Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

In days gone by the water fell

And draped the world in silent death;

A rain of judgment drowned the earth

Demanding life and snatching breath.

But now the raindrops fall afresh

On hearts rejecting hate and sin,

In blessings crowned with love and grace

To heal the wounds of soul and skin.

The flames exploded in brightness. Intense heat nearly blistered her skin, but she didn’t care. She just closed her eyes and sang on.

The one who loves is Elohim,

Rejoicing now in song and dance;

I shout for you to come and play,

Enjoying love, the great romance.

So dance, my child, and feel my love

In rain, the healing drops of life.

Forsake your cares, your toils and pain,

The wounds and scars of slavish strife.

Droplets of water sprinkled her cheeks, and the sizzle of cooling stone breezed past her ears. She tossed the remnant of the scroll to the ground and embraced Elam, her eyes still closed, her body still swaying with her song.

O cast aside the chains of grief

And reach for heaven’s grace above;

So son of Shem come dance with me!

Enfold yourself in arms of love.

This time, Elam returned the embrace, and as cool water poured from above, the two spun slowly with the whirling breeze. Elam’s head nodded in rhythmic spasms as he wept on Sapphira’s shoulder.

She patted his back and drank in his wordless song of joy. Elam had found Elohim. Though Elam had not seen his beloved father in centuries, he had witnessed the truth of his father’s stories about God as he endured the injustice and torture of Morgan’s prisons. Now he stood in the presence of the holy, finally feeling the loving caress of Elohim. The same God who scrubbed the world’s filth with a cleansing flood was now bathing him in a shower of mercy.

As the melody in her heart played on, new words drifted into her mind, sung in the rich voice of the Eye. She listened, wondering if Elam could hear them as well.

A day will come when you will speak

My name anew in sacrifice,

The day you set your heart afire

And give me all, the only price.

The voice faded away, and the fire settled to the earth and vanished. In its place stood a steep grassy slope rising to a high promontory overlooking a valley. Rain poured down from a dismal sky, the sun obscured by a curtain of dark, thick clouds.

Elam pulled away from Sapphira. He gave her a shy smile and nod, then turned his gaze upward, blinking at the sheets of rain. “Any idea where we are?” he asked.

Sapphira took in a long breath. “No clue, and I really don’t care.” She picked up the Ovulum from the mud, wiped it on her sleeve, and slid it into the pocket of her dampening dress. “I have Elohim’s prophet with me, so I have a guide.” She took Elam’s hand. “And I have a warrior with me, so I have a protector.”

Elam kept his gaze focused on the ground. “If you say so,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He looked up at her, his face shining in spite of the gloomy skies. “Even though I’m not the strongest guy around, or the bravest, I’ll be the best warrior I can be.” As his glistening eyes locked on Sapphira’s, he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “But, no matter what happens, I won’t ever betray the girl who risked her life to feed me. That’s a promise.”

Merlin swung his oar at the serpent, gashing its throat as its body lunged over his dugout canoe. He kicked the snake back into the water, thrust the oar against the muddy bottom of the swamp, and shoved the boat toward shore. Now at a depth of only a couple of feet, he jumped into the water and sprinted toward the grassy beach, splashing through the shallows. When he neared the shore, he vaulted toward the bordering grass and rolled to a stop next to a lush apple tree.

He clutched his chest and took in long, slow breaths, hoping his heart wouldn’t leap out of his throat. He glanced back at the swamp. The roiling snake bodies had submerged, and the surface was once again calm. Fumbling with the folds of his robe, he uncovered his scabbard and pulled out his sword. He wouldn’t be caught with only an oar in his hand again.

Merlin sat up and gazed at the castle on the hill, wondering at the familiar constellations riding above the twin turrets. Why would the stars of the living world be in the skies over Hades? He shrugged his shoulders. At least he had finally found her. Tracking Morgan had been much more difficult than he had imagined. It had been a big enough surprise when she transformed into a raven, but when she vanished through a dimensional portal, he couldn’t believe it! A wraith, a sorceress of old, had invaded England with her ancient black magic.

He rose to his feet and began trudging up the slope. The days of tedious research had finally paid off. Yet, learning who this woman really was proved to be a curse. With her prowess at the dark arts, every inch of his journey could bring a new puzzle to solve. . or another dangerous trap to avoid.

After coming under the shelter of a high portico that led to the main doors, he halted. A shadow, small and fleeting, like a child’s frightened ghost, scurried for cover behind a marble column. Merlin watched the column for any sign of movement. It wasn’t just his imagination. In this domain of wraiths, who could tell what evil might be lurking in the shadows?

Keeping his sword clearly exposed, he strode confidently to the door. If the mysterious ghost had plans to attack, it probably would have done so by now. He grasped the ornate knob, and the force of his hand swung the door noiselessly, opening it about a quarter of the way. He peered into the dim anteroom, then, allowing the sword to lead the way, he squeezed through the gap. When he cleared the door, he pushed it with his backside, but not far enough to engage the latch.

As he passed under an archway, a single torch hanging on a side wall flickered brightly, allowing Merlin to scan the enormous chamber, perhaps a ballroom or a meeting hall. Dozens of candelabras dangled from a high ceiling, and a huge rectangular table adorned the center.

Shifting his eyes back and forth, Merlin walked slowly toward the table. Tall chairs surrounded the dark wooden surface, each with padded headrests and elaborate trim. Near the head of the table, a marble chessboard sat at an angle, as though the master of the house had planned to play someone at the adjacent seat. Tall, wooden chess pieces stood around the board in mid-play, awaiting their marching orders. The white king, dressed in a purple-trimmed robe and carrying a rugged cross, sat on a muscular white horse. On the other side, the black king, dressed in red-trimmed mail and a turban of intertwined snakes, rode on an armored black dragon.

Something moved a shifting shadow seated at the tallest chair. A voice, soft and sultry, rose from the shadow. “Welcome, Merlin.”

Merlin nodded. “Morgan Le Faye, I presume.”

She gestured toward the seat next to hers. “You survived my serpents. I’m impressed.” A black cobra-shaped pawn advanced on the board by itself, threatening an opposing rook, but a white knight jumped to the pawn’s space and crushed it into dust.

Eyeing the enchanted pieces, Merlin slid the chair out and sat, keeping his legs swung to the side. “I prefer to speak without pretense, Morgan. I know who you really are.”

“Of course you do.” Morgan pulled close to the table and propped her folded hands. “You saw right through my facade in the king’s throne room, yet you refused to give away my identity. Why?”

A black knight jumped in front of its queen. The orange-eyed horse pawed its square, snorting viciously.

“You give me too much credit,” Merlin said. “I knew you were not the king’s sister, and I suspected that you were not fully human, but I didn’t guess that you were once called Lilith until I found an ancient scroll that described two wraiths who stalk the righteous in winged forms.”