“Hush!” Thigocia spread a wing over Hartanna. “My dear, words of warmth will encourage a reluctant male far more quickly than will the slap of a tail.”
Merlin angled the sword’s glow toward Thigocia. “I am not familiar with this covenant veil that Clefspeare mentioned. May I ask its meaning?”
Thigocia extended her neck, bringing her head close to Merlin. Her eyes glimmered with several reddish hues, as though replaying past wonders. “It is the most holy ceremony in our culture. When two dragons come together in wedlock, they must affirm a covenantal vow. Although uncorrupted dragons cannot knowingly utter false words, it is possible that they might not know their own hearts. So, in order to guard against self-deception or ambiguous intent, the dragons must have at least two witnesses present. These witnesses collect in front of the dragons, divided into two groups that stand about two tail lengths apart. The witnesses speak our traditional vows in unison, and this creates a spiritual covenant that hangs like a veil between the groups. The dragons then pass through that veil. If either one of them does not have the vow firmly entrenched in his or her heart, he or she will not be able to pierce the veil. We call it the Great Key, for it unlocks the secrets of a dragon’s heart.”
Merlin stared at her, chills running across his skin. “Remarkable! That is a great key, indeed!”
“I only wish Roxil had not rejected our tradition,” Thigocia said, her fiery eyes fading. “Goliath would not have passed through, and her tragedy would have been avoided.”
“A tragic mistake, indeed,” Merlin said. After pausing in silence for a few seconds, he raised a finger. “Can this veil be created for vows other than a marriage covenant?”
“I have been told that it can, but I have not witnessed it. I assume any sacred confession can be made into a veil.”
“I see.” Merlin raised the sword upright and rested it on his shoulder. “Now that you have settled the matter of succession, I am ready to offer my advice.”
“Speak, then,” Thigocia said. “We are listening.”
Merlin paced in the midst of the circle of dragons. “King Arthur has summoned a council of war. With Goliath on the rampage, I fear that he will heed Devin’s call to kill every dragon who follows that renegade.”
“And what would be wrong with that?” Valcor asked. “With Goliath and his ilk out of the way, the people would no longer fear us.”
“Quiet, Valcor!” Hartanna scolded. “They are our brothers and sisters! Do you care nothing for their souls?”
Valcor swung his tail around and flicked her on the ear. “Are you still my twin sister, or are you already queen?”
Merlin chuckled. “Thigocia, have they always been like this?”
“Even in the womb,” Thigocia replied. “I do not wish twins on any dragon mother.”
“Yet, they illustrate our need for unity against our common foe.” Merlin interlaced his fingers over his chest. “After today, we can only be united in purpose, not in physical fellowship. I don’t trust Devin to keep his war against dragons within the confines of Goliath’s followers, so all of you should go into hiding. Gather gems and build the best regeneracy domes you can. Rest and gain strength until you hear from me again. Your danger sense will alert you if Devin’s war expands and approaches your cave.”
“And if the war comes?” Hartanna asked. “What then?”
“I am formulating an idea that will radically alter everything you have come to know, even those of you who have lived for thousands of years, but it will save your lives and your future. Because the plan is so drastic, I will not deploy it unless Devin’s bloodlust spreads. Even then, I will reveal the strategy only to the new king and queen, and they will prepare you for what will come to pass.”
“Master Merlin,” Thigocia said, her eyes shifting from one dragon to the next, “I want to reassure my descendants, for I sense their anxiety.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them, displaying new tears. Her voice trembled. “Each dragon here . . . has its ultimate origin . . . in my womb . . . and I care for them beyond measure. I have lived for thousands of years, and I have known humans from every generation in the history of the world. Merlin, with the possible exception of Enoch himself, there has been none with more integrity than you. I trust you without reservation, and I am convinced that you are the new oracle. The spirit of Enoch and his son Methuselah rests on you like a mantle from above.”
Merlin brushed his sleeve across his eyes again. “Your words are kind, dear dragoness. I only hope that we will not have to pursue the measures I have in mind. If the plan bears fruit, however, I hope you will continue to trust me, for it will test your faith like nothing you can possibly imagine.”
