From the Mouth of Elijah

Exhale despair.

  Each day expires

  Without a prayer.

  And the song continued, repeating again and again. Although countless voices joined the chorus and sang the words together, each one followed a unique melody, though always haunting. Had the lonely ghost rejoined the choir? Even if so, he probably still had no friends. The singers were together, yet alone, sharing the same torture, but never commiserating. Hades wouldn’t allow such comfort.

  New voices bounced through the chamber.

  “Stop fighting!” A man’s voice, sharp and angry.

  “No! Please, please! I’ll do anything you ask! Just don’t—”

  Lauren gulped. A young person? The wandering ghost?

  As the words volleyed from left to right and back again, Lauren swung her head from side to side, barely able to breathe. No one was anywhere in sight.

  “You must! You won’t suffer. Death will come quickly.”

  “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

  “You’ll go in, you little mongrel, even if I have to pry you loose—” A grunt sounded. Scratching noises followed, then a scream.

  The scream faded as if carried away by the wind. After a few seconds, silence ensued.

  Lauren gasped for breath. What could it mean? Did Hades replay tragic deaths that happened before people came to this horrid afterlife? Might the spirit of that victim be the one who spoke earlier?

  The laments continued, as if affirming her thoughts.

  She lifted a loose sweatshirt sleeve and mopped her brow. This place was too sad for words. These poor souls would be here forever. Forever! Suffering without relief! No matter how much they regretted their mistakes or prayed for forgiveness, they would never be granted pardon. Never.

  She bowed her head. Who were these people? Her foster mother and Micaela probably escaped this place. But her foster father? He had some issues everyone tried to ignore, but they weren’t that bad, were they? Was his voice among the hopeless singers?

  She laid a hand on her chest. And who’s to say that I won’t come here when I die?

  As the laments continued filtering into her soul, her father’s final thoughts returned. I love you. Never forget that.

  “Dad,” she whispered, “I wish you were here. It’s so lonely in the dark.”

  She covered her face and wept.

  Chapter 8

  A CALL FROM THE PIT

  Joran strummed his lyre, playing the tune that once raised Bonnie’s image. Ever since the one success in the jail’s medical room, every attempt failed, but it couldn’t hurt to try again. A shallow layer of snow covered the prison yard, and sunlight glimmered on the icy surface, creating a glare. The blizzard was long gone, but it had left its mark. Snow and bitter cold were new experiences, unpleasant ones, but it could have been a lot worse.

  He squinted through the strings. Only hours earlier, after the battle ended, the snowstorm continued and quickly coated the mud with a blanket of white, hiding tank tracks and boot prints that once gave evidence of a battleground. Now all proof was gone. Equipment and guards vanished through a portal, and Captain Boone, the highest-ranked officer still in the compound, had transported all prisoners to other locations, leaving the base deserted.

  Yet the Captain himself remained on duty, now tromping through the snow at the perimeter of the yard away from everyone else, searching for the candlestone bullets the guards had used against the dragons. Chatting on a phone while he walked near some of the demolished barracks, he didn’t seem concerned that the prisoners’ abodes had been smashed or burned by dragons and tanks, nor did it seem to be a problem that the fence cordoning off the prison’s high-security area had been bulldozed. He was at ease—strangely so.

  Joran pushed the lyre under his parka, a warm and welcome gift from the Captain, and buttoned the front to keep the instrument in place. The sonic rods were already secure in a pouch attached to his belt. He and Selah might not need them again, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep them close.

  Several steps away, Selah stood with Walter and Ashley. Her own parka nearly swallowing her, Selah cradled the green ovulum that still held Zohar and Mendallah. Joran smiled at the care she took. She had said earlier that putting it in a pocket might tilt it too much. She didn’t want their friends to slide to the edge.

  Her prison-issued boots pushing through the snow, Selah shuffled his way. When she arrived, she leaned her head against his chest. “Joran, do you hear what I hear?”

