Eye of the Oracle

Chapter 3

The largest of the arriving Watchers, a square-jawed giant with red wings, landed next to Samyaza. “Make a barrier!” he bellowed. As the demons formed a ring around their fallen leader, Thigocia dropped the sword to the ark’s deck, completed her turn, and flew in tight ellipses, widening her orbit as she maneuvered nearer Makaidos, who lay motionless outside the demonic circle.

The other dragons attacked, blasting streaks of white-hot flames. The Watchers parried by shooting bolts of darkness from their eyes, keeping the dragons at bay. A huge, axe-wielding human stepped into the sycamore glade. Another followed him, a scar-faced man with battle leather strapped across his torso and a club in each hand. A third, the tallest yet, his head reaching the shoulder of the biggest Watcher, tromped into view carrying a long spear. He knelt at Morgan’s side and helped her to her feet.

Thigocia shuddered. Nephilim! She had to grab Makaidos before it was too late! Shooting a wall of fire for cover, she zoomed past the Watchers and Nephilim, latched onto Makaidos with her claws, and dragged him to the edge of the trench. She jerked back around, beating the wet air with her wings to keep her balance. The scene behind her was a blur of fire, steam, and black streaks dragons, Watchers, and giants in deadly conflict. One of the streaks shot past her head, barely missing her ear. Letting out a low groan, she adjusted her grip on Makaidos’s body. She had to get him to the ark, but how could she possibly carry him over the gap?

A dragon burst out of the melee Arramos, glowing hot with splashes of black goo speckling his red scales. He landed next to Thigocia, panting. “You take his neck. . and I will take. . his hind quarters.” Arramos gripped his son’s tail and a back leg with his claws. “Now!” he ordered.

Thigocia shoved her claws under Makaidos’s shoulder and draped his neck over her own. Gripping as much of his body as she could, she flapped her wings with all her might. They slowly lifted off the ground, Arramos taking the unprotected rear position as they inched toward the ark.

A black streak splattered against Arramos’s side. Another slapped him in the face. The two dragons pushed forward, beating the air and scattering thousands of water droplets. As they crested the side of the ark, Japheth, clutching his ribs with one arm, guided them to a clear spot on the deck. Shem burst from Adam’s Door, and the two humans, dodging flapping wings and swinging tails, helped the dragons gently lower the wounded body to the planks.

When all three dragons finally rested on the deck, Arramos bent over Makaidos, aiming his eyebeams at his son’s glazed pupils. “He is alive. . but barely. Thigocia, your mother was a healer. It is time to learn whether or not you inherited her gift.”

“Should I just do what she always did?” she asked.

“Yes. Cover Makaidos with your wings and body. Quickly, now! There is no time to lose.”

Thigocia crawled over Makaidos’s body and lay on top of him, stretching her wings to cover as many of his scales as she could. Arramos breathed a low-power stream of fire at Thigocia’s tail, then at her wings, flanks, and back, until her scales glowed with a tawny-orange hue. Warmth radiated around her body, spreading through her wings and into Makaidos.

As the process continued, Thigocia kept an eye on the battle. The dark streaks now outnumbered the streams of fire, and blackened dragon bodies littered the battlefield, lying strewn on the ground as if draped by sooty quilts. Several Watchers lay among them, some writhing, some motionless. Two of the giants smoldered in a heap, but the largest Naphil stood erect, shaking his spear in the air.

Morgan walked out of the fog. As Watchers and Nephilim gathered around her, she marched toward the ark, lifting her purple-stained palm into the air. A shimmering field of sparks formed around the evil group. When the sparks clustered, a lightning bolt shot toward the ark. The bolt missed wide to the right, but the sparks reassembled, as if recharging after the first volley.

Shem pulled a sling and a stone from his pocket, spun the sling over his head, and hurled the stone at Morgan, but it bounced off her shield and tumbled to the ground. As he set a larger stone in the sling, Japheth grabbed his arm and held up the egg-like orb. “If we could figure out how to use this, maybe we’d stand a chance.”