He nodded toward Thigocia, Hartanna, Valcor, and finally, Clefspeare. “When you see me again, my friends, I fear that your lives will change forever.”
Holding her lighted torch, Sapphira stood next to Acacia at the center of the tower portal. The brood of twelve girls surrounded them, wearing the typical worker tunics, worn and ratty in places, yet cleaner and whiter than usual. “Just in case this portal leads to the top of the museum,” Sapphira said, “we should go one at a time. If we all pop onto the ceiling crossbeams, there’s no way they will hold us, and we couldn’t possibly sneak past Anak if we’re all together.”
Paili pulled on Sapphira’s sleeve. “Anak is gone.”
“Gone? Why?”
Paili closed her eyes and spoke slowly. “Morgan said she found your blood on the floor, so Anak went to hell.” She exhaled loudly and opened her eyes, a hint of a smile breaking through.
Sapphira covered her mouth and gasped between her knuckles. “To hell?”
Elam extended a finger. “That’s one obstacle out of the way.” He raised a handful of straw he had gathered. “Can I go first, you know, to check it out? I don’t want any of you to get hurt if Morgan’s around.”
Acacia took Elam’s free hand in both of hers and held it close to her chest. “Where did you find this gentleman, Mara? Our teacher told us that unselfish men were rare.”
Hot prickles dotted Sapphira’s neck. “My name is Sapphira now.” She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I guess we kind of found each other . . . but, sure, Elam can go first.”
Elam laid most of the straw on the floor and tightened his fist around the small handful he kept. Sapphira touched the torch’s flame to the ends and stepped back. “Now wave it above your head in a circle.”
Elam swirled the small fire around, but the wind he created snuffed the tiny flame. Sapphira yelled, “Ignite!” and the flame shot up, quickly burning down toward Elam’s hand. “Faster!” she shouted.
Elam whirled the flame so fast, it looked like a single line of orange. The line expanded and dropped like a falling curtain until it reached the floor and covered Elam’s body with a flickering veil. Suddenly, he vanished, leaving only a few scattered ashes on the floor.
Acacia took Elam’s place. “I should go next,” she said. “The girls know me, so I should be there when they arrive.”
Sapphira chewed on her lip. “Okay,” she said, shifting on her feet again. “Get some straw.”
Acacia took a handful from the floor and copied Elam’s actions. After she disappeared, Sapphira instructed the others to follow Paili first, then the twelve new arrivals. Each one gave her name, and Sapphira tried to lock them into her mind. The girls seemed to come in matching sets of three, and within each trio, the spawns looked so much alike it would be impossible to tell them apart later. From trio to trio, they ranged from the darkest human skin she had ever seen to complexions as light as her own, and the hair of the dark girls seemed thick and crinkly, while the fair-skinned girls had light, baby-fine hair.
When the last spawn disappeared, one of three olive-skinned girls with carelessly cropped short hair, Sapphira shuffled into place. All the amazing events of the day confused her thoughts and chased the new names from her memory. She gazed down
at the former dragons. Makaidos had found a mallet and was swinging it at the base of one of the remaining idols. Obviously, he wanted to get his job done in a hurry, but, although several idols already lay crumbled, this one seemed to defy his most powerful blows.
Sapphira raised her torch. In one sense, Makaidos had it easy. He knew exactly what to do. If only Elohim would give her straightforward commands, she would be glad to obey them, wouldn’t she?
As she swirled the torch in a wide circle, sadness again swept across her mind. She would soon be back in Morgan’s world, now a fugitive who would have to avoid the dark mistress at all costs. But how? Morgan seemed to know so much more than anyone.
The torch’s light grew into a wall of flames and descended toward her feet. As her legs began to transform, a familiar warmth caressed her thigh. She pressed her free hand against the Ovulum and smiled. Maybe someone knew more than Morgan did. Maybe soon, when she needed him most, he would prove it.
As Merlin strode toward the throne room, a guard pushed the doors open and shouted into the inner chamber. “Merlin, prophet of the Most High and advisor to His Majesty, has arrived.”
