“What?” Sapphira glanced back and forth between Morgan and the aura. “What are you talking about?”
“But,” Samyaza continued, “by your own code, all traitors have to be cast away. If Mara would betray Elam, she would certainly betray you.”
Morgan stroked her chin. “Of course, you’re right, my love. I had forgotten about that.”
Sapphira massaged the Ovulum in her pocket. “But I didn’t betray Elam! You kidnapped him from his people.” The flames on her scroll vanished, leaving only a rising string of smoke.
“I did have him kidnapped,” Morgan continued, “but I would not have known about his trespassing into my room if not for the blossom you left for me to find.” She walked slowly toward Sapphira, her hands swaying hypnotically. “It is time for you to go now, Mara. Your life cycle is over. You betrayed a friend, so no one can trust you.”
Dizziness swirled Sapphira’s vision, and sleepiness weighed down her eyelids. “But I didn’t. . leave the blossom for you. . to find. I hid it. .”
“Under a bed? Come now, Mara. I found the blossom but never Enoch’s scroll. You obviously wanted me to find one and not the other.” Morgan grabbed Sapphira’s shoulders. Her icy fingers radiated sheer cold through her tunics, jolting the fog from her brain. Morgan turned toward the trench and smiled. “Did you hear our conversation, Elam?”
Elam stepped out of the shadows, but the pit’s dim light illuminated only his face. His lips were taut, almost invisible. “I heard it.”
Morgan shuffled Sapphira to the edge of the abyss. “Did you bring it?”
He glanced behind his back. “I brought it.”
“Now you finally know that the songs are true. Sapphira has lied to you and used you.” Morgan kept one hand on Sapphira and extended the other. “By giving me Enoch’s scroll, you will be signifying your rejection of this traitor and condemning her to the abyss. Agreed?”
Sapphira could barely breathe. Nothing she could say now could possibly outwit Morgan. She was too crafty, too devilish. Would Elam be able to see through her deception? The Ovulum kept getting warmer. Sapphira slid it out and tilted her head upward. Elohim! Give him wisdom!
“I don’t trust you,” Elam said. “I don’t want you to get close enough to grab me.”
“Very well. You may leave it there, and I will pick it up.” Morgan started toward him, pulling Sapphira with her.
Elam raised his hand. “No. Don’t come anywhere near me. I’ll throw it to you.”
Morgan halted, still near the edge of the abyss. “If you insist.” She held out her hand again. “You may throw it.”
An urgent call pierced Sapphira’s mind. “Run, child! Run!” She wrenched free from Morgan’s grip and bolted for Elam. Elam reared back and threw something at Morgan, something long and flexible that whipped around and around. As it flew, a pair of fangs glistened at one end. A thick, scaly body slapped Morgan across the face, twisted around her shoulders, and slung her down. She lay motionless inside a huge coil that pinned her to the ground, trapped by her own dead serpent.
The Ovulum pulsed in Sapphira’s hand, sending hundreds of red rings toward Morgan and the abyss. The halos built up into a crimson screen, a translucent divider that spread from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, separating Sapphira and Elam from the sorceress.
Holding the Ovulum away from her body, she let it pour layer after layer of red across the new wall. She draped her other hand over Elam’s shoulders and pulled him close. Sobs punctuated her cry. “I’m so glad you believed in me!”
“She’s a really good liar,” Elam said, “but I never really thought about getting the scroll. I just saw that pit as a good place to toss the snake and shut that demon up.”
On the other side of the thickening screen, Morgan threw the snake’s body to the side, rose to her feet, and kicked it savagely into the abyss.
Elam grinned. “I should have attached a message to it. ‘To the Watcher. With love, from Elam.’”
Sapphira laughed. “Too bad he can’t send you a thank-you note. I think we won’t be seeing him again for a very long time.”
As the Ovulum continued to pulse halos, the voice entered her mind again. “Perhaps you will not see him, child, but first you must send the abyss to the lowest of all realms. Prepare to generate the greatest portal you have ever made.”
Sapphira laid the Ovulum on the ground, took a deep breath, and lifted the scroll high. “Give me light!” she shouted. Flames instantly leaped from the top, jumping and dancing as they consumed the scroll. She waved it in a circle, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the flames expanded into a wide curtain that enveloped Elam and herself as well as the entire chamber. Within seconds, all they could see was the inside of a fiery tornado. The vortex spun so fast, the orange tongues blended together into solid streams of blazing light. The Ovulum’s red pulses mixed in, deepening the orange and tingeing the entire cyclone with bright crimson highlights.
The voice from the Ovulum shouted out loud. “Now, Sapphira Adi! Shine forth the light of love! Show Elam the joy that only Elohim can give!”
A rising tide of ecstasy rose in Sapphira’s heart, filling her mind with song, the same song the Eye sang when Elohim led her in holy dance. The words began to pour from her lips unbidden, more beautifully than she ever imagined she could sing.
In days gone by the water fell
And draped the world in silent death;
A rain of judgment drowned the earth
Demanding life and snatching breath.
But now the raindrops fall afresh
On hearts rejecting hate and sin,
In blessings crowned with love and grace
To heal the wounds of soul and skin.
The flames exploded in brightness. Intense heat nearly blistered her skin, but she didn’t care. She just closed her eyes and sang on.
The one who loves is Elohim,
Rejoicing now in song and dance;
I shout for you to come and play,
Enjoying love, the great romance.
So dance, my child, and feel my love
In rain, the healing drops of life.
Forsake your cares, your toils and pain,
The wounds and scars of slavish strife.
Droplets of water sprinkled her cheeks, and the sizzle of cooling stone breezed past her ears. She tossed the remnant of the scroll to the ground and embraced Elam, her eyes still closed, her body still swaying with her song.
O cast aside the chains of grief
And reach for heaven’s grace above;
So son of Shem come dance with me!
Enfold yourself in arms of love.
This time, Elam returned the embrace, and as cool water poured from above, the two spun slowly with the whirling breeze. Elam’s head nodded in rhythmic spasms as he wept on Sapphira’s shoulder.
She patted his back and drank in his wordless song of joy. Elam had found Elohim. Though Elam had not seen his beloved father in centuries, he had witnessed the truth of his father’s stories about God as he endured the injustice and torture of Morgan’s prisons. Now he stood in the presence of the holy, finally feeling the loving caress of Elohim. The same God who scrubbed the world’s filth with a cleansing flood was now bathing him in a shower of mercy.
As the melody in her heart played on, new words drifted into her mind, sung in the rich voice of the Eye. She listened, wondering if Elam could hear them as well.
A day will come when you will speak
My name anew in sacrifice,
The day you set your heart afire
And give me all, the only price.
The voice faded away, and the fire settled to the earth and vanished. In its place stood a steep grassy slope rising to a high promontory overlooking a valley. Rain poured down from a dismal sky, the sun obscured by a curtain of dark, thick clouds.