Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

Turning to the side, Elam nodded toward the valley. “Besides, Elohim gave me an important assignment here. Now that you and the other girls are safe, I can do it.”

“Elohim gave you an assignment? When? How?”

“When we were dancing, he sang a song, and the words keep repeating in my mind.

O son of Shem, so brave and true,

Come learn of love’s fulfilling vow.

The land of life calls out to you,

The blood of Christ your refuge now.

’Tis dragons you will find and serve,

But first take care of what you need,

To root and sprout and grow and bloom,

And Lazarus provides the seed.

“Whew!” He wiped his sleeve across his brow. “That’s a lot better than the other song I kept hearing.”

“You’re right,” Sapphira said, nodding. “You have to stay here.”

Elam lowered his head. “It sure looks that way.”

“And I’ll stay with you.” She hooked her arm around Elam’s. “At least we’ll have each other, and I might know the language here. After the tower fell, I had to study a long time to figure out Mardon’s, so Morgan used me as a sort of translator over the years for all the new languages she came across.”

“What about Paili? Who’ll take care of her?”

“Acacia and the other girls are there, and I could go back and visit whenever I wanted to. It’s not like I would be abandoning them.”

“You can’t live up here.” Elam set a finger under her chin again. “I mean, look at you! With your hair and eyes, if the people are anything like what they were before, they’ll think you’re some kind of angel.”

Sapphira touched the ends of her hair. “An angel?”

“Or a demon. Most people I knew were superstitious. They attacked anything they didn’t understand, and they would never understand how someone so different can be. .” Elam chewed on his lip and shifted his weight again.

“Can be what?”

“Can be. . so kind. . so thoughtful.” He lowered his gaze to the ground. “So perfect.”

Sapphira took Elam’s hand. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

A man’s voice shouted from behind them in an odd language.

“What did he say?” Elam asked.

Sapphira whirled toward the source. “He said, ‘Who’s there?’”

Elam stepped in front of Sapphira. “Can you translate for me?”

“Yes. I know this language. Morgan made sure we trained especially hard for this one.”

As Elam whispered to her, Sapphira spoke the translation in a loud voice. “Sir, if we are trespassing, we are very sorry and will leave immediately. Allow us to go our way in peace.”

Lantern light flashed across Elam’s eyes, and the voice calmed. “There are no trespassers in Christ’s courtyard. All true seekers are welcome.” The shadowy form of a man ambled down the slope, keeping one leg stiff to brace against falling. The light revealed a generous smile on his narrow, aged face.

As Sapphira quickly translated, Elam pulled her close beside him. “Hide your eyes,” he whispered.

She jerked out her coif and tied it on, pushing her hair underneath and veiling her eyes.

“Two of you, eh? We can make room. Are you two married?”

Sapphira shook her head, then Elam did the same.

The man pointed at his face. “I was wondering, with the veil, you know, maybe she was a new bride. Are you brother and sister?”

Sapphira whispered the words to say. Elam tried to parrot them, but they came out skewed. “No,” Elam said in the man’s language. “We are just. . together.”

“Oh. . I see. Well, I can’t say that I approve, but I guess you foreigners have different customs. You’re welcome to stay the night, but I’m a Christian man, so we’ll have to separate you. The girl can sleep with my wife, and you and I can push some bedding together on the front room floor. It’s not the most comfortable place to sleep, but we’ll be warm and dry.” He extended his hand. “My name is Lazarus. What’s yours?”

Elam jerked his head around to Sapphira. “I didn’t understand any of that, but I thought I heard him say Lazarus.”

“He did.” Sapphira stepped up and curtsied. “His name is Elam, and mine is Sapphira.” She nodded toward the building. “What is this place, if I may be so bold?”

Lazarus gestured toward the boards on the wall. “See the cross?” he said, pulling a smaller wooden replica from under his belt. “It’s a church, dedicated to Michael.”

Sapphira translated for Elam, then asked Lazarus, “Michael, the archangel?”

“Yes, indeed.” The man leaned toward her and blinked his friendly old eyes. “Obviously you have heard of him in your country.”

Again, she translated, then, as she readied another reply, Elam pulled off her coif. Her hair spilled to her shoulders, and she stepped back, wincing at the lantern light.

“An angel!” Lazarus dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “What do you request of your humble servant? I am ready to do your bidding.”

Elam pointed at Lazarus. “Sapphira, tell him you’re a special messenger called an oracle of fire, and now that you have brought me here to his church, your work is done.”

Sapphira shielded her eyes with her arm. “But ”

“Tell him!” Elam ordered, stuffing the coif into her pocket.

Sapphira translated the words and lowered her arm. “What now?”

He pointed at Lazarus’s cross. “Ask him if I can use it.”

Sapphira asked.

Lazarus laid the cross in Elam’s palm. “By all means!”

Elam wrapped Sapphira’s fingers around the cross and covered them with his own. “Go home, now. We’ll see each other again. I know we will.” He helped Lazarus to his feet and stepped back, pulling him along.

Sapphira drew in her bottom lip and bit it hard. She yearned to be with Elam, but he was right. This world would never accept her. No matter how much love a precious few people showed to her, she would still be a freak of nature in the eyes of everyone else. And who was she to expect Elam to live buried in dark hopelessness, trapped in the dimension of the dead, with a bunch of plant girls, no less? He had a vision from Elohim, and she should spur him on, not drag him back.

As she gazed at Elam slowly climbing the hill with Lazarus, she looked past him and, with her sharpened vision, read a sign on the church’s wall. Jesus saith unto him, “Feed my sheep.” The riddle on the museum wall came back to her mind: “When a maid collects an egg, she passes it on, giving it to the one she feeds.” Sliding her hand into her pocket, she felt the Ovulum, now cold and lifeless. She knew it was time to obey.

“I’ll go,” she called, withdrawing the Ovulum, “but. .”

Elam pivoted and stood on a flat terrace several paces up. “But what?”

She held the Ovulum in her palm. “But only if you take this. I think you’ll need it more than I will.” She tossed it to him, not wanting to give him a choice. He caught it with both hands and pressed it close to his chest.

Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she raised the cross high in the air. As tears blurred her vision, she shouted, “Give me light!” The cross ignited, burning with lively yellow flames from an inch above her hand to the very top. She began to swirl it in a slow orbit.

Lazarus lowered himself to his knees again and lifted his hands. “May God be praised. I have seen another miracle!”

Elam nodded at Sapphira, the glow of the cross shining in his eyes. “Go on, now,” he said softly. “I’ll learn the language soon enough.”

Swirling the cross faster, she steadied her voice and spoke as clearly as she could. “I love you, Elam, son of Shem.”

Tears rolled down Elam’s cheeks. “And I love you, Sapphira Adi, sparkling gem of perfection.”