  Joran stroked her dark hair. It was soft and smooth and smelled of flowers, a fragrance in the soap from the prison shower. “I don’t hear anything in particular.”

  Backing away a step, she looked up at him. “That’s what I mean. Before the Watchers invaded our region, there was always a song in the air. I was hoping that when we finally escaped the ovula we might be able to hear the song again.”

  He nodded. “Right. The song of the purity ovulum. But Bonnie carries that now.”

  “I know, and I can’t hear her anymore.” Tears gleamed in her eyes. “Do you think she’s dead already?”

  Firming his lips, he shook his head. “I can’t believe that. I won’t believe it. God wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “Like he wouldn’t let Father die?” One of the tears tracked down her cheek. “Or maybe we’re losing our gift. The lyre isn’t working, and we can’t hear like we used to.”

  “I was wondering about that.” Kicking through the snow, he nodded toward Ashley and Walter. While Walter punched numbers into a phone, Ashley held a gun-like photometer and aimed it at various angles as she hunted for traces of a portal. With a four-inch purple bruise on her cheek, she looked like she had recently lost a fight, but her determined aspect showed no signs of pain.

  “Right now,” Joran said, “I can’t hear what Ashley is saying to Walter unless I really concentrate.” He shrugged. “Before the flood, I could have heard her heartbeat from here.”

  “Me, too. And I can’t hear what Captain Boone is saying on his phone.” Still holding the ovulum, Selah spread out her arms. “If we’re no longer Listeners, then what good are we?”

  “We can sing. I heard you singing one of Father’s psalms just a little while ago, and I know my voice is still strong.”

  Selah let out a forlorn sigh. “Then maybe God will use us in that way. Maybe we can still counter demon songs and make sound barriers with our voices.”

  “We’ll help in whatever way we can.” He tousled her hair. “Come on. Let’s find out what Walter and Ashley are talking about.”

  Joran walked their way. When he drew near, his shoe bumped a closed metal box, shaking the candlestone bullets they had already collected. “Any progress?”

  Ashley turned off her photometer and bundled her coat close to her body. A gust blew her hair into a frenzy, but she didn’t bother to tame it. “Larry’s still analyzing. He’s taking longer than usual.”

  Her words echoed in buzzes from Walter’s mouth, relayed by his tooth transmitter. Obviously Ashley had inserted one in her mouth as well, though she didn’t have any chips remaining for two out-of-place children of Methuselah.

  Joran sighed. At least the chips proved that his ears were still sensitive enough to hear scratchy words from inside someone’s mouth.

  Walter clasped Joran’s shoulder. “Something wrong?”

  Averting his eyes, Joran shook his head. “Not really.”

  “Not really?” Walter stepped into Joran’s line of sight. “Hey, we’re in this together. If something’s bugging you, maybe you should—”

  “Are we in this together?” Joran locked his stare on Walter. “Is there really anything left for us to do here beyond what we’ve already done?”

  They maintained their stare for a moment. Walter’s aspect slowly changed from concerned to thoughtful to surrendered. “I guess I see what you mean.”

  “I hope you’re not offended by my question. This is my problem and Selah’s, no
t yours.”

  “Not offended at all.” Walter released Joran’s shoulder. “I just wish I could help.”

  Selah brushed snow from the grass with a boot. “I don’t think there are any more candlestones. I have searched everywhere.”

  Walter picked up the box and plucked a candlestone from inside. “Since Barlow’s not in any of these, should I get rid of them?”

  “Not yet.” Ashley fingered a dial on her photometer. “They might be useful. Just make sure they don’t get lost.”

  Joran stared at the tiny stone. Since he and Selah had been stuck inside a series of ovula for years, it wasn’t too hard to believe that a person could live within that little bead. Yet, Ashley’s photometer didn’t find impurities in any of them. Whatever had happened, dead or alive, Sir Barlow wasn’t there. He had been transported to another place or else disintegrated completely.

  Walter closed the box and locked it with a key. After setting the box on the ground and pushing the key into his pocket, he turned to Joran and Selah. “Think of any more questions? If I don’t know an answer, I can either look it up or make it up.”

  They both shook their heads. During the past hour, they asked him hundreds of questions about the world—the people, their customs, the government, and faith. Sometimes Walter’s answers were funny or sarcastic, but it wasn’t hard to figure out the truth behind his humorous quips. In any case, one fact became clear. This wasn’t their world. It was blind and deaf, though far from mute. In some ways it was similar to the world they left before the flood, spiritually barren and lost. It seemed that the waters did little to cleanse the land of corruption.

  Captain Boone tromped toward them, his hands in his pockets and his head low. When he arrived, he looked at Walter, though really past him as he didn’t quite focus. “I couldn’t find any candlestones. I think I’ll go check on Mardon.”

  Joran narrowed his eyes. The Captain’s voice seemed strained, troubled perhaps.

  “Sure,” Walter said. “No use us all freezing our fannies off.”

  Captain Boone pointed at the ground. “So all of you are staying right here? Here in this yard?”

  “For now.” Walter shrugged. “Why? Are you getting some hot cocoa ready for us?”

  “I can arrange that.” Without another word, Captain Boone marched toward the high-security area of the prison.

  Walter laid a hand on Ashley’s back. “Did you get a reading on his thoughts? He looked kind of strange.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t paying attention. Too many other things to concentrate on.”

  “Right. The spectral analysis.” He stepped back. “Carry on.”

  Ashley pressed the photometer’s button with one hand and her jaw with the other. “Larry, do you have enough data?”

  “More data would be better,” the computer replied through Ashley’s tooth chip, “but based on the samples, it is clear that you are in the midst of a large portal, though it is currently closed. Lois has been comparing the measurements to those of all known portal encounters. The delay is due to wait times generated by other computer systems that are storing the data we need.”

  “Any matches so far?”

  “There are no exact matches. It is possible that this portal leads to a realm you have not visited in the past.”

  “Maybe,” Ashley said, “but there are portals we’ve been through that you don’t have data for.”

  “If that is the case, then my conclusion is invalid, but lack of data input is not a factor I am able to control.”

  “We’re not playing a blame game here. Let’s just stick to the facts.” She kept her photometer trigger pressed. “If we had Apollo, could you program a flash to open it?”

  “Affirmative, but there is danger. This portal appears to be large, so opening it could cause anyone in the vicinity to be transported immediately.”

  Walter nodded. “It was a hungry one. It swallowed tanks and a detachment of soldiers. But they fell into lava while Matt flew away into the sky. A deadly plunge into fire or a dangerous slingshot ride into oblivion. Take your pick.”

  “I am unable to determine the destination,” Larry said, “but the presence of lava and sky in the same location suggests a volcano.”

  Ashley turned her back to the wind. “Got anything else?”

  “Our analysis is complete. If you gather more data—”

  Silence ensued from Ashley’s tooth transmitter. Only the sound of the breeze whispered through their parkas.

  “Larry?” Ashley bowed her head, apparently trying to keep the wind out of her ears. “Larry, is something wrong?”

  Walter’s brow knitted. “I hear someone shuffling papers. The communication line is open. I think I hear Carly’s voice, but she doesn’t sound upset.”

  “Larry!” Ashley barked. “Update! Now!”

  “I am receiving a stream of data from an unexpected source. Please wait a moment.”

  “What kind of data? Voice?”

  “One more moment, please. I am receiving a second stream. Lois is compiling the results. We will send you video as soon as possible.”

  “Video?” Ashley retrieved a phone from her pocket and looked at the screen. “Are you able to send it to my phone?”

  “Affirmative. Walter provided updated access codes for all communication devices.”

  “What’s the source of the data feed?”

  “Hades.”

  Ashley blinked. “Hades? Did Billy send it?”

  “He did not. I will now stream the file to you. Be ready to capture it.”

  Ashley slid her thumb across her screen and tapped an icon. “Ready.”