Merlin entered, shaking his head as he tromped across the newly installed red carpet. Ever since Devin had been accepted as one of the king’s knights, he insisted on all this silly pomp and heraldry. Merlin had the urge to spit something nasty on the floor. Devin should sweep up all this nonsense and take it with him to
“Hello, Merlin!”
Merlin jerked his head up. Devin smiled, pretentiously friendly, as always, when preening for an audience. The knight, dressed completely in black, stood next to the king, who was seated at his usual place, centered near the front of the platform. Although he rested comfortably on his newly installed throne, his eyes stared straight ahead. They seemed glazed . . . distant . . . as if his mind wandered elsewhere.
The loyal knights Lancelot, Gawain, and the others stood at floor level facing the king, each one dressed in typical finery, though most of them flinched and shifted, as though aching to scratch themselves.
Two women huddled close on a two-person bench next to Arthur’s throne, both draped in black and seated with their hands folded on their knees.
Merlin eyed the taller of the two beautiful, with flawless raven locks that meandered down her back, and sharp, angular facial features framing piercing eyes that promised an equally sharp mind. When her eyes locked with his, a cold chill penetrated his heart.
He bowed to the king, then to the two ladies, before finally acknowledging Devin. “Have you brought two new witnesses for the prosecution?”
“Merlin,” Arthur chided, “your manners are sorely lacking.” He gestured toward the women. “They are sisters of mine Morgan and Elaine, by my mother and her first husband.”
Merlin gave them the slightest of bows. “Clearly they are not quite as dead as you had heard.”
“No. They were ”
“Merlin,” Morgan interrupted, rising in front of her bench, “obviously my dear brother hasn’t had the opportunity to inform you of our rescue from the dragons. Even though my mother, Lady Igraine, gave us up as lost, Sir Devin never abandoned the search. With God as his guide, he found us in Makaidos’s cave when he killed the beast and his demon witch daughter.”
Merlin raised his brow. “It’s odd that Sir Devin neither escorted you home nor informed us of your rescue when Clefspeare and I found him and Palin near the cave.”
A hint of sarcasm spiced Morgan’s tone. “For your information, Sir Devin and Palin acquired horses for their journey, and as soon as they rescued us, they, in their most chivalrous manner, beseeched us to ride to Camelot while they walked home with the king.” She gestured toward Devin. “Regarding the honorable knight’s lack of boasting, such humility is in keeping with his unimpeachable character.”
Merlin glanced at Devin, catching a brief smirk on his face. “Oh, I see. I’m not surprised. I expected Devin to cook up a scheme to gather all the dragons into his murderous net, and this one has a foul recipe, indeed.”
Arthur shot to his feet. “Merlin! Are you accusing my sister of lying?”
Morgan sat down, her nose uplifted. “How rude!”
“Your sister?” Merlin pointed at Morgan. “I am accusing this woman of lying, whoever she might be.”
Sir Devin gripped the hilt of his sword. “Your Majesty! Allow me to silence this reviler forever.”
Merlin withdrew Excalibur and held it high. It blazed with brilliant white light. “Whom do you trust, King Arthur?” He waved his arm at the three dressed in black. “This foul beast of a knight who tickles your ears with songs of praise? These two dark women who suddenly appear on the eve of a council of war against dragons with an amazing tale of rescue from ‘evil’ dragons?” He took a step closer to the king and allowed the sword’s radiance to pass across his face. “Or do you trust a prophet of God, who tells you the unmixed truth, who awakens your conscience and undresses your soul, who has guided your steps from the very first one you took until this present day of sorrows?”
Morgan scowled. “A prophet of God?” she asked, her voice laced with venom. “Did you not disguise Uther as my father so he could deceive and take advantage of my mother?”
Merlin swung toward Morgan, letting the blade’s glow sweep across her body. A slight flinch wrinkled her face, but she quickly recovered. He lowered the sword and rested the flat on Morgan’s shoulder. She recoiled, her brow furrowing, and her cheeks paled.
