An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) (27 page)

She tried to jerk her arm away, but he held it fast, fingers biting into her flesh.

“You’re hurting me!”

“I hope so. Don’t you consider it bad manners to steal from a man who saved your life? It’s a little ungrateful, it seems to me.”

“Let me go!”

He sat up in the darkness. “Rachel, I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. I sincerely need one tonight since I suspect tomorrow will be a very long day. But I can see that in order to achieve it, you and I will have to be close.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a compromise.” He wrapped muscular arms around her and dragged her to the floor with him. She struggled vainly for a few moments, fear and indignation tormenting her. “Release me, you—”

“Listen carefully,” he murmured. In the darkness she felt him lean over and heard a soft clatter as the pistol touched the floor behind him. “Neither one of us can get to it now, without the other being awakened by the movement.”

“Why don’t you just let me sleep with it? I won’t harm you,” she suggested truthfully. “Then we’ll both feel comfortable.”

“Maybe you will, but it won’t do a thing for me. Thieves raise my hackles.”

“My word is good.”

“Yes, I suspect it is, but I can’t be certain, can I? I can’t afford to trust you any further than you can me. This is a much better arrangement, I think. This way—”

“You can still reach it,” she argued vehemently, seeing the logic of his suggestion, fearing him anyway.

“All right,” he sighed. “It’s suicidal, but back up a few feet and I’ll follow you.”

She complied, leading him a good arm’s length from the weapon. Her heart thundered as he pulled her gruffly against him and lay down. Cold seeped from the floor to make her shiver.

“Let’s try to get some sleep now, shall we?”

“I can’t sleep with you pressing the air out of my lungs.”

He shifted to give her more room, but continued holding her hands in a deadly grip. “Now?”

Grudgingly, she murmured, “All right.” But resting her head on his arm, she fought sleep, afraid to succumb. Afraid that her exhaustion might overpower her and she wouldn’t awaken if he reached for the pistol. As well, pressed this close, she could tell just how big a man he was, twice her size, and she knew he didn’t need to use the pistol to kill her. An arm across her throat would be enough.

Yet he made no moves to hurt her and she found herself drifting off to sleep.

Throughout the night, she wavered between horrifying dreams and bitter wakefulness where she felt his heavy arm against her side. Once, she found herself back in the square, the dark form of the
samael
blotting the sky as it circled. Ornias’ pleasant coo blared across the screaming mob: “Witness the power of the Mashiah you have each turned against.” The sickening pounding of her heart came back as she saw the guards lift their rifles and the crowd was suddenly awash in a sea of blood.

She jerked awake, panting into the blackness. Terror and futility swept through her and silently she wept. Tears trickled down her face to soak his sleeve.

She felt Baruch tense, then he paused, hesitantly lifting a hand and letting it hover silently in the darkness for a moment before lowering it to gently stroke her hair.

Sybil scanned the black cave ceiling, pretending to be asleep. Her mother’s cries had awakened her often in the past week. But tonight the soft whimpers twisted oddly in her stomach, making her feel like she had to throw up. She’d been in the middle of a dream. The last picture still lingered in her mind. She’d been a lot older, standing on top of a grass-covered hill looking down on a bloody battle. Men and women screamed in agony, writhing as they died. Beside her, a young man stood, holding her hand so tightly it ached. His black curly hair fluttered in the chill wind. He gazed at her with love and desperation in his eyes. “Sybil,” he’d said over the roar of cannons, “I can’t find Jeremiel and I—I don’t know how to stop this by myself. You know the filthy Magistrates better than I do. Where are they vulnerable?”

“Indra’s Net,” she’d whispered, “we must cast it back into the sky.”

He’d turned glowing eyes on her, and then her mother’s soft cries had interrupted and she’d been drawn back to Horeb. She didn’t know what Indra’s Net was, but sometimes she had funny dreams. Her daddy had told her people’s brains just did that, talked to them at night without making much sense. But she thought it was more. The dreams felt
so real.
And this one scared her more than all the others she’d ever had. The sharp scent of blood still clung in her nose.

