The First Dragon(53)

He was drawing with light, in the air.

A bright point of energy was emanating from his right index finger, and everywhere he touched, the light remained. There were squat, square buildings, but also majestic, soaring towers; and every inch of the miniature city glowed with the light from his touch.

“This is my next project,” he said, turning around and sliding off the stool. “I thought I’d add a few things while I waited for you.”

“You . . . have been waiting for us?” Rose exclaimed. “Are you . . .”

“My name is Enoch, the Maker,” he said simply, “and I have been waiting for you to arrive for a very long time.”





Chapter SIXTEEN


The Archons



After the initial astonishment at Enoch’s statement passed, Rose regained enough of her composure to ask him how it was he knew to expect them.

“I was told,” he said, folding his arms behind him and looking at them as if he’d actually said something useful.

“If he pulls a cream-colored envelope out of his pocket,” said Laura Glue, “I think I might throw up.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Fred.

“We’ve come a long way to find you,” Edmund said, trying to change the subject, but Enoch wasn’t listening. He had stepped closer to examine Laura Glue’s wings.

“These are constructs, are they not?” he asked. “Used for flight, but not a part of you.”

“Yes,” the Valkyrie answered. “They were made for me.”

“But yours are your own,” he said, turning to Madoc. “Intriguing.”

Rose was about to ask another question when something she caught out of the corner of her eye distracted her. It was a column of swirling clouds, like an inverted tornado, far off in the distance. “It looks like the Frontier that separated the Archipelago from the Summer Country,” she said, pointing at the clouds.





“There. . . . Watch, as it turns to twilight.”



Enoch looked at her in surprise. “Interesting,” he said. “Few people can actually see the Barrier, and most of those see angels carrying flaming swords, the way the Adam claimed to. How unusual that you can see it for what it really is.”

“Is that . . . ?” Charles asked, swallowing hard. “Is that the Garden of Eden?”

Enoch smiled wryly and shrugged. “It may be. The Barrier has been there since long before my time. Not many still live who remember the time of the Adam and the Eve, but one does. It may be possible for you to meet him. We shall see.”

Edmund rubbed his chin, thinking. “You keep mentioning ‘the Adam,’ ” he said to Enoch.

The Maker looked at Edmund, not understanding, then he realized what the young man was asking.

“It was his calling, not his name,” Enoch explained. “No one living knows what his true name was—and I doubt that after what occurred with his sons, he ever shared his true name with anyone else, ever again.”

“What does ‘the Adam’ mean?” asked Rose.

“As I said, it was his calling,” said Enoch. He lowered his head, struggling to find the right words. “In the language of the Host, it means . . . purpose? Yes, that’s it. To me, the Adam meant to have purpose in the world.”

“That makes sense,” Quixote said, nodding. “Given that he was the first man.”

“But he wasn’t,” Enoch said quickly. “There were men and women here for thousands of years before he came, as there are many peoples here who have cultures and history far beyond my own. He was simply the first man with purpose. Regardless, it was his calling that mattered then, not his name. Names can be changed.”

“My father has changed his name several times in his life,” said Rose, taking Madoc by the arm.

“That would mean,” said Enoch, “that either you are a great Namer, or you have not yet been completely made, and thus cannot be Named—not completely.”

“We have come here seeking a Maker,” said Rose. “And possibly a Namer as well.”

Enoch nodded. “I know. He told us to expect you—or at least, to expect someone—who would be seeking him.”

Charles stepped forward, eyes flashing with anticipation. “Someone else told you to expect us? But aren’t you the Architect?”

Enoch blinked. “Is that a name?” He shook his head. “He never spoke that word. But he told us he had chosen to Name himself, and he was called Telemachus.”

Rose’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, and she turned to the others. It hadn’t occurred to any of them that Telemachus, who had been manipulating events in time to keep them moving forward, might actually be the very being they were seeking.