Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

As she turned to leave, Elam laid a hand on her shoulder. “Wait!”

Hannah spun back, her friendly smile growing and her brow rising again in anticipation. “Are ye not throu?”

Elam shuddered. Hannah’s Scottish accent was forced, and her idioms were slightly off-kilter. If the slayer ever heard her speak, he’d unmask her right away.

“What’s the matter?” Hannah asked. “Short o’ the Greek?” She stared at him with her wise old eyes, nearly as ancient as the earth itself, yet framed by a smooth, narrow face. Her gaze seemed to attach to his mind and absorb information.

He tried to shake off the brain lock, but it was no use. Something was up, and Hannah knew it. The Ovulum suddenly grew warm in his pocket, a good warmth, a prodding warmth. The prophet within the glass shell didn’t always need words to let his will be made known.

Elam let out a long sigh. He had to tell her everything.

Devin pulled Excalibur from its scabbard and lifted it in front of his face. The shining blade divided his view, slicing the image of Palin in half as the squire donned the final garment in his battle array, a dark leather surcoat with a red dragon emblazoned on the front. Five hundred years had passed since he last strapped on his scabbard, but everything still seemed to fit.

Devin pointed the sword at Palin’s head. “Does your new helmet suit you?”

Palin sat on his bed and rocked the domed helmet back and forth over his mop of black hair. “Yes. It’s not the same style as my old one, but it will do.”

Devin resheathed Excalibur and leaned out of their second-floor window. A fresh breeze blew streams of mist across a triplet of castle turrets rising from the adjacent wing. He breathed in the moist air and smiled. “It seems that your old model isn’t fashionable with the mannequins in the Scottish museums. The first two castles had nothing but full body armor costumes. Can you imagine going into battle in one of those?”

Palin took off his helmet and laid it on his lap. “Maybe you should inform the museum curators of proper battle attire in the sixth century.” He rapped the top of the helmet with his knuckles. “Or perhaps we need to be informed of proper, twentieth-century battle attire.”

Still gazing out the window, Devin pulled up a necklace chain and let the candlestone dangle in front of his surcoat. “I know you think my obsession rather odd, but we are hunting dragons who are disguised in human skin, wolves in sheep’s clothing. Our integrity would be in question if we were to appear as anything but slayers when we confront one of the devil lizards.” He smoothed out the emblem on his vest, a screaming dragon with an arrow protruding from its belly. “I am not about to bow to hypocrisy just because our raiment is out of step with the vagaries of this century’s fashions. Unpretentious and unmasked, we have stripped the dragons’ disguises with the point of a sword, and we will continue in that sacred tradition.”

“As you wish, my liege.” Palin drew his sword, his eyes scanning the blade as it emerged from its scabbard. “It is freshly sharpened for the ceremonial undressing of the queen of the demon witches.”

“Excellent!” Devin raised the candlestone in front of his eyes. “If this Logan fellow speaks the truth, Thigocia will soon be ours. The witch who whelped the entire coven will finally be exposed.”

“And then only two more,” Palin said, shoving his sword back in place.

“Yes. I will repay Hartanna for wounding me, but” Devin clenched a fist around the candlestone’s chain “I want Clefspeare’s blood more than any other. To use his power to extend our lives would be the ultimate victory.”

Still facing Hannah, Elam reached back into his mind and recalled the ancient Hebrew he once spoke so well. Now the language seemed foreign, but the words came quickly enough. “I know who you are,” he said.

Hannah’s mouth dropped open. She sputtered, also speaking Hebrew. “What. . what did you say?”

Elam slowly withdrew the Ovulum from his pocket and lifted it in his open palm. “I know who you are.”

Hannah grabbed Elam’s arm, pulled him into the bedroom, and slammed the door. “Who are you? How did you get the Ovulum?”

Elam raised a shushing finger to his lips. “Are any other boarders here?”

“None who speak Hebrew!” She gripped his wrist so tightly, pain shot along his arm, making the Ovulum tremble in his palm. “If you are a slayer, you were a fool to come with neither sword nor shield.” She squeezed even harder, revealing a strength that belied her petite frame. “Now, I will ask again, and you will answer. Who are you, and how did you get the Ovulum?”

“I am Elam, son of Shem,” he said, laying a hand on his chest. “The Ovulum came to me by the will of Elohim. Since Noah was my grandfather, and Methuselah was his grandfather, it rightfully belongs to me.”

Hannah gasped. “Noah was your grandfather? How is that possible? You are not more than sixteen years old, eighteen at the most!”

Elam extended a hand and gently placed his palm on her cheek. “How old are you, Thigocia?”

Hannah released his arm and backed away, her voice spiking with alarm. “Where did you hear that name?”

He stepped toward her, but when he noted the anguish in her eyes, he halted and spoke in a soothing tone. “I have kept watch over you for fifteen hundred years. I prevented Devin and Palin from finding you at least a dozen times.”

Hannah backed up against the bedroom’s far wall and flattened her palms against the plaster. “You” she swallowed hard “you have been following me around for centuries?” She glanced at an open window, just an arm’s length from her hand. “Why should I believe a word you are saying?”

Elam raised the Ovulum onto his fingertips. “Because I bear the dwelling place of the Eye of the Oracle.” He drew it closer to his face and said, “ Fiat lux .” The glass began to glow, and a nebulous crimson cloud took shape within.

A look of curiosity swept across Hannah’s face. She took a half step forward, craning her neck. “Can you see him?”

The cloud congealed into the shape of an eye, bright and clear. Dozens of reddish hues painted the pupil, the iris, and every serpentine capillary. Elam nodded at the pulsing egg. “Yes, but he rarely speaks, he ”

A squeak sounded, the whine of the front door’s rusty hinges. Elam spun around and laid his ear on the bedroom door, whispering, “Are you expecting someone?”

Hannah shook her head and began inching toward the window. A slow creak drifted in from the hallway, a bending floor plank on the other side of the door.

The Ovulum’s temperature spiked hotter in Elam’s hand, and an urgent whisper hissed from the shell. “Fly! A dark knight is coming quickly!”

Elam rushed to the window. Hannah had already straddled the sill. Grabbing her wrist, he lowered her to the ground, then scrunched low and leaped out. They backed away from the cottage, watching for any movement in the room. Suddenly, Devin vaulted through the window frame. Before the dark knight hit the ground, Palin followed. As Devin straightened, he faltered for a moment, clutching his leg in pain.

“He’s hurt!” Elam said, grabbing Hannah’s arm. “Run!”

Hannah jerked free. “No! I am through running!” She snatched the Ovulum from Elam and held it in her outstretched hand. “Thousands of years ago, I saw the Ovulum protect the ark of Noah from the most powerful demons in the world. I am sure it can hold off two of their stupid lackeys.”

Devin withdrew his sword and stalked toward them with Palin at his side, his sword also at the ready. As the Ovulum pulsed bright rings of red, Devin stopped and sneered. “You would battle two knights with a glass bauble?” he asked in an old English dialect.