Eye of the Oracle - By Bryan Davis Page 0,48

bouncing him on his knee.

The maid of fire has come at last

To set the upper world aright.

Ascend dear girl to lands above

And cast the tower in holy light.

As the eye faded away again in the fog, the egg whispered three final words. “Make haste, child!” Mara gazed at the red glass, her skin still tingling from the warm radiance.

Mardon clapped his hands. “Did you hear that? Elohim wants to use this egg in the tower, just as I thought! He will speak from the tower and establish my father’s kingdom!”

Mara held the egg in her fingertips. “I didn’t hear it say anything about his kingdom.”

“What else could it mean? Elohim wants to establish his rule through my father and protect the people from further punishment.”

Mara extended the egg toward him. “Then why did it want me to talk to it instead of you?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Mardon pulled down the bottom hem of his outer shirt, smoothing the material. “Come. We’ll go immediately. The sun will be too bright for you, so you’ll have to wear some kind of hood to shield your eyes.”

She pulled her coif from her pocket and held it up. “I have my veil.”

“Oh, yes. For the magma river. That should work fine.”

She tied it on and began pushing her hair underneath. “When will we return?”

“It depends on what Elohim says to my father. Could be soon; could be later.”

“Will my spawn be okay?”

“Who cares about your spawn?” Mardon twisted his sandal on the floor as if squishing a bug. “He’s expendable. He’s nothing compared to the glory of what we are about to accomplish!”

“But I don’t want him to die!”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the control room exit. “Come now. Let’s not play the fool! Do you have a safe place for the egg?”

Mara nodded. As she carefully placed it in her dress pocket, she pressed her lips together. The thought of her spawn being suspended in his new chamber without being fed tore her apart.

Mardon grabbed a lantern and flung open the door. “We’ll have to find Morgan first and make up some kind of excuse for taking you to the top. I can’t open the lower portal without her.”

“Portal?”

“Too complicated to explain fully. There is no physical path to the surface, so we have to pass through a dimensional window. You see, there are multiple dimensions ” He sighed and pulled her faster. “Never mind. Since you’re friends with Elohim now, just pray that my father likes you. Like all good kings, with all the pressures on him, he can be . . . temperamental.”

“Like Morgan?”

He jerked her wrist hard, lifting her to her tiptoes. “No! Not like Morgan! My father is gentle and kind to his friends, but he has to be harsh with fools and insubordinates, or his enemies will think him spineless.” He raised a tightening fist. “No king will survive for long if he doesn’t crush rebellion.”

The pain from his vise-like grip burned across Mara’s skin. “You’re hurting me!”

“Oh.” He released her and brushed his palm on his shirt. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

Mara rubbed her wrist. She thought of a dozen snide comments to make about the gentility of Mardon’s father, but she didn’t want to risk missing out on visiting the upper lands. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

Mardon patted her on the back. “We’ll go and see Morgan first, then the endless sky.”

Chapter 8

A PRAYER FOR DRAGONS

Makaidos stood on his haunches and gazed at the horizon. Even from so many miles away, he could see Nimrod’s Tower looming over the land, like a fist with a rigid finger pointed heavenward. Black smoke rose all around its base, the fires of belching kilns mixing with the foul gases of bubbling tar pits.

“Brick upon brick” he snorted a spray of steam “evil is growing in the city faster than I thought possible.”

“A monument to the pride of men,” Thigocia grumbled as she lay at her mate’s side. “They are supposed to be scattering and filling the earth, but obviously even Noah has no influence over them any longer.”

Makaidos sighed. “True. Most of the sons of Adam are not worthy of our service to them, but the faithful remnant still give me hope.”

“We must keep praying as Noah taught us.” Thigocia laid her head on the ground. “Your father would want you to keep your eyes on the Maker.”

“The Maker is the god of men,” Makaidos said, “and we are but dust of the earth, coarse pegs

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