stared hard into her face. “But if we operate and she dies, they will say we killed her—both of us—with sciencecraft.”
In the distance, the hymns of the gathering villagers floated through the window, proclaiming the Savior’s triumph over death. She stood on the brink of finally gaining their acceptance.
The price of membership was Suzy’s death.
What choice did she have? After all, hadn’t God ordained this?
“No,” she said. “I won’t trade Suzy’s life for my happiness.”
The barest of smiles creased the monk’s lips.
Heart pounding, she retrieved the medical supplies from a trunk and administered the chloroform.
After sterilizing the site with iodine, the monk sliced through the skin and exposed the organs underneath. One of Kayla’s books contained drawings by Leonardo da Vinci that depicted the body as a complex machine. Were humans themselves nothing more than God’s science experiment?
A severed vessel spurted blood across the front of her Easter dress, but she ignored it and sealed the leak with a clamp. The monk reached into the gaping wound and extracted the offending organ. Kayla clamped off both ends, and he cut it free. When the swollen appendix exited the cavity, the monk exhaled.
“It hasn’t burst yet, thank God. Let’s sew her up quickly.”
Suzy would live! Had it been God’s test of her willingness to sacrifice her own safety for another? How could she have imagined God would allow Suzy to die?
A fierce pounding shook the cabin door, and the blood drained from Kayla’s face.
Matthew’s voice thundered like the arrival of Judgment Day. “Let me see my daughter, damn you, or I’ll smash this door to pieces!”
Kayla pulled off her surgical mask, grabbed her crutch, and hobbled to the door. She opened it a crack and faced Matthew. “Please, Mr. Carroll, the monk has found the problem and is treating it. Suzy will be fine.”
Matthew’s face softened. But then his gaze descended to Kayla’s blood-stained fingers. “What have you done to my daughter!”
The door exploded open and knocked Kayla to the floor.
Matthew charged inside. His naked child lay atop the table, her flesh peeled back from her intestines. A low moan wrung from his chest. His muscular farmer’s body towered Goliath-like over the monk. The smell of freshly plowed dirt clung to him despite his Sunday clothing. His powerful hands balled into fists.
Maria dashed to her husband’s side and jerked to a stop. She screamed, knees buckling. Matthew grabbed her around the waist to keep her upright.
“What demonic ritual …?” Maria said.
Kayla struggled to her feet. Suzy’s blood covered the front of her Easter dress in a gruesome display of her guilt.
The monk simply continuing suturing blood vessels. “Your daughter’s appendix nearly burst. We had to remove it to save her life.” He snipped the end of the stitch, removed a clamp, and moved to the next one.
“Leave my daughter alone!” Matthew roared. He shoved the monk aside and yanked the chloroform mask off his child’s face.
“She’ll wake up without that!” Kayla limped forward and placed a bloody hand on his forearm. “Please, listen to me—”
“I should have listened to those who warned that Satan marked you.” Matthew lifted his daughter off the table.
“Stop!” Maria’s voice quavered with desperation.
“I’m taking my child from this den of evil sciencecraft.”
“She will die in agony if you don’t let me finish the operation,” the monk said, leaning on the back of a chair.
“I would rather her die pure and go to her eternal salvation in Heaven, than live a thousand years on this Earth and be damned to Hell in the next world.” With that, Matthew carried his child to the door. Suzy moaned, and her eyes opened, meeting Kayla’s.
“No, Matthew, please!” Maria shrieked, going to her knees and raising her clasped hands in supplication. “Don’t take my daughter from me!”
“Maria!” His voice snapped like a whip. “I will not defy God’s laws! What good is it to save her life in this world and send her soul to Satan for all of eternity?”
With those words, he strode from the room with his daughter in his arms. Maria staggered after, praying aloud for God’s intercession.
Kayla stumbled after them, chest heaving and blood staining her hands and dress. I can’t let Suzy die. I can’t!
They reached the foot of the hill, where the colorfully festooned parishioners gathered atop the cemetery known as God’s Acre. Hundreds of tombstones marked the remains of the first settlers of the village from centuries before. A large cross stood at the center of the hill, a purple cloth draped over it in memory of the risen Christ. The villagers encircled this symbol of death and eternal life, their voices raised in song.
“There’s power in the blood, power in the blood.
Sin’s stains are lost in its life-giving flow.
There’s wonderful power in the blood.”
Matthew carried his naked and bloody child up the hill. The song died on the lips of the townsfolk as they witnessed the gruesome spectacle mirroring the lyrics of their hymn. A pathway opened through the crowd, and screams of horror rang out from many. Minister Coglin stood at the base of the cross. Matthew stopped before him.
“Please, Reverend,” Matthew said. “My Suzy needs your holy intercession.”
The minister surveyed the bloody hole with the steel clamps protruding like bizarre instruments of torture. His face contorted with such wrath that several parishioners stepped back from
him.
“What demon did this?” he asked.
Gasping for breath, Kayla fought her way through the crowd and collapsed to her knees before the minister. “I can save her. Please, don’t let her die for my sins.”
The minister’s gaze scoured her deformed face, then went to her twisted foot. “Abomination,” he said. “You should never have been allowed to live, and now we must pay the price for our sacrilege.”
The minister turned to Suzy and removed the clamps. Blood geysered upward, and a woman fainted.
Suzy screamed. The sound sliced through Kayla’s mind like a scythe, and she pressed her hands over her ears to shut it out. The unending shrieks of agony shredded her defenses. They went on and on and on.
“My God!” Matthew moaned, his arms trembling as he held his flailing daughter out to the minister like a sacrificial lamb. Blood poured down his forearms and pooled at his feet.
Minister Coglin had Elias hold the flaps of the wound together while he snatched the purple cloth from the cross. Several men stepped forward and grabbed Suzy’s hands and feet to keep her still as the minister wrapped the symbol of Christ’s resurrection around and around her midsection. This stopped the bleeding, though Suzy’s screams continued.
Minister Coglin led the faithful in prayer, asking the Lord in his supreme compassion to intervene and save this most innocent of his flock. Suzy’s screams lessened, then trailed off. Her eyes opened once more.
“Papa, Momma?”
Maria embraced her child and cried joyful tears.
“Thank you, Lord!” Minister Coglin raised his hands in praise, and many in the crowd fell to their knees, hands clasped. Someone began singing, and others joined in. Even Kayla sang in praise of the miracle.
“Praise him, praise him, all ye little children.
God is love, God is love.”
The song trailed off as Suzy’s head drooped. Matthew knelt beside her and cradled her face in his large hands. He stared into her dimming eyes and cried. The bandage around her stomach had gone crimson, the blood pooling beneath her like a baptismal.
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