Simantov

by Asaf Ashery

  Her face remained impassive, but her eyes shone. She came down the hill. Elisha was standing facing the mountain, at the center of a rectangle formed by Larissa, Mazzy, Yariv and Izzy.

  “Listen,” Mazzy said, “we’re here to do our job, to prove that Soothsayer can accomplish its mission. If the world remains as it is – from my perspective, this will be an added bonus.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Rachel observed the scene unfolding on the hills encircling the riverbed. Members of Israel’s Order were deployed all around, hiding in tunnels, caverns, crevices, cliffs and, burrows. Throughout this day that had become night, they lay waiting, silent and ready, watching the curtain rise over the confrontation. Rachel wondered why Israel’s men did not climb the hill.

  “A question of timing and destiny,” Israel replied in his basso profundo.

  “This struggle was destined to take place. It’s like a released pressure valve. What’s happening is clear: Lilith’s Daughters know they only have a few minutes to find the crack in the Fallen Angels’ armor. They’ll go at it tooth and nail, throwing all they’ve got into the battle, regardless of casualties or the price that individual members of their Order will pay. This is their only chance. The Nephilim don’t regard Lilith’s Daughters as a real threat. They are trying to deceive the world. They can’t be bothered with these pesky, blood-sucking mosquitoes buzzing around them. They have a ritual to perform: to open the Gate and to close the Gate.”

  “What exactly are we doing here?”

  “We’re here to make sure that nobody plays with Fate; what has been shall be. According to my scouts and observers, there’s a chance that Elijah might intervene, exceeding his role as a mere emissary. From our perspective, this must not happen. No way. How this happens is no less important. The ritual. We’re here to guarantee that order is maintained, not to change the course of events. But, on the other hand, we can’t stand idly by when the Wanderer approaches the Gate. We mustn’t be like them. There is a Judge and there is one Fate.”

  “That’s what he thinks, too, except that in his case, he has seen the Judge. What is your excuse for justice?”

  In reply, Israel removed his shirt, revealing a tattoo Rachel had not seen before.

  “Very simply, we don’t need an excuse, we only do what is said – ‘He shutteth his eyes to devise forward things: moving his lips he bringeth evil to pass. The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness. He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty: and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city. The lot is cast into the lap: but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.’”

  The words tattooed along his shoulder, arm, and forearm did not leave much room for debate. Still, Rachel intended to take him to task for the way he was leading, but at that moment, one of his acolytes came and whispered in his ear. The young man handed him a large spyglass and Israel turned around and looked through it, to a point on the horizon.

  A small group of humans was hiding there, apparently trying to decide if they should put up a fight or survive for another day. Rachel, too, sensed a familiar presence, a blood relation, a cord beginning to tug.

  “She’s here,” said Israel, concealing a smile of expectation.

  He motioned to one of his men.

  Rachel noticed a movement at the bottom of the hill. Members of Israel’s Order emerged from the cover of the rocks and caves. They trained binoculars and telescopes skyward, searching for Mighty Flame.

  In view of the circumstances and the threatening danger, Rachel was almost ashamed of her vanity. The world was on the brink of a major transformation, and all she could think about was how proud she was of her daughter.

  Below her, the warring sides continued marching toward each other and the inevitable, fateful moment. The smoldering bonfires on the hills had been put out by Lilith’s Daughters. Dozens of black and white pillars of smoke rose toward the gradually darkening red sky. The little encampments around the mountain, where the angels had waited, resembled the stone circles of an ancient tribe.

  Ritual, sacrifice, sun, man, and his God. It always came down to this. In all languages. Everything for God, God willing, Thank God, for God’s sake, God preserve us, God will avenge their blood.

  “I still see some sunlight,” Rachel announced to no one in particular.

  “Not for long. The ceremony is about to begin,” replied Israel.

  The angels were standing in a circle around the seven pillars, row upon row, holding flaming swords. Their voices reverberated in the valleys and mountains. Dozens of Nephilim were performing the same sword dance, their lips pronouncing confident words that sliced through the air.

  “The light of the moon shall be as the light of the Sun, and the light of the Sun shall be sevenfold as the light of seven days, in the day that the Lord bindeth up the breach of his people, and healeth the stroke of their wound. Behold the name of the Lord cometh from afar, burning with his anger, and the burden thereof is heavy: his lips are full of indignation, and his tongue as a devouring fire.”

  From the opposing camp of Lilith’s Daughters came a murmur. They were not dancing or cavorting; they shouldered their burden, assiduously preparing for battle. Knives were sharpened, bows drawn, arrows whittled, Luparas cleaned and loaded with homemade ammunition. And through these sounds of hectic activity came a whisper that was intended to throw dust in the enemy’s eyes and sow confidence in their own hearts.

  “Let us swallow them alive. The Nephilim will go down to their graves. Cast thy lot among us. A wicked messenger falleth into mischief, but a faithful ambassador is health. Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird. A voice will be heard in Judea and in the Hills, ‘Restrain thy voice from weeping and thine eyes from tears, for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and your daughters shall come to their own border. Take us back to the days of Kedem.’”

  Through the clouds, like a gliding falcon, emerged Mighty Flame and its charioteer, who was scanning the forces gathered below and singing lustily.

  They say there is a land,

  A land awash in sunlight.

  Where is that land?

  Where is that sunlight?

  They say there is a land,

  Whose pillars number seven,

  And on every hilltop,

  Seven stars shine brightly.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Thin, wraith-like bands of fog swirled around the Soothsayer team. Elisha took a few steps toward the center of the hill. Izzy and Larissa came forward, creating a triangle with the Kabbalist, while Yariv and Mazzy remained outside. Yariv looked suspiciously at the fog.

  “What now?”

  “They’ll try to reach the time when they knew the names. Then they’ll try to connect to the present and further.”

  “How do we know what they’re looking for? When was the time that they knew the names?”

  Mazzy recounted the story Rachel had told her when she was a little girl, the tale that had prepared her for this moment on the hill. Honey was coursing through her veins now, pulsating in her heart and sweetening her lips, almost against her will. Out of the chaos emerged order and night.

  “When the world was first created, there were no names, because there was no need for them. There was only sky and Earth. Man had not yet been created, and the only ones with names were the angels. Their names shone above their heads. Then God created man in His image: male and female did He create them. Adam and Lilith, the first woman and her man. They saw the angels and realized that things needed names to distinguish them from each other. Adam tried to give her a name, to define her with letters of his choosing. Lilith decided to change it, to act on her own…”

  “What’s going on here?”

  “They’re drawing a line. Larissa is running forward to the future, turning over her readings, her prognostications in her head, while Izzy is serving as an anchor to her and to Elisha; she keeps them on a continuous line between what’s p
ossible and what’s already happened, the concrete present. Elisha is trying to connect with a point in time, to look back and see the past, to go further back to the time when there were no names, except those of angels. As soon as he gets to that moment and sees the names, everyone will be able to see them, as long as he holds out.”

  “And then what?”

  “All Lilith’s Daughters will run up the mountain, to the captives. The Nephilim may kill some of them, but they can’t kill them all. Not when they are able to fight back.”

  Yariv was amazed by this simple, merciless plan. He noted the change in his lover; fate and circumstances had etched in her new, sharp, harsh lines.

  “We can’t kill all the Nephilim at once, can we? And what if they kill the women while they’re climbing the mountain? You call this a rescue operation?”

  “Whoever gets to the hill will start shooting. If we keep it at short range, they may not be able to stop the bullets and the knives. Whoever reaches the top will use her firearm. The Key will be there, the leader, the first to descend and the first to ascend. It’s either fight or flight. This is our choice, and we’ll have to live and die by it. In the world that I deem worth fighting for, someone has to try to rescue these women, at least some of them.”

  A tremor shook the hill; cracks and gullies opened up, creating a blazing path to the burning ladder. Yariv saw Mazzy raise her arm, signaling to the others to move forward.

  In the middle of the human triangle, Larissa’s eyes opened wide and turned pitch black, like smoky glass balls. Elisha’s, on the other hand, became perfect circles of lustrous whiteness. Their heads were thrust backward at a right angle, as if their necks had snapped. Izzy, who was holding their hands, gave a loud, heartrending shriek, and her eyes betrayed an excruciating pain.

  Sparks of light flashed from the corners of Elisha’s eyes. Larissa, looked dazed; her pupils fluttered this way and that, trying to escape, like the wheels in a slot machine trying to find the winning combination.

  Mazzy drew her Lupara and began running up the hill. Yariv followed.

  THE NINTH GATE

  CROWN

  THE FORTIETH DAY

  FIVE WEEKS AND FIVE DAYS OF THE COUNTING OF THE OMER

  “She shall give to thine head an ornament of grace: a crown of glory shall she deliver to thee.”

  PROVERBS 4:9

  Shamhazai appraised the bound women.

  They were flanked by two Nephilim on each side, like guards, shielding them with their spread wings against stray bullets. Professor Abigail Odem was sprawled on the pillar, her throat slashed, oozing blood. The Nephilim on the outer flanks shifted restlessly. A few black feathers descended from above, indicating that the aerial cover, too, was getting impatient.

  On the opposite hill stood the human triangle, and the pillars of light and cloud emanating from it scanned the mountain.

  Shamhazai stared at the small army pushing its way up the hill, like Sisyphus, refusing to stop despite the severe casualties they suffered from the Nephilim’s attack. Another second elapsed.

  Doula Ashtribu collapsed under the slaughterer’s knife, writhing in agony before expiring. Moments earlier, she had smiled at Adriel, receiving the knife willingly, as if there was something ennobling and correct in the sacrifice, something divorced from the vanities of this world.

  Shamhazai signaled to Adriel to proceed to Hagar, the next sacrifice to a vengeful God. There were five women left, and they had tried everything. Hagar embodied the significance of the covenant and its nullification.

  Milka tried to employ her charms, Libby threatened Shamhazai, telling him she knew he was the first, the Key, and the two young girls cried and pleaded for mercy.

  Adriel lifted his knife, ready to end the life of Hagar, the only Lilith Daughter who dared contaminate the Nephilim by consorting with one of them. Barakiel had already paid the price. Now it was her turn. Hagar collapsed and slid down the pillar. Now all vestiges of the execrable union between a Naphil and a pale imitation of their Queen Lilith had been expunged. The multitalented actress would be next.

  Then a shaft of bright light blinded the slaughterer’s eyes, and above his head, luminous and clear for all to see, appeared the fiery dancing letters: Ayin, Dalet, Resh, Aleph, Lamed. Adriel.

  Shamhazai looked up at Azazel, commander of the airborne unit, and noticed that a web of glowing threads connected the Nephilim. Rays of light streamed along a fiery path from one to the other, like a giant celestial pinball machine. Whenever the rays hit a Naphil, the letters of his name appeared above his head.

  A primordial sensation took hold of Shamhazai; it was like awakening from a dream, but accompanied by a muscular tremor and anxiety. Something had been lost, and something else found. Shamhazai wanted to issue a succession of orders, but he seemed to have lost the power of speech. He felt as if his mind was being scanned by radiation, searching for the past, the present and the untold future. Fog clouded the space between his lobes. He knew there were letters above his head, the same one that had shone there thousands years ago, but it was as if he was feeling them for the first time.

  And he felt something else, too. Terror. Shamhazai turned and looked down the hill. The entire Order of Lilith’s Daughters was climbing toward him, shooting, whipping, scratching, biting, slicing.

  The hill swarmed with clanging and flares, as plumes of smoke and blue fog enveloped it like a thick cloud. An ear splitting explosion was heard from the turbulence and the world came to a standstill. The sky assumed the orange-yellow colors of sunrise.

  Saharel, standing next to him, took a bullet directly in his forehead. The shockwave emanating from his wound flowed outward, sweeping up everything in its path, shoving aside the known and familiar reality.

  The luminous letters of Saharel’s name flew in the air. For a moment it looked as if they were trying to grab hold of the fiery ladder and climb it, but then they disintegrated and evaporated.

  The remaining Nephilim sank like lead onto the wave of female force. Furiously, they tried to stem the flow of ascenders.

  The women were crushed like ants, but here and there, through the fog of battle, he saw more and more Nephilim disappear. The ground and air circles were thinning fast, as their rank and file faced their death.

  Blazing, twinkling Nephilim were caught in the conflagration. Blue flashes came down from the heavens, swirling around the black plumage of the fallen angels, red and yellow balls of fire snarling around their feet. It was as if someone had pulled the plug on the cosmic lake in which they had immersed themselves.

  Mighty Flame and its four steeds flashed through the clouds.

  Elijah, in his tattered coat, still unscathed by the fire, was hoisting his almond wood staff. Two fiery serpents leapt from the staff, pointing the way down like landing lights on a runway. Elijah and his chariot landed on the hill from where the chain of incandescent names emanated. Seconds later, the prophet reined in his horses and began surrounding the three Soothsayer members.

  Elisha, Larissa and Izzy were caught in the infernal fire that trailed the chariot, reducing trees to ash and rocks to dust in its wake. Elisha fell to his knees. The glowing thread that led from the human triangle to the Nephilim, blazing their names in the sky, flickered intermittently but did not dissolve. Larissa tried to catch her breath while Izzy stood erect against the approaching chariot.

  Rachel saw Israel with his arms outstretched. Members of his Order crawled out of the caverns and tunnels around the hill and scrambled toward the top. They formed seven circles around the Soothsayer trio and the landing strip of Mighty Flame.

  Izzy was dazed and sure she was going to vomit, her knees buckled and she tottered and swayed. She had lost all sensation in her feet and was barely able to feel connected to the ground. For a moment it occurred to her that her study of cacti and her participation in workshops and experiments had finally paid off; she had achieved an outer-body experience, but she had no time to indulge in astral voyages. She was f
rantically searching her mind for the incantation against devils and evil spirits that Elisha had taught her. If it didn’t help, it certainly wouldn’t hurt. When she remembered the text, she was pleased with herself, but the incantation seemed impotent. The words sounding as if they were uttered by somebody else.

  “Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darknes; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.”

  The voice seemed to come, not from her throat, but from somewhere deeper. When she touched her chin to her chest, she realized that her feet were not touching the ground and that, from the center of her body, a thin silvery thread spooled out, preventing her from hovering in the air.

  She looked down at the scene below. At the center stood Elijah in his chariot, now surrounded by seven circles of hirsute men. Two figures were facing the fire and the smoke: Elisha and Larissa. Izzy’s own body was being consumed by the fire leaping from Elijah’s staff.

  She watched herself shake in the paroxysm of a strange St. Vitus dance that only fed the fire. Then her body dropped to the ground, face first. Larissa rushed to her side, throwing sand and dust in a desperate attempt to choke the flames. Elisha stayed put, the luminous thread retaining its luster. Izzy felt a searing pain in her navel and touched it. Her fingers encountered the torn silvery thread. She felt as if someone was holding her by the scruff of her neck and pulling her forcefully upward.

  Elijah was surrounded by dozens of people. At first they looked like regular humans, but he quickly realized that with perfect coordination, their lips were uttering an imprecation.