None of the humans appreciated the irony. “Wilt thou inherit the wind?” the elohim asked them. “What fools these mortals be. Is there no education in these modern days, or has man abandoned all wisdom for empty air?”
“Must you drone on?” Serena complained. “Why are we here?”
“I gathered this assembly of fools to give you a warning. I told you of a book, once given to Adam by a rebel. Adam chose to disregard this collection of powerful utterances, but Cain heard the book’s voice and stole it. Later, Azazel found it in a cave beneath the Mount of Hermon, where he and his brethren descended.”
“Why is this book so important? Surely, it’s not a Bible!” laughed the newest member, Captain William Wychwright.
“Hardly. The Bible is told from our jailer’s viewpoint. But Sefer Raziel is filled with the words of creation. Together, they are a spell that can reorder all things. Azazel tried to use the book, but Sama took it from him in battle and tore it into thirteen pieces, which he concealed inside thirteen prisons. One in the Hermon stone; one in my own. Two more were unearthed in France last month. One in Goussainville, the other in Saint Clair-sur-Epte.”
“Then there are only nine more to uncover!” declared Urquhart.
“Yes, but most of the words are unreadable,” answered Saraqael. “Allow me to explain, for those who’ve only just joined us. Long ago, the One created us, the elohim, to serve as his companions and council. We participated in the creation of the universe, in the same way a chorus might accompany a soloist. The One spoke, and we confirmed those words by singing. Know you not the verse in Job? ‘Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who laid the measures thereof? Or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations fastened? Or who laid the cornerstone thereof, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?’
“Oh, it was a mighty, resounding chorus that echoed for aeons! Four recording angels stood beside the throne and took down all words of creation. The One looked upon us as though we were equals, and it caused a fierce loyalty within our hearts! Then, he made that mud creature, and our place in the council changed. We learnt of a plan to elevate this Adam to a higher position than we held. He would be our judge!
“I watched as many of my brethren plotted against the One. But then, I was a fool—still loyal to a tyrant. I fought against the legion of the Nachash as they assaulted the throne. Raziel took advantage of the war to steal the book. He fled the council and followed Adam eastward.”
“And he gave it to Adam?” asked St. Ives.
“Yes. Cain then stole it, but the book betrayed him. Azazel would have used it to reverse Time, but Samael took it from him.”
“Then why didn’t he simply return it to heaven?” asked Urquhart. “If Sama is so loyal, why not give it back to God?”
“Because, the One ordered us to hide it upon earth. I can only guess why.”
“Us?” asked Urquhart.
Saraqael smiled at the builder. “Yes, us. I didn’t see the wisdom of Lucifer’s rebellion until nine centuries ago. I used to walk beside Sama as we patrolled the seven realms. He and I were as close as any. Friends as well as brothers. Now, I hope to bring him that same enlightenment—but if not, then I shall kill him,” he added, coldly.
“But what of this book? What powers lie within it, and how can we use it?” Wychwright asked greedily.
“We can use it to release the others. The book can reorder all human choices; breaking the past and creating a new present. It can alter Time. That was the mission Trent began, but his vision and plans were too small. Raziel’s plans are large, but he is too weak to implement them. Mine, however, are perfect. We shall assemble all these fragments along with the Watchers who guard them, and then speak the words to change the world.”
“And this Araqiel you mentioned?” the builder pressed. “Will he follow this plan?”
“He will do as I ask, so long as it fits his desires. I know how to manipulate his mind, you see. Ara is a high ranking member of the Nachash. The oldest Dragon Order.”
“Nachash? Dragon Order?” asked Wychwright. “A load of nonsense!”
Urquhart turned to the baron, his expression dark. “Take care how you speak, mon ami! Hold your tongue!”
Saraqael glared at the careless captain. “Yes, hold your tongue, little man, lest I bite it off. I’ve no need for humans to accomplish this plan. I include you out of kindness. Would you be an eater, or would you be eaten? A wolf or a meal?”
“We prefer complete answers,” the builder interrupted. “Lord Wychwright is new to all this, mon ami. But we others have slaved for you, bled for you, and sacrificed much for your kind, my lord Saraqael. And it has done us very little good! Raziel may be a poor general, but you seem interested only in your vendetta against Charles Sinclair. Why is that?”
Surprisingly, Sara defended the young duke. “It is true. Once, I tried to kill the boy, but Samael foiled it by stealing him from my grasp and hiding him away. Then he threw me into a dark cell, where I saw no light but the weak moon of the Seven Realms. I wandered through those mazes for years, planning my escape and whispering into the minds of the men and women of Redwing. I called out to you for aid, and last month, you answered that call. My anger against the boy was fierce when I first emerged, but I begin to see a way he might prove useful. I’ve conferred with others of my kind, including the Prince of France. Sinclair’s blood is rarer than I thought, and with Araqiel’s arrival, the boy’s blood begins to awaken. Like calls to like, after all. Without his blood, the spell to reorder Time will fail. Sinclair is the key—the gatekeeper to another world. A utopia beyond human imagination! Samael was right to save him. Sinclair is like no other man on earth.”
