Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

“Ham’s raven? What could it ”

“Here it is!” Ham said, climbing back to the top level. He held a green anole in his hand and showed it to the raven. “Green,” he said, stroking the lizard’s skin. “Bring me something green.”

Noah turned his shoulder toward the window, and the raven leaped for the exit, its wings beating against the breeze. Noah left the window open and limped toward his quarters, his back bent. “I will pray with Emzara for the raven. Perhaps this long journey will end soon.”

Makaidos lurched toward the window and extended his neck through the opening as far as he could. The ark listed to one side, clearly stuck on something beneath the white-capped waves that constantly punished the hull. To his left and only several feet below his level, the main deck’s blistered planks led away from Adam’s door.

From his vantage point, the deck seemed to be an observation platform where someone standing at the parapet could look out over the dark blue sea. A few distant mountaintops peeked through the endless expanse of water, too far away for any possibility of reaching them against both wind and waves. The only hope lay on the other side of the ark, but that view was out of reach, even for a long-necked dragon.

Makaidos opened his eyes wide and drank in the sun’s rays. Pure luxury! His neck scales cried out for joy, but even this splendor was nothing more than a tease. He and Thigocia needed much more energy, a recharge that only a full sunbath could bring, and the rays at this angle, not quite enough to sneak into the window, provided only a glancing exposure.

He pulled his head back inside. Since the bird was nowhere in sight, there was no use keeping watch. Even if Ham’s idea could work, the presence of a dragon in the window would surely frighten the raven away.

Makaidos stared into the ark’s dim interior, giving his eyes a moment to adjust. His vision flashed on to compensate for the change, and the two dim beams locked onto Ham’s chest as he stood next to Japheth. Both men were watching the window.

Ham swept his hand across the pair of red dots on his tunic, trying to brush them away as if they were bothersome flies. When the dots stayed put, he glanced at Makaidos, a frown taking shape on his face. Without uttering a word, he climbed down the ladder and disappeared through the hole.

Something sharp tugged Naamah’s ear. She slapped at it, making it stop for a moment, but when the tugging persisted, she opened her eyes. Shadows waltzed on her bedding, keeping time with the ark’s rhythmic shifts, but little else moved in her quiet sleeping quarters. A flickering lantern hanging from a distant rafter cast a glow around a dark shape as it swayed back and forth, a bird-like phantom perched on the straw next to her head.

“Lilith?” Naamah whispered.

“Take care to call me Morgan now,” the raven croaked softly. “Dawn is approaching, and the time for our plan is upon us. Are the seeds of Eden safe?”

“Yes. They’re hidden in my bed.”

“Good. You will be able to get them later. For now, take the grapes I put in your hand and follow me.”

Naamah closed her fingers around a handful of dried grapes, checked the sleeping infant at her side, and tiptoed into the dim corridor. The raven landed on her shoulder. “Follow the moonlight to the window.”

Naamah obeyed, timing her barefooted steps to match the squeaks of the rocking ark. When she reached the window, the fresh breeze jolted her fully awake. Blinking her eyes, she angled her head toward Morgan. “What now?”

“It is time for you to take the next step.”

“The next step? I already had a baby. Haven’t I taken enough steps?”

“Don’t worry. Having the baby was the most difficult part of your journey.”

“You’re telling me! He was so big, I thought I was having a whale!”

“Yes, I expected him to be larger than most. The potion I gave you saw to that. I’m sure you felt the changes it made inside you.”

“You know how small I am. I could have died having a baby that big.”

“I watched over you. If you had been in danger of dying, I would have taken this step immediately.”

Naamah set her fists on her hips. “What is this step?”

Morgan fluttered to the wooden floor. “To make you immortal.” The raven slowly grew, stretching into a misshapen giant of a bird. Its wings thinned into human arms, and its pointed beak shrank into Morgan’s angular nose. Seconds later, Naamah’s sister stood in the raven’s place, her silky black dress flowing in the breeze.

“You’re. .” Naamah caressed Morgan’s face, but it seemed ghostly physical in a way, but not quite real. Her cheeks were sunken and sallow, more like a cadaver’s than those of the beautiful woman who once answered to Lilith. “Are you human?” Naamah asked.

Morgan took Naamah’s hand. “Not exactly. You might call me a wraith. My body died in the flood, but my spirit lives on in this world on borrowed time. I cannot last much longer without going to a new home my lord has prepared for me. There, I will be restored and live forever.”

Naamah took a step back on her trembling legs. “And now you want me to be a wraith like you?”

“You will be young and beautiful.” Morgan caressed Naamah’s cheek with her yellowed, bony fingers. “When you see what I have in store for us, you will jump at the chance.”

Naamah resisted the urge to grimace at Morgan’s ghostly touch. “Jump at the chance? Why?”

“Well, let’s just say you can keep your charming ways, stay beautiful forever, and you won’t have to worry about having any more babies.”

Though Naamah tried not to smile, her lips curved upward. “So what do I have to do to become immortal?”

“You have to die.”

“Die?” Naamah’s voice pitched higher. “But immortal means ”

“Silence!” Morgan glanced toward the sleeping quarters and lowered her voice to the softest whisper. “The potion you drank will restore you, then we can fly to our new home and become like goddesses.”

“Goddesses?” Naamah’s fear began to melt away. “Are you sure?”

Morgan spread out her arms. “I drowned in the flood, dead as any other lost soul in the wake of Elohim’s wrath, and yet I stand here before you now. I assure you that my original beauty will be restored soon, perhaps enhanced with even more allure, as will yours.”

“What do I do?”

Morgan nodded toward the ark’s window. “You are small enough to climb through and jump. When you drown in the flood, you will be transformed into a flying creature. Then, look for me in my raven form and follow me.”

This time, Naamah couldn’t hold back her grimace. “I have to drown? That sounds painful.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing.” Morgan laid her hands on Naamah’s cheeks again and purred a melody.

To Satan we will bring

The seeds to sow and sing.

We’ll water plant and root,

Then pluck the giant fruit.

Your waking mind abates;

The sleep of death awaits.

Rebirth on wings is near;

Your sleep will cast out fear.

Releasing Naamah’s cheeks, Morgan blew softly into her eyes. Her breath was cold and dry, instantly evaporating all moisture. Naamah’s eyelids fluttered. “I’m so sleepy,” she said, yawning.

Morgan interlaced her fingers and set her hands in a cradle near the window. “Then hurry. I’ll boost you before you fall asleep.”

Naamah yawned again, set her foot in Morgan’s hands, and climbed into the window. As she straddled the sill, she looked down from the dizzying height, her mind swimming as the ark rocked back and forth on white-capped waves. She grasped the window frame with both hands and cried out, “The water’s so far down, I can barely see it. Can’t we wait until morning?”