Rou silently beamed at his words of approval.
“How far is Erlitou from here?” Griffin asked.
“About six hundred miles. We can set out tomorrow morning.”
“Great,” Cassie said. “That will give me time to catch the evening show of the square-dancing grannies. I want to take some snapshots because nobody back home will believe me.”
Chapter 15—What Dreams May Come
The diviner settled into the easy chair in his sleeping quarters. He gave a mirthless chuckle at its inappropriate name. Considering his chronic insomnia, there was nothing particularly easy or restful about this piece of furniture. He glanced at a tumbler of water placed on the table next to his chair. Beside it sat a small bottle containing the medicine that Brother Andrew had prepared for him.
Abraham thought about the previous concoction which the herbalist assured him would assist in sleep. It had failed miserably, only augmenting the nightmares from which he already suffered. He wondered if this new medicine would be any better. Could it be any worse? He sighed and carefully measured out the dose. The herbalist had been most insistent that Abraham take only the specified number of drops and no more. Apparently, this remedy was far more potent than the last.
He swirled the contents of the glass and drank it over the course of several minutes. Well, it didn’t taste as bad as the other medicine had—perhaps because it was far more diluted. Abraham waited a few moments. Nothing happened. He fought the urge to double the dosage. Instead, he resigned himself to another failed experiment. Dimming the table lamp, he settled back and closed his eyes. Brother Andrew would certainly get an earful in the morning. He would...
***
Abraham was standing in a field of tall green grass that smelled of springtime. The sun was shining brightly overhead. He didn’t know why, but he felt utterly free from care. All his worries, the burden of his position, fell away from him like a heavy overcoat on a summer’s day. He felt a calm conviction that all was well. It was an utterly unknown sensation. Abraham couldn’t recall a time, even as a little boy, when all had been supremely well. There had always been something to fear or someone. Above all else, he had lived his entire life in constant terror of displeasing the Lord. But at this moment, the diviner felt blameless in God’s eyes. He knew he could do no wrong and that all his petty transgressions had been forgiven.
It was utterly baffling how he knew all these things, but he was convinced that they were true just the same. He walked up to the crest of a hill. The sight before him took his breath away. A quarter mile below, where the hillside sloped downward, stood a shining city. The buildings were all made of white marble, and the roofs of the buildings glinted of gold. A marble wall surrounded the city. The only opening was barred by a pair of tall golden gates. From inside the city walls, he could hear music—the sweetest sound he had ever heard or imagined. Voices endlessly raised in a chorus of praise. Abraham looked at the ground beneath his feet where a cobblestone path had sprung up out of the earth. It led from where he stood directly to the city’s entrance.
A voice spoke beside him. “You are surely blessed among men, Abraham Metcalf.”
He turned to see a being of surpassing beauty standing at his side. He was clothed in a shimmering white robe, and a golden glow radiated all around his form. Although the creature had no wings, Abraham was convinced he stood in the presence of an archangel.
“How are you called?” he asked timidly, stunned by the splendor of this divine entity.
“My name is Phanuel. I have come to show you the way to your celestial home.”
“You mean there?” Abraham gestured to the gates which seemed to be slowly parting before him.
The archangel nodded.
“But it isn’t my time yet,” Abraham protested.” I have much to do yet on earth.”
“I understand,” Phanuel replied without surprise. “This is merely a vision of the reward that awaits you at the end of your days.”
The diviner was knocked speechless by this revelation. For months, even years, he had been plagued with visions of the fiery pit. He dreaded failing to do God’s will. All of that seemed a foul illusion now, sent by the devil to frighten him. Only this moment was real. His heart felt so light that he imagined it was about to float free of his chest.
Phanuel continued. “The Lord knows of your plan to bring His kingdom to earth. He knows and is well-pleased. Remain faithful, stay the course and your reward shall be great in heaven. All the voices you now hear shall sing of your exploits. You shall be known as the Deliverer. You shall redeem the Blessed Nephilim and bring the Fallen World back to God.”
Abraham closed his eyes and felt himself weightlessly flying through the air, borne on the chorus of celestial voices to the very throne of the Most High.
He blinked and opened his eyes. They were still standing on the hillside.
Phanuel placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “In the days to come, remember all I have shown you. Stay the course, Abraham, and your reward shall be great indeed.”
In a dazzling flash of light, the archangel disappeared. The diviner stood blinking in the sun until an overpowering sense of drowsiness overcame him. He sank down to the sweet green grass and fell into a deep repose.
***
A knocking sound intruded on his rest. Abraham shifted to resettle himself in a more comfortable position, but the knocking persisted. Then a door slammed, and a voice followed.
“Father Abraham, wake up.”
Someone was tugging at his shirt sleeve.
“What?” He sat up groggily. It took several seconds for his eyes to focus. Much to his surprise, daylight was streaming through the drapes in his chamber. He rubbed
