rhythm. Michael placed a hand over its eyes. “Awake, King of Second Eden, Father of the Forsaken. You will be called the Prophet, but the Holy One has named you Abraham, for you will be a father to the castoffs of the wicked realm.”
Abraham’s eyes blinked open, and he sat up. “Where am I?” His head swiveled as he gazed at each angel.
“At Heaven’s lower altar,” Michael replied. “You died on the Earth as Arramos, but you are not called to ascend into the holy city. You will rule over a world God has created, but now in human form instead of your dragon body.”
Abraham laid a hand on his chest and caressed his smooth skin. “Will I join my family? Shachar? Hilidan? Zera?”
“A day will come when you will be reunited, but for now, I will take you to your new world.”
As Abraham sat up, Uriel laid a bundle of clothing on the altar. “Purity and innocence will not dress you adequately in this Eden,” he said. “It is much colder than the first Paradise.”
Michael and Uriel helped Abraham dress in multiple layers, finishing with a long-sleeved tunic, pants tied at the waist, and soft leather shoes that rose above his ankles. Michael laid an arm over Abraham’s back, and the other angels began to fly around them, orbiting faster and faster until they were a blur of faces and wings.
Soon, their surroundings faded away, and a new scene emerged—a bird’s-eye view of a lush valley with a wide river meandering through thick greenery—grassy areas as well as dense forests. Now carrying Abraham, Michael flew to the ground and set him gently in an expansive basin where long-bladed grass emerged from dark, loamy soil.
“This is your garden,” Michael said, “but you must not plant anything here. You will learn soon enough what fruit is to be harvested.” An egg-shaped glass orb appeared in his hands. “Enoch’s Ghost will teach you what you need to know. Take it. You will learn quickly.”
When Abraham made a cradle with his hands, Michael rolled the egg into his grasp. Then, without another word, he lifted into the sky and flew away.
Abraham stood alone. As a stiff breeze flapped his tunic, he shivered. After surveying the landscape for a moment, he made his way to a nearby woods, marring the wet soil with the first footprint the virgin land had ever carried.
“So,” Abraham said as the ovulum faded, “with only a few puzzling words and a strange glass orb to guide my way, I was commissioned to occupy this ‘Second Eden.’ Yet, I had no Eve to help me populate the world and no pair of trees to give me either eternal life or spiritual death. I had no idea what to do, though one of the first things I did was to name stars in the sky after my lost loved ones, including my mate, Shachar, and you and Thigocia.”
“So that explains the stars.” Timothy turned toward the open door. A pair of villagers passed by, a man followed by a woman on a donkey. “I see you found a way to forge a fine community. I am amazed at their gracious manner and kindness.”
As another shadow crossed the light from the doorway, Abraham rose from his chair. “Angel!” he said, “you arrived almost before the sun! Welcome!”
Timothy shot up and smoothed out his hair and wrinkled clothes. “Yes! Welcome!”
Her head slightly bowed and her eyes trained on Timothy, she walked in, wearing a dress with sleeves that reached the heels of her hands and a skirt so long, its draft swept the floor. Two children followedCandle, his dark face framing his brilliant smile, and Listener, pale and gaunt. Although her eyes sparkled, she neither smiled nor frowned. Their hovering companions also sparkled in the ray of sunlight passing over the three visitors’ shoulders.
Timothy made a quick, silent count of the semitransparent orbs. Four companions? Why would that be?
“You haven’t been introduced to Listener,” Angel said, nodding toward the girl. “Listener, this is our new friend, Timothy.”
Timothy bent to one knee and took her hand. “It’s my pleasure.”
Listener just blinked and said nothing. Two companions whirled around her head and paused, one over each shoulder. The girl’s skin was rough, with shallow lines dividing small leathery patches, even worse than it had seemed at the hospital.
“She doesn’t talk,” Candle explained. “But I think I already told you that.”
“Yes, I remember.” Timothy rose and lifted his eyebrows at Angel, mouthing his question silently, “Two?”