Arramos snuffed his flames. “The Ovulum!” He nodded at Thigocia. “Stay on him. When your glow fades, you may get up.” He lumbered toward the humans. “Speak to the Eye of the Oracle,” he said. “He will give you guidance.”

Japheth laid the Ovulum in his palm. “You mean talk to the egg?”

“Exactly. I do not know who or what resides there, but I have seen the Oracle speak to it with reverence.”

Japheth glanced at Shem, who just shrugged his shoulders. Another bolt of lightning streaked across the deck and burned a hole in the parapet on the far side.

Arramos shot a ball of fire at Morgan’s company. The flames dented the shield and rolled over the dome before fizzling out on the ground behind them. The volley made them halt, at least for the moment. “Hurry!” Arramos ordered. “If the Watchers attack, we will never hold them off! They probably do not know we are the only dragons on board, or they would have attacked already.”

Japheth raised the Ovulum near his lips. “If you’re the Eye of the Oracle, I assume you know what’s going on out here. Please give us guidance. How can we save the ark?”

Red fog swirled within the orb and congealed into a scarlet eye. It stared at Japheth as if piercing his soul with its gaze. Shem, Japheth, and Arramos stared back at the eye, seemingly mesmerized as a translucent aura slowly grew around it, bathing Japheth’s hands in crimson.

Another bolt zipped into the ark, this time striking Thigocia’s tail, singeing the tiny scales on its spiny end. “Owww!” She shot up to her feet and dipped her tail in a rainwater pool. The orange glow pulsing from her scales faded. Had the healing treatment been enough to

Makaidos raised his head, blinking his eyes at the falling rain. “What happened?”

Thigocia pulled her tail from the puddle and flicked a stream of water at him. “It is about time you woke up,” she said, attempting a smile. “We are trying to figure out how to use the Ovulum to defend the ark. The sorceress is attacking, and she has new powers.” Thigocia extended her neck to get a closer look at the eye. It seemed to be speaking, though the words penetrated her mind rather than her ears. The voice was sad, almost mournful, as it chanted a lament.

A stream, a flow, a cleansing flood,

The tide that sweeps away our sin,

Is not of water, nor of earth.

The flood must purge our souls within.

The aura surrounding the orb swelled, covering the two brothers in brilliant scarlet robes of light that made their bodies look like pulsing beacons.

Today begins a worldly wash,

For man has lost the Eden way,

Regarding demons as his gods,

And dark of night he calls the day.

An ark, a savior from the wrath,

Foretells of yet another flood.

A king will build an ark of faith

And purge our hearts with holy blood.

The red glow engulfed the entire ark, creating a massive shield, and as it expanded, tentacles of scarlet light spread over its surface, slapping at anything within reach. Morgan and company drew back, their eyes widening.

Now take the orb and with a prayer

Release it to the weeping skies.

The gates of hell will seize their souls

And earth will bleed while heaven cries.

And then arise, defend the ark,

Protect it from the lightning stroke.

The patriarch shall wave the sword

And summon heaven’s shielding cloak.

The prophet’s eye is never lost.

It travels now to worthy maids,

Secure within the hands of love,

Returning where a curse is laid.

While Japheth and Shem continued to gape at the eye, the orb’s glow and spindly arms slowly contracted. Its aura sank below the roof of the top deck quarters. Morgan pointed at the ark and spread her arms once again as new lightning bolts formed on the surface of her dome shield.

Thigocia yelled, “Throw the Ovulum! Didn’t you hear the song?”

Japheth’s gaze shifted between her and the orb. “Song? What song?”

“It came from the eye! It said ‘release it to the weeping skies.’ Throw it now! As high as you can!”

Arramos clutched Japheth’s wrist. “Thigocia, the eye is a living orb, not a youngling’s plaything. We cannot afford to lose it.”

“Trust me,” Thigocia roared. “I heard what it said!”

Japheth and Shem stood motionless, their gazes riveted again on the Ovulum. The orb swelled, as if absorbing its own glow. As the shielding aura sank, nearly exposing their heads, the Ovulum expanded to the size of a grapefruit, red and throbbing.

