the horizon. He laid the flower on his ear, drew out the spyglass again, and searched ahead. A low dark rise loomed in the distance. Finally! Could it be a line of trees? The Forest of Molech?
He stuffed the glass into the bag and clutched the flower. “I’d better get there before dark,” he said, breaking into a jog.
The sun slid down the sky, and evening draped itself across the field, but not before the forest came into view of Elam’s naked eye. Minutes later, just as darkness began settling over the land, he arrived within a few yards of the edge. The grass ended abruptly, giving way to damp black dirt, pockmarked with squatty orange toadstools. The soil reeked of decay—rotted leaves and mold, and maybe even carrion mixed in somewhere.
He peered into the forest. With only a few stars twinkling above, he couldn’t even distinguish one tree from another. As he continued to stare, tiny red lights blinked on and off deep within the woods.
“Eyes!” Elam said out loud. The pairs of red points gathered together, drawing closer by the second. Now dozens of eyes approached the edge of the forest, their glowing beacons shining brighter, harsh and hateful.
He backpedaled into the grass and crouched, holding his breath. The eyes closed in, then halted at the tree line, but there seemed to be no shape or silhouette, no head or body surrounding the lights. The darkness blended every movement into warped shadows.
He exhaled as slowly and silently as possible, but they must have heard him breathe, or maybe smelled his breath. The crimson eyes began bouncing up and down, as if they were owned by excited monkeys. Grunts and shrieks erupted, but the creatures stayed put at the tree line. Soon, the din grew to a fevered pitch, and the creatures howled, some with pained wails.
Elam crouched even lower. Could they be fighting?
The howls suddenly stopped, and a strange soft light filtered into the trees. He glanced at the horizon to his right. A full moon peeked over the field, sending its yellowish beams across grass, flowers, and forest.
White vapor arose between him and the trees, like steam from a heated pot. It coalesced into a humanlike phantom with long, elastic arms that reached toward the woods. The eyes scattered, blinking off as the creatures turned and ran.
Staying low, Elam caught a glimpse of what looked like human or apelike legs in retreat, so whatever these things were, they must have been bipeds. But what could that vapor be?
As the moon’s full disc appeared, the phantom dispersed, and the entire scene brightened. The trees looked like tall hardwoods with bushy tops and trunks stripped of branches to about head height. A few moonbeams illuminated the forest floor, which seemed bare, perhaps leaf-strewn, except for a strange lump at the base of one of the trunks. He studied the lump but couldn’t figure out what it was. Another mystery, but it would have to wait for morning.
Using his cloak as a pillow, he lay down in the grass and folded his hands on his chest, still clutching the red flower. Although the surrounding air was still warm from the daytime heating, a tingle crawled along his skin, making him shiver. The strange creatures in the woods, their ghoulish red eyes, and their bestial wails were enough to give anyone a chill. Not only that, with its long, gaseous arms, the phantom had looked more like a ghost than a random cloud of gas, and anything that would frighten away those forest devils had to be more than just a passing vapor.
Elam closed his eyes and nestled deeper in his cloak. “It’s still safer out here,” he murmured. “It would be crazy to go in those woods in the dark.”
As he closed his eyes and drifted toward sleep, a soft voice whispered in his ear. “Yes, son of Shem. When danger is near, always stay in the light.”
Chapter 4
THE PRISM ORACLE
Thigocia kept her eyes trained on the red dragon in front of her, the creature calling himself Arramos. Staying above the clouds, they had flown rapidly for over an hour, faster than she had traveled since before her days as a human. To this point, her questions about their destination and time of arrival had been answered with, “You will soon learn,” giving her good reason to believe what her sense of danger continued to blare—trouble lay ahead.
Arramos finally slowed and flew side by side with Thigocia. As their wing