Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

“What about Mardon? Don’t you need him?”

“I will have use for both him and his father at a later time. For now, just do what he says. But you must also perform one task for me.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a leather pouch, untying its drawstring as she held it out for Mara to see. “I went to the new dig area and found the pit you told me about, and now I know what this is.” She pulled a sparkling jewel from the pouch and laid it in her palm. Radiance from the shaft streamed toward her hand, and the jewel absorbed the flow, making it pulse with green brilliance.

“The gem I found!” Mara said.

Morgan curled her fingers around the gem and slid it into Mara’s dress pocket. “Don’t take it out until Mardon introduces you to his father. Bow low and present it as a gift from the lady in black. Tell the king that it is a candlestone from the walls of the abyss. He will know what to do with it.”

Mara patted the outside of her pocket. The two glass oddities were cushioned by her coif, so they seemed secure. “Will you please ask Naamah to look after my spawn?”

“She will be glad to.” Morgan flattened Mara’s hand against the pocket and guided her toward the column of light. “You must keep the gem secure while you’re in the portal.”

Mara paused at the edge of the column and smiled. Soon she would see the endless sky, and maybe even a dragon. She took a big step into the light. The radiance tickled, but only a little, and when she looked out, everything in the cavern, though tinged with light green, seemed clear and detailed, as though she were looking at it from inches away. She could see tiny pores in each stone and minute crystalline facets within. When she glanced where Morgan had stood, a large winged creature had taken her place. “Morgan!” she cried. “Where are you? I can’t see you anymore!”

“I am here,” the creature squawked. “I have never taught Mardon how to use the lower portal by himself, so don’t tell him what to do. Reach up and grasp a handful of light, then pull it down as if you were climbing a rope.”

Mara followed orders. The light in her hand felt like a cable, similar to the one that pulled the shaft platform up and down, only thinner, about the width of Nabal’s whip. As soon as she finished a single pull, the cavern shattered into a million pieces and fell like volcanic ash, leaving a curtain of complete darkness. Then, a new scene formed, coming into focus as though her eyes were adjusting to the lighting of a lantern. As the view brightened, everything grew sharp and clear, clearer than her normal environment down below, but darker than she had expected. She blinked and drank in her surroundings, recognizing most objects from sketches or descriptions in Mardon’s scrolls buildings in the distance, trees much bigger than any spawn, and a light in the sky, a semicircle of whiteness.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mardon sitting on a log poking a long stick at a small fire near his feet. He glanced up. “Oh. There you are. It’s about time.”

“I thought the sun would be brighter,” she said. “I don’t even need my veil.”

“You will very soon.” He nodded toward the sky. “That’s the moon, the god of the night.”

“A god? Like Elohim?”

“Not really, but my father set up an idol for the moon and the sun and several of the constellations. People want to worship all sorts of objects, so he gives them temples, places to pray. It’s easier to control the masses if you assimilate their superstitions into an approved, national religion.”

Mara shook her head. “I. . I didn’t understand much of that.”

Mardon laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m just making a political speech.” He picked up the burning stick and traced a line around where Mara stood. “Fire is the key to getting home. If we get separated, come to this site and take a brand from the flames. Then stand in the middle of this circle and wave it over your head as fast as you can.”

Mara waved her hand from side to side. “Like this?”

“No.” Mardon swung his arm in a wide circle. “Like this. The fire will energize the portal and take you home.”

Mara pointed at the fire. “How do you know the logs will stay lit?”

“I have a servant who comes and tends the fire to make sure it never goes out.”

Mara stared at the circle around her feet. An odd feeling seeped into her mind, a long lost sensation of grief and pain, like a mournful voice crying out in her heart. She stepped over the line, and the feeling quickly melted away.

She looked back at the circle, her vision now returning to normal. This portal was invisible, not like the column of light down below. If not for the line on the dirt, how could she recognize a portal if she needed to?

Mardon reached for her hand. “Let’s go to the tower. The king will be rising for the morning blessing soon.”

Mara took his hand and strode beside him, passing between a pair of tall boulders that seemed to act as a gateway to the portal area. As the two gifts clinked in her pocket, she felt more important than she ever dreamed she could. She, Mara, an underborn laborer, was being taken to an audience with a king. “He lives in the tower?” she asked.

“He will live in the shrine when the tower is finished, but until then he goes there at sunrise and blesses the people from the top of the tower.”

Mardon stepped up the pace, forcing Mara to jog to stay at his side. They followed a path through a stand of trees that ended at the edge of an enormous flat field. Mardon stopped and pointed at the slowly brightening scene. About a stone’s throw away, a few huts lined a street that widened as it led to a huge cluster of buildings. In the center of the buildings, a gigantic tower loomed. Mara took two steps back, her mouth dropping open. Its base was so wide, just walking around it might take all day.

As they closed in on the city, details in the tower grew clear. It rose layer upon layer, seemingly without end, each layer slightly narrower than the one below it. Dozens of people scurried along its external staircases, some hustling up with armloads of timber and straw and others scrambling down empty-handed. One person slipped and fell to the next level, but no one else seemed to notice. They just kept crawling, like a thousand ants moving sand grain by grain to the top of the hill.

“They are busier than usual,” Mardon said. “That means my father will be here soon.”

Mardon strode ahead, and Mara followed, glancing frequently at the edge of the sky as it grew brighter and brighter. She pulled out her coif and tied it on, tucking her hair underneath and grinning as the endless sky began to reveal its lovely blue canvas. The chill of dawn didn’t bother her a bit. Her own excitement pumped warmth to her fingers and toes.

As the top of the sun peeked over the horizon, Mardon approached the city gate and nodded at the gatekeeper, a bearded young man, taller and fatter than Mardon. The guard turned a wooden dial at the gate’s latch, and Mara counted its quiet clicks. The gatekeeper stared at her while he worked, so she stayed close to Mardon’s side. Finally, the latch clanked, and the iron-barred fence swung out with a terrible whine.

“A fresh treat for the worshippers, Mardon?” the guard asked. “She’s pasty white, but the men at the Luna temple won’t mind. They like the young ones.”

“Quiet, fool!” Mardon pulled Mara closer and whispered. “Never mind him. He’s just an ignorant commoner.”

Mara spread out her fingers and compared her skin to Mardon’s. His was quite a bit darker, brown instead of her pinkish-white hue. In the dimness of her home, she hardly took notice of skin color. She turned toward the rising sun, pulling her veil down as the rays began to sting her eyes. She had read about sunlight changing skin tone temporarily, but could its light be harsh enough to make everyone this brown?