Urizen

So this is heaven, she thought, as she stared up at the endless blue sky. The ground beneath her back was firm, nothing like the clouds upon which angels were said to tread.

She rolled over. The grass was blue. Not Kentucky bluegrass blue. Deep blue, like the ocean. Tiny droplets of dew clung to the blades. Nestled in the grass, a caterpillar was molting. Entranced, Rica watched as a butterfly emerged. It unfurled shimmering turquoise wings on which black markings formed a pattern that bore an uncanny resemblance to a bearded human face.

Rica gasped. Hurriedly, she rose to her knees to pray. The face on the wings of the butterfly was that of God the Father, the same image that graced the wall of the community dining hall at the Church. Every morning for three years, that stern but benevolent face had watched over her as she ate her meals.

Her stomach growled loudly, interrupting her prayers. She clapped her hands over her belly and glanced around to see if anyone had heard. Angels did not eat or drink or have bodily functions. Maybe her spirit had not grown accustomed to its new form yet. If she ignored the sensation of hunger, it would pass.

To get her mind off food, she stood up and began walking. There was a grass covered ridge nearby. She decided to climb it to get a better look at her surroundings. The slope was steep and by the time she reached the top, she was panting. She leaned forward with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

"Father," a voice cried weakly. "Why have you done this to me?"

Startled, Rica glanced up. Towering above her was a wooden cross. Nailed to the cross was a naked young man.

She did not stop to think. With the aid of a jagged piece of rock, she pried the nails from the young man's hands. Then, supporting his weight on her shoulders, she freed his feet. He collapsed on the ground before the cross, gasping as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were closed, and his skin was an unhealthy shade of blue. Fearing the worst, Rica prepared to start CPR, but when she checked his heart beat, she found it strong and regular.

Rica leaned back on her heels and studied the young man. He was nothing like the golden haired, white winged angels in the story books. His hair was dark in color, more blue than black. The crusted blood on his hands and feet was deep purple, and even after he caught his breath, his skin remained cyanotic.

Before her parents joined the Church, Rica used to watch videos and play games like ordinary kids. Though she knew it was sacrilegious, she could not help thinking of the"Wizard of Oz". Heaven was a lot like the Emerald City, except that everything was blue here instead of green. She glanced down at her hands and was only mildly surprised to find that she had taken on a slight but definite bluish tinge.

The young man made a moaning sound and opened his eyes, which were blue with slit like pupils that ran up and down, like the eye of a Siamese cat but darker. "Who are you?" he croaked. "Are you an angel?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, " Rica replied. "This is Heaven, isn't it?"

"Heaven?" He laughed harshly. "No, my lady, this is not Heaven. Perhaps it is Hell" As he hauled himself to a sitting position, the wound on his left wrist start bleeding again. The sight of his own blood seemed to make him faint. He closed his eyes.

"You shouldn't try to move," Rica scolded. She pressed her hand against the oozing wound. As her flesh touched his, an electric spark passed between them.

The blue young man pulled his arm away. "What did you---" His jaw dropped. The wound on his wrist had healed. "Did you do that? How?"

"I--I don't know."

He held out his other arm. "Do it again."

Hesitantly, Rica obeyed. The wound healed at the touch of her fingers, as did the jagged holes in his feet.

"You must be an angel," he murmured. "My name is Oric. What is yours?"

"Rica. Short for America. My family name is White, but we don't use family names at the Church." The Church. She recalled the fire in the kitchen and the sound of children screaming. The memory made her shiver.

"You are trembling, my lady. Are you cold?"

"Not cold. Just---" She did not know what she was feeling. Could this be a dream? If so, did that mean that the fire was part of a dream, too?

"I have never seen hair like yours," Oric said. "So soft, like spun sugar. And your skin is hardly blue at all. More brown, like the color of tree trunks in the old days, before--" He bit his lower lip. "You are not from this world, are you? Where do you come from? How did you get here?"

"I--I don't know. I was making lunch for the kids when someone threw a tear gas canister into the kitchen. It must have been the police. The canister made a spark, and the stove blew up. It was hot, so hot. Then I was flying through the air. I think--I think I must have died." She sobbed quietly for a few minutes. "This can't be Hell." She sniffed. "I've been good. I say my prayers every day and read my Bible. See, it's right here." She fished around in the pocket of her apron for the small leather bound volume. However, the book which she found was not her Bible. Instead, the spine was engraved with a single word, Urizen.

Oric's catlike eyes widened then narrowed. "Urizen. My grandfather. He is the one who nailed me to that cross."

"Your grandfather? Why?"

"For the greater good, he claimed."

"What good can come from nailing someone to a cross? Unless--Are you Jesus?"

"Jesus? Never heard the name."

"Are you a carpenter?"

