by inch, grasping each plank so tightly the ragged edges cut into his hands. Every gust halted his progress, making him steel his arms to keep from toppling over the side as the bridge swung to a precarious angle. Each time it settled, he forged ahead, more confident that the planks would hold now that his weight was distributed over four points of pressure rather than two.
After what seemed like an hour, Elam reached the lowest part of the sagging bridge. He looked back again. The woman in red stood there, much farther away than before, but his destination seemed no closer at all. And now that he was at the lowest point, the bridge swung more wildly than ever.
His hands now aching, he pushed on, gripping the crossbars ever tighter as he crawled up the swaying incline. Another hour passed, and another. Still, the other side seemed far away, not an inch closer than when he started. But it had to be closer. It didn’t make any sense to move toward something and not make any progress.
He pressed forward, closing his eyes to shut out the bottomless canyon and the seemingly unreachable goal at the end of the bridge. Plank by plank, they would eventually all pass under his hands and knees. There couldn’t be an infinite number. That would be impossible.
Glewlwyd’s words came back to his mind. “In your world, yes, but here you must get accustomed to many new realities.” Then the taunts from the woman in red echoed. “The mishaps will only become more treacherous as you learn the true nature of this bridge.”Elam looked ahead again and sighed. Still no closer. How could that be? Since he had been crawling upward for hours, he had to be way past the midpoint. Was that the bridge’s true nature, that it really was endless?
Sprawling once again, he rested and let the bridge swing his body in a peaceful sway, like a baby in a windblown cradle. He was too tired to go on. The other side was just too far away. The infinite was simply beyond his grasp.
A voice whispered in his ear. “Have you given up the quest, Elam?”
He jerked his head up. No one was in sight. “Who said that?”
“I am an old friend. Close your eyes and ease your mind, for only rest will prepare you for the long journey ahead.”
“Your voice is familiar.” Laying his head back down, Elam closed his eyes and yawned. “Where have we met?”
The voice was soft and soothing. “Many times in many places, but that is not important. For now, you must sleep.”
“But if I sleep, I might roll off the bridge.”
“No one who trusts in the bridge will ever fall off.”
“But I almost did, way back at the beginning. The steps broke.”
“True enough, but after you lost your bag and crawled, how many steps gave way?”
Elam brought the sight of thousands of stepping planks into his mind. “None gave way. But the wind made it almost impossible to crawl, and I just can’t seem to get to the end. It never gets any closer.”
“Storms blow on us all, and the goal seems unattainable to the mortal mind, to those who believe in their inability to take hold of what is freely given.”
“So what do I do?”
The voice blended in with the whistling wind. “Reflect on these signs. Rely on the bridge. Rest in your faith. Only then can you do the impossible.”
As the breeze rocked him back and forth, Elam relaxed his grip and rode with the swing. He let his mind drift, recalling all the years of suffering at Morgan’s hands, the months of hunger, backbreaking work, flea-infested flophouses in Glasgow, and worst of all, the endless days of separation from Sapphira Adi, the only girl he could ever imagine as his wife. Even after thousands of years of knowing her, the time for their union was still far in the future, years that seemed as numerous as the planks on the bridge. There was too much to do—journeys that couldn’t wait.
Soon, he was asleep, dreaming of the trials of yesterday. In his dream, he put Morgan and Naamah into his shoulder bag, then the coal-stained cap he always wore at the Glasgow shipyards, and finally, a gold band, a wedding ring, pausing to gaze at it for a moment before he let it drop inside.
Standing at the center point of the bridge, he slung the bag into the chasm, then, not bothering to watch it