“Now I finally know who hatched that lie about me.” Merlin turned his head toward the knights and nobles gathered before the king. “Morgan’s father, Gorlois, perished mysteriously, and Arthur’s father, Uther, always denied her mother’s accusation that he arranged Gorlois’s death. Yet, Uther loved Igraine and took her as his wife, begetting our future king, a child born of love, not of deception.” He raised the sword and arced it toward Elaine. The petite woman glared at him, unflinching. “I have heard stories of nymphean deceivers and their seed-collecting ways,” he said. “For how many centuries have you two been planning this wicked scheme?”
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. “Have you gone completely mad? I command you to withdraw!”
Merlin backed away and resheathed the sword, but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on Morgan. “As you wish, Sire.”
Devin thrust his finger toward Merlin. “Your Majesty, I object to this vile accuser’s profane impeachment of your sisters’ honor. In his mad, misguided attempt to save his demonic allies, he has chosen to slander your family! In order to clear his own name, he has indicted your mother as a liar!” He swept his arm toward Morgan and Elaine. “This insane prophet has turned a celebration of your lost sisters’ joyous return into a shameful display of self-exoneration and embarrassing insults against the virtue and reputations of these impeccable ladies. I insist that he be censured and removed from this council!”
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, his face blistering red. “I am persuaded to heed Sir Devin’s counsel. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Merlin kept his voice calm and quiet. “Remember that I speak from times gone by, before you ever breathed the air of the kingdom you now rule and before Sir Devin breathed his first lie. Before you ever saw scale or claw of your first dragon, I rested in the crook of Clefspeare’s leg, in the very shadow of his fiery snout. In the cold night air of his drafty cave, I slept unmolested under the cover of his gentle wing. Take heed to what you are about to do. The way of death is irreversible. Do what you must to the bloodthirsty followers of Goliath, but leave those faithful to the teachings of Makaidos alone.”
The king sat down and took a deep breath, stroking his chin while gazing at the floor. Merlin eyed Morgan closely and caught her giving an almost imperceptible nod to Devin. Devin winked at the entry guard, who quietly opened the door.
Palin burst into the room, red-faced. “Clefspeare,” he said, panting, “has killed Andrew . . . the horse merchant. He burned
him like straw . . . in front of witnesses!”
Arthur jerked his head up. “Clefspeare? Are you certain?”
Palin nodded, still breathless. “Witnesses, Sire. We have witnesses.”
Merlin set his hands on his hips and sighed. “Well done, Sir Devin. I should be ashamed of myself for not predicting that you would sink to such depths.”
Arthur pointed at the exit, his voice shaking. “Merlin, I ask you to leave on your own accord. I honor you too well to have you escorted under armed guard.”
Merlin bowed. “As you wish, Sire.” He walked slowly toward the door, trying to catch Morgan’s eye, but she averted her gaze. Near the exit, he stopped and raised a finger. “There is one request I wish to make, Your Majesty. May I have an audience with Morgan? It is obvious that I have offended her, so I wish to converse with her privately to ensure that our relationship is” he rolled his eyes upward, searching for the right phrase “mutually understood.”
“Granted!” Arthur said. “I’m sure my sisters would both like to repair this unfortunate first impression.”
Morgan finally looked Merlin’s way. Her eyes flashed red. Merlin nodded at her and, without turning back again, walked out the door.
Sapphira jumped from the final ladder rung and gazed at the many pairs of eyes staring at her. The girls seemed winded after the long climb down the museum’s bookshelves, and their somber expressions mirrored those on the twelve statues surrounding the tree. Sapphira caressed the face of one of the darker-skinned girls. It was no wonder they were tired. The portal from the dragons’ dimension had led to Morgan’s scary island, and the eerie howling of a dog had set them all on edge. It didn’t take long, however, for Sapphira to find the portal near the apple tree that led back to the museum.
Elam smacked a heavy scroll against a shelf. “No sign of Morgan anywhere. She’s probably in her castle or in the true upper realms.”
“The true upper realms?” Acacia asked.
Elam jerked his thumb upward. “The dimension where I come from, the land of the living. I guess since I was her prisoner, Morgan didn’t mind telling me what’s going on. You see, she’s really dead . . . well . . . sort of dead, so she has to stay in what she calls the circles of seven, a place my father called Sheol. We’re underneath one of the circles, but we still can’t go from here to there without some kind of portal, because there’s no tunnel all the way to the top.”