At this he laughed. "A carpenter?" He showed her his hands. They were soft and smooth. "Until today, I was a prince of this realm. Now I am outcast. If not for you, I would be dead." He opened the book and began to read. "'Lo, a shadow of horror is risen in eternity...' These are not the words of Urizen. Not the one I know." He turned to the title page. "'The Book of Urizen, by William Blake.' Who is William Blake?"

"A poet, I think. He wrote something about a tiger. "

He frowned. "You are carrying one of his books, but you do not know who he is?"

"I don't know where the book came from. I've never seen it before."

He turned the page and read aloud: "'Lo! I unfold my darkness, and on this rock place with strong hand the Book of eternal brass, written in my solitude: Laws of peace, of love, of unity, of pity, compassion, forgiveness. Let each chose one habitation, his ancient infinite mansion, one command, one joy, one desire, one curse, one weight one measure, one King, one God, one Law.' The words sound much like something my grandfather would say. Except for the part about 'one law'. He has one thousand laws, which are carved on stone tablets, perched high atop the city of Kirk."

"Kirk? Is that your home?"

The young man bowed his head. "I no longer have a home."

Rica tried to imagine what it would feel like to be nailed to a cross by one's own grandfather. Poor Oric. Compared to what he had suffered, being burned in a kitchen fire was nothing. She was trying to think of something comforting to say, when they were interrupted by the sound of falling rocks. Someone was climbing up the far side of the ridge.

"Stay where you are," Oric whispered. He dove for cover behind some bushes.

Rica was too startled to move. Seconds later, she found herself eye to eye with another blue skinned man, this one a little older than Oric, with thinning hair and a scraggly beard. He wore armor and carried a sword and a bow and arrows.

The soldier was so surprised to see Rica that he did not notice that the cross was empty, which gave Oric plenty time to sneak up behind him and knock him unconscious with a rock.

"That was fortunate." Oric stripped the soldier of his clothes. He dressed quickly and armed himself. Then, he tied the soldier to the base of the cross. 'We had best hurry. When this guard fails to return, Urizen will send others."

"Where are we going?" Rica called. . For a man who had narrowly escaped death from crucifixion, he moved quickly. She had to struggle to keep up with him

"Somewhere far away from Kirk," was his terse reply.

A few miles later, he finally agreed to a short rest. Rica's stomach was now churning. "Do people in this world eat?"

He seemed amused by the question. "Everyone eats. Oh, I see. You are hungry. I suppose I should catch something for supper, before it gets dark. Wait here." He disappeared into the trees.

While waiting for him, Rica decided to start a fire. She had a box of matches--the one she used to light the gas stove-- in her apron pocket, along with a pen, a few coins, and the strange little book. She gathered twigs, dry leaves and a few larger, fallen branches. After she had a small blaze going, she sat down and began to read at random.

"They named the child Orc; he grew fed with milk of Enitharmon... They took Orc to the top of a mountain. O how Enitharmon wept! They chained his young limbs to the rock with the Chain of Jealousy beneath Urizen's dreadful shadow---"

"Good," Oric exclaimed as he entered the clearing, carrying a small animal that looked like a cross between a rabbit and a raccoon. "You have started a fire." Quickly, he gutted and skinned the creature, then he speared it on a stick, which he propped over the flames.

Rica's religion forbade the eating of flesh. However, she was hungry enough to eat her own foot. And for all she knew, this was a dream, in which case it was no sin to devour an imaginary creature.

"What about your parents?" she asked Oric, as he turned the spit over the fire. "Didn't they object when your grandfather decided to have you killed."

"My mother died in childbirth. No one knows who my father is. Urizen is all the family I have---" He clenched his jaw.

On a hunch, she asked "What was your mother's name? Was it Enitharmon?"

"Enitharmon? No, but you are close. She was called Tharmon. She was Urizen's only child. According to all reports, he loved her dearly, and her death was a terrible blow to him." His expression darkened. "After she died, he started writing his laws."

"Laws? What kind of laws?"

"Laws about everything. He has been working on them for years. The first ones were basic rules. 'Do not kill.' 'Do not tell lies.' 'Do not steal." Then he started writing laws about fornication and blasphemy. Later, he started writing about the clothes people should wear and the color of their skin."

"The color of people's skin," she echoed. "You mean, he decided that people with certain color skin were inferior to others?"

"Certainly not. We are all equal in eyes of God. That is Law number 12. Though Urizen is more equal than most. " His laughter sounded forced. "About ten years ago, he decided that people should be blue, like the heavens. So he wrote a law. Number 297, I think. I get them confused. Since then, everyone in Kirk has had blue skin and hair."

"Are you saying that you dye your skin blue?"

"No, my skin is this color naturally. Because Urizen decreed it."

