There Comes A Prophet Read online

Thomas plopped down next to her, brushing her shoulder as he sat.

  "Not smart enough? You've been brilliant. We'd never have come this far without you. Not that Nathaniel and I haven't contributed, but you were the best."

  Orah rocked to one side and bumped him playfully before becoming thoughtful.

  "But what if you were right about another thing? What if it's taken too long for the seekers to arise? What if we did everything right but the doors no longer work?"

  Nathaniel had been pacing the room, poking at every crack and corner. But he turned now to his friends.

  "Then we're not to blame. Other generations had the chance. We've done more than all of them. We have nothing to be ashamed of."

  He dropped down on Orah's other side and watched her drawing circles in the dust. She finally glanced up.

  "You're the best of friends, and I'm so grateful to be with you. But we're supposed to be the seekers, the most curious and persistent of our generation. Are we now saying it's all right to accept failure because we're victims to the order of things?"

  The order of things. Nathaniel jumped up. He strode to the doors, his mind racing.

  "We haven't failed yet. You said the word order-the order of the rhyme. Maybe it's not the numbers in the rhyme. It's the lines that contain numbers."

  His friends looked perplexed.

  "There are sixteen numbers and sixteen lines to the rhyme. What are the exact last words?"

  "When touched by the lines of the rhyme."

  He became more confident. "I'll show you what I mean."

  He found a fresh section of floor and wrote down one through sixteen.

  "Now, Orah, recite the rhyme, one line at a time."

  She did.

  To the North, behind the rock face

  "No number in that line, so we remove it." His boot rubbed out the number one.

  Orah stirred and rose to her feet, leaning over Nathaniel's drawings. Then she continued.

  Twixt water and dark walls of pine

  For a full eight days you shall race

  One more past four falls in a line

  The number two was erased, but three and four stayed. When they were finished, a new sequence remained: Three. Four. Seven. Twelve. Fifteen.

  Orah nodded. "It's worth a try. I'll read the list and you press the buttons."

  "No. You do it this time."

  Her face flushed. "It's not my place. It was your idea. You deserve the honor."

  "Thomas was right. We wouldn't have made it here without all of us. Besides, it's only a guess. Maybe you'll change our luck."

  Orah took his face in her hands, pulled his head down and kissed him. Then she went to the box at the side of the golden doors.

  "I'm ready."

  Nathaniel read the list, while Orah touched the stars. When the last was called out, her finger hovered and her dark eyes glowed.

  "It'll work this time, Nathaniel of Little Pond. I can feel it."

  She pressed the final number.

  Slowly, the structure came alive. The floor began to vibrate. Then they heard the grinding of gears, unused for centuries, echoing off the starred dome. In moments, the doors started to swing inward.

  The power of the Temple had been thwarted; the challenges of the masters had been met.

  They'd found the keep at last.

  Part Three

  The Keep

  "In searching for the truth be ready for the unexpected."

  Heraklietos of Ephesos

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Magic Window

  The golden doors led to a much less impressive corridor. No vaulted domes or marble columns, no statues or artwork-only windowless walls and a low, flat ceiling, a place built for utility more than splendor. Nathaniel advanced with care, wary of the hidden defenses. He'd been surprised by the power of the Temple and was not about to underestimate the keep.

  After a dozen paces, he was startled by a recurrence of gears grinding. He turned to see the doors swinging shut behind them. Thomas raced back and tried to slip between them, though each was tenfold his weight and driving to closure. Nathaniel yanked him free before he was crushed.

  "What were you doing?" Orah said.

  Thomas whirled back and clawed at the metal. "We'll be trapped in the dark."

  As the edges of the doors came together with a thud, the daylight from outside began to fade, but darkness never came. Instead, a glow rose all around them, brightest where they stood but with no identifiable source.

  Nathaniel noticed, next to the doors, a twin of the box with the sixteen stars. The keep would be no prison.

  But Orah was already allaying Thomas's fears. "Don't worry. This isn't Temple City. The keepmasters have helped us get here and now we're their guests. Come, both of you and take my hand."

  She reached out and they joined with her. Then she bowed her head.

  "Blessed is the light that has given us life, allowed us to thrive and brought us here to this day."

  Thomas was aghast. "Should you be quoting the book of light in here?"

  "I'm praying to the true light, Thomas, not to the Temple. The keepmasters will understand."

  Nathaniel waited respectfully, but as soon as Orah was finished, he urged them to move on down the darkened corridor. Whenever they approached the boundary of light, new illumination appeared. The glow was following them wherever they went.

  The corridor ended with two doors, more modest than the golden ones that guarded the keep. Nathaniel reached out to test them, but before he could touch them, they slid open on their own. He stepped through, with the others close behind.

  They found themselves in a circular chamber filled with hundreds of seats, all facing forward. But as they tried to guess the room's purpose, everything went dark, save a sequence of red lights in the floor that outlined an aisle to the front.

  "Well," Nathaniel said. "What are we waiting for? We're being shown the way."

  The three followed the lit path and then fanned out to explore, Nathaniel to the left, Thomas to the right and Orah straight ahead.

