forgiven you for all that you have done. You will wander in the Bridgelands until someone comes who takes pity on you and covers your nakedness. He will have the fruit of righteousness within him, and the blood of eternal life runs through his veins. If you want to prove your repentance, then serve him in righteousness for as long as he has need of your wisdom, and he will offer you the life you seek.’
“‘But I have no wisdom,’ I said to him. ‘I am a harlot, as you have rightfully proclaimed, so what good would I be to such a man?’
“Then he said, ‘I will teach you what you need to know.’
“After his teaching, the angel took me to this forest and left me here alone. I have since spent many nights waiting for deliverance, yet the men who have come by have only offered to expose me further, attacking me and tearing my clothes, but they were struck blind and wandered away before they could do me more harm.”
Naamah sighed and lowered her head. “And now here I am.”
“I’m the one who covered you,” Elam said, “so I guess you’re supposed to tell me what you learned.”
“But it is such a mystery! The angel showed me the face of a mountain, like a tall slab of marble, that drew pictures on itself as he sang. He told me that I should lead my new master to the cliff and that the words of a new song would alter the scenes and explain what my master needed to know. I didn’t understand the drawing or the angel’s song, so how can I explain them to you? And I don’t even know where the cliff is. How can I possibly lead you to it?” Naamah spread out her hands and sighed. “Since I didn’t have a chance to ask the angel before he left, these thoughts have tortured me ever since. And now that I have found my new master, how can I ever gain the eternal life that flows in his blood, since I’m unable to do this task?”
“I know of a cliff that holds drawings,” Dikaios said. “It is far, but I think we can reach it before we tire.”
Elam stood and brushed off his pants. “Then, if you would be so kind, good horse, please lead the way.”
Dikaios snorted and gazed at Elam. “Most unusual, indeed.” He turned toward a high ridge in the distance and loped away.
Elam reached for Naamah. “Shall we follow?”
“If it pleases you,” she replied, taking his hand. “But I fear that I will disappoint you greatly.”
After a few minutes of walking, they came to a grassy field striated with bands of knee-high red flowers. More stones than usual littered the grass, most smaller than hens’ eggs, but a few would have taken both hands to lift. Dikaios picked up the pace, avoiding the random stripes of nodding blossoms, and pulled ahead by about forty feet.
Elam quickened his gait to match the horse’s, but Naamah slipped away and waded into one of the flower beds.
“We’d better get going,” Elam said, waving his hand. “He’s leaving us behind.”
“Wait!” Naamah bent over and picked three red flowers. “The aroma is so sweet!” She ran up to him and pressed the petals up to his nose. “You see?”
Elam sniffed. The smell was sweet … dizzying. He backed away, feeling confused. “Dikaios!” he shouted. “Wait a minute!”
Hoofbeats sounded. “Get rid of those flowers!” the horse yelled.
Naamah threw them to the ground. Dikaios grabbed Elam’s sleeve with his teeth and pulled him away from the garden while Naamah followed, her head bowed.
When they were in a clear, grassy area, Dikaios let go. “Those flowers are for weary travelers,” he said. “The scent helps them get to sleep quickly.”
Naamah yawned and laid a hand on her brow. “They work very well.” Lowering herself to the ground, she yawned again and stretched her body across a soft bed of grass. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help it. I have to rest.” The moment her head touched the ground, she fell asleep.
Elam rubbed his eyes. “It’s got me, too.” Yawning, he looked at Dikaios. “How long does it last?”
“It depends on how deep a draught you took and how tired you are. When did you last sleep?”
Elam shook his head, barely able to see through the fog building in his vision. “I had a pretty bad night’s sleep in the second circle of Hades, but I don’t know how long