Now she was totally confused. "Just because a person writes a law saying 'Everyone will have blue skin' that doesn't make it happen."

"It does if the person writing the laws is my grandfather. Do not ask me how he does it. It is a power which only he possesses. Do you have a coin?"

"Huh?"

He repeated the question.

Rica reached into her pocket and found a quarter.

He examined it. "I have never seen a coin such as this." He tossed it into the air. It landed heads. He tossed it again and again. Each time it came up heads. "When I was a boy, if you tossed a coin , it would come up heads half the time and tails the other half. But a few years ago, Urizen decided that he did not like having his face against the ground--his image is on all the coins of Kirk--so he decreed that any coin that was dropped or tossed would always come up heads. Supper is done. Watch your fingers, it is hot."

They ate in silence. Afterwards, they drank water from a stream. By this time, the sun had set. It was now too dark to travel, so Oric agreed that they would rest for the night. He spread the soldier's cloak on the damp earth so that both of them could sleep on it.

"Can I ask you a question?" Oric asked after they were settled down for the night.

"Go ahead."

"You said you were from another land. How did you know my mother's name?"

Rica told him about the book, including the part about his own crucifixion.

Oric propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down at her in wonder. "You appear from nowhere, a woman with brown skin and hair like soft wool, carrying a book that records events that had not yet occurred when the book was written. Are you sure you are not an angel?"

"I'm not sure of anything."

"Tell me about yourself and your world."

She told him about the Church, including their recent troubles with the law. Social workers had demanded that the children be removed because they were not getting proper schooling or health care. Their parents had refused, so the police were called in."They surrounded the building. At first we were terrified, but days passed and nothing happened. We got used to having them out there. It meant no one could go outside, but we had food enough for a month. They cut the electricity and the water, but we had plenty of bottled water and the stoves were all propane---" Her voice broke.

He gave her hand a squeeze. "You do not have to continue if the memories are too painful."

"No, it's OK. I was in the kitchen, feeding the kids. I had just lit the stove so I could start working on the evening meal. There was a rifle shot. The bullet broke the window . Someone tossed a tear gas canister into the kitchen. It had government markings on it. I guess it was the police trying to force us out. The stove exploded and the blast threw me out the window. The last thing I remember is hitting the ground outside and the sound of kids screaming as they burned---" She started to cry.

Oric put his arms around her. She fell asleep sobbing with her head on his shoulder.

The next morning, they resumed their journey. When Rica asked where they were going, Oric replied only "Away from Urizen."

"Is there a city nearby?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "No one knows what lies outside the kingdom of Kirk."

"Why not?"

Because no one ever leaves Kirk."

There was an old back and white TV show that Rica used to watch late at night. The Twilight Zone. This world was beginning to remind her of it.

"It was not always this way," Oric continued. "When I was a small child, there were ambassadors from other kingdoms and traveling bards and merchants who brought exotic animals and strange foods to sell in the market." He frowned. "That all ended when I was five. Urizen closed the gates of the city to visitors, then he wrote law number 547. "Though shalt not stray into the Wilderness." Since then, no one from outside has visited our kingdom, and none of the citizens have traveled beyond the boundaries of Kirk."

"Aren't there books in Kirk? Some of them must describe the world outside."

"Urizen outlawed them. They disappeared overnight."

"It's only been--what?---fifteen years?"

"Twelve. I am sixteen years old."

Funny, he seemed older. "Twelve years isn't all that long. There must be people in Kirk who remember what it was like to travel. Couldn't they tell you what's outside your kingdom?"

"They have all forgotten. " He sighed. "Sometimes I think I only dreamed about the visitors. How could my memories be right and everyone else be wrong?"

"It sounds to me like you're the only sane person left in Kirk. Is it OK if I ask why your grandfather decided to have you crucified?"

"I broke the law."

"Which law?"

"Urizen's law."

"You said he had a thousand laws. Which law did you break?"

"You do not understand. It does not matter which law was broken. No one breaks Urizen's laws.It is impossible. Once the words are carved in stone, they become reality."

Now she was really confused. "I don't get it. If no one can break Urizen's law, then how did you do it?"

He frowned. "That is a good question. "

"And if it's impossible for people to leave Kirk, then why are we here?"

"Another good question. Maybe we are still in Kirk. Maybe there is nothing but Kirk, and people who try to leave end up walking in circles forever." He looked very glum.

Rica tried to cheer him up. "We know there must be a world outside Kirk, because I come from somewhere else."

"Unless you are a figment of my imagination. Oww! Why did you do that?"

"Can a figment pinch you like that? I'm real. As real a you." Maybe even more real, she thought. What if Oric was the dream? The thought made her sad. She was starting to like him.