The top of the ark was now exposed. A new lightning bolt zapped the roof, igniting a tiny fire.

With a quick swipe of her claws, Thigocia snatched the Ovulum from Japheth and leaped into the sky, her wings fighting heavy winds. Another lightning bolt streaked by, barely missing her head. Fighting a downburst of rain, she placed the Ovulum on the end of her tail and slung the orb into the clouds. The red glow followed, completely unveiling the ark, and disappeared from sight in the turbulent blackness above.

Thigocia hurried back to the deck. Morgan and the Watchers now stood at the precipice of the trench, a mere thirty feet from the bow of the ark. Morgan screamed a battle cry. The demons and Nephilim replied with guttural roars.

Sparks flew from Makaidos’s mouth, sprinkling Thigocia’s face. “What have you done?!”

“I obeyed the eye! It is not my fault you were deaf to its song.”

Arramos thumped his tail on the deck. “Quiet! Do not behave like younglings!” He lowered his voice. “Thigocia, did the Ovulum say anything else?”

“Yes.” She nudged the sword with her foreleg. “The patriarch is supposed to protect the ark with the sword. Something about waving it and making a cloak.”

“We must ” Arramos cast a glance at Morgan. She seemed to be directing the Watchers as they flew to surround the ark. The clouds above boiled bright red, sinking lower in the sky with every passing second. Arramos stretched his neck upward and let out an ear-splitting roar. With another thump of his tail, he growled a low whisper. “Trumpet! Now! Both of you!”

Makaidos and Thigocia raised their heads and poured out a stream of blaring trumpet sounds, shaking the deck, the ark, and the earth.

“Keep it up while I give my final commands. We must make them think this ark is filled with dragons.” He nodded toward Adam’s Door. “Shem and Japheth, send your father out here immediately, then make sure your families are safe. Makaidos, the Watchers will know we are few in number as soon as I attack them alone.”

Makaidos lowered his head. “Alone? But ”

“Trumpet!”

Makaidos trumpeted louder than ever. Shem and Japheth hustled into the quarters, Japheth pausing at the doorway, looking back at the dragons before ducking inside.

“You and Thigocia are the chosen pair,” Arramos continued. “When the flood recedes, you will repopulate the earth with our kind and once again serve the race of Adam.”

“Thigocia and me? Repopulate? But ”

“Makaidos!”

Makaidos trumpeted again, but his volume faded. The dark red clouds sank lower. Peals of thunder shook the ark, nearly knocking the dragons down.

“I know you want to fight,” Arramos continued, “but the battle against the corrupters is over. It is now up to the Maker to finish the war.” He nodded toward Adam’s Door. “Go now.”

The two young dragons silenced their trumpets and lowered their heads. New rolls of thunder replaced their blistering calls. Arramos leaped up to the parapet and looked back with a large tear in each eye. “Good-bye, my son. I am proud of you. You will make a fine king.” He flapped his wings and lifted off. With a sudden turn and sweep of his tail, he dove toward the circle of demons.

Makaidos lunged toward the parapet, slipping on the rain-slicked planks. Thigocia joined him and craned her neck over the side. Blasting waves of fire, Arramos shattered Morgan’s shield and slammed into the wall of Watchers and Nephilim. At least three Watchers collapsed, and the spear-wielding Naphil fell into the trench. Arramos tumbled to the ground, rolling into another Watcher and crushing his body. The other Watchers leaped toward Arramos, waves of darkness streaming from their eyes.

Makaidos jumped to the top of the parapet and unfurled his wings. “I have to help him!”

Thigocia snatched his tail in her claws and pulled him back to the deck. “Are you going to disobey your father’s last command?”

“I am not going to let him die without a fight!”

“Are you so selfish that you are willing to end the dragon race because of your lust for battle?”

“It is not lust for battle! I just want to save my father!”

“Then save him by obeying him! His legacy will die forever if you don’t.”