  As Nathaniel groped for the wall, he heard a crackling noise behind him as if paper were being crushed. He caught a flash of light and turned in time to see Orah jump back.

  "A... window appeared in that wall," she said, "It was dark, I swear, but then turned bright as day. And now it's gone."

  "A window?"

  "Don't you doubt me, Nathaniel. I know what I saw."

  "I wouldn't doubt anything in this place. Show me where it was."

  She spun about, trying to regain her bearings, and pointed at the darkened wall.

  Nathaniel followed her gesture, inhaled once and blew out two breaths, as if about to start a race at festival. His legs seemed made of water, but he forced them forward.

  At once, there was the same crackling noise and what seemed to be a window appeared. Nathaniel could make out people on the far side. They looked unthreatening, but he backed away before they could see him and the window disappeared.

  The three remained still, with no sound except their breathing and a low hum that had been present since arriving at the keep.

  "Do you believe me now?" Orah said.

  "I do." Thomas said and began backtracking toward the exit. "And I think we should get out of here."

  Orah began to follow, but Nathaniel blocked their way.

  "How can you think of leaving? This is what we've been searching for all these weeks? You can do what you want, but I plan to speak with the masters on the far side of that window."

  Embarrassed, Orah returned to his side and after a moment, Thomas as well.

  Nathaniel approached the front of the chamber again and the window reappeared.

  "They must know we're here," he whispered, "and are opening the window to welcome us."

  "Or to eat us for dinner," Thomas said.

  The people became clearer. At a plain metal table sat two men and a woman, all much older than the seekers. The woman wore her
grey hair long and was dressed like a man. The first man had a beard, not the jaw line cut prescribed by the Temple but a full, bushy beard like an arch vicar, red in color with speckles of grey. The second was clean-shaven but wore his hair longer than the woman's, tied in back to form a tail.

  The man with the beard stood, stared straight at Nathaniel and calmly strode toward him.

  Nathaniel planted his feet so they wouldn't run away. "I am Nathaniel of Little Pond," he said, his voice sounding like a scared boy pretending to be brave. "I have come following the clues of the keepers, to seek the-"

  The man with the beard ignored him as if he were invisible. Could he possibly not see him? Nathaniel inched forward and waved a hand.

  No response.

  The man came to a halt and stood ready, like a teacher waiting for students to settle before class. Nathaniel waved harder this time, making circles with both hands.

  No response.

  He turned to check with the others, then eased forward to within reach of the window. He extended a finger, a hair's breadth at a time, until he touched the man's nose.

  The image dissolved into liquid, like a reflection in the ripples of a pond. Nathaniel jerked his hand away, horrified at what he'd done, but the man's face re-composed, returning to normal. The keepmaster never lost his poise.

  Nathaniel blew out a stream of air and returned to his friends. What he now knew to be a picture-a moving picture-went dark once more.

  "A message from the past," he said.

  Orah agreed with a nervous energy. "Only an image of the old keepmasters."

  "Sure," Thomas said. "How could they be alive today?"

  They found the window would also brighten if they sat in the chairs for a time. The intent was clear-visitors were to enter the room, take their seats and listen. The three settled in the front row and waited for the message to restart. They watched as the man retraced his steps and became transfixed when he addressed them with these words.

  "Greetings seekers."

  He welcomed them to the keep with all the manners customary in the Ponds. But Nathaniel was beyond manners, anxious to find out why they were here.

  Once the niceties were finished, the keepmaster began.

  "We are the founders of the keep, built before the darkness settled upon the world. You who have come here have justified our hope, that even after centuries of stagnation, there would be those who wanted to know more. You are the courageous few, able to overcome not only the Temple of Light, but the obstacles we placed in your path. You are worthy of the treasures preserved here."

  Orah sat up taller. Thomas puffed out his chest. But Nathaniel leaned forward and concentrated. He recalled the empty seats on the flying snake, saw the empty seats now, and a fear crept into his heart.

  The master continued. "So why the keep? Though the Temple had existed for a hundred years, the vicars had not yet solidified their dominion over the world. Dissimilar points of view were allowed not because the vicars were tolerant, but because they lacked enough power to suppress everyone else. But the foolishness of our leaders drove the disillusioned into their arms. The vicars began to control everything-the teaching of the young, the exchange of information, travel. We came to understand their growing power was irreversible."

  The man in the window pressed closer, his face becoming grim.

  "Our age of enlightenment was ending. We grieved for the loss of knowledge, the demise of the spirit of innovation. A number of us resolved to preserve these for the future. We fled to the ruins of the greatest city of our age, through what had become wilderness. There, inside a world-renowned center of learning, the keep was born.

  "We knew there had been other dark periods in history when progress had stagnated, but the human spirit is resilient and has always revived. So we constructed the keep to last a thousand years and lay in it the seeds for those who'd someday emerge.

  "The best of our age-scholars, artists, thinkers-dedicated their lives to recording their knowledge, so when the time came, the new generation could learn from the past. We began in the year ninety two of what the Temple cynically called the age of light. As we record this message, it is the year one hundred and forty two. Our task is complete. The rest is up to you."

