The Tree of Life (Lost Civilizations: 3) by Vaughn Heppner Page A

“What would you want in return?”
    “I want to speak with you as equals. I wish to learn Tarag’s goals, and your own as well.”
    Mimir laughed. “You already know our goals.
    “Maybe,” Joash said.
    “Hm. You wish to probe our weaknesses, is that it?”
    “Yes,” Joash said. “But why should you fear that? I’m in your clutches, and I’m just a man.”
    “Ah,” Mimir said. “We both know you’re a Seraph.”
    Joash felt lightheaded again, because he knew the first step of his plan was going to work.
    “I agree to the trade,” Mimir said. “Here is the condition. We’ll soon search for something. If you’re the first to find what we search for, then you must bring it to me. Agreed?”
    “What will we be searching for?”
    “No,” Mimir said, “I not ready to tell you. Let me assure you, on my word of valor, that there is much you can learn from me that will be of use to you—if you should ever free yourself.”
    Joash knew that giants held valor as the supreme virtue. The word of valor was like a man’s word of honor.
    “Why are you willing to make this trade?” Joash asked.
    Mimir smiled slyly. “I’m a Nephilim. Since we’re being honest, my honest reason is that I’m cleverer than you are, and have vastly more experience in these sorts of trades. I have more to gain than you do. Your folly is in thinking otherwise.”
    “Then I may carry my bedding?”
    Mimir shrugged.
    Joash worked the bedding onto his back.
    “We’ll march fast in order to catch up with the others,” Mimir said. “Remember, you must act submissively when we are in the company of the others.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m a man of my word.”
    “Yes,” Mimir whispered, so softly that Joash didn’t hear. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Chapter Five
    Ultimatum

    Then Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said, “We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.”
    But the men who had gone up with him said, “We can’t attack those people; they are stronger than we are.”
    -- Numbers 13:30, 31

    Adah sat before a mirror in her room, one she shared with Amery and Zillith. Fortunately, they had gone to market to buy fresh potatoes. It was a small room, with three beds shoved together, a clothes stand, water basin and a presently open window. Market sounds drifted through, a loud-voiced woman’s shrill cry about her sweet onions.
    The mirror was propped against a tiny table. It wasn’t a true mirror as they made in Poseidonis, but a highly polished piece of bronze. It worked, that was the point.
    Adah applied rouge to her lips. She had already combed her hair, adding pins to a piled style. She pressed her lips together, studying the polished sheet of bronze, the makeshift mirror.
    It would have been best if they could have sailed to a port and traveled inland to Elon. There, Lord Uriah could have snapped his fingers and gained the needed warriors. Sailing time, however, had dictated otherwise. Lord Uriah and Zillith were certain they’d only need two weeks to recruit a band in Carthalo. Adah was dubious. First, one needed criers. Then one needed willing warriors searching for a captain to serve. In just two weeks, they were supposed to build a band of warriors hardy enough to march for Eden. The fabled Garden was somewhere near Arkite Land, or near the Snow Leopard Tribe there. In a song or story, the swift recruitment would work, but in the real world….
    The recruitment so far had not proven out Lord Uriah’s faith. During these last few days, Adah had come to understand better Lord Uriah’s plan. The Patriarch hoped to hire Elonite nobles and their retinues, warriors presently under hire to Carthalo or under hire to the city’s rich. Lord Uriah had spoken with several highly ranked Elonites, and only one had joined him. The rest said they must honor their mercenary contracts or forfeit their dignity.
    Adah rubbed her cheek, checked the result and began to wriggle into