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Acacia rose slowly to her feet and hobbled toward Sapphira. “Well, it’s not the wardrobe to Narnia, but it’ll do.”

Sapphira helped Acacia limp along the path until she got her bearings. Running ahead, she located the portal and searched through the ferns until she found an extra long bone. She plunged it into the earth next to the skeleton and hustled back to Acacia.

“Okay,” Sapphira said, catching her breath. “When you pass the fifth tree on the right, turn ninety degrees and you’ll see a grassy mound. The portal is about fifty paces on the other side. I stuck a bone in the ground to make it easy to find. Just open the portal and you’ll fall into Patrick’s house. You can take your time, but I want to hurry back and find Shiloh.”

Acacia embraced Sapphira, then pulled away and pressed her finger into her sister’s chest. “Don’t take any chances. If I don’t see you by tomorrow, I’m coming to find you.”

“Fair enough,” Sapphira replied. “Did you bring your sunglasses?”

“No. I don’t have a hat, either.”

“I guess you’ll have to go anyway.” Sapphira combed her fingers through Acacia’s white locks. “With the styles I’ve seen in Glastonbury lately, no one’s going to say anything about your hair. If you keep your head down, maybe no one will notice your eyes. Just walk slowly.”

Acacia grinned. “Yes, Mother.”

Sapphira turned and headed toward Morgan’s dungeon, frequently glancing at Acacia as she limped down the path.

The doorway back to the dungeon seemed to hang in the air, suspended a foot or so from the ground by an invisible force. Sapphira jumped into it and hurried to the middle door. Standing at the edge, she gazed down into the darkness. “Okay,” she said out loud, grasping the cross. “Don’t think about it. Just jump.” Closing her eyes, she leaped in.

Squatting low, Acacia rubbed her finger across a jewel mounted in the skeleton’s belt. How strange that the man’s flesh would rot, while the leather in the belt showed no signs of decay.

A deep voice pierced the silence. “There are many mysteries in the land of the dead.”

Acacia gasped and rose to her feet, keeping her weight on her good leg. A tall, tuxedo-clad man with a pair of umbrellas tucked under his arm stood next to her. “Welcome to the first circle,” he said.

Acacia shuffled to the rear until her heels bumped against the bones. She teetered backwards, her arms flailing, but the man grabbed her wrist and pulled her upright. She pressed her palm against her chest. “Thank you.”

The man smiled and nodded. “You’re quite welcome.”

She slipped her arm away from his grasp. “Who are you?”

“I am Joseph,” he said, bowing. “I am a guide for lost souls in this place.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joseph.” Acacia extended her hand. “But I can’t stay. I have to get back to the land of the living.”

Joseph took her hand and gave it a gentle shake. “Indeed you do. A terrible tragedy is about to befall a very old friend of yours, and, after it happens, you must bring her to me.”

She jerked her hand back. “Who? Sapphira?”

“Her identity will be revealed in a very short time, but you must bring her the moment you learn of her trouble, or an even greater calamity will result.”

“So you’ll be right here?” Acacia asked, pointing at the ground. “I should come back to this spot?”

“Yes.” Joseph lifted an umbrella. “Dark clouds are rolling in, far darker than you can imagine, but I will be your guide as you and your friend embark on a long journey.”

Acacia glanced at the stormy sky. “Okay, I’ll do my best, but my ankle’s pretty sore, so it might take me awhile.”

“You will have time.” He pointed the umbrella at the skeleton. “But you must go now. The portal’s glow will indicate that it is still open, so you will not need your scroll to return. But make haste. Every portal leading to these circles will soon be closed to all but a select few, and the oracles of fire will be powerless to break through the seal that God will set on the portals. They will remain closed until the new dragon king comes.”

As Elam clopped into the ancient chamber, his footsteps echoed from the distant walls. Ever since Patrick’s adopted cousin moved the round table, no obstructions lay hidden in the darkness, so he marched ahead until he stood directly underneath the hole in the ceiling. A moonbeam shone on his head as he called out into the shadowy chamber. “Robert. Are you in here? It’s me. . um. . Markus.”

“Over here.” The voice was sad and low. “But you can call me Patrick again. Morgan has taken my precious daughter. What more can she do to me?”

Elam stepped out of the moon’s glow. “I heard about Shiloh. Is that why you returned?”

“Yes, Paili and I will take the orphanage back immediately. She needs the children’s company to ease her pain.”

“Aren’t you going to fight to get Shiloh back?”

“Fight?” A derisive laugh punctuated Patrick’s tone. “What can a man do against a sorceress? How can a living human track down a prisoner in the land of the dead? If the great Merlin could not retrieve his wife, how can I expect to ever find Shiloh?”

“Paili told me that you promised to send someone to search for her. Who will that be?”

“I made that promise in haste.” Patrick’s voice trembled. “I have no idea what to do. I am confused, and I cannot think straight. I am lost in a wilderness, and darkness has enclosed me. There is no hope at all. None.”

Elam pulled a flashlight from his belt and turned it on. Aiming the beam in the direction of Patrick’s voice, he searched the wall until he found his old friend sitting on the floor next to a cross mounted on a stand. Elam strode up to him and set the beam just under Patrick’s eyes. “Send Sapphira and me,” Elam said. “We’ll find her.”

Patrick squinted at the light. “How? Won’t she be hidden?”

“I’ve been in Morgan’s prisons. I know how to get to them.”

Patrick picked up a lantern and climbed to his feet. Striking a match, he lit the lantern’s wick. “Where are they?”

“You have to go through portals, but I’m not sure which ones lead where anymore.” Elam turned off his flashlight. “We’ll have to experiment.”

“I will go.” Patrick’s tears glistened, reflecting the lantern’s flaming wick. “Just show me what to do.”

Elam shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care about danger!” Patrick clenched Elam’s shoulder. “This is my daughter we’re talking about. She’s my only child, a child of prophecy.”

Elam laid his hand on Patrick’s and gently loosened the former dragon’s grip. “If she’s a child of prophecy, she’ll be protected. That’s why I’m more concerned about your safety than about hers.” He lowered Patrick’s hand. “Let me do it. I have a lot of experience.”

A loud grunt sounded from behind Elam. He spun around and caught a glimpse of a female stumbling through the portal window’s drapes. As she pulled the curtain aside, an eerie glow brightened her outline. She carried a fiery torch and waved her hand at it. “Lights out!” she commanded, and the fire disappeared.

Elam relit his flashlight and pointed it at her. The beam illuminated her white hair, and her eyes reflected the beam, bouncing it back with a blue tint. She lifted her hand, shielding her face.

“Sapphira!” Elam redirected his flashlight and strode toward her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not ” She winced at the glow from Patrick’s lantern as he walked up to her.

Elam stepped in front of the lantern, casting a shadow across her face. “Why were you in there?”

“First of all, I’m not Sapphira. I’m Acacia. Second” she pulled up her pant leg, revealing a red, oozing wound on her ankle “I’m hurt, so I’d like to sit.”

“By all means.” Patrick helped her down to the floor. “I’ll fetch Paili and our medical bag.”