Bryan Davis: Eye of the Oracle

“I see,” Lilith said, nodding. “So this king must have holy hands in order to defeat you.”

“Yes. But since this usurper could be a human representative for the dragons, our goal is to corrupt every family line, whether dragon or human, with the seed of the fallen ones. But, beware. Elohim has already hatched a plan to thwart ours. I know little more than a code phrase one of my disciples overheard ‘oracles of fire.’”

“That’s it? No context?”

“Only that there are two of them. Perhaps a pair of angels commissioned specifically to infiltrate our ranks and destroy our work from within.”

“I will watch for them.” Lilith lowered the sword. “And when will you become a dragon again and leave the garden?”

As the serpent slithered along Lilith’s arm, she raised her hand to the tree. It coiled around the branch, and its head turned back toward her, its voice echoing like a ghostly whisper. “When I steal the body of a certain dragon, I will be whole once more.” It crawled back into the thicker foliage and disappeared.

Naamah ran from the tree and sidled up to Lilith, crossing her arms again. Lilith chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry, Sister. Yours will be a marriage of convenience. We can dispose of Ham when he has served his purpose.”

Naamah turned her back to Lilith, her arms still crossed. “Then you marry him. You seem ready to betray your husband.”

Lilith grabbed Naamah’s shoulder and spun her back around, her eyes turning bright scarlet. “I’m doing this for us!”

The pain from Lilith’s grip made Naamah shake. As she stared at her sister’s fiery eyes, she felt tears forming in her own.

Lilith slowly relaxed her fingers. Stroking Naamah’s hair, she leaned close and whispered, “Lucifer has given me the means to carry out the plan that will save our lives. He knows Samyaza is not likely to cooperate, but I don’t really want to betray my own husband.” She pressed the tip of the sword into the grass. “I won’t resort to draining his power unless I have to.”

“Draining his power?” Naamah pointed at the sword. “With that?”

“No.” Lilith spread out her fingers, showing Naamah her palm. Splotches of purple stained her skin from the heel of her hand to her fingertips. “My seed concoction has many uses, and absorbing potency will come in handy.” Reaching up, she caressed one of the red fruits dangling from the tree. “Speaking of seeds” she plucked the fruit “I think these might also come in handy.”

“For posterity again?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Lilith dropped the apple-sized fruit on the ground and chopped down with the sword, slicing it cleanly in half. Kneeling, she picked through the flesh, collecting six seeds, then, spreading out her fingers again, she let the sparkling red seeds roll around on her stained palm.

“They look like rubies!” Naamah said.

Lilith dropped them into her pocket along with the others. “Much more valuable than rubies, Sister. They are the seeds of corruption. And those who control the corrupting influence wield the power to rule the corrupted.”

Makaidos unfurled his wings in the stiff, damp breeze. “Thigocia, I still sense danger.”

“As do I.” Twin plumes of smoke rose from the female dragon’s nostrils. “More Nephilim?”

“I cannot tell. The danger is too far away to be sure, or perhaps my nerves are still rattled from the fight.”

“It is not nervousness that troubles me.” Thigocia sniffed the air and stepped on a huge blackened body lying in the midst of the grassy meadow. “The stench of this Naphil carcass is making me ill.”

Makaidos tried to calm himself, but the strange beads of water sprinkling from the dark sky seemed to strum his tightened awareness. The prophets had predicted this “rain,” as they called it, yet knowing it was coming merely enhanced the anxiety it aroused. Black clouds boiled over the mountaintops and streamed above their lush, orchard-filled valley, adding even more gloom to the dismal skies. He breathed a stream of flames toward a nearby fig orchard, brightening the area for a brief moment. “Maybe I sense his brother lurking in the trees.”

“I doubt it. I scorched his arm to the bone. He is likely running home to his demonic daddy.”

Makaidos pawed the moistening soil. “Is the Oracle safe?”

Thigocia unfurled her wing. A lanky old man with thin, frazzled white hair and a ragged beard tripped over her pinion and tumbled to the grass. The man rose to his feet and brushed dirt from his knee-length robe. “If I can avoid killing myself,” he said, “I should survive, at least until the deluge.”

Makaidos nudged the dead giant’s body with his clawed fingers until it rolled faceup. The Naphil flopped its arm on the ground with a heavy thud. Makaidos pricked the arm with a spine on his tail. No reaction, not even a twitch from his massive, six-fingered hand.

“Are you making sure he’s dead?” the Oracle asked.

“Yes. I have never been able to kill any of the Nephilim before, so I thought they might be immortal. But when I saw dark mist streaming from this one’s mouth, I hoped his foul soul was being dragged to the abyss.”

“I torched the other giant,” Thigocia said, “but it barely fazed him, and we both still feel an evil presence.” Keeping her wing over the old man’s balding scalp, she gazed into his eyes. “Can the Ovulum see beyond our senses? Is danger on the horizon?”

The Oracle held up a shining orb, egg-shaped and about the size of a large pear. As it rested in his palm, scarlet halos emanated from its smooth, glassy surface, painting his withered face in their glow. The rings of color radiated all around the entire company, creating an umbrella of light. “A Watcher is lurking,” he said, “but the Ovulum cannot tell me how close he is.”

He mopped his forehead with his sleeve and breathed out a long sigh. “The king chose well to have you two guard me. I had my doubts about the female’s experience, but she has certainly proven me wrong.”

“We are both honored to serve the children of Adam. And you are right about Thigocia.” Makaidos swished his tail toward her. “My father believes she is the most promising young warrior in his kingdom.”

Thigocia closed her eyes and bowed. “Praise the Maker,” she whispered.

The old man sighed again. “Yes. . promising.” He held out his hand, allowing a thin pool of water to gather in his palm. “Earthly promises are washing away, as are the lives of Adam’s progeny. Life itself fades like withering grass.” He patted Thigocia on her flank. “And warriors must learn other arts. . at least for a time.”

Thigocia raised her head. “Other arts? What other ”

Makaidos snorted a plume of smoke. “I sense a Watcher close at hand! Guard the Oracle!”

Thigocia wrapped up the old man again, pinning him to her side, and ignited the surrounding grass to create a ring of fire around herself and Makaidos. A mammoth-sized angel with dark red wings appeared out of the thick blanket of clouds and flew to the earth. He stalked around the blazing circle, his radiant robes reflecting the tongues of sizzling fire. “A ring of flames, dragoness?” the angel said. “Not very creative for such a wet, dreary day, but that’s to be expected of a senseless beast like you.”

Makaidos flicked his tail toward Thigocia. “Do not answer him. He is baiting us.”

She growled. “I have fought this demon before. We must be on our guard. He is powerful and crafty.”

The Oracle’s shaggy head pushed through a gap in Thigocia’s wing. “He is drawn to the Ovulum’s power. I can feel his mind connecting with its energy field. There is no use hiding it from him.”