And how many others suffered a similar fate? Tzadok was gone, Shimon was gone. The enemy had attacked the known gathering places of the prophets. Had they struck Beit El? It was one thing to kill prophets in the remote wilderness, but had they become so bold as to strike in the middle of that city? What about Yosef and Raphael? Were they even still alive?
I thought about Eliyahu—pursued more than any of us. I’d never seen drought myself, but the elders of Levonah spoke of its terrible suffering. How many dry seasons would it take for the people to stand up to the tyranny of Queen Izevel?
Then Dahlia’s face rose in my mind, tight russet curls clustered around her smiling hazel eyes. Would she already be married by the time I came out of hiding, those curls forever tucked under a scarf in the way of married women?
As the sky darkened, the number of people on the road continued to thin. The nearly full moon rose above the horizon as we reached the hills ringing Shomron. Still silent, my master pointed toward a small path that turned off the road and wound through a sloping valley. We pressed on through fields and clumps of trees until the moon was directly overhead and we reached an orchard on a steeply terraced hillside. Saplings leaned at odd angles and the scent of freshly dug soil hung in the air. The hillside rose to a cliff above us.
The trail swung to the right at the base of the hill, and Uriel paused before the first terrace. I couldn’t see any markings, but my master found what he was searching for. He climbed upward, feet crunching in the dried earth. We wove back and forth across the terraces, climbing steadily higher, until we reached an old olive tree, its roots wrapped around a boulder at the base of a cliff. Uriel stepped behind it, disappearing from view. I followed, slipping sideways through a crack in the cliff wall.
Darkness engulfed us. I crept forward, my fingers brushing the stone walls that squeezed steadily inward. Without warning, I stumbled, nearly falling. The echo of my footsteps reverberated in an open space.
A flame emerged in the distance. It grew from an orange glow to a yellow point, revealing itself as a lamp. A man with a short gray beard smiled when he saw Uriel and placed a finger to his lips. The lamp illuminated a three-way junction. The lamp-bearer turned to the right, and we followed.
We descended a broad passageway, the floor smooth underfoot. Every now and then I felt a draft from the side as we passed openings in the darkness. Once I heard snoring and once the sound of deep and slow chanting. I paused to listen to the complex rhythm until our guide waved me forward.
I quickly lost track of direction. I’d never been in so intricate a cave before, with so many caverns and passageways. Ovadia was fortunate to find such a place to hide the prophets. Was this another one of those caves carved out in the time of Gidon?
Our guide stepped into an empty chamber, and Uriel had to duck to avoid striking his head on the cavern roof. The lamp bearer touched the flame of his lamp to another that sat in a niche cut into the wall, igniting it. Then he bowed to Uriel and stepped back into the darkness.
I surveyed the chamber in the wavering light: my new home. The events of a week had uprooted everything I knew. There would be no sunshine in the cave, no Yonaton, no Dahlia. Yet I was still alive, which was more than could be said for Shimon or Tzadok.
Drained from the journey, I laid out my sleeping mat. Uriel knelt down in front of the lamp and contemplated the flame with unblinking eyes.
Despite my exhaustion, I dared to break the silence we’d maintained since the roadblock. “What do you see, Master?”
“All things above are reflected below. So it is with the Lamp of Darkness, reflected in the flame.”
“You see darkness in the flame?”
“Look closely at the center. Darkness surrounds the wick, consuming it, emitting no light.”
I moved closer to examine the flame.
“That is the shadow of the lamp of darkness. Beneath the blackness is a thin layer of sapphire, the color of the Throne of Glory, on which the Holy One sits. The darkness appears greater than the blue, but does not dim its brilliance.”
The flame filled my vision. At first, the blue jumped and faded, but as I concentrated, it grew in depth and radiance. “Master, the darkness makes the blue seem even brighter.”
“Indeed. So it is with our world. No amount of darkness can destroy the light, no matter how deep the darkness grows.”
Uriel sighed. “The order of the world has flipped. Once, light dwelled above and shadows filled the caves. Now darkness will reign over the land and light will retreat underground.”
My master turned away from the lamp to face me and fire reflected in his bright eyes.
“It appears, Lev ben Yochanan HaKohen, we have the time to begin your education after
all.”
Dear Reader,
As an avid reader myself, I treasure the feeling of connection with an author that I get from reading a book. But now that I’m an author, I’m struck by the one-sided nature of that relationship: all readers get a glimpse into the mind of the author, but rarely does the author hear back from the readers. With your help, I’d like to rectify this.
The subject matter of this book is a real passion of mine. In fact, it was the vision of one day being able to share this passion with readers such as yourself that drove me through the six years of writing The Lamp of Darkness.
I’d love it if you would take a moment and share a bit of yourself with me as well. I’m so curious to learn who my readers are, where they live, what they do, and what their passions are. I’m also constantly trying to improve my writing, so it would be a great help to me to know what you liked about the book and what you didn’t. If you’re really willing to engage, please include a picture of yourself holding the book (or your digital device loaded to the book cover). Just note, I intend to post some pictures online, so let me know if you want yours private (and nothing explicit please). My personal email is Dave@TheAgeofProphecy.com, and it’s my aim to respond to all who contact me.
Personally, when curious about a new book, the first thing I do is check out reader reviews, normally on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Until recently, I almost never left reviews myself, but then I realized that the more I participate, the more I can help other readers, and the better the entire system works. Before you move on, please take a moment to leave a review online so that others can benefit from your insights as well.
It has been a privilege to share this journey with you.
P.S. Those of you hungry for more will find an ever-growing library of resources at TheAgeofProphecy.com. Sign up for the newsletter to receive advance notice of new materials, specials, or the next book release. Keep reading for a preview of Book 2, The Key of Rain.
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Glossary
Ahav: Also known as Ahab.
Binyamin: Also known as Benjamin.
Bnei Nevi’im: Literally the children of the prophets, figuratively their students.
Eliyahu: Also known as Elijah.
Emek HaAsefa: Literally, the valley of gathering. A fictional location.
Eved: Slave.
Halil: A straight flute.
