Visions
The Shepherd Book II
A Novel by Jeffrey B. Linn
All rights reserved

Chapter III

She sobbed as she grasped the rough stone.

"Who is your god?" I marveled.

"Why, the Shepherd, of course!" she managed between heaving gasps.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Do you not see?" she replied, seeming perplexed. "I hold him in my arms."

"What will become of her?" I asked the Shepherd, who was yet standing by.

But abruptly she leapt up. "My stone is alive!" she cried out. "Did you hear it?" she implored me with diseased glee. Then she shrieked and ran off into the night, shouting again and again, "My stone! My Lord! My King!"

"Follow her!" directed the Shepherd. "The message continues through her."

So I gave chase, down an uneven path, over boulders and through brambles. She was easy to follow for the screams, which eventually resolved into hoarse croaks. They ceased altogether just as the ground leveled out. A faint glow shone through a hedgerow in the distance, and I noted that the grass was fantastically even, as if each blade had been trimmed by a razor. When I rounded the hedge, I was confronted with a spectacle that defied comprehension.

[ hints | next chapter | previous chapter ]