Read Online Treasure of Light (The Light Trilogy) by Kathleen O’Neal - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kathleen O’Neal
Ads: Link
mind.
Somewhere, through the mists of sleep, she heard a soft footfall and felt herself float upward into a golden shimmering haze. The sounds of the chilling polar cap vanished as though they’d never existed and light played across her closed eyelids, fluttering, misty, moving, bathing her in heat. Her frozen limbs ached miserably for a time, then felt as though a million needles pricked them. After an eternity of pain and cold, warmth began to seep inside her and she fell deeper asleep, floating, just floating in the immeasurable ocean of light.
A soft soothing voice swirled out of the gold. “What did God say, Rachel, when you asked him why the universe suffers so?”
“Who … who are you?”
“What did He say?”
“He told me I wasn’t worthy to ask. He asked me where I was when he laid the foundations of the universe.”
A tired sigh fluttered around her on saffron wings. “And if you could bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades or loose the bands of Orion, I’ll wager.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Oh, it’s his standard rebuttal. A weak appeal to authority.”
“He told me the spinning patterns of chaos give him great pleasure.”
“And what did you say?”
“I… I told him Aktariel was right. I told him it would be better if we were never born than to live in misery all our lives.”
“There are things we can do to end the misery.” A hand of flame descended, stroking her hair with comforting fingers. “Rachel, Rachel, last of the sefira. Will you help me stop the suffering? Together, we can.”
“But… What is that? A sefira? I read about it in Middoth’s journal in the polar chambers.”
“It’s a vessel. A vessel of pure Light.”
Terror tightened at the base of her throat. Why did that kind, soothing voice suddenly sound so familiar? “Who are you?”
“Someone who loves you. I’ve loved you and waited for you for uncounted millennia.”
“I don’t understand.”
A roar of thunder vibrated through the golden womb. Cannon fire? The civil war? Rachel shuddered.
“I’m sorry, Rachel. You have to wake up now. Jeremiel needs you desperately. We have to hurry.”
Jeremiel? For a single blessed moment her heart soared like an eagle on the wind. “Jeremiel? He’s all right?”
“For the moment. But he won’t be if you don’t wake up soon.”
“Why?”
“He’s in a lot of trouble.”
The void moved, swirling like topaz fire. Her leaden eyelids fluttered open, lashes covered with ice. Prismatic reflections sparkled, faces broken into crystal facets, like seeing through a kaleidoscope. A thousand amber eyes stared down, singularly gentle. She let herself drown in the warmth she found there.
The ground shook.
“We must hurry, Rachel. I’m sorry.”
The golden void dissolved like clouds in hot winds. She jerked awake, panting, shouting, “The War! Ornias!”
She tried to sit up and found herself staring into the glimmering amber eyes of Aktariel. She froze. Not a dream. … He had her cradled to his bosom. The hood of his blue cloak ruffled softly in the wind penetrating the ice cave. Within the hood, his face shone a brilliant gold, handsome features seemingly chiseled from light.
“Leave me alone!” She shoved out of his grasp, scrambling madly on hands and knees to get away. Dear God, this bright alien was terrifyingly real. How could that be? Am I losing my mind?
“Rachel, we must talk.”
She pressed back against the far wall. Her white weather-suit screeched with every movement, ice cracking off to tinkle against the cave floor. The temperature had to be eighty below zero, though her body still felt warm where he’d held her.
“No! I read Middoth’s journals, I know you misled and killed him! And you killed Adom!”
In a fluid graceful motion, he braced a hand on the floor and got to his feet. She couldn’t catch her breath. In the gleam cast by his body, the walls glittered as though crusted with diamonds. “I made a mistake with
Somewhere, through the mists of sleep, she heard a soft footfall and felt herself float upward into a golden shimmering haze. The sounds of the chilling polar cap vanished as though they’d never existed and light played across her closed eyelids, fluttering, misty, moving, bathing her in heat. Her frozen limbs ached miserably for a time, then felt as though a million needles pricked them. After an eternity of pain and cold, warmth began to seep inside her and she fell deeper asleep, floating, just floating in the immeasurable ocean of light.
A soft soothing voice swirled out of the gold. “What did God say, Rachel, when you asked him why the universe suffers so?”
“Who … who are you?”
“What did He say?”
“He told me I wasn’t worthy to ask. He asked me where I was when he laid the foundations of the universe.”
A tired sigh fluttered around her on saffron wings. “And if you could bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades or loose the bands of Orion, I’ll wager.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Oh, it’s his standard rebuttal. A weak appeal to authority.”
“He told me the spinning patterns of chaos give him great pleasure.”
“And what did you say?”
“I… I told him Aktariel was right. I told him it would be better if we were never born than to live in misery all our lives.”
“There are things we can do to end the misery.” A hand of flame descended, stroking her hair with comforting fingers. “Rachel, Rachel, last of the sefira. Will you help me stop the suffering? Together, we can.”
“But… What is that? A sefira? I read about it in Middoth’s journal in the polar chambers.”
“It’s a vessel. A vessel of pure Light.”
Terror tightened at the base of her throat. Why did that kind, soothing voice suddenly sound so familiar? “Who are you?”
“Someone who loves you. I’ve loved you and waited for you for uncounted millennia.”
“I don’t understand.”
A roar of thunder vibrated through the golden womb. Cannon fire? The civil war? Rachel shuddered.
“I’m sorry, Rachel. You have to wake up now. Jeremiel needs you desperately. We have to hurry.”
Jeremiel? For a single blessed moment her heart soared like an eagle on the wind. “Jeremiel? He’s all right?”
“For the moment. But he won’t be if you don’t wake up soon.”
“Why?”
“He’s in a lot of trouble.”
The void moved, swirling like topaz fire. Her leaden eyelids fluttered open, lashes covered with ice. Prismatic reflections sparkled, faces broken into crystal facets, like seeing through a kaleidoscope. A thousand amber eyes stared down, singularly gentle. She let herself drown in the warmth she found there.
The ground shook.
“We must hurry, Rachel. I’m sorry.”
The golden void dissolved like clouds in hot winds. She jerked awake, panting, shouting, “The War! Ornias!”
She tried to sit up and found herself staring into the glimmering amber eyes of Aktariel. She froze. Not a dream. … He had her cradled to his bosom. The hood of his blue cloak ruffled softly in the wind penetrating the ice cave. Within the hood, his face shone a brilliant gold, handsome features seemingly chiseled from light.
“Leave me alone!” She shoved out of his grasp, scrambling madly on hands and knees to get away. Dear God, this bright alien was terrifyingly real. How could that be? Am I losing my mind?
“Rachel, we must talk.”
She pressed back against the far wall. Her white weather-suit screeched with every movement, ice cracking off to tinkle against the cave floor. The temperature had to be eighty below zero, though her body still felt warm where he’d held her.
“No! I read Middoth’s journals, I know you misled and killed him! And you killed Adom!”
In a fluid graceful motion, he braced a hand on the floor and got to his feet. She couldn’t catch her breath. In the gleam cast by his body, the walls glittered as though crusted with diamonds. “I made a mistake with
Similar Books
