GOD AND A MIRACLE
A wave of disorientation rolled over Grandmother and
she almost blacked out.
What was that? she wondered, passing her hand over
her eyes. Good thing she’d been sitting. She’d felt movement, a
displacement of the world, and its subsequent
reordering.
The others appeared
unaffected, unaware. Deglin tossed another stick of wood on the
fire, and Min and Sarat discussed what to do about cooking utensils
since Grandmother had “ruined” one of their pots. Cole stretched
his back and shoulders, and Lala played string games.
Somehow she had the
vague idea that Deglin and Sarat shouldn’t be there, and that their
little group had moved to the edge of the grove after awakening the
Sleepers because of all the destruction, not remained where they
were. It must have been a dream of the sort one exhausted to the
core dreamed, a dream close to reality but not, and
darker.
It was a good thing
they hadn’t moved to the fringes of the grove because that appeared
to be where most of the destruction to the great trees was
concentrated. The inner trees remained unchanged. There had not
been as many Sleepers as she’d expected and she was not sure of
what God’s response would be. She looked into the fire, recalled
that she’d seen what Birch was up to, and that God had come to her.
Hadn’t He? At first He was pleased, and then . . . enraged? Perhaps
she remembered only the dream, and her memories of it were quickly
fading.
But not the part
about Birch. How strange. She shrugged. No matter, she’d done what
she came here to do, and after she rested for the night, they’d
begin their journey home. Maybe they’d even survive
it.
“Have another cup of
tea,” Sarat said, pressing a mug into Grandmother’s hands. “We must
have you strong for our journey back.”
“Thank you, my
dear.”
A strong gust of
wind rippled the surface of her tea, bent the flames of their
campfire sideways, sending sparks tumbling along the ground. The
vast limbs of the grove trees groaned and carried on an angry
dialog among themselves.
Grandmother set her
tea aside. “Help me rise,” she told Cole, and he did, resettling
the blanket over her shoulders.
“What is it,
Grandmother?” Sarat asked, her hands trembling.
They were pelted
with pine needles and twigs, and damp, decaying cones. Leaves
whirled along the forest floor in dervishes. The ground
shuddered.
“Grandmother?” Sarat
asked, her voice pitched higher.
“I am not sure,” she
replied, but the air was bloated with expectancy—the forest
strainng against some imminent collision, the rising of a storm
tide, something momentous, a shattering of all they’d known, and a
thrill shivered through her.
The mist pushed away
leaving a giant man-shaped space in the air.
“I HAVE
COME.”
“It is God,”
Grandmother whispered. The mist billowed and roiled, filling in the
image of the man shape until it no longer existed.
“I AM HERE.” The
thunderous voice erupted this time from Deglin.
They turned as one
to face him. His body was straightened in an attitude Grandmother
had never seen in him before. She did not recognize his eyes—they
burned as molten coals. He raked them with an imperious
glare.
“Finally, our time
is congruent.” He laughed half hysterically, not at all like
Deglin. He snapped off his laughter, looked around the grove, his
face grave with disapproval. Then he speared Grandmother with his
stare. “But you have failed me.” His words were quiet, but
Grandmother’s knees turned fluid and folded. Cole caught her and
helped ease her down so she did not crash to the ground and injure
herself.
“My ... my lord,
I’ve awakened the Sleepers.”
“You allowed most of
them to escape through time.”
Grandmother did not
understand the statement, but something niggled in the back of her
mind. The dream, maybe.
“Who are you?” He
demanded.
“You do not know?”
she asked. How could God not know?
His gaze lost focus
and He appeared to look inward, then He nodded to Himself. “This
one has told me all that I need to know.” He must mean Deglin. He
gazed at Grandmother once again, but this time His assessment was
more approving. “You work against the Sacor Clans in my name to
return the empire to its glory.”
“Yes, my lord. It is
what I live for.”
“Then you shall
return across the wall to continue your work. I shall see that you
have safe passage through this land.” Sweat streamed down the face
that was Deglin’s, his cheeks flushed.
“What of you, my
lord?”
“The others are
still here. There is one among them whose taste I know.
They will not receive safe passage.” He
gave her a grim smile, Deglin’s flesh turning redder as if he were
burning up.
Grandmother knew her
God was not a gentle God, but she had never feared Him before. She
did now. Sarat had wilted to the ground sobbing, and Min and Cole
kept their heads bowed, eyes averted.
Lala watched him
curiously, and then like a miracle, she opened her mouth and a
clear bright note came singing out of her. Everyone stared aghast
at her, even God. The note rose up and up into the mist and limbs
of the great trees, the voice of an angel.
God laughed again
and strode over to Lala, steam rising from Deglin’s body, and He
placed His hand on her shoulder. “This little one has some power in
her. Teach her well.”
“I will, my lord,”
Grandmother replied, stunned by how well the spell of the redbird
had worked. Perhaps the presence of God had enhanced Lala’s new,
glorious voice. She concentrated for a moment, directed her
thoughts toward the wall, but heard no music there; felt only
consternation and grief.
“I must go now,” God
said.
“I love you,” Lala
sang out.
God patted her on
the head, then Deglin’s body slipped limply to the ground like a
shed skin. Wind gusted once again through the grove. Grandmother
crawled over to Deglin, but found no life in him, though his flesh
burned so hot that she could only conclude that God’s presence must
have boiled him from the inside out.
Lala sang a dirge
that broke them all down to weeping. They held each other,
comforting one another in a strange combination of grief and joy.
It was a day of loss, and a day of miracles. God had walked among
them, and Lala sang with an angel’s voice!
Grandmother assumed
that the others God had mentioned were only going to know His
wrath. She smiled through her tears, holding Lala
close.