She slid a hand down to rub her cramping stomach and stared worriedly at the big man who held her mother.

CHAPTER 15

Echoes of unknown voices moved across Zadok’s path as he trudged into the gray haze at the end of the tunnel. The sweetness of spring grasses met his nostrils, carried on the faint breath of wind caressing his wrinkled face.

“Zadok?” the majestic heavenly voice of Sedriel called. “Stop dallying. Things in your universe are growing dramatically worse by the second.”

“I know. I feel it in my heart,” he responded, clutching the brown fabric over his chest. For the past hour, he’d felt dread building to an incapacitating crescendo.
What’s wrong. Yosef? Did I leave you too unprepared for this madness? My fault… my fault.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the tunnel into a wildflower strewn meadow. A swarm of flies glittered over the enormous rapier-thin arch forming the first gate to the seven heavens of God. Against the arch, Sedriel leaned lazily, arms folded. Brilliant white wings fluttered to keep the flies at bay. His cut crystal features gleamed in the warm sunlight.

“It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for days.”

Panic rose in Zadok’s mind. Time always seemed to waver in the tunnel. Once, he remembered, he’d spent a week talking with Epagael and returned to Kayan before he’d left. “Did it take me that long to get here?”

“You’re getting slothful in your old age.”

“Don’t antagonize me, Sedriel. I’m in a hurry.”

“I don’t blame you. But I doubt there’s anything you can do to stop the whirlwind set in motion by Aktariel. He’s been very clever this time.”

Zadok’s breaking quickened. “What do you mean? What’s that wicked angel done?”

Sedriel smiled and nonchalantly straightened the sleeves of his shimmering golden robe. “Oh, he’s selected the perfect dupes. Disenchanted boobs who can’t see beyond the end of their own noses.”

“Are you going to tell me what he’s done? Or do I have to ask Epagael myself?”

“Don’t be hasty, Zadok.” He bowed his glowing head and laughed softly. “We’ve all the time ever created.”

“Get out of my way!” Zadok trudged forward in a rush, trying to get through the gate before the keeper could stop him.

Sedriel hurriedly thrust out a crystal arm, blocking his path. “Not so fast, patriarch. You’ve a few questions to answer first.”

“What?
I thought we’d passed that years ago? I’ve repeatedly demonstrated I’m well-versed in the secrets of the Gamant zaddiks. Why—”

“Because I just decided I’m no longer certain you’re worthy to view the Veil.”

Zadok’s mouth dropped open. “Blast you! You arrogant beast! You play games while Gamant survival hangs in the balance? Have you lost your alleged mind? I’ve been before you one-hundred and forty times—”

“A hundred and forty-two.”

“What question could you possibly have to ask that I haven’t already answered?”

Sedriel calmly shook his golden hair out of his eyes and smiled down smugly. “Let’s see. Have I ever asked you about Avram’s escape from Ur?”

“Yes! About his escape and the building of the tower of Babel. Both are unique to the ancient book of Pseudo-Philo. What does that have to do with my seeing the Veil this time?”

Sedriel smiled craftily. Behind him, in the pale blue sky, a circle of round-faced cherubim flew, chasing each other childishly. “Oh, a great deal, Zadok. Yes, a very great deal. You know the meaning of that ancient word?”

“Which word?”

“Ur.”

Zadok searched his mind. “No … I—I can’t—”

“You silly old fool. Is your memory that far gone?”

Anger rallied Zadok and the translation flooded to his lips, “Fire! I remember, it’s—”

“Very good. Avram was the Father of the people. And who was the Mother?”

“Rachel. She—”

“Avram escaped from the fiery furnace. Do you think she will?”

“What are you talking about?” Zadok demanded in rage. “You’re playing games with me again! If Aktariel is deceiving the people, I have to get to the Veil to find out what we have to do to save ourselves! Let me pass through the gate!” He waved both arms in wild fury.

Sedriel floated upward, flapping his eiderdown wings so furiously the wind pushed Zadok back several paces. He shielded his face with his hands.