Makaidos turned back toward the battlefield, stretching his neck high. Thigocia followed his line of sight. With blankets of darkness smothering Arramos, all she could see were his ruby eyes, his gaze focused on the ark, pleading. . begging. She heard a voice in her mind, faint and trembling. “Go. . now. . let me know. . you are safe. . before I die.”

She spoke slowly, dreamily, yet with firm resolve. “Makaidos. We must go. . now!”

“I cannot leave my father!” He stretched out his wings and lifted into the air.

“We must go!” Thigocia bit his tail and yanked him from the sky.

Makaidos twisted and jerked his tail away. “Don’t make me fight you!”

Red light flashed from one end of the ark to the other, casting a blood-like shroud over the deck, its glow seeming to carry a loud, bass hum that shook every grain in every plank. The dragons looked up, trembling. A ball of scarlet fire hovered just below the clouds, pulsing, throbbing like a luminescent heart. It seemed that an aging sun was sinking to the earth, blushing red and vibrating in the throes of death.

Noah ran onto the deck. “I was on the lower level. What ” He looked up at the red orb. All eyes dragon, demon, and human locked on the blazing sphere, every creature frozen in place and gaping in wonder. Fingers of red flame sprouted from the ball’s surface. The long tendrils snaked toward the ground, and as each finger pierced the earth, a geyser of muddy water sprang from the entry point. Fountain after fountain gushed into the sky. A peal of thunder, the loudest yet, blasted across the heavens. Torrents of rain followed, sheets of cold, stinging drops that forced Thigocia to finally blink.

“Master Noah,” she yelled, sliding the sword to him with her tail. “The Ovulum said to take the sword and wave it.”

Noah pulled the blade from its sheath and lifted it over his head. The sword flashed with light, sending a bright beam into the sky, and as he waved it back and forth, the light created a wall. He swirled the sword as if stirring a spoon, transforming the wall of light into a dome that completely covered the ark. Inside the dome, an eerie tapping sounded all around. The rain beat against the shield and streamed across the boundary, painting thousands of bright rivulets on their canopy of light.

Morgan screamed, “Attack! Now!” The Watchers blasted streams of darkness at the ark, but the black jets merely splattered against Noah’s dome of light.

Rushing water toppled the demons and every creature on the land, washing them toward the trench in a rampaging river. The torrent ended in a whirlpool that flushed the bodies downward into a dark, spinning hole. Morgan, flailing helplessly in neck-high water, tried to grab branches as she swept past the sycamores. She snatched a skinny limb and hung on, but her fingers began slipping as the raging water furiously beat against her body. Samyaza, having regained consciousness, swam against the current, but in his weakened state, he was no match for the ferocious river.

Thigocia draped Makaidos with her wing and shouted over the din. “Master Noah! I beg you to go inside! We no longer need the shield!”

Noah lowered the sword, and the blade’s light blinked off. With rain once again beating on his head, he hurried to Adam’s Door and disappeared.

Makaidos gaped at the rising water and bowed his head. As the flood hoisted the ark from the ground, it lurched to one side. The two dragons staggered toward the door, careful to avoid the sheer drop over a railing to their left. They collapsed their wings and ducked low. Thigocia entered first and found Japheth holding a lantern and standing with his feet spread apart, bracing against the rocking boat. He waved the lantern toward an interior door. “Quick! Inside! This is just the window vestibule.”

Thigocia scooted toward the second door and glanced back to see Makaidos squeezing through as she made room. Rain poured in through another hole cut into the exterior wall, above and well to the right of the door, apparently an observation window with shutters on both sides.

“Hurry!” Japheth called, clutching his ribs with one arm. He picked up a bucket of thick black liquid. “I still have to seal the openings.”

Thigocia crawled through the interior door and into a cavernous chamber. A solitary light shone from the opposite side, barely illuminating the wide-planked floors and dozens of dark lanterns swinging from thick ceiling beams. She could see little else, only a human shadow drawing closer. It staggered with the rocking boat for a moment, then walked more steadily as the ride smoothed out.

Makaidos followed Thigocia, pushing far enough into the room to raise his head and unfurl his wings slightly.

