Angel bowed low and pulled Timothy into a bow with her. “It is always an honor serving you, Father.”
As they straightened, the Prophet tapped the surface of the ovulum. “Enoch tells me that your home has need of your presence, though I don’t know the reason. You must hurry there immediately.”
Angel’s brow furrowed, but, as her hovering companion nuzzled her cheek, no other hint of concern broke through. She bowed again and walked backwards toward the door. “I am at your service, Father.” Once she reached the threshold, she turned and ran.
The Prophet motioned toward a chair on the opposite side of the table. “Sit, friend, and we will talk. I have long awaited this opportunity.”
Timothy slid into the chair. He fidgeted, pressing the toes of his shoes against the dirt floor. He fumbled with his hands before deciding to fold them on the table. A beam of light from a small hole in the roof struck an array of dangling crystalline beads on the adjacent wall, giving the entire room a rainbow-spattered glow and coloring his nervous fingers with dancing hues.
“There is no need to be anxious,” the Prophet said, covering Timothy’s hands with his own. “You will find no evil in my home.”
“I detect none.” Timothy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I am perplexed by mystery. I remember my name … Timothy … but little else.” He quickly scanned the space around the Prophet’s head, but the strange lighting must have kept his companion hidden in shadows.
“You may call me Abraham.” The Prophet caressed the glass egg as its glow flooded his fingers in red light. “I think I might be able to help you learn more about yourself.”
“Okay,” Timothy said, flattening his hands on the table. “I’m all ears.”
Abraham chuckled. “That is a fine idiom. I will remember to teach it to my people.”
“I noticed that they use idioms I’ve heard before, but some of mine are foreign to them.”
“That’s because as I learn them, I pass some along and keep others to myself.” Abraham pressed his finger on the glass. “But I learn much more than simple idioms. I taught my people several languages, finally settling on English as it became the language of a certain prophet on Earth I used to watch. Also, most of our technology comes from what I was able to copy by studying what you have in your world.”
Timothy pointed at himself. “My world? I’m not from this planet?”
“I believe you come from another realm and dimension, one that I have watched for countless years.” Abraham gazed into the red glass. “But the fact that another world exists should not shock you. Many authors in your realm have speculated such things, so the idea is not foreign to your people.”
“Maybe not so foreign, but reading about a new realm feels a lot safer than suddenly showing up in one.” Timothy leaned closer to the ovulum. “You can see my world in there?”
“And much more.” With a curled finger, he signaled for Timothy to peer into the strange egg. “This orb is called Enoch’s Ghost. It is the twin of one the great prophet Enoch possessed long ago, and he now often speaks through this very glass to give us a window to other worlds—to your world, to worlds of the afterlife, and to Heaven itself. It also replays the annals of times gone by.”
Timothy looked inside. “I see a dark chamber and a girl with white hair and brilliant blue eyes.”
“I have seen her many times,” Abraham said, “almost always in that dark room. I don’t know why Enoch shows her to me from time to time, but I perceive greatness in her. She has suffered cruel treatment over the years, but she has overcome every challenge.”
Entranced by her sapphiric eyes, Timothy drew closer. “She is mesmerizing. Do you know her name?”
“Only through a brief song Enoch sings about her on occasion.”
Timothy pointed at the glass. “The ovulum sings to you?”
“Oh, yes.” Abraham laughed softly. “Before any rooster considers crowing, Enoch makes sure I arise bright and early with a song, and he grants me encore performances throughout the day.”
The image of the girl faded, leaving only a swirling red fog within. Timothy settled back in his chair. “Can you sing the one about the girl?”
Abraham cleared his throat. “My voice is no match for Enoch’s, but the song is short enough to keep you from seeking a rock to hide under.” He took