After that, they walked in silence, and Rica had a chance to notice things. Like the fact that the grass was becoming a little less blue and a little more green. When they stopped for lunch beside a stream, she thought she caught a glimpse of a yellow butterfly out of the corner of her eye, though when she turned to look it was gone. These and other subtle changes in the landscape made her suspect that they were indeed outside Kirk. Or very close to its border.

She said nothing of her suspicions, but she decided to conduct a test. From time to time, she would take out a quarter and toss it. All day it came up heads. However, as they were making camp for the night, the coin landed tails up.

She showed the coin to Oric. His eyes widened then narrowed. "It is a good thing Urizen is not here. He would have you crucified, too."

Rica shook her head in exasperation. "Don't you get it? Urizen's magic only works in Kirk. That's why he won't let anyone leave. The further away we get, the weaker his power becomes. Your skin is already less blue. In another couple of days, you'll be back to your normal color. So will the grass. So will the flowers. You'll be able to spit and swear and fornicate and do all the other things Urizen says you can't do." She blushed when she realized what she had just said. Would he read it as an invitation? Rica had never kissed a boy, much less had sex with one.

To her relief, Oric made no reply. Instead, he disappeared into the forest to hunt for supper. Rica passed the time building a fire. It was not really cold, but she found the light comforting. And the red color of the flames was a nice change after all that blue. Would Urizen get around to changing the color of fire one day? Why this preoccupation with the color blue?

And why was not she afraid of fire? After what had happened, she should have been terrified by it. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could still feel the heat on her back and hear the deafening blast of the explosion. What an awful accident. She wondered how many children were burned and how many died. The memory of their screams brought tears to her eyes.

The preacher was always saying that God's ways were mysterious, but why did He fill the kitchen with children and then have the police throw a tear gas canister right next to a gas stove? Was it a test? If she had managed to reach the canister in time, would He have saved them? Or maybe the atheists were right. Maybe there was no God, and life was just a joke. Or a dream.

Such thoughts made her feel very small and very lonely. She was relieved when Oric returned with their supper. They had roasted fish that night and some kind of nut that had a soft texture. For desert, there were sweet, ripe berries. The fish could have used some salt, but other than that, it was one of the best meals Rica had ever eaten.

"Something puzzles me," Oric remarked as they finished the berries. "As I was walking through the woods, I thought to myself 'Too bad there is not a hesternut tree nearby. This is the season for hesternuts.' The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the biggest hesternut tree I have ever seen. I gathered some nuts and continued on my way. Next, I started thinking about berries."

"And you saw a berry bush?"

"Loaded with fruit. It was almost dark by then, and I had not come across any game. 'Too bad there is no pond nearby' I said aloud. I blinked, and there was a pond. 'Oh dear,' I said. ' I forgot my fishing rod. Would a couple of plump fish jump out of the water and into this sack?' That was how I got tonight's supper."

"You're like Urizen!." She exclaimed.

Oric glowered. "How dare you say something like that? My grandfather is mad. A cruel, mad tyrant."

"I didn't mean it that way. What I should have said is you've got his power to change things."

He sighed. "If I have inherited his power, maybe I have inherited his insanity, as well."

"You seem perfectly sane to me."

"A figment of my imagination would say that."

"I already told you---Look, you only have a quarter of his genes. Blood," she corrected, realizing that people in this world might have no idea what genes were. "Odds are, even if his madness is hereditary, you don't have it."

This only made him look more glum. "There is something I have never told anyone."

"Go on."

" No one in the palace would speak of it aloud, and later they seemed to forget. But when I was very young I heard the whispers. The reason I had no father was because my grandfather was also my father."

"You mean--"

"---Urizen committed incest with his own daughter."

"Oh."

Neither spoke for a long time. The fire burned down to embers. Though the sun had set, the temperature was still perfect, not too cold and not too hot. Was this Urizen's doing or Oric's?

Finally, Rica broke the silence with a question that had been puzzling her. "Why does Urizen want everything to be blue?"

"It was my mother's favorite color."

So much for her attempt to change the subject. "Now that you know the truth about your power, what are you going to do?"

He yawned. "I am going to get a good night's sleep and think about it in the morning."

Rica did not go to sleep right away. She remembered the book. It had described many of the things which had happened up until now. Maybe it would give her some clue about the future. Moving quietly so that she would not disturb Oric, she built up the fire again, so that she could read by its light.

To her surprise, she saw that the lettering on the spine of the little book had changed. Where it used to read "Urizen" it now read "America". Her name. With trembling fingers, she opened the book and began reading. "The shadowy daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc." Could the shadowy daughter be her? And red Orc--now that the blue was fading, Oric was beginning to look a little bit like an American Indian, with ruddy skin and black hair.