A voice accompanied the shadow. “That was quite an adventure!” The dark hand laid a flaming piece of wood on a lantern wick. A brightening fire cast a glow across Noah’s face as he mopped his brow with a cloth. A woman stood at his side, wrinkled and white-haired and wearing a tired but satisfied smile.

Thigocia bowed low. “Mistress Emzara!” Makaidos bowed with her, though not as low.

Noah gestured for them to rise. “Welcome, my friends.” He stroked Thigocia’s neck three times. “Peace to you, dragoness. Your willingness to listen to the Eye of the Oracle saved the ark.”

Thigocia blinked at the gentle old man. He had obviously learned the proper way for a human to greet a warrior dragon. She thumped her tail twice in response. “And peace to you as well, Sire.”

“I will make sure their food is ready,” Emzara said, turning to leave.

Noah bowed to Makaidos. “Hail, new king of the dragons.” As he lifted his head, large tears streamed from both eyes. “It is a pity that your coronation comes on a day of sorrows. Today you have lost a father, and I have lost a grandfather. While death and destruction surround us, shall we weep together or rejoice that God has rescued us from this calamity?”

Makaidos glanced at Thigocia. “With all due respect, Master Noah, she dragged me in here. I would have died fighting alongside my father.”

Noah waved his hand. “Trust me. I understand. God sometimes has unusual ways to bring about his purposes.” He lifted the lantern toward the rafters. “Would any human conceive of such a vessel? If I were to destroy all flesh, I doubt that I would plan to cover the earth with water and then load a stampede of goats, monkeys, and squirrels onto a monstrosity like this!” He chuckled softly. “Preposterous! Three thousand years from now, will anyone even believe it happened?”

The boat rocked again, slinging Noah to the floor. As the ark leveled, Makaidos extended a clawed hand and lifted the old man gently to his feet. “Perhaps they will believe it,” Makaidos said, “if anyone lives to create the next generation.”

Thigocia thwacked Makaidos on the leg with her tail. “Behave yourself!”

“Father!” Shem rushed to Noah’s side. “Are you all right?”

“I am.” Noah brushed a coating of sawdust from his cloak. “What about Eve’s Door?”

“I couldn’t believe it!” Shem ran his fingers through his hair, bouncing on his toes like a child. “It was already closed! All we had to do was seal it!”

Noah lifted a wrinkled hand. “Praise to Elohim! He watches over even the most careless of his flock!”

Japheth bustled into the chamber, still carrying the bucket and clutching his side. “Adam’s Door and the window are sealed.” He closed the door behind him. “Shall I seal this one as well?”

Noah shook his head. “No need. It will hold. When the rain stops, we will want access to the window.”

“Before I sealed the shutters” Japheth slowly opened the interior door again “this bird barged in.” A large, wet raven flew through the doorway and darted into the rafters. It floundered from beam to beam and scattered droplets until it managed to perch on a wide truss near the ceiling.

“Very strange,” Japheth said. “It seems to have forgotten how to fly.”

“Leave it be,” Noah said. “It has been battered by the storm, and it’s exhausted. We can leave birdseed out later.”

Japheth set the bucket down and patted Thigocia’s front leg. “Do you want to see your quarters? They’re not much more than stalls, but we humans have the same accommodations, so we’re not playing favorites with anyone.”

Thigocia jerked her leg back and smirked. This human could learn a lesson or two in manners from his father. “Thank you,” she said. “I would like that.”

As Japheth led Thigocia into the dark chamber, Makaidos followed. “I would also like to see my quarters. I am exhausted from the battles.”

Japheth glanced back. “I wasn’t sure if you would need a separate room for an egg nest, but that can be constructed later.”

“An egg nest?” Makaidos repeated. “Dragons bear their young alive.”

Japheth scratched his head. “I guess I should have known that.”

“Few humans do. We have not produced many offspring since the day of our creation.”

“Anyway,” Japheth continued, “the stall is plenty big for you and Thigocia, even if you have a. . a baby. I don’t know what you call a little dragon.”

Makaidos halted. “We have the same stall?”

