The Morningstar Brigade

Chapter 57

XXXXXVII

URIEL

Day Nine. Four Days Remain.

The Chariot of Fire, Morningstar Keep

"I hate to ask, but do you know how to drive this thing?" Uriel asked from the passenger's seat, looking over at Jonathan nervously as the Shepherd frantically flipped various switches and levers.

A bead of sweat rolled down Jonathan's forehead as his finger hovered between a red button and a blue button, his eyes dodging back and forth between the two. "Yeah. Yeah, totally," he muttered, tugging at his hair. "Hey, completely unrelated question: Do you prefer red or blue?"

"Blue, I guess?" Uriel replied. "And you're sure you know what you're doing?"

Jonathan shut his eyes closed and jammed the blue button. He fearfully opened one eye after a moment and then breathed a sigh of relief as a gentle engine hum kicked in. "Absolutely."

Uriel strapped into his harness, his fingernails digging into the armrests. "Out of curiousity, what would have happened if that blue button wasn't the right one?"

"Oh, you know, nothing serious," Jonathan said, waving away concern. "It might have accidentally closed an engine valve that needs to stay open to keep this thing from turning into a big ball of fire, but it's probably best not to dwell on that." He leaned back in his seat and put his hands gingerly on the steering wheel. "Driving this thing is easy. Like riding a bike."

"Have you ever ridden a bike?" Uriel asked cautiously. "I've only ever seen them in the museums."

Jonathan chuckled uncomfortably. "Well, no. But Solomon showed me a picture once and it looked pretty easy." He turned around and opened the small window linking the Chariot's two-person cab to the armored rear. "How's everything going back there?"

"Hey, so there's a little man sitting next to me wearing a white jumpsuit and a gas mask. Is he supposed to be here?" Isaac asked, popping his head into the window. "I don't really mind him, it's just that he keeps staring at me. Like he's silently judging me." He shivered. "He reminds me of my dad, actually."

"Isaac, did you pay attention to anything I taught you in class?" Jonathan said with a groan. "That's one of the Gardeners, a caretaker of the Tree of Life. It is his sacred duty to accompany us as we transport the Fruit of Life and ensure that it is not misused."

Isaac nodded, feigning understanding. "Right. Got it. And the gas mask and the silent treatment?"

"Gardeners take a vow to renounce all of their senses," Jonathan continued. "They believe that humanity is inherently corrupted through interaction with an impure world, making it incapable of caring for the Tree. In order to remain untainted, they deprieve their bodies of as much sensory input as possible and instead perceive the world through Breath. Or so they claim," Jonathan explained.

Kat's head popped into the window, quickly shoving Isaac out of the way. "We're all set back here, Jonathan. The Fruit is in its containment unit and we're all strapped in."

"Then it's time we got started. Just give the window a tap if you've got any problems," Jonathan said, sliding the window closed and turning back to his instruments. After hurriedly mashing another series of buttons, he at last lowered his feet to the Chariot's pedals and lightly pressed on the accelerator. The vehicle offered a satisfactory purr in response. "I could get used to this," Jonathan murmured happily.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but we're still in the middle of a glorified warehouse," Uriel said, staring at the solid brick wall in front of them. "How exactly are we going to get-"