An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) by Kathleen M. O'Neal Page A

said it.”
    They held each other’s eyes pensively, Rathanial clearly worried and trying suddenly to hide it.
    “Abba, I know I’ve angered you, and I’m sorry. But surely you can see I had no choice.”
    “You should have come here before you contacted Baruch. You’ve placed all of us in a dangerous position. Without the Underground, we’re surely lost. And the best way to destroy the Underground is to get its leader killed.”
    Rathanial nodded tensely, shame on his face. “I just couldn’t see any other way.”
    “What’s done is done. However,” Zadok warned, leaning forward to point a stern finger, “you’d better protect him with every resource you’ve got. If I find you’ve left him open for assassination—”
    “I—I won’t. I’ve guaranteed him the best security I can provide.”
    Zadok slouched roughly in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles, glaring at the far wall to relieve some of his frustration. “Is there anything else you need?”
    “Just one thing.”
    “What is it?”
    “I know it’s a bad time. I know you’re needed here, but you must come and test Tartarus immediately. Before it’s too late and we find he’s the Antimashiah of prophecy. We can’t allow—”
    “That’s another thing. What makes you think he’ll submit to my testing?”
    “Because he must to maintain the faith of his followers. You’re the leader of Gamant civilization and if you challenge him to undergo it, he’ll have to.”
    “Yes, yes,” Zadok murmured exhaustedly. “Pressure might work.” He poured himself another glass of wine and gulped a mouthful, wiping his lips with the cuff of his sleeve. The drink had a strong resinous flavor. “Let me get things settled here. I have to meet Yosef at the space-port and take care of … the funeral. Plus we’ll need to wait for Baruch. Then I’ll go back to Horeb with you.”
    “Thank you,” Rathanial said in desperate gratitude, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thank you, Abba.” He finished his wine quickly and stood, uneasily bending to give Zadok’s cheek a quick kiss before he strode to the door. “I’ll pack my things in preparation for our journey.”
    Zadok nodded tiredly and listened to his heavy steps thudding down the winding maze of corridors.
    Lifting his goblet, he swirled the liquid, watching the delicate maroon waves that washed the pewter. An ache expanded in his chest, as though the strands of destiny tugged tightly around him. He’d known Rathanial for a hundred years, yet he’d never seen him so frightened, so out of control. Perhaps things were worse on Horeb than he’d said. Maybe that’s why he’d desperately summoned Baruch. Still, it enraged Zadok. He puffed a hostile breath and pounded a fist against his leg, trying to analyze the disturbing sequence of events: Horeb had flared into civil war under a new Mashiah who claimed to be the promised Deliverer; Rathanial had been unable to get any messages to him about it; Baruch was risking his neck to try and resolve the planet’s problems; and … Ezarin had been brutally murdered. Were the events connected?
    Images of the terrible shadow returned. Zadok straightened in his chair, skin prickling. “An otherworld eavesdropper? Or maybe just your imagination, you old fool.”
    He leaned his bald head against the gritty surface of the wall and stared longingly at the cinnamon ceiling. He felt as hollow and cold as the cave itself. “Think. The People need you to think.”
    He ran memories through his head trying to correlate disparate events. Gamants had always been in trouble. Legends held that the talent for making enemies went as far back as ancient Earth where their distant ancestors had protected the Old Ways by going into hiding and killing anyone who threatened to expose them. The secret sect that resulted had flourished in ancient Abyssinia and Shoa. But the sect’s safety had dissolved during the first extraterrestrial invasion of Earth. Giclasian