watched this bridge for centuries. You must think me a deceiver when I warn you of the danger.”
Elam glanced back at the swinging bridge again. “I believe it’s dangerous. I can see that for myself.”
She extended her hand toward Elam. “Then come with me. Join the others who have made an honest evaluation of their imperfect hearts and followed the path of realism. Is it not folly to stand alone in a dangerous place when you can walk safely in numbers?”
“Numbers mean nothing to me.” Elam tapped himself on his chest. “I’ve been alone most of my life. I have learned to follow the people I already trust, namely Enoch and Merlin. Merlin told me to find Glewlwyd, and Glewlwyd said I should cross the bridge, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
“You are listening to empty promises—mere words.” She reached for his hand. “I offer you reality. No one can really make this impossible passage. It is far too difficult.”
Elam pushed her hand down. “I think you’ve delayed me long enough. I’m going to cross.”
A sad smile thinned out her lips. “Very well.” She raised the hood over her head and lowered herself to her knees at the foot of the bridge. “I will pray for your crossing, though you will surely fall with the others. Only do not curse me as you plummet to your death, for I gave you fair warning.”
“That you did.” Turning abruptly, he stuffed the spyglass back in the bag. While gripping the ropes on each side of the bridge, he slid his foot out onto the first plank. Testing the next step with his other foot, he shifted his weight forward, hoping he could hang on if the plank broke. It held firm. The next plank, however, was already split, though not completely broken. Taking a longer step, he bypassed it and landed on the next plank. It snapped, and his leg plunged through, pulling his other leg with it. With one hand clinging to each of the upper ropes, he dangled, his chest at the level of the planks and his arms spread painfully wide.
“Oh, the folly!” The woman in red sang out. “The folly of those who think themselves holier and wiser than the sages who went before them!”
A new gust of wind jerked the bridge. One hand slipped off, and his shoulder bag slid down his arm. As he tried to grab the strap, his other hand slipped, but just before he could fall through the bridge, he slung his arms over the lower rope and hung on. His bag plunged into the depths, tossed about by the wind as it shrank in the distance of the apparently bottomless chasm.
The woman spread out her arms, making her cloak look like a pair of red wings. “Pride goeth before a fall, young man, and since your pride was so great, your fall will be great as well. The reality of the chasm will swallow you and prove the vanity of your imagined moral character.”
Elam gasped for breath, his heart pounding in his ears. The wind tossed the bridge, throwing his dangling legs into a swinging frenzy. Pulling up with all his might, he pushed his elbow over a plank and muscled his body higher until he could reach the next plank and pull again. With every two inches of progress, the bucking bridge shoved him back an inch and a half. Finally, grabbing plank after plank, he crept over the walkway and sprawled over the wooden steps, hanging on to each side rope as the bridge continued to sway.
“Do you still believe you will make it to the other side?” The woman’s voice rode the wind. “You survived only the first of many false steps, and the mishaps will only become more treacherous as you learn the true nature of this bridge. If you come back, I will hold no grudges and lead you to the safer way.”
Elam looked ahead. The other side of the chasm was still far in the distance. Twisting his neck, he looked back at the woman. She rose to her feet and held out her arms as if ready to carry him away. She wasn’t far at all. Just a short leap or two, and he’d be back to solid ground and safe in her grasp.
He clenched his fist. No! He couldn’t give up now! That would prove Merlin wrong and destroy everything he believed in! Pushing up to hands and knees, he crawled forward inch