  Nathaniel whispered to Orah. "Fifty years to finish the keep."

  "And a thousand since this message was recorded." Even in the faint glow cast by the floor lights, Nathaniel could see her eyes smoldering. "It's a disgrace we've taken so long to find the keep, and a miracle it still functions."

  The bearded man was finished, and the woman took his place. She began in a muted voice that gained enthusiasm as she spoke.

  "The keep was constructed for long-term use. It holds all the knowledge of our age. There's a lot to learn here. We've made provision for you to stay as long as you wish. There's ample food and water. The food has been dried and sealed without air, to preserve it for an extended period. It will appear strange to you, but when water is added, will taste acceptable and provide all your nutritional needs. The keep has panels on its roof that soak up the sun and turn it into energy. You'll have light wherever you go and feel comfortable throughout the year, cool in summer and warm in winter.

  "You'll meet many helpers throughout the keep, recordings we made to provide a way to learn. You can access them through the same kind of screen on which you're viewing us now. Each shows a different field of knowledge-history, art, science and much more.

  "The screens will light up as you approach, as this one did. If you ask questions, they'll respond. If you're done with a topic, say 'stop'. If you're confused, say 'help' and an explanation will follow."

  She paused to take a sip from a porcelain cup on the table. When she turned back, she had a quiet dignity about her.

  "All the exploits of our age, the triumphs and failures, are here. Humankind was imperfect in our day, as I'm sure it is in yours. In some ages we've been at our best and in others our worst, but overall the race moves on. The Temple of Light stopped that progress. You are the spark that will bring it back to life. Accept our knowledge as a bequest from the past. Take what you believe to be good, discard what you think to be bad, but above all, move forward from where we left off. We encourage you to stay, learn and then teach others."

  The woman resumed her seat and the last keepmaster, the one with his hair in a tail, took her place. He was the most animated.

  "We congratulate you on the success of your revolution. Your presence means the Temple has at last been defeated, or its power so diminished that the keepers felt it safe to reveal themselves. We can help by arming you with knowledge.

  "You are the leaders of a great movement. Bring your followers here. The keep has been built to sustain hundreds. The keep is yours. Its knowledge will dispel the darkness and light the way, so the world may be reborn."

  The window disappeared, and the glow of the hidden lights returned. When Nathaniel looked back at his friends, their faces had gone pale. He spoke for them all.

  "At least now we know what the seekers were supposed to be."

  "Yes," Orah said. "And it wasn't us."

  ***

  Nathaniel slumped in his chair. Orah rested her chin on her hands and contemplated her fingers. Only Thomas stood, circling the chamber as if hoping to find a window with a different message. After his second loop, Nathaniel could bear his pacing no more.

  "Come sit, Thomas. We need all of us to think this through."

  Thomas stopped, but stayed standing. "What's to think about? The message was clear. The congratulations of the keepmasters were undeserved. It wasn't us they'd invited. They expected the elders of a new generation, not three young seekers filled with delusions."

  "But seekers nevertheless." Orah's voice was barely audible in the large room.

  Thomas spun around, his faced flushed. "Don't you understand? The keepers were supposed to wait for a rebellion to begin, but it took too long. They got desperate and stumbled upon us in their final breath. Our
success was luck, not the stuff of legend. We're not the seekers they expected. We're... an accident."

  Nathaniel stood, using his height to intimidate Thomas.

  "You're right, Thomas. Our forebears failed. But now there's only us. And our fate depends on what we make of it. So what if we're an accident. The bigger question is what to do next."

  The question hung in the air. Orah remained silent, for once devoid of answers. But Thomas had a response.

  "Well, I for one know what we should do." He paused, waiting for their full attention. "The keepmasters said one thing that impressed me. They may be useless to protect us, but they've left plenty of food. I'm going to find something to eat."

  Orah eased into a smile. "I knew there was a reason why we brought you along."

  She stood and beckoned to Nathaniel. "Better than sitting here feeling glum."

  Nathaniel hesitated, searching for a more noble answer, some battle to fight. But there were no enemies in the vicinity, no great cause to be found. So he followed his friends to explore the keep.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A Question for Heroes

  The keep was honeycombed with round chambers, most with corridors extending from them like spokes. On the wall by the entrance to each corridor was a smaller version of the keepmasters' window. As they came near, the window would light up with words describing its treasure.

  Nathaniel stopped before one that showed the word "Botany."

  "Bo-tay-nee," he said. "or maybe Baht-ah-ni. What does that mean?"

  "The keepmaster said we could ask the... screen... for help," Orah said. "Give it a try."

  Nathaniel hesitated, recalling his embarrassment in the welcome chamber. When he spoke, his voice lacked conviction.

  "Help."

  A woman appeared, much younger than the others and eager to serve.

  "What is your question?"

  "What is Bot-a-ny?" He tried to be precise with the pronunciation.

  "Botany is the study of plants."

  Nathaniel beamed, pleased with his success. Then, while the helper waited, a more pressing question occurred to him. "Can you tell us where to find food?"