  A video played showing a hazy landscape. As the camera panned from left to right, a muffled voice came through. “This is Lauren Bannister. I used Apollo to open a portal, and now my feet are on a truss near the top of the museum room in Hades while my head is sticking out at least a hundred feet above a volcano crater. I suppose if a dragon flew by, he would see half a girl floating in midair.”

  Ashley pointed. “That’s Twin Falls River. She’s in Second Eden.”

  “According to the map,” Lauren continued, “I should be on top of Mount Elijah, but I guess it blew its stack.” The camera panned across scorched logs and burning debris in the midst of boulders strewn all about, then down to the crater itself, a cauldron of bubbling lava. “I suppose it’s like Mount Saint Helens. The whole top must have exploded and sent rocks flying everywhere. I can’t imagine how many people died. I don’t even know how many people were in Second Eden to start with. Anyway, I hear my mother’s song clearly, so she’s probably here in Second Eden.”

  The video suddenly switched to Lauren’s face, now in a darker room with a flashlight beam shining on her. Soot smudged her cheeks and forehead, and orange light flickered in her eyes. “Well,” she said with a tremor in her voice, “I have a lot to tell you, but I’d better make it quick. I guess you could say I’m stuck in Hades. Dad and I made the portal jump, but a couple of guys ambushed us. Dad left Apollo with me on the Hades side while he tried to help his mom on the Earth side. As the portal was closing, he told me to go it alone to find my mother, but he also said not to come back through the portal, that they would probably post a guard there. So unless you can somehow signal me that there aren’t any guards, my only way out is through the top of the volcano I showed you. I suppose a dragon could fly up and maybe grab me and give me a ride down, but I didn’t see any dragons anywhere. I hope Makaidos and the others made it back to Second Eden … or maybe I hope not if the explosion would have killed them.”

  She held a small glass object in her fingers. “I tried to send this through Apollo. There are a bunch of them on the shelves near the portal opening. Some kind of grit and hair are stuck inside on the bottom, and they smell like burnt leather. I can’t imagine why someone would be conducting an experiment up there, unless they needed lava for some reason. Anyway, I thought you might like to che
ck it out, assuming Larry received it. Sitting here alone in Hades, it’s impossible to tell what’s going on outside. It’s just dark … and lonely … and …”

  Selah whispered, “Be brave, Lauren.”

  Joran took Selah’s hand and agreed silently.

  Lauren bit her lip. With tears sparkling, she continued, her tremor increasing. “I heard footsteps a little while ago. There’s a knife in my backpack, but I’m not sure if I should get it. If there’s a demon or something in here, I doubt I could kill it, and I don’t want it to take the knife from me and …” She swallowed, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, smearing the soot, and went on. “The tree of life is here, and one twig is still burning. I guess the flood couldn’t douse all of it.” She managed a tremulous smile. “After all, it’s the tree of life, right? Anyway, it helps. Its light makes me feel better, but I’m a sitting duck, so I should hide somewhere. Trust me. There are plenty of dark places to choose from.”

  She glanced from side to side before looking at the camera again. “I suppose if you can’t get a dragon to pick me up, the best thing to do would be to clear out the guards from the portal I came through. Of course, I won’t know that you succeeded unless you can somehow send a reply to Apollo. I don’t know if that’s possible or how I would know you sent something, but I’ll try to figure out how to download its memory to my phone. I’ll just keep checking.” The scene shifted to a tree with a single flame at the end of a branch, then a panning view of bookshelves with books and scrolls before going blank.

  Ashley tapped her phone a couple of times. “Larry, are you in communication with Apollo now?”

  “I am not. I cannot read Apollo’s passive data while it resides in another dimension. The digital transfer option requires active manipulation by the operator, so Apollo is able to receive only if Lauren switches it to that mode. I attempted a response to Lauren’s message, but Apollo would not synchronize, so we must assume that Lauren is not yet aware of the setting or perhaps something has happened to Apollo.”

  Ashley’s hair blew in front of her face, but she ignored it. “If Lauren figured out how to send data, she’s smart enough to figure out how to receive it.”