Japheth stopped and turned around. “Yes, of course. We thought ”

“My son,” Noah interrupted, walking behind the group. He caught up and draped an arm over Japheth’s shoulder. “Dragons have morals and rituals that are similar to those of humans, and as God’s prophet, I have the authority to join Makaidos and Thigocia in wedlock. We will create their covenant veil immediately.”

Japheth tilted his head at his father. “Covenant veil?”

Noah clasped his hands together. “When two dragons join, they must pass through a spiritual veil that tests their hearts’ willingness to commit to their union forever. If either dragon has a shadow of deception or doubt, whether conscious or not, he or she is unable to pass, and the covenant is not complete.”

“How do you make the veil?” Japheth asked.

Noah patted his son on the back. “You will find out soon enough.”

Makaidos pawed the floor. “I feared this was coming.”

“Feared?” Heat flooded Thigocia’s eyes. “And what is wrong with marrying me?”

“We have known each other since we were younglings,” Makaidos said. “We have played together, fought together, even bled together. We are best friends, not lovers.”

Thigocia thumped her tail and scowled. “As it should be! I would prefer to marry my best friend over some sniveling suitor who fancies flying over romantic vistas. Give me a male like you who would rather fight in a bloody battle any day!”

Makaidos snorted. “Marrying you would be like marrying my little sister!”

Thigocia lifted her head and stared at Makaidos eye to eye, her voice pitching up. “My father married his sister, and I am no crybaby youngling. When we blasted that Watcher in the Valley of ”

Noah laughed so hard he could barely speak. “That’s enough!” He wiped a tear from his eye and draped an arm over each dragon’s neck, grinning like a proud father. “There is no other reasonable option. The existence of the dragon race depends on it. You are to be wed immediately.”

A flicker of light caught Makaidos’s eye. Noah’s son Ham walked by the dragons’ stall with the late-arriving raven perched on his shoulder. A twinge of pain pinched Makaidos’s gut. He winced at the danger signal. Was it real this time?

Months on the ark had dulled his senses. He had no gems for building a bed to produce the conic shroud of light dragons needed to regain their strength. Such a regeneracy dome was crucial for a dragon’s health, as his father had taught the day they first built a dome together. “Some gems give us strength,” Arramos had said, extending a single red stone in his open claws, “but this one gives us identity. It represents your vision, your passion, and your sacrifice, and one day, it will be a door to freedom. Take this rubellite and wear it always. It is the key to our everlasting union as father and son.”

Makaidos lowered his head and flashed his eyebeams at his underbelly. Pressed deep into a gap between his scales, a small red gem reflected his beams, his rubellite, a protective shield placed at his most vulnerable point. Even after all his battles, even after all those long days and nights on the ark, the rubellite stayed with him, reminding him of his father’s gift to all his progeny. Thigocia, of course, had one, too. All the dragons of old would find a rubellite for each son or daughter, a dragon symbol for all generations.

He raised his head again, and a dull pain throbbed from ear to ear. With only the glow of a dozen lanterns swinging from the rafters, darkness had sapped him dry. The rain had eased several months ago, so he had hoped for a quick end to the tedious sea voyage, but it was not to be. With the ark’s lower hull wedged in the peaks of an underwater mountain range, they had to withstand the constant rocking of waves splashing against the sides.

Makaidos kept his eye on Ham as he disappeared down the ladder toward the second level. It hadn’t taken long to learn that Ham’s brothers considered him a scoundrel. He performed his chores adequately, but there was something not quite right about him. Even as he obeyed Noah, his eyes seemed to defy every word.

Makaidos rose slowly to his feet, hoping not to awaken Thigocia. She lay near the back of the stall on a deep bed of clean straw, her head tucked under a wing. Since he kept his own pile of straw near the front, he was able to slip through the open door without a sound.

From the corridor, he glanced back at her. Thigocia’s wing had moved, uncovering her noble brow and graceful snout. Makaidos couldn’t help but stare. He had never really noticed before how beautiful she was. She had been a playmate as a youngling and a fellow warrior in recent years, but he had never noticed anything beyond her ability to spin a one-eighty at top speed or to scorch a Naphil with one breath. Now she looked. . well. . lovely. His gaze wandered to the space between her bed of straw and his own. He sighed quietly and followed Ham’s path down the corridor.

The ark’s frame croaked a dirge of grunts, creaks, and moans from the weakened planks, masking Makaidos’s heavy steps. He passed the sleeping human families, Noah and his wife hand in hand on a pile of straw, Japheth and his wife in a smaller stall next to his father’s, then Ham’s wife sleeping next to a swaddled newborn baby Canaan, they had named him. The last stall, Shem’s, was empty. It was his turn to patrol the animal decks, and his wife always went with him. But why would Ham be up so early in the morning when he didn’t have to be?

When Makaidos reached the ladder that led to the lower level, he peered down, stretching his neck as far as he could. Below, a flickering lantern revealed Ham sitting on the floor next to a birdcage. Shem and his wife were nowhere in sight, probably on the lowest deck, the level for large mammals and non-sentient reptiles.

As the raven on Ham’s shoulder pecked at a heap of seeds in his palm, he spoke to it in a low tone. “So what is your plan?”

The raven croaked into Ham’s ear, but too quietly for Makaidos to distinguish any words.

“The air vents are too small for you to escape,” Ham said. “Even after the flood subsides, Father probably won’t let any birds go until he is sure they are healthy and mating.”

Again, the raven answered in an indecipherable voice.

“Yes,” Ham replied. “My father has already spoken about that. We will need a land scout soon.”

The bird spoke again, this time loud enough for Makaidos to hear its squawking words. “Send me.”

Ham shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? Since we have two other ravens, he’ll think you’re expendable.”

Makaidos pulled his head back through the door. Although his sense of danger pinched his nerves again, the conversation between Ham and the raven seemed innocent enough. He had heard birds talk before, even ravens, and this one seemed to be trying to figure out how to escape. Who could blame it for wanting to go free? Still, something felt wrong. . very wrong. Weren’t ravens simply mimics rather than reasoning creatures? He would have to keep an eye on this suspicious crow.

The raven flew up through the hatch and into the rafters, carrying a dried grape in its beak. It landed on a high beam and set the grape next to another one. As Makaidos pondered the bird’s strange behavior, he shuffled back to his stall and found Thigocia awake.

“Patrolling?” she asked, stretching her legs and wings.

Makaidos stayed out in the corridor and spoke softly. “It is difficult to sleep when my mind replays my father’s death.”

Thigocia stepped to the stall’s entry and reached her wing over Makaidos’s neck. “I apologize for what I said about your sister.”

“My sister? What did you say about her?”

“I implied that she was a crybaby. I had forgotten that she would also die in the flood.”

Makaidos cocked his head and let his voice grow a bit louder. “You said that months ago. Why do you bring it up now?”

Thigocia lowered her gaze to the floor. “I was unable to think of any other reason you might be angry with me.”

“I am not angry with you! I told you I do not know why I could not pass through the veil.”

“Shhh!” Thigocia warned. “The humans are sleeping.”

“I was sleeping!” Noah stepped out of his quarters and stretched his arms. “Is there a problem?”

Makaidos grimaced. “Pardon me, Master Noah. I apologize for my outburst.”

Noah walked slowly toward them, balancing against the rocking boat. “Think nothing of it, my friend. After so many months in close quarters, we are all on edge.”

“Not just on edge. Thigocia and I are weak from lack of light. When we were adrift, we could absorb the rays that came in through the window, but now we are wedged at an angle that does not allow the sun to enter. The lanterns and vents in the rafters help, but we cannot survive much longer without direct sunlight.”

Sympathy creased Noah’s brow. “The doors are sealed. By God’s command I cannot open ”

“Yes, Master Noah. I know. I did not mean my explanation to be interpreted as a complaint against you.”

Ham climbed up from the lower deck. “Father,” he said, bowing his head as he approached. “I overheard your conversation. May I suggest something?”

Makaidos felt a twinge of warning again. This was the most respect Ham had shown his father the entire journey.