Serena’s face lit with hunger. “Yes! Yes! I perceived it when we touched! He is unique, is he not? But how? I could feel it pulse through his veins, yet no one has explained it to me. Sir Clive is right, my lord. We wish only to serve you, but it is difficult to walk in darkness. You spoke of wandering a maze, and yet we stumble in one of our own. Can you not show us the way?”
“Is that so?” the fallen angel asked, his eyes sparking fire. “Would you learn more, foolish human? Do you not know that blood is required to unseal these books? Which of you would volunteer to open his veins? Your Round Table numbers dwindle, but whose hand holds the blade? Perhaps, it is Raziel.”
“Someone is killing us, but for no reason. We are all loyal, my prince,” St. Ives prattled.
“Are you? No deceit slithers through your innermost thoughts? No treachery lies in your dark hearts?”
“We all do as you ask, my lord,” added Clive, “but Raziel holds the blade. He told me himself, that he is our killer.”
“Then, my brother lays claim to acts not his own,” declared Sara. “But if not Raziel, then who? Might another hand hold the blade? Perhaps, Samael wields the knife. He is, after all, a Reaper. Then again,” he added, his dark eyes becoming deep pools of oblivion, “perhaps, my hand held the knife that slit Lord Hemsfield’s fat throat. Mine that thrust the sword into Lord Peter Andrews’s traitorous back, and my own fingers that throttled Baron Wychwright even as he begged for mercy from the One. My lips that sucked the blood from his veins, and my eyes that beheld his last glance.”
The humans grew quiet, their faces pale.
“How amusing you all look!” crowed the demonic elohim. His Koshmar appearance grew liquid, turning into smoke before solidifying into the figure of a massive grey wolf.
The terrifying creature snarled at them, its teeth bared. “You look like a row of sheep, ready for slaughter. Do you think me a jester now, Sir Clive? Am I the funny one with the amusing ideas? The one that bows and scrapes to Raziel and Samael? I am almighty Striga, the Skin-Changer!” he proclaimed proudly. “The ancient dread, the ravenous spirit, the King of Stone with a will of iron! I conquered the stone m
aze and emerged as its new king! Uriens, the ancient raven, is now my pet, and I am your eternal master. Shall I rip out your insolent throat for your doubts? Consume you like I would a suckling pig?”
“No, my lord! No, I, uh... Well, I wish only to serve you.”
The others nodded, their eyes downcast, hands trembling.
“A wise answer,” the Stone King growled. “I play the trickster spirit to disarm my enemies, but my powers are far greater than Raziel’s—and he knows it. That is why he fled to France. He seeks Araqiel’s alliance, but he will fail in this, for Ara has pledged himself to me. We are allies, you see. A brotherhood formed in the Realms of Stone. He is the Dragon that commands the earth, the rocks, and trees. He speaks to the woods and discerns the hidden marrow of the caves. And he knows the locations of the other sacred fragments. Those which contain the words spoken by the One before man was created. When the Seven Realms lived in harmony,” the fallen angel recalled.
“Since that dreadful day, we who are wise have come to understand the One’s hidden plans. He intends to replace us in the council with you apes. That will never happen! We will unseat the One and return the realms to beauty once more, but first human civilisation must burn. The Seven Dragons, the league of the Nachash, will join together once more and bring refining fire with them. Their wisdom will set the realms aright. They are the children of Chaos, and they hunger for revenge. Soon, when Sinclair rises to become King of England, when he submits to his calling; then, his blood will be sufficiently aligned to open the gates and reset Time, and old Saturn’s reign will return.”
Chapter Sixty-One
Midnight – Branham Hall
“Everyone’s retired for the evening, my lord,” Baxter told his employer. “Mrs. Alcorn and I just wanted to bid you goodnight.”
“Oh, wait! I have something for you, Cornelius,” Charles told the servant. Reaching into his coat pocket, the duke withdrew two folded cases, one made of royal blue leather; the other of black. “We’ve been so busy this evening that it slipped my mind.”
Sinclair opened the black case to show its contents:
WARRANT CARD
Intelligence Branch
Home Office
DET. INSP. CORNELIUS J. BAXTER
24th December, 1888
The royal blue case was embossed on the exterior with ‘ICI Agency’ and identified Baxter as a circle agent with the rank of Inspector. The official date listed was also 24th, December, 1888.
Baxter’s fleshy face lifted into a proud grin. “It’s official?”
“As official as my own. Now, get a good night’s rest. I promise you that serving as a detective will be taxing. Perhaps, not physically, but mentally. Your future wife will need to keep you on a healