Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. “It is. I cannot deny it.”

“So, shall we explore this strange world and experience a new adventure?”

“I suppose so.” She walked at his side, then stopped and playfully poked his arm. “But I am going to keep my eye on you. I still lack trust in the human species, and now you are one of them.”

Makaidos shrugged his shoulders again. “Fair enough.” As the two strolled hand in hand along the path, he smiled. He wanted to look at his daughter’s facial expression, but sneaking a peek might tip the delicate balance of her emotions. He knew exactly what her dragon face would have looked like right now, a blend of skepticism and excitement. Although she despised humanity, she had to be relishing the adventure of living in a completely new world. Her human face probably bore a similar expression, perhaps mixed with a touch of fear. He regripped her cold, trembling hand. Maybe his confidence could cast out her fears.

They walked slowly toward the ruins of the city’s brick kilns. Shinar seemed much larger than before, and somehow closer, more intimate, even in its devastated condition. Marble fragments from broken statues littered the dirt path, and a dried-out tar pit sank away to one side. Makaidos pointed at one of the broken ovens. “We can make that area into a bakery, and the tar pits can be farmland.”

Roxil winced at the dark depressions in the earth. “Can you grow crops in tar?”

“I have no idea, but we will soon learn.” He stopped suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

He shook his head and continued walking. “Just an impression, an image in my mind. A girl begging me to speak to her.”

“What did she look like?”

Makaidos gazed upward. “It was fleeting, but I did see bright blue eyes and hair as white as wool.”

“Okay, Father, you are scaring me. First, you enjoy being human, now you are getting drunk without ever touching a wineskin.”

Makaidos smirked. “Shall I keep my visions to myself, then?”

“No, no. Go ahead and tell me. I have to monitor your sanity and keep you in line.”

After several minutes of exploring the ruins, Makaidos stopped again and squeezed Roxil’s hand. “Am I insane now?” He pointed at a pomegranate tree near a collapsed portico. “Or do I see a girl hiding behind that tree?”

Roxil whispered. “I see her, too. I cannot see her eyes, but her hair is brown, not white.”

“True. She is not the girl I saw in my mind.”

“Could she be one of the dragons who died in the flood? She is quite young.”

“It is possible,” Makaidos replied. “My sister Zera was a youngling when she died.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Roxil ran forward, waving. “Zera, is that you?”

Driving her trembling legs forward, Sapphira shuffled toward the river. She thrust her hand into her pocket and jerked out the Ovulum. “Elohim!” she cried, her entire body quaking. “Help me! I don’t know what to do!”

Elam dove into the magma. Sapphira gasped and trudged to the edge. She breathed a quick prayer and pushed the Ovulum back into her pocket. Scanning the magma’s bubbling surface, she searched for any sign of life.

A head bobbed in the current. There he was! Swimming back to the side! When he neared the shore, he waded up to dry land. A thick coat of magma dripped down his tunic and instantly hardened to a crusty coat of ash, blackening his frame from head to toe. At least he was safe, but he was alone.

Sapphira dropped to her knees and cried. “She’s gone! My poor Paili is gone forever!”

“Gone, yes.” Elam began brushing the ash from his sleeve. “But maybe not forever.”

Sapphira lifted her head, barely able to breathe. “What. . what do you mean?”

“It was the strangest thing. I could open my eyes under there, and I could see everything clearly. Paili was sinking into a whirlpool, and I dove down to grab her, but before I could reach her hand, she suddenly disappeared. If I could survive this stuff, maybe she did, too. That whirlpool has to lead somewhere.”

Sapphira pushed up to her wobbly legs and helped Elam brush the ash from his chest. “Did she look scared?”

“I think so, but it was hard to tell.”

Stooping next to the river, Sapphira dipped her hand into the current and raised a sample of the magma to her eyes. It was certainly warm, but not the superheated, blistering sensation she expected. As she continued to examine it, the tiniest bubbles became clear. Each one carried microscopic bits of ash through the thick suspension. Staring at the magma seemed to raise the familiar feeling of sadness; Acacia’s face, then Paili’s, scorched her mind’s eye.

She let the magma trickle to the ground. Each drop sizzled on the granite as it struck the floor. “It’s a portal,” she whispered.

“A portal?” Elam brushed both hands through his hair, breaking chunks of black crust and letting them fall to the ground.

Sapphira’s legs strengthened, and her voice steadied. “The whirlpool in the river must be another portal, just like the one we used to get here. Maybe Paili went through it, and she’s alive on the other side.”

“You mean it’s a door to somewhere else?”

“Yes, to yet another place or dimension. That last portal brought us back to the lower realms, but there’s no way to tell where the whirlpool leads.”

Elam waded into the magma again and extended his hand. “We’d better find her right away. There’s no telling what’s at the bottom of that whirlpool.”

Sapphira reached for his hand and tiptoed in. As the bubbling liquid rose to her thighs, the warmth soothed her tired feet and legs. When she moved to deeper magma, she let go of Elam and paddled through the thick goop, raising splashes that found their way to her mouth. Spitting out the hot, crusty ash, she clamped her lips tight and swam after Elam, but the sense of sadness grew so strong, her arms felt weak and heavy. She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the pain would spur her on. She had to keep going! She just had to!

Keeping afloat by paddling with one arm, Elam raised his hand and pointed at the river. “I think the whirlpool’s straight down.”

Sapphira nodded, barely opening her lips to speak. “Let’s go!”

Elam dipped his head under and kicked to thrust his body downward. Sapphira took a deep breath and followed. Forcing herself to open her eyes, she saw Elam more clearly than if it were the sunniest day in history. He plunged deeper, and she kept following, glad she had taken so many dives into Lucifer’s pool hunting for polished stones. Her lungs would hold out. . she hoped.

A slowly swirling eddy appeared below. Elam swam inside and disappeared in the shining vortex. Her lungs now begging for air, Sapphira plunged into the center of the swirl, thrusting and kicking with all her might. As the whirlpool swallowed her, she felt the familiar transformation to light energy and a blinding sensation, then, a few seconds later, pressure on her feet as though she were standing upright.

Although her eyes were still blinded, cool air breezed past her face, signaling that she had re-embodied and was now standing on a flat surface. As her vision cleared, she saw a nearby fountain, dry and cracked. A line of broken-down shops lay beyond it, as well as another dry fountain in the distance. She drank in the air, nearly hyperventilating as her lungs slowly recovered.

“It looks like we’re back where we started.” Elam tightened the belt on his tunic. “At least there’s no black stuff all over me this time.”

“Back where we started?” Sapphira scanned the city again. This time she spotted the familiar brick kilns and tar pit. “Those portals just took us in a circle?”