She continued reading. It was at once the story of the American Revolution and Oric's story. She read how he broke his chains and freed the other captives. He confronted his oppressors. "'I am Orc, wreathed round the accursed tree. The times are ended; shadows pass, the morning 'gins to break. The fiery joy, that Urizen perverted to ten commands...that stony law I stamp to dust.'"

She fell asleep pondering these words.

In the morning, when she woke, Oric was packing their few belongings.

"Get up lazy bones. We have a long journey before us."

She yawned and stretched. "Just how far are you planning to go? We're outside Urizen's sphere of power. Isn't that far enough?"

"We are going back. Back to Kirk."

She did not ask him why. The book had already given her the answer.

Strange things began to happen that day. Wherever Oric's feet touched the grass, the blue changed to green. He looked different, too. His skin was copper colored, and his hair and eyes were dark brown, almost black. He still had the slit like pupils, but other than that he looked like a perfectly normal native American.

Rica checked her hands. They had returned to their usual pecan color. She did not have a mirror, but she assumed that the rest of her was back to normal, too. Maybe better than normal. Were her breasts this large before she came to Kirk? Was her waist this narrow? From time to time she caught Oric looking at her in a way that made her blush. Did he think of her as attractive? Had he used his power--unconsciously--to make her even more attractive? It was a disturbing thought. Not the part about him finding her attractive. She was attracted to him, too. It was the thought that he could alter her to suit his tastes that bothered her. No one should have that much power.

Things got even stranger around midmorning. It should have taken two days of hard walking to return to their starting point. However, they had been traveling only a few hours when they came to the ridge where Oric had been crucified.

"It seems we will reach Kirk sooner than I expected," was all Oric said.

A few hills later, they came upon a cottage with a thatched roof. A short, skinny man was outside the house, feeding chickens. He was blue from his balding head down to his bare feet. When he saw Oric and Rica, he hurried inside. Moments later, he reappeared with a tall, brawny middle aged woman wielding a broom. They stared at the travelers as if they were freaks.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded. "What do you want here?" When Oric approached, she raised the broom threateningly. "Stay away from us. We are good law abiding citizens."

"There is no more law," Oric said quietly.

The farm wife glared at the travelers. "No more law! What nonsense!"

The farmer squinted over his wife's shoulder. "You're that prince, aren't you? The one with no father. Demon spawn. I heard they crucified you. What are you doing here?"

"I have come to spread the news. Urizen's Laws have been broken."

"Such talk---Oh my! What's happened to your face, Henry?"

The farmer stared back at his wife. "My face? You should see yourself. You're the same color you used to be all those years ago, before everyone turned blue."

It was true. Their skin had changed from blue to brown in a matter of seconds.

"Law 432." Oric said. "Or is it 433? Broken. Can I borrow your coin, Rica."

She handed him the quarter.

He tossed it. The first time it came up heads. The second time was tails. "There goes another law. See the grass? It is starting to turn green again. Urizen's laws are breaking one by one. If it is not too much trouble, could my companion and I have a drink of water from your well, before we continue our journey to the city?"

"The city? What are you going to do there?" the farm wife asked.

"Spread the news. Urizen rules no more. "

When they left the farm to continue their journey, the old couple followed them, as did many of the people Oric and Rica encountered that morning. At each farm house it was the same. At first, they were met with hostility. Once Oric demonstrated his ability to defy the Laws of Urizen, attitudes quickly changed.

"Finally the tyrant is going to get what's coming to him."

"It's about time. All this blue--I'm sick of blue. I want green."

"Yes, green. And red and yellow."

"The old bastard's done for."

"Death to Urizen! Long live Prince Oric!"

"Long live King Oric!"

At some point, someone must have run ahead to spread the news. As the travelers neared the city, they came upon a group of drunken men and women who were celebrating noisily in the middle of the road. Many were half naked. Some of them were dancing. One couple was making love in a ditch. At the sight of Oric and his followers, they let out a loud cheer.

"Look! It's the Prince!"

"He's here. Prince Oric is here to break the tablets and free us from the tyrant."

"Urizen's dead! The Law's no more!"

"Death to Urizen! Long live Oric!"

"Look what I can do. I can spit." The old man who uttered these words spit on the road. "I haven't been able to do that in years. Not since that bastard in Kirk wrote a law against spitting. Want to hear me fart?"

Rica declined his offer.

"We are going to the city," Oric announced. "To spread the news. Any of you who want to come are welcome."

Those sober enough to walk took him up on the offer. Their party now numbered fifty. They made enough noise for a crowd twice as large.

There were no more hostile farmers after that. People seemed to sense what was happening. Many were waiting beside the road to see the prince pass, and a fair number decided to accompany him. Fifty grew to seventy, then to one hundred.

Now, more than ever, Rica felt as if she was in a dream. Only in a dream could faces change from glum blue to joyous bronze before her eyes. Only in a dream could a man walk across a blue field and leave green grass and golden flowers in his wake. Only in a dream could a blue butterfly alight on a sleeve and change to violet before taking wing again.

"It's magic," people kept repeating. "The prince's magic is stronger than Urizen's."

At first, Oric tried to explain that all he was doing was restoring reality. No one listened. Soon, he stopped bothering.

"There it is." Oric shaded his eyes. "It's Kirk. "

Rica squinted. In the distance she saw a dark blue mountain shrouded in mist topped by a high plateau."Where?"

His hand trembled slightly as he pointed. "On the side of the mountain. The city is carved into the rock. Urizen's fortress is on top." He looked pale. Or was the blue tinge returning to his skin?

Rica gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He returned her smile, but his heart was not in it. The sight of Kirk had awakened a deeply rooted fear.

He was not the only one who felt it. When the shadow of the mountain fell over the travelers, people went silent. Their smiles turned to fearful frowns. One by one, their ruddy coloring was replaced by blue. One by one, they fell back, until Oric and Rica marched alone across a desolate plain where small clumps of blue grass struggled to sink their roots into the rocky soil. Now, when Oric's feet touched the grass, the blades seemed to shrink away, as if they found his touch distasteful. There was no other wildlife on any kind.

"It's so--grim." Rica shivered as a cold wind blew down from the mountain. "Why do people stay here?"

"It is the law." He gazed up at the mountaintop. "Urizen's tablets are up there. Each one is carved with laws. There were almost one hundred tablets when I---I left Kirk. I would not be surprised to find that he has added one or two more in my absence." He sighed. His shoulders slumped forward. "I am tired. Let us rest."

Rica had a premonition. If Oric sat down now, he would not rise again. "It's just a little bit farther. I'll read to you from the book while we walk." The new poem, "America" would help him regain his fighting spirit, she thought. She took out the small leather book volume and opened it at random. The page was blank. She turned one page, then another. Nothing. The words she had read the night before had been erased.

She could not tell Oric. He might interpret it as a bad sign and give up his quest. She would have to make up something. What was that poem she memorized in school? "Tiger, tiger, burning bright...." As she recited from memory, the words came back to her.

The poem seemed to encourage Oric. "I saw a tiger once, when I was a child. It was in a cage. It paced back and forth, never looking at those of us who had come to gawk. It was a sad creature, with mangy fur and cloudy eyes. I did not like seeing it locked up. It did not seem right. I told my nanny that I wanted to buy it and set it free. She told me that if the tiger was set free, it would eat all the children of Kirk, including me. I did not care.

"That night, I dreamed that the tiger slipped out of his cage. He came to me, in my bedroom. His eyes were as bright as two burning coals. 'Thank you,' he said. 'Thanks for what?' I asked. He did not answer. At that moment, I woke up. There was shouting in the street. The tiger had broken free. He must have fled into the wilderness surrounding Kirk, because he was never seen again. I used to wonder if it was my dream that set the tiger free."

"Maybe it was." Rica did not like the thought of walking across a plain that might be inhabited by a tiger. If the beast appeared suddenly, there would be no place to hide. "Hurry up. It will be dark soon."

"So?"

He had a good point. What difference did it make it they arrived in Kirk by daylight or after dark? "It's getting colder."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "I should not have brought you here. It is too dangerous."

She could not help but laugh. "Dangerous? Let me tell you about dangerous. Dangerous is standing in a kitchen with a gas stove, watching someone shoot out the window in order to toss a tear gas canister inside." If only she had been a little bit quicker to act. If only she had moved a little bit faster. "If my land were like yours, I supposed I could have wished the canister away. But in my world, people can't do that. Things are the way they are, and no one, no matter how rich or smart or powerful can make them any different. You're lucky, Oric. You actually have a chance to do some good." Her enthusiasm returned. "Urizen's just one man. Don't let him spook you, Oric. That's how he wins. He makes people think that he has already won, so they don't even try."

Oric's smile looked forced. "Were you a philosopher in your own world?"

"A philosopher? Heavens, no. I already told you. I was an ordinary girl. At least, I was ordinary until I moved into the Church commune with my parents."

"Did the church have rules?"

What was he trying to get at. "Sure, lots of them?"

"Did you believe the rules? All the rules? I am not asking if you followed the rules or gave lip service to them. Did you truly believe what you were told?"

Rica considered the question. "No," she answered finally. "I didn't really believe it. Not all of it, anyway. It was what my parents wanted to do, and I went where they went. I suppose in a year or two, when I was old enough to be on my own, I would have left. Most of the teenagers left."

"You did leave," he corrected. "You left your world and came here."

She had never thought of it that way.

"If an 'ordinary girl' can journey from one world to another," Oric continued. "What is to stop a prince of Kirk from breaking a few laws? Hand me that book. Maybe I will find some words to inspire me."

Before Rica could think of an excuse, Oric snatched the volume from her hands. What would he say when he realized that she had lied to him? Would he be angry? What would he think when he found the pages blank? Would he be frightened?

Oric opened the book at random. He glanced at the page, then did a double take.

Oh no, Rica thought.

Oric looked at her then back to the page. "What an odd little book!" He closed it and handed it back to her. He was smiling. "Hurry up."

Rica had to run to keep up with him. "What's the rush?" The mountain city of Kirk, which had seemed so distant moments before, was now right in front of them.

He did not answer. They were close enough that Rica could make out the individual faces of the citizens of Kirk. Two husky, blue skinned men dressed in armor flanked the only visible gate. Oric headed in the opposite direction. "There is a secret entrance," he explained as he pushed aside some bushes .

Rica peered into the gloomy, narrow passage. "Where does it go?"

"All the way to the top. The laws of chivalry decree that ladies should go first, but in this instance I think we can suspend the rules."

She had never liked small, closed in spaces, and this was worse than most. In some places, she had to turn sideways to proceed. And the effort of climbing all those stairs made her chest burn and the blood pound in her head.

"Just a few more steps to go," Oric said encouragingly.

"Maybe--you should--go on---without--me."

"I need you."

"What for? I'm only---"

"An ordinary girl? You are the angel who saved my life and taught me how to overcome Urizen. Careful now. The last bit of the passage drops down suddenly.

Despite his warning, she stepped forward onto thin air and would have fallen if he had not caught her. He held her close for just a moment. Something brushed her hair. Was it a kiss? Before she could ask, Oric released her and marched forward.

She expected to find that night had fallen while they climbed the secret stairs. Instead, the sun was high overhead. The heat had burned away the clouds. When she peered over the edge of the plateau, she saw a vast city stretching all the way down to the plain. The height made her dizzy. She straightened up and turned. The "plateau " was too perfect to be natural. Spaced at even intervals across the wide, circular platform were enormous engraved stone pillars .

"Just how long were we in that tunnel?"

"Thirty, forty minutes."

"So why is the sun higher than it was when went in?"

"Because I need light in order to write," he replied, his voice matter of fact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a man to tell the sun to rise. He stooped and picked up a piece of shiny, blackish rock. "This is going to take a while. Maybe you ought to get some rest."

She did not realize how sleepy she was, until he said these words. Smothering a yawn, she looked for a good place to lie down. The air had gone from cold to hot. She found a shady spot behind one of the stone pillars and curled up in a ball. Soon she was fast asleep and dreaming. Dreaming about children. Children in a land far away....

She woke briefly, then fell asleep again.

The next day, her eyelids stayed open long enough for one of the aides to notice. The nurse called the doctor, but by the time he arrived, Rica had slipped back into her coma. She did not open her eyes again or move or speak for two more days. Then, on the morning of the third day, she regained full consciousness.

"How--how 'ong?" she attempted to ask. Her lips and tongue felt as if they had swollen to twice their normal size.

"Three months," the nurse replied. "You've been in the hospital, unconscious for three months."

This was no hospital, Rica soon decided. This was hell. The nurses assured her that she was in the burn unit at the county hospital and that she was doing well and would make a full recovery. Rica knew better. She had left Heaven--and Oric--- and fallen into the Inferno.

Noticing her depression, the nurses brought her a television set. For the first few days, Rica ignored it. However, late one afternoon, a familiar face appeared in the television screen. It was the pastor of her parents' church. He and seven other church members were on trial for the deaths of the children. Prosecutors claimed that he and other "cult members" had decided to commit mass suicide by setting fire to their church.

"No," Rica whispered aloud.

The nurse noticed her agitation. "Do you want me to turn it off?"

"No," Rica said again, louder this time. "They have it wrong. I need to tell them what really happened."

"But---"

"Now. Call the reporters . And the police. Do it, or I'll walk out of here."

It was an idle threat. She was too weak to roll over much less get out of bed. However, the nurse brought in a policeman. When Rica demanded reporters, she brought them, too. They appeared so fast that Rica assumed that the press had been camped out at the hospital, waiting for her to talk about what happened in the kitchen that day.

"It wasn't the pastor, " she said. "It was a terrible, tragic mistake. I saw it all. Someone shot out the window. There was flying glass, but no one was seriously hurt. Someone tossed a metal canister through the window. I don't know much about stuff like that, but I don't think it was a bomb. I think it was a tear gas canister. It made some nasty smelling smoke. And a spark. Just a little one, but it ignited the stove. There was an explosion and then everything was on fire. Children were screaming. The blast sent me threw a window, otherwise I would have been burned alive, too."

There. It was done. Rica closed her eyes. She was so tired. Thank God it was over. Now she could rest. Her only regret was that she would never see Kirk again and never find out what happened to Oric. Would he defeat Urizen? Or would his grandfather triumph?

Silly girl, Rica told herself. It was just a dream.

Or was it?

Her eyes flew open. "Who here has studied William Blake?" Three hands rose. "Can anyone tell me if he wrote poems called 'Urizen' and 'America'?""

Many puzzled glances were exchanged, but finally one woman stepped forward. "Yes, he wrote those poems."

"Does Urizen start 'Lo, a shadow of horror is risen in eternity'?"

"That sounds familiar."

"Would you expect to find those poems in a school book? An elementary school book."

The reporter laughed. "Heavens, no. They were tough reading even in college. Would you mind telling me why you are so interested in William Blake?"

Rica was no longer listening. So the poems were real. And if the poems were real, that meant that Kirk and Oric....

Rica woke to the sound of voices shouting accusations. Cautiously, she sat up and peered around the stone tablet which sheltered her from the sun. A tall, broad shouldered man with a snow white beard and long, flowing white hair was staring at the closest pillar with an expression of fury on his lapis blue face. "Who dares to desecrate the tablets? Guards, search for the heretic. I want him captured. Alive if possible."

"Do not bother. I am here." The voice was Oric's. Rica shifted position slightly so she could see him. His complexion was a healthy bronze, except for his hands which were black with charcoal or soot.

"YOU!" Urizen roared.

"Yes, me," Oric replied quietly. "I have finished. I wrote it one hundred and ninety eight times---twice for every tablet, once on the front and once on the back. I was afraid I would run out of graphite, but I managed to get the job down. Your thousand laws are obsolete, grandfather. They have been replaced by the one true law, the law to end all laws."

What on earth was he talking about? Rica glanced up. Something was scrawled on the marble in black, but from this angle she could not decipher it. Cautiously, she rose. This was what she read.

"One law for the lion and ox is oppression."

She had barely finished reading the words when the stone tablet began to crumble. Not just this tablet. All the tablets.

The old man remained frozen for two or three seconds. Then, he started screaming for someone to save the tablets and kill his grandson. His bulging eyes were red with blood, and white foam frothed at his lips. The blue color of his skin rapidly faded to pale brown.

The guards looked confused and worried. When Oric suggested calmly that they go back to their garrison and let him handle "the old man", they seemed relieved.

"Fool!" Urizen shouted when he recovered his voice. "You've unleashed the darkness and brought ruin upon us all."

"No," his grandson replied quietly. "I have unleashed freedom." He stooped and picked up a handful of powder which had once been a stone tablet. As the fine sand ran between his fingers, he said "Every man--and woman," he added, smiling in Rica's direction "Creates the world anew with every breath, and each of those worlds is bigger than the whole. Unless the creator tries to make the whole world his, in which case it becomes less." With the last word, he tossed a few grains of dust into the air. Before they reached the ground, the old man groaned.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Saving your soul, I hope. If that is too far gone, then saving Kirk from your madness." He offered his hand. "Grandfather. Father."

Urizen cringed "No."

"Yes. Maybe. It is all the same in the end."

The older man backed away from the younger. "No," he kept repeating. "No, no, no." Suddenly, without warning, he turned and leapt from the platform. The drop was so far that they did not hear his body strike the ground.

Oric stared over the edge. Though the man who had just died had tried to have him killed, he looked heart broken.

Rica crept forward. She took one of Oric's hands between hers. "It's for the best. "

He did not answer.

To distract him, she said " A law to end all laws. That's good. When did you think it up?"

"Think it up?" He appeared confused. "It is not my idea. I borrowed it from your book. When we were approaching the city, I opened it at random. The words were staring up at me, almost as if they had been written for me."

"But the last time I looked the pages were blank!"

"You read a poem about a tiger."

"I pretended to read. I didn't want to discourage you by letting you know the book was empty."

"Discourage me? You are the one who gave me the courage to fight! " With his free hand, he stroked her hair. "Now that your work here is done, my angel, will you return to your own world?"

"Not if I can help it," she muttered under her breath.

"Pardon me. I did not catch that."

Real or dream, it did not matter, for it was suddenly clear to her that the world was not something into which people were thrust by chance. It was something that people made, through their actions, hopes, fears and dreams. "I said 'This is my world now.'"

Bio:McCamy is a long time contributor to Aphelion as well as Assistant Short Story Editor. You can find out all about her and herwork by following the link below to her new and improved (Post) Millennium Fiction website.

E-mail:mccamytaylor@earthlink.net

URL:(Post) Milennium Fiction

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