Eye of the Oracle (50 page)

Timothy squinted at her. “You sound like you did in the old days.”

“I spoke that way intentionally.” She rubbed her thumb along his knuckles. “Let us retrieve our dragon courage and speak plainly.”

Timothy’s gaze followed the buzzing fly as it flitted from ceiling, to wall, to bedpost. “I heard from Patrick this morning. I risked contacting him because it had been five years since we’d heard from him.” He shook his head sadly. “Still no sign of Gabriel. No one has seen him in almost forty years.”

Clenching her eyes shut, Hannah covered her mouth and bit her finger.

Gabriel surged down to her side and stroked her hair with his radiant hand. He glanced at the door. The courier was late. The computer should have sent the telegram over two hours ago. Gabriel gazed at his fingers, each one etched with jagged lines of energy. Using those clumsy digits to manipulate a computer through electronic impulses was a new skill. His earliest experiments had often failed, and he had to cut his message short before he ran out of power. Still, it would do, at least for now . . . if the courier ever showed up.

Timothy clasped Hannah’s hand with both of his. “Gabriel was old enough to hide on his own. Maybe he’s ”

“He was only thirteen when he disappeared!” Hannah countered.

A knock sounded at the door. “Telegram for Hannah Drake.”

Gabriel breathed a radiant sigh. Perfect timing.

Timothy returned from the door, opening a Western Union envelope. Deep creases etched his forehead. “It’s a telegram from Glasgow.”

“More bad news?”

He shook the page in front of her. “It’s good news! Excellent news! But I’m not sure how to interpret it.”

“Don’t just stand there!” Hannah cried, trembling. “Read it to me!”

Timothy raised the paper to his eyes and cleared his throat. “Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. May she live in peace and learn the secret behind the Oracles of Fire. Signed, Gabriel.”

Hannah slapped the bed rail. “Gabriel? Then he’s alive!”

Timothy leaned over and kissed her with a loud smack. “Yes!” he shouted, rising again with her hand clasped in his. “He must be!”

Hannah made a shushing sound, but her laughter washed it away.

Timothy laid a hand over the baby. “Careful,” he said, “you’ll jiggle Ashley.”

With a wide smile still gracing her lips, Hannah pointed at the telegram. “Do you know what he meant by the secret behind the Oracles of Fire?”

“I told you about meeting Sapphira in Dragons’ Rest.” He folded the telegram and stuck it in his shirt pocket. “I never saw her again.”

“Could the secret be how to get her to open the portal to Dragons’ Rest without destroying it? Maybe there’s still a way to save Roxil . . . or, Jasmine, I guess I should call her now.”

“And save all the others, for that matter.” He tapped his finger on the note. “But if he knows the secret, why wouldn’t he just tell us?”

“Maybe he knows there is a secret, but he doesn’t know what it is.”

Timothy wrapped his fingers tightly around the bed rail. “If there was only some way to contact him. He must be in terrible danger if he won’t come out of hiding to explain.”

Hannah hugged Ashley close. “But he’s alive!” she said, tears streaming. “After all these years, he’s alive! And since he knows we’re in Montana, maybe he’ll join us and help us look for Irene. He might know where she is, too.”

“Let’s not go too far.” Timothy rubbed her forearm. “It’s not like he’s that fly on the wall.”

Hannah laid a finger over her lips. “Right. One step at a time.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Too much information will make your brain choke.”

Gabriel expanded again to his full size and let his radiance glow brightly. He shared their ecstasy, rejoicing with them the only way he knew how silently, invisibly, yet with all the joy he could muster.

He lowered his glowing hand to Ashley’s cheek. As he caressed her pink skin, she turned back toward him and gazed directly into his eyes. She smiled and gurgled.

“Did you hear that?” Timothy said. “She’s happy Gabriel’s alive, too!”

Hannah laughed again. “Maybe she’ll get to see him someday.”

Gabriel joined their laughter. He was that fly on the wall, an imperceptible listener who learned the secrets of the room’s quiet conversations. But one secret whispered more loudly than all the others. He had a new sister, and he loved her. Nothing would ever harm her. Not Devin, not Morgan, not even the devil himself could come between him and this precious baby.

