Eye of the Oracle (5 page)
Thigocia stretched out her wings. “Makaidos!”
Samyaza landed on the opposite side of the bridge next to a sycamore and planted his bear-like feet. “Stay where you are,” he shouted, pointing at Thigocia, “or the lizard dies!”
“If he dies,” Thigocia roared, “then you will be a pile of charcoal at his side!”
Samyaza laughed. “More blustery hot air from a weak fire-breather.” He turned his gaze to Morgan, still prostrate on the bridge. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
With the sword pressed under her feet, Morgan stood slowly, spreading her arms to keep her balance. She rubbed her palms together as rain plastered her raven locks to her face. “Samyaza, my love. I am here to do your bidding. Did I not tell you that I would seek passage on this ridiculous boat and sabotage their mission?”
Japheth fumed. That witch had to die! He let go of the ropes and picked at the wet knot that fastened the bridge to a post on the ark’s parapet, pulling away thread after thread.
Thigocia spewed a twisting line of fire that snaked between Morgan and Japheth. She growled her words. “Give me Makaidos or my next breath turns your wife into a tallow candle!”
Samyaza waved a hand at Morgan. “Do you think I cannot find another dark-hearted wench to do my bidding? Go ahead and lick her with fire from head to toe. I’m not giving up my scaly prize so easily.”
Japheth gouged out a thick strand, loosening the knot. In just seconds, the bridge would collapse.
Morgan picked up the sword and inched her way toward the land side of the bridge. “Samyaza!” she shouted through the windswept rain. “I have learned the secret of the sword’s fire. If I burn, the secret dies with me.”
Japheth pressed his lips together and gave the knot a final pull. “Got it!” The rope slipped away from the ark. One edge of the bridge gave way, and Morgan tipped toward the trench. In a flash of light and black wings, Samyaza dropped Makaidos and caught Morgan in his massive arms. The demon landed next to the tree again, his body glowing red as he snatched the sword from his wife.
Morgan placed her palms on Samyaza’s cheeks, and her hands lit up like a pair of fiery tongs. The demon’s scarlet glow seemed to radiate into Morgan’s body as though he were bleeding into her fingertips. When he faded to a pale pink, Morgan released him, her own reddish tint seeming to energize her as Samyaza’s wobbling frame slowly shrank.
As the demon set her on the ground, Morgan’s skin returned to normal. She stood straight and set her fists on her hips, while Samyaza looked at her stupidly.
Japheth whispered to Thigocia. “The battle’s over! Get him! And get that sword, too. It must be a powerful weapon.”
Thigocia leaped over the side of the ark, her wings instantly whipping her body into a scaly, fire-blasting rocket. Dodging a sycamore tree, she blew a scorching wave of flames that flew inches above the demon’s head. She snatched the sword out of his hands with her teeth and slapped his face with her tail as she zoomed past.
Samyaza’s eyes darkened to pitch black. He toppled over, knocking Morgan down and pinning her. Thigocia arched in a wide circle, swinging around for another attack.
A loud roar sounded from above. Ten Watchers swooped toward the ground. One dragon after another darted out of the clouds, at least eight fire-breathers zooming in single-file pursuit of the demons.
Japheth clutched his ribs. All-out war was upon them, the great flood was at hand, and he could barely move! What could he possibly do to stop this catastrophe?
Feeling the bulge in his tunic, he pulled out Methuselah’s Ovulum. Maybe it could help. It had power of some kind. But what?
Chapter 3
The largest of the arriving Watchers, a square-jawed giant with red wings, landed next to Samyaza. “Make a barrier!” he bellowed. As the demons formed a ring around their fallen leader, Thigocia dropped the sword to the ark’s deck, completed her turn, and flew in tight ellipses, widening her orbit as she maneuvered nearer Makaidos, who lay motionless outside the demonic circle.
The other dragons attacked, blasting streaks of white-hot flames. The Watchers parried by shooting bolts of darkness from their eyes, keeping the dragons at bay. A huge, axe-wielding human stepped into the sycamore glade. Another followed him, a scar-faced man with battle leather strapped across his torso and a club in each hand. A third, the tallest yet, his head reaching the shoulder of the biggest Watcher, tromped into view carrying a long spear. He knelt at Morgan’s side and helped her to her feet.
