“It takes time, my Queen, to uproot a people’s connection to their god.”

“It is Eliyahu. And this drought.”

“The people know nothing of Eliyahu, my Queen, nor do they yet realize there’s a drought. Once they do, they will have all the more reason to turn against their prophets.”

“Or perhaps they will see Eliyahu as stronger than Baal?”

The priest glared at Izevel, eyes smoldering.

“What of the hunt? You claimed your servants have never failed.”

“They are Baal’s servants, not mine. And they will succeed. I told you, I have seen Eliyahu’s future in the stars.”

Izevel sat back with a snarl. “Yet, for now, the people still resist.”

“Yes, my Queen, but I have a plan.”

She leaned forward. “A plan? What will you do?”

“If her Majesty will be guided by me, then before the moon wanes, half the stubborn ones in Shomron will bend their knees before Baal.”

Pale light filled the cave when I woke the next morning. Shimon and Yonaton still slept beside me, but Uriel’s mat lay empty. My eyes scanned the back of the cave—Balaam’s saddlebags were gone. My heart leapt as I pulled my tunic over my head.

Yonaton stirred. “Where are you going?”

“Master Uriel’s gone.”

Yonaton sat up. “His sleeping mat is still here.”

“The saddlebags are missing.”

“So?”

Why didn’t Yonaton understand? “So Master Uriel would take them only if he intended to travel.”

“Without us?” Comprehension filled Yonaton’s eyes, and he rose to his feet.

Uriel took the saddlebags and left without waking us, without even taking his cloak, which Yonaton used as a sleeping mat. Had he decided to journey alone so as not to endanger us? And if my master were headed for a place of safety, would he have left so many of his possessions behind? Uriel said last night that it was better to be struck down than hide. Was he riding now toward a final meeting with Izevel’s soldiers? Would he even raise his staff to defend himself this time?

We ran down toward the spring where we left Balaam the night before. From a distance, we saw Uriel tying the saddlebags into place. We weren’t too late.

“Master,” I called, “Don’t go!”

Uriel stopped his work. “Lower your voice, Lev. If you are seen with me—”

“Master, Ovadia can protect you.”

“I have given much thought to Ovadia’s plan, Lev.”

“Ovadia made me swear to bring you to Dotan.”

Uriel lifted an eyebrow at this. “Ovadia is very devoted.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “As are you.”

Resignation filled the prophet’s eyes. “It’s not just that, Master. The people need you alive.”

“I can do little for the people hidden in a cave, Lev.”

“But this war won’t last forever.”

“Not forever, no. But Eliyahu has not attacked with iron chariots. He brought a drought—it may be years until its end.”

“You must live. Ovadia says you can save the people.”

“Where is the salvation in hiding?”

“When it’s over,” I urged. “Ovadia said it might take an Eliyahu to defeat Izevel, but we’ll need you to heal the people.”

Pity curled his eyebrows. “Ovadia is mistaken. He has wisdom, but is still young. He has not seen what I have.”

“Which is what, Master?”

“The Holy One always creates the remedy before bringing the malady, though it remains hidden until its proper time. The nation will not be rebuilt by an old man crawling out of a hole. My time has passed.”

Yonaton broke his silence. “My father taught me that the prophets never lose faith. How can you give up your life, Master?”

Uriel started at the title “Master.” Only Uriel’s servants and disciples called him “Master,” rather than Master Uriel. I’d been calling Uriel master since returning to him months earlier, but this was the first time that Yonaton had declared him so. Uriel peered into Yonaton’s eyes. “Give up my life? Certainly not. My life may be the only thing I have left to offer the people, but I will not hand it over needlessly.”

“But Master,” Yonaton said, “You saddled Balaam and left your sleeping mat behind.”

“That is because I must travel a road that he cannot follow.” Uriel took Balaam’s lead rope and placed it in Yonaton’s hand. “And neither can you. I cannot be your master, Yonaton, not now. There are two pieces of bread and a skin of water in the saddlebag. It should be enough to get you home.”

We both stared dumbly at Uriel. A chill passed through me as the meaning of my master’s words struck my heart. He was sending Yonaton away. Yonaton, who ran an entire day’s journey to warn us, who killed the soldier when I could not.

Yonaton’s eyes dropped to the rope in his hand. “But I want to come with you.”

“I know.” Uriel’s expression softened. “You have a strong heart. I promised you could stay with us as long as you could help. You have done much, but you can do no more. You are not yet of age, and your family is waiting. Your path lies with them now.”

Yonaton’s eyes fell to the ground, and I knew that he would not raise his voice again in protest.

I turned away, not because I still considered his sorrow indecent, but in order to give him the privacy to grieve. I felt grateful for being allowed to continue, though it was Yonaton’s path that led to safety.

Uriel scratched his donkey behind his remaining ear. “Take Balaam for me. He has been my faithful companion but can no longer accompany me.”

The significance of his words hit me. “Does that mean we’re going to Dotan, Master?”

“Yes, to the cave.”