Through a Glass Darkly (Harbingers Book 17) by Myers Bill

Author:Myers, Bill [Myers, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Amaris Media International
Published: 2016-12-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

I woke up swinging. Didn’t know where I was. Didn’t matter.

“Easy, Miss Brenda, easy.”

I felt Cowboy’s big paws holding me down. My head exploded in pain. I would have fought harder, but I had nothing left.

“Easy.”

I relaxed. A little. I dropped my head back down onto what felt like grass.

“Pretty impressive,” Chad said.

“Well done, Tank,” Andi added.

I finally pried open my eyes.

“Welcome back,” Chad said.

I focused and saw them staring at me from around a small campfire. Except for Cowboy. He was leaning back on his haunches smiling down at me. The light around us was soft and pinkish like just before sunset. I heard a stream bubbling nearby. And Birds. Lots of chirping and singing.

“What . . .” I swallowed and tried again. “What happened?

“Not much,” Chad said. “Well, except for the part of you drowning and the troll here, bringing you back to life.”

“What?”

“Just a little mouth-to-mouth.” Chad said. Winking at Cowboy, he added, “Which I’m betting you didn’t mind, eh, big guy?”

Cowboy glanced away, obviously embarrassed.

It took some effort, but I finally managed to sit up. That’s when I spotted the fawn. She stood beside Andi, nuzzling her arm. “Where are we?”

Chad nodded to Bijan. “Our man here calls it Eden.”

“Eden?”

He kicked a bunny sniffing at his shoe. “Scram.”

“Eden?” I repeated. “As in . . .”

“The Garden of Eden,” Andi said.

I frowned.

“Yeah, I didn’t buy it either,” Chad said. He nodded towards Andi, “’Til Miss hot and lovely here reminded us.”

Ignoring him, she asked me, “Are you sure you’re okay? You had us all pretty worried.”

“What’s he talking about?” I said.

She took a deep breath. “According to the book of Genesis, the Garden of Eden was located between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.”

Cowboy finally spoke. “Which is where we are.”

“The general vicinity,” she said.

“But that’s a myth,” I said. “I mean, my grandpa used to preach it, but—”

“Your grandfather was a preacher?” Cowboy interrupted.

“And Grandma the choir director, but the point is—”

“Wow.”

“The point is it’s a fable, an old wives’ tale. It can’t be real.”

“Then it’s doing a pretty good imitation of it,” Chad said, gesturing at our surroundings.

“I was certainly surprised,” Andi said. “For numerous reasons. Not the least of which is the complete lack of archeological evidence.”

Bijan spoke up. “Yes, it is, how do you put it, ‘well hidden.’”

I looked at the campfire. Not that we needed it, the light and temperature were perfect. But it was a nice effect. It would have been nicer if something was actually burning. Instead the flames came from a small hole with rocks set around it so it looked like a campfire.

“Where’s the wood?” I said.

Bijan chuckled. “Oh my, no. Nothing ever dies here. And nothing is ever allowed to be destroyed.”

“And the fire?”

“Comes from a thermal vent. There are several such fires scattered around the garden, here.” He motioned up to the sky . . . which was actually rock, fifty or so feet above our heads. “The entire garden, it is lit by the vent’s reflection, and heated to this perfect temperature.

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