Thigocia shuddered. Nephilim! She had to grab Makaidos before it was too late! Shooting a wall of fire for cover, she zoomed past the Watchers and Nephilim, latched onto Makaidos with her claws, and dragged him to the edge of the trench. She jerked back around, beating the wet air with her wings to keep her balance. The scene behind her was a blur of fire, steam, and black streaks dragons, Watchers, and giants in deadly conflict. One of the streaks shot past her head, barely missing her ear. Letting out a low groan, she adjusted her grip on Makaidos’s body. She had to get him to the ark, but how could she possibly carry him over the gap?
A dragon burst out of the melee Arramos, glowing hot with splashes of black goo speckling his red scales. He landed next to Thigocia, panting. “You take his neck . . . and I will take . . . his hind quarters.” Arramos gripped his son’s tail and a back leg with his claws. “Now!” he ordered.
Thigocia shoved her claws under Makaidos’s shoulder and draped his neck over her own. Gripping as much of his body as she could, she flapped her wings with all her might. They slowly lifted off the ground, Arramos taking the unprotected rear position as they inched toward the ark.
A black streak splattered against Arramos’s side. Another slapped him in the face. The two dragons pushed forward, beating the air and scattering thousands of water droplets. As they crested the side of the ark, Japheth, clutching his ribs with one arm, guided them to a clear spot on the deck. Shem burst from Adam’s Door, and the two humans, dodging flapping wings and swinging tails, helped the dragons gently lower the wounded body to the planks.
When all three dragons finally rested on the deck, Arramos bent over Makaidos, aiming his eyebeams at his son’s glazed pupils. “He is alive . . . but barely. Thigocia, your mother was a healer. It is time to learn whether or not you inherited her gift.”
“Should I just do what she always did?” she asked.
“Yes. Cover Makaidos with your wings and body. Quickly, now! There is no time to lose.”
Thigocia crawled over Makaidos’s body and lay on top of him, stretching her wings to cover as many of his scales as she could. Arramos breathed a low-power stream of fire at Thigocia’s tail, then at her wings, flanks, and back, until her scales glowed with a tawny-orange hue. Warmth radiated around her body, spreading through her wings and into Makaidos.
As the process continued, Thigocia kept an eye on the battle. The dark streaks now outnumbered the streams of fire, and blackened dragon bodies littered the battlefield, lying strewn on the ground as if draped by sooty quilts. Several Watchers lay among them, some writhing, some motionless. Two of the giants smoldered in a heap, but the largest Naphil stood erect, shaking his spear in the air.
Morgan walked out of the fog. As Watchers and Nephilim gathered around her, she marched toward the ark, lifting her purple-stained palm into the air. A shimmering field of sparks formed around the evil group. When the sparks clustered, a lightning bolt shot toward the ark. The bolt missed wide to the right, but the sparks reassembled, as if recharging after the first volley.
Shem pulled a sling and a stone from his pocket, spun the sling over his head, and hurled the stone at Morgan, but it bounced off her shield and tumbled to the ground. As he set a larger stone in the sling, Japheth grabbed his arm and held up the egg-like orb. “If we could figure out how to use this, maybe we’d stand a chance.”
Arramos snuffed his flames. “The Ovulum!” He nodded at Thigocia. “Stay on him. When your glow fades, you may get up.” He lumbered toward the humans. “Speak to the Eye of the Oracle,” he said. “He will give you guidance.”
Japheth laid the Ovulum in his palm. “You mean talk to the egg?”
“Exactly. I do not know who or what resides there, but I have seen the Oracle speak to it with reverence.”
Japheth glanced at Shem, who just shrugged his shoulders. Another bolt of lightning streaked across the deck and burned a hole in the parapet on the far side.
Arramos shot a ball of fire at Morgan’s company. The flames dented the shield and rolled over the dome before fizzling out on the ground behind them. The volley made them halt, at least for the moment. “Hurry!” Arramos ordered. “If the Watchers attack, we will never hold them off! They probably do not know we are the only dragons on board, or they would have attacked already.”
