“I’ve thought about that too many times to count. I think ”
A low moan sounded from the abyss, growing in volume as voices of varying pitches joined in. One of the moans transformed into a string of words, lament streaking its tone.
“Does a valiant warrior from above seek to rescue the downtrodden? We are wretched creatures who have been condemned to eternal torment, and we have suffered for century after century in this cold, desolate hole. Without trunk or limb, we cannot climb the walls to freedom. Without a savior to hear our appeals for forgiveness, we lie here doomed forever.”
Sapphira took another step back, but Elam leaned closer. “What’s your name?” he asked.
She jumped ahead and latched onto his arm. “Elam, don’t.”
The swirling light collected at the top of the hole, white at first, but it split into multicolored streams that rose above ground level and formed into a vertical, elliptical aura. “We have many names,” the voice continued. “Come and help us.”
With each word, the rainbow colors shimmered across the aura’s surface, making it look like a dimensional viewing screen, much like the one the Ovulum had made except more lovely to behold, with dazzling colors waltzing in its ghostly glow instead of a flat, dull red. It also seemed deeper, richer, more captivating as its allure drew them closer, step by step.
The Ovulum stung Sapphira’s leg again. “Ow!” She jumped back. “The Eye of the Oracle doesn’t want us to listen.”
“Ah!” the voice continued, now without a lamenting tone. “There are two of you, and a young female doubts our words.” The colors in the aura formed into the image of a face, a noble-looking man with a strong chin, flashing eyes, and flowing silver hair. Its lips moved in sync with the voice. “I am a Seraph, an angel of Elohim and king of the watching guardians. My kind fought with the dragons, and our battle brought about the great flood that plunged us here to Tartarus. All I need is a courageous young man who is willing to forsake timid, female counsel and climb down to carry us to freedom.”
As Elam turned toward Sapphira, his eyes darted wildly.
Heat surged into Sapphira’s cheeks, and she backed away another step. “No, Elam. He’s lying. I know he is.”
Elam grimaced. He lifted his hands toward his ears, then jerked them back down. “How can you be so sure? My father believed in Elohim and his angels. Maybe the voice in the abyss is telling the truth.”
Sapphira held up the scroll. It trembled in her hand, matching her quivering voice. “I believe Enoch. He was a prophet who warned the Watchers about their evil ways. They were Seraphim who made war against Elohim and his dragons.”
Elam stared at the scroll. “Does Enoch say that Elohim had dragons?”
“I don’t remember!” She waved it in front of him. “But you won’t find the stories in this scroll! Enoch’s is a different one! It’s still hidden in my dugout.”
The voice in the aura spoke again, the lamenting tone returning. “Alas! It is true young Elam. Enoch warned us about fighting against the dragons. We thought they were allies of the first dragon, Lucifer, the prince of rebels against Elohim. Go and read Enoch’s scroll. You will see that we are angels who did not join Lucifer’s prideful quest to unseat the Holy One. To our shame, however, we followed an ill-advised course that brought about our banishment. Now, in our sorrow and contrition, we beg for escape so we can fly to the mercy seat of Elohim and plead for forgiveness.”
Sapphira balled her hand into a fist. “I don’t believe a word he’s saying, Elam. He’s lying. I can feel it.”
The voice grew louder. “Elam, you have heard the song of truth in your ears. Why trust the ever-fluctuating feelings of this little girl? Read Enoch for yourself. Gather your own strength and wisdom and follow the course set before you by trusting your heart of gold.”
Elam stared at the noble face, then at Sapphira. With each glance, his expression stayed the same stern, cautious, maybe carrying a hint of fear. He stalked away from the abyss, and as he passed Sapphira, he wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “Stay here,” he ordered, nodding at his fingers. He then broke into a jog through the trench, calling behind him. “I’ll be back.”
As Elam’s sandal thumps died away, a chill passed across Sapphira’s skin. He had acted so