Noah returned a head nod. “Certainly.”

“Since mountaintops are visible in the distance, you suggested last week that there might be land close by in one of the directions we can’t see. Why not send out a bird to test that theory. If it comes back, there is likely no place to land.”

“I have thought of that.” Noah pressed a finger to his cheek. “We have very few birds to spare, but I was thinking we could release one of the doves we brought for sacrifice.”

Ham shook his head. “No need. We can send my raven out. She’s expendable, and she can let us know if there is dry land nearby.”

Noah laughed. “I heard that raven grumbling about grapes the other day. I thought I was finally losing my mind.”

Ham pointed at the black bird as it perched in the rafters. “I’ve been talking to her for months, and she’s learned quite a few words, so I trained her to fetch things, like crickets for the snakes or raisins for the monkeys. She could find something on land and bring it to us.”

Makaidos gazed into Ham’s eyes, searching for a hint of a lie. He had seen him talking to the raven, so that part was true enough, but the raven spoke back to him. Would Ham mention that, too?

Noah stroked his chin. “But there will be no crickets or raisins to find. Everything will be dead and washed away.”

“True, but before the grapes dried out, I taught her the difference between the purple ones and the green ones. I’ll just ask her to bring us something green. Maybe new seedlings have sprouted by now.”

“An interesting theory,” Noah said. “I think it’s worth a try. We’re all anxious to get our feet back on solid ground.” He shuffled into the anteroom, a noticeable stagger in his step. He opened the shutters, allowing a stiff breeze to sweep through the cabin.

Ham whistled toward the rafters, and the raven fluttered down to his shoulder. “Go to my father,” Ham said. He then whispered something in the bird’s ear.

Makaidos snorted to himself. That whispering was more than words of comfort. Something devious was going on.

With two flaps of its ebony wings, the raven jumped to Noah’s shoulder, its feathers ruffling in the wind. Ham hustled down the ladder toward the second level. “I’ll be right back,” he called.

“What’s going on?” Japheth stepped into the corridor, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you opening the window so early?”

Noah nodded at the raven on his shoulder. “An experiment, of sorts.”

“Ham’s raven? What could it ”

“Here it is!” Ham said, climbing back to the top level. He held a green anole in his hand and showed it to the raven. “Green,” he said, stroking the lizard’s skin. “Bring me something green.”

Noah turned his shoulder toward the window, and the raven leaped for the exit, its wings beating against the breeze. Noah left the window open and limped toward his quarters, his back bent. “I will pray with Emzara for the raven. Perhaps this long journey will end soon.”

Makaidos lurched toward the window and extended his neck through the opening as far as he could. The ark listed to one side, clearly stuck on something beneath the white-capped waves that constantly punished the hull. To his left and only several feet below his level, the main deck’s blistered planks led away from Adam’s door.

From his vantage point, the deck seemed to be an observation platform where someone standing at the parapet could look out over the dark blue sea. A few distant mountaintops peeked through the endless expanse of water, too far away for any possibility of reaching them against both wind and waves. The only hope lay on the other side of the ark, but that view was out of reach, even for a long-necked dragon.

Makaidos opened his eyes wide and drank in the sun’s rays. Pure luxury! His neck scales cried out for joy, but even this splendor was nothing more than a tease. He and Thigocia needed much more energy, a recharge that only a full sunbath could bring, and the rays at this angle, not quite enough to sneak into the window, provided only a glancing exposure.

He pulled his head back inside. Since the bird was nowhere in sight, there was no use keeping watch. Even if Ham’s idea could work, the presence of a dragon in the window would surely frighten the raven away.

Makaidos stared into the ark’s dim interior, giving his eyes a moment to adjust. His vision flashed on to compensate for the change, and the two dim beams locked onto Ham’s chest as he stood next to Japheth. Both men were watching the window.

Ham swept his hand across the pair of red dots on his tunic, trying to brush them away as if they were bothersome flies. When the dots stayed put, he glanced at Makaidos, a frown taking shape on his face. Without uttering a word, he climbed down the ladder and disappeared through the hole.