Japheth raised the Ovulum near his lips. “If you’re the Eye of the Oracle, I assume you know what’s going on out here. Please give us guidance. How can we save the ark?”
Red fog swirled within the orb and congealed into a scarlet eye. It stared at Japheth as if piercing his soul with its gaze. Shem, Japheth, and Arramos stared back at the eye, seemingly mesmerized as a translucent aura slowly grew around it, bathing Japheth’s hands in crimson.
Another bolt zipped into the ark, this time striking Thigocia’s tail, singeing the tiny scales on its spiny end. “Owww!” She shot up to her feet and dipped her tail in a rainwater pool. The orange glow pulsing from her scales faded. Had the healing treatment been enough to
Makaidos raised his head, blinking his eyes at the falling rain. “What happened?”
Thigocia pulled her tail from the puddle and flicked a stream of water at him. “It is about time you woke up,” she said, attempting a smile. “We are trying to figure out how to use the Ovulum to defend the ark. The sorceress is attacking, and she has new powers.” Thigocia extended her neck to get a closer look at the eye. It seemed to be speaking, though the words penetrated her mind rather than her ears. The voice was sad, almost mournful, as it chanted a lament.
A stream, a flow, a cleansing flood,
The tide that sweeps away our sin,
Is not of water, nor of earth.
The flood must purge our souls within.
The aura surrounding the orb swelled, covering the two brothers in brilliant scarlet robes of light that made their bodies look like pulsing beacons.
Today begins a worldly wash,
For man has lost the Eden way,
Regarding demons as his gods,
And dark of night he calls the day.
An ark, a savior from the wrath,
Foretells of yet another flood.
A king will build an ark of faith
And purge our hearts with holy blood.
The red glow engulfed the entire ark, creating a massive shield, and as it expanded, tentacles of scarlet light spread over its surface, slapping at anything within reach. Morgan and company drew back, their eyes widening.
Now take the orb and with a prayer
Release it to the weeping skies.
The gates of hell will seize their souls
And earth will bleed while heaven cries.
And then arise, defend the ark,
Protect it from the lightning stroke.
The patriarch shall wave the sword
And summon heaven’s shielding cloak.
The prophet’s eye is never lost.
It travels now to worthy maids,
Secure within the hands of love,
Returning where a curse is laid.
While Japheth and Shem continued to gape at the eye, the orb’s glow and spindly arms slowly contracted. Its aura sank below the roof of the top deck quarters. Morgan pointed at the ark and spread her arms once again as new lightning bolts formed on the surface of her dome shield.
Thigocia yelled, “Throw the Ovulum! Didn’t you hear the song?”
Japheth’s gaze shifted between her and the orb. “Song? What song?”
“It came from the eye! It said ‘release it to the weeping skies.’ Throw it now! As high as you can!”
Arramos clutched Japheth’s wrist. “Thigocia, the eye is a living orb, not a youngling’s plaything. We cannot afford to lose it.”
“Trust me,” Thigocia roared. “I heard what it said!”
Japheth and Shem stood motionless, their gazes riveted again on the Ovulum. The orb swelled, as if absorbing its own glow. As the shielding aura sank, nearly exposing their heads, the Ovulum expanded to the size of a grapefruit, red and throbbing.
The top of the ark was now exposed. A new lightning bolt zapped the roof, igniting a tiny fire.
With a quick swipe of her claws, Thigocia snatched the Ovulum from Japheth and leaped into the sky, her wings fighting heavy winds. Another lightning bolt streaked by, barely missing her head. Fighting a downburst of rain, she placed the Ovulum on the end of her tail and slung the orb into the clouds. The red glow followed, completely unveiling the ark, and disappeared from sight in the turbulent blackness above.
Thigocia hurried back to the deck. Morgan and the Watchers now stood at the precipice of the trench, a mere thirty feet from the bow of the ark. Morgan screamed a battle cry. The demons and Nephilim replied with guttural roars.
Sparks flew from Makaidos’s mouth, sprinkling Thigocia’s face. “What have you done?!”
“I obeyed the eye! It is not my fault you were deaf to its song.”
Arramos thumped his tail on the deck. “Quiet! Do not behave like younglings!” He lowered his voice. “Thigocia, did the Ovulum say anything else?”
“Yes.” She nudged the sword with her foreleg. “The patriarch is supposed to protect the ark with the sword. Something about waving it and making a cloak.”
“We must ” Arramos cast a glance at Morgan. She seemed to be directing the Watchers as they flew to surround the ark. The clouds above boiled bright red, sinking lower in the sky with every passing second. Arramos stretched his neck upward and let out an ear-splitting roar. With another thump of his tail, he growled a low whisper. “Trumpet! Now! Both of you!”
Makaidos and Thigocia raised their heads and poured out a stream of blaring trumpet sounds, shaking the deck, the ark, and the earth.
“Keep it up while I give my final commands. We must make them think this ark is filled with dragons.” He nodded toward Adam’s Door. “Shem and Japheth, send your father out here immediately, then make sure your families are safe. Makaidos, the Watchers will know we are few in number as soon as I attack them alone.”
Makaidos lowered his head. “Alone? But ”
“Trumpet!”
Makaidos trumpeted louder than ever. Shem and Japheth hustled into the quarters, Japheth pausing at the doorway, looking back at the dragons before ducking inside.
“You and Thigocia are the chosen pair,” Arramos continued. “When the flood recedes, you will repopulate the earth with our kind and once again serve the race of Adam.”
“Thigocia and me? Repopulate? But ”
“Makaidos!”
Makaidos trumpeted again, but his volume faded. The dark red clouds sank lower. Peals of thunder shook the ark, nearly knocking the dragons down.
“I know you want to fight,” Arramos continued, “but the battle against the corrupters is over. It is now up to the Maker to finish the war.” He nodded toward Adam’s Door. “Go now.”
The two young dragons silenced their trumpets and lowered their heads. New rolls of thunder replaced their blistering calls. Arramos leaped up to the parapet and looked back with a large tear in each eye. “Good-bye, my son. I am proud of you. You will make a fine king.” He flapped his wings and lifted off. With a sudden turn and sweep of his tail, he dove toward the circle of demons.
Makaidos lunged toward the parapet, slipping on the rain-slicked planks. Thigocia joined him and craned her neck over the side. Blasting waves of fire, Arramos shattered Morgan’s shield and slammed into the wall of Watchers and Nephilim. At least three Watchers collapsed, and the spear-wielding Naphil fell into the trench. Arramos tumbled to the ground, rolling into another Watcher and crushing his body. The other Watchers leaped toward Arramos, waves of darkness streaming from their eyes.
Makaidos jumped to the top of the parapet and unfurled his wings. “I have to help him!”
Thigocia snatched his tail in her claws and pulled him back to the deck. “Are you going to disobey your father’s last command?”
“I am not going to let him die without a fight!”
“Are you so selfish that you are willing to end the dragon race because of your lust for battle?”
“It is not lust for battle! I just want to save my father!”
“Then save him by obeying him! His legacy will die forever if you don’t.”
Makaidos turned back toward the battlefield, stretching his neck high. Thigocia followed his line of sight. With blankets of darkness smothering Arramos, all she could see were his ruby eyes, his gaze focused on the ark, pleading . . . begging. She heard a voice in her mind, faint and trembling. “Go . . . now . . . let me know . . . you are safe . . . before I die.”
She spoke slowly, dreamily, yet with firm resolve. “Makaidos. We must go . . . now!”
“I cannot leave my father!” He stretched out his wings and lifted into the air.
“We must go!” Thigocia bit his tail and yanked him from the sky.
Makaidos twisted and jerked his tail away. “Don’t make me fight you!”
Red light flashed from one end of the ark to the other, casting a blood-like shroud over the deck, its glow seeming to carry a loud, bass hum that shook every grain in every plank. The dragons looked up, trembling. A ball of scarlet fire hovered just below the clouds, pulsing, throbbing like a luminescent heart. It seemed that an aging sun was sinking to the earth, blushing red and vibrating in the throes of death.