Sapphira sat in front of the portal screen. She tried to smile at the lovely sight a new baby, a rejoicing mother and father, good news of lost loved ones. But she couldn’t smile, couldn’t shake the unbearable sadness that weighed her down.

Being alone for over twenty years seemed to make good news crumble to the floor. If Acacia had been there, they would have joined hands and danced in a circle. If Paili had been there, they would have embraced and squealed, feeding and watering the good news with hugs and kisses.

But now two of her dearest friends had disappeared to who knew where? Her only clue was a brief conversation she had heard between Elam and Patrick. Apparently, Paili ate Morgan’s fruit and had somehow vanished, but Gabriel, her eyes and ears to the world of the living, couldn’t pick up any more information. And she couldn’t leave to get any news on her own. The screen wouldn’t roll up into a portal column, so it was now impossible to go anywhere.

Sapphira stood up and wandered toward her bed. Everyone had forsaken her. Even Yereq no longer responded to her verbal prodding. No matter how much she chattered or sang, he just slept on and on. And loneliness led to her bigger problem boredom. With nothing to do but sit and watch others enjoy life, she could only reread the books she had memorized long ago. She had no slumber party friends giggling over shared secrets, no birthday guests singing around a frosted cake, and no family sitting at a table filled with steaming dishes of delicious bounty.

Not that she needed a meal. After nearly starving, she had finally eaten the fruit from the tree of life and never felt a hunger pang again. But watching families happily clinking glasses and passing laughter from place to place instilled a craving for their glorious joy.

Sapphira sat cross-legged on her mat, worn to a thin pad from hundreds of nights of tossing and turning. Acacia’s mat lay beside hers, its blanket pulled back for her should she ever return. Between the two mats lay her cross. She picked it up and stared at it. Why didn’t it work anymore? Had it lost its power?

She pointed it at herself. “Have I lost my power?” she asked out loud.

She cringed at the sound of her voice. It had been months since she had spoken, months since she had vowed never to speak again until she could be reunited with Elam and tell him . . . tell him . . .

She flopped down on her back. Not those words! They were too sad to utter, even in her mind.

Holding the cross upright on her chest, she gazed at its dark wood, now weathered and worn. Strange that it had always stayed smooth when she used it to open portals. As she traced her finger along its edges, an image from long ago appeared in her mind Elam walking into an Easter service at a church in Glasgow, and a cross decorating the front of the sanctuary. One of the songs played like an enduring echo, a song of death, resurrection, and victory.

Sapphira winced at the lyrics. The song didn’t make any sense. There was no joy in getting mocked and abused, living a life of torture, then dying a cruel death. So what if a messiah died and rose again? What good did it do? Elohim didn’t resurrect Gabriel’s body after he sacrificed it for a friend. He didn’t whisper in Paili’s ear to warn her when the devil’s mistress gave her the food of death. And he didn’t seem to care any longer about a freak of nature buried alone under thousands of feet of rock.

She sat up and slung the cross at the portal screen. It agitated the light as it passed through and bounced across the rocky floor on the other side. She flopped back down and, sliding her hands behind her head, squeezed her eyes closed. She sniffed and spoke out loud, her words pouring forth in a lament. “Elohim, please tell me you’re not just another Nimrod. Tell me you aren’t a king who just uses people for what you can get out of them.” She extended her open hand upward and shouted through her sobs. “You danced with me! Don’t you care about me anymore?”

She rolled over and stuffed her blanket into her mouth, biting it hard as she cried on and on.

Circa AD 1988

Gabriel floated high over the Drake residence, surveying the dim, moonlit landscape. The remote cabin sat alone at the top of a rural mountain, so strangers had no reason to venture the long, narrow road that ascended the steep incline. From his vantage point, he would be able to see any car headlights as far away as Flathead Lake at the base of the tree-filled slope. So far, no one was in sight.

Since Hannah and Timothy had gone to a movie in Kallispell, leaving Isaac Stalworth, Timothy’s “adopted” father, to babysit Ashley, Gabriel paid closer attention to his job than ever. Isaac was a trustworthy old man, but could he handle an attack by a slayer? Vigilance was in order for other reasons as well. Ever since he had created that telegram, it seemed that his parents had been shadowed by a mysterious stalker, making that form of communication too dangerous to continue.

Gabriel flew lower and peered in through the window. Isaac bounced little Ashley on his knee, making her straight brown hair sway across her back. She pointed at him, apparently saying something, but her voice didn’t penetrate the glass.

After filtering in through a narrow slit under the window, Gabriel drew close. Isaac rested his leg and patted his chest, wheezing. “I’m getting tired. Can’t we do something else?”

Ashley slid closer and laid her hand over his. “Do your lungs hurt, Dada?” she asked.

“Strange.” Isaac lifted his palm. “They did hurt, but they feel better now.”

She crawled back out on his knee and slapped his thigh with her little hand. “Then one more ride before I tuck you into bed.”

“Tuck me into bed? Don’t you want me to read to you?”

“No!” She crossed her chubby arms over her chest. “You never want to read what I want to read!”

“Look, young lady,” he said, shaking a finger at her, “I endured Lord of the Rings, but I’m not cracking open War and Peace. I’d be asleep before the second page.”

She spread out her hands, and her smile dug a dimple into each of her cheeks. “Then you go to bed, and I’ll read it to you.”

Isaac nudged her chin with his finger. “You’re only two years old! You shouldn’t be filling your head with all those war stories.”

“Why not?”

He tapped her head. “You know what your mother says.”

“Don’t say it!” Ashley covered his mouth with her hands. “I won’t let my brain choke.”

“If you’re not asleep when Mommy and Daddy get home,” he said, mumbling between her fingers, “I’ll be in big trouble.”

Ashley pressed a fingertip on his nose. “You’re too big to spank!”

A sudden popping noise pricked Gabriel’s senses. He peered out the window. A car rolled into the gravel driveway, its headlights dark. The car’s doors opened, and two shadows skulked toward the house.

Gabriel flew up to the ceiling and jammed his finger into an empty socket in a hanging light fixture. The shock sent him flying into the hallway, and the bulbs in the other sockets exploded.

Isaac scooped up Ashley and hunched over her, protecting her from the shower of glass. “Not a sound!” he said. “You know the plan.”

Ashley pressed a shushing finger over her lips and nodded.

Isaac scrambled to the back door, but when a beam of light flashed through the adjacent window, he pivoted and ran toward the hall, whispering to Ashley. “Remember how we practiced jumping out the window?”

Ashley nodded again. Isaac stomped right over Gabriel, and the two disappeared into a bedroom.

The front and back doors flew open. Bright beams slashed the living room, each one finally landing on the other’s source and illuminating the intruders’ faces. Dressed in chain mail and draped with surcoats, Devin and Palin drew out their swords.

Devin, the candlestone swinging over his chest, pointed his sword at the hall. “That’s the only way he could’ve gone!”

Palin resheathed his sword and ran. Gabriel plugged his fingers into a nearby outlet. Instantly, pulsing energy swelled his body. Palin set his feet, but his momentum carried him into Gabriel’s glowing field.

Palin’s face lit up, and streaks of electricity spewed from his mouth. Devin grabbed Palin’s hand and pulled. The current arced into Devin’s body, but with a backwards lunge, he yanked Palin free.

Lying on the hallway floor, Palin pointed at Gabriel. “Who is that winged boy?”

“It must be that mongrel I hunted back in England.” Devin rose slowly to his feet. “I think his name was Gabriel. Morgan told me he’s Thigocia’s son. It seems that he survived his execution.”

Gabriel unplugged himself. His energy field collapsed, but jolts of electricity continued to sizzle across his body.

Palin rose slowly, wobbling on shaky knees. “What is he made out of?”

“It looks like electrical sparks of some kind.” Devin kicked at Gabriel’s dwindling energy. “But whatever he is, he doesn’t appear to be physical, and it doesn’t look like he can move.”

As the sparks dissipated, shadows enveloped the two slayers. Only the moonlight from the living room window illuminated their dim frames. Palin nodded toward the bedroom. “Should we try to find the old man?”

“He was alone, wasn’t he?”

Palin flicked on his flashlight and ran its beam along the hallway floor. “I didn’t see anyone else.”

“As soon as we prepare Thigocia’s welcome home surprise, we’ll look around, but he’s not likely to be able to warn her from out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Palin limped toward the front door. “I’ll get the gas.”

As the last of Gabriel’s sparks winked out, his outer extremities stretched toward the candlestone. He tried to resist, but his confused atoms did little to defy the gem’s power.