“Be glad your outbursts entertain me, Zadok, else I might throw you back into the void before it’s time.”

Zadok lowered his arms. What sort of cryptological amusement was the angel perpetrating? It angered him that he couldn’t grasp the hidden meaning, and with Sedriel the meaning was always hidden. “Lord,” Zadok blurted in irritation, “if I must answer another question to prove my worthiness to pass the gate, please ask it quickly.”

Sedriel yawned and stared out across the blue and yellow wildflowers sprouting from the meadow. “I don’t really want to. The longer I delay you here the more interesting the permutations of Aktariel’s plan become. And the more thoroughly I’m entertained.”

“Ask!”

“Oh, very well. Hmm … Recite the seven hundred and twenty-two secret names of God.”

“That’ll take an eternity!”

“Then the sooner you get started, the sooner you’ll be on your way.” Sedriel gave him a smile of mock sympathy that enraged Zadok. The angel leaned slightly forward as though hanging breathlessly on his every word.

“All right, listen. You might learn something.” Sucking in a deep breath, Zadok spewed, “Iao, Louel, Sabaoth, Eheieh, Elohim Gibor, Eloah Vadaath, Hadiriron, Meromiron, Beroradin …”

“Rachel!” Jeremiel’s hushed voice intruded urgently through her slumber. “Rachel, wake up. Hurry!”

She scrambled up in a daze, instinctively grabbing Sybil and clamping a hand over her mouth as she stared wideeyed at Jeremiel. He hunched on one knee before the cave entrance.
When had he moved from her side?
The gray rays of false dawn filtered into their rocky shelter to touch his blond hair and dusty black suit. He gripped his pistol in a tight fist. Turning quickly, he hissed, “Go! Crawl through that hole over there!”

She jerked around and spied the small crevice. “But why, what’s—”

“Get out! Do you want the Mashiah to find us?”

Adrenaline flooded her brain. She grabbed her daughter like a sack of potatoes and threw her through the opening, then squirmed in behind her. They both crawled as though Aktariel himself were after them. Jeremiel scrambled in almost immediately. As they fled, her foot occasionally touched his shoulder. Several minutes later, they emerged into the slate-colored light of pre-dawn.

Pitching unsteadily to her feet, she grabbed Sybil’s tiny hand. They stood in a jumbled plain of red sandstone, boulders thrusting up like ancient pillars around them. Jeremiel slithered out of the crevice, wiping blood from his torn arm. His tension was palpable as he scanned the lightening heavens and fingered the trigger of his pistol.

On the cool morning wind, she heard faint shouts and the sounds of a dozen or more men struggling up the distant rocky slope she and Sybil had climbed the night before. Her spine went rigid.

“They must have found our tracks,” she explained in dreadful penance. “I didn’t think to cover—”

“Of course not. Forget it,” Jeremiel urged. “Move!” The sandstone shone like old blood in the dim light. Wind and water swept the rock so thoroughly, not a speck of sand or gravel grated beneath their pounding feet.

An excited shout echoed from above and Jeremiel turned sharply. Rachel felt ill, knowing they’d be captured. “They’re coming,” she whispered huskily. “Ornias will take us—”

“No, he won’t!” Jeremiel trotted forward with the silent grace of a dancer and slipped an arm around her waist, dragging her hurriedly into a steep-sided ravine.

Cool morning shadows clung to the rocks. A faint breeze stirred the dust, sending sand puffing up before them. And the shouts of the men came again. This time much closer than before. Wretched terror choked Rachel.

Sybil charged ahead, tiny legs pumping. Rachel had no idea how long they dashed down the ravine, but by the time they reached bottom, she was staggering, gasping for breath.

In a sudden violent movement, Jeremiel pushed her aside and leapt for a huge shell-shaped rock, frantically running his hand along beneath the shelf. “It’s here. I couldn’t find it last night, but now I know this is it.”

“What?”

Rather than answering, he hit the ground on his stomach and rolled to his back, sliding half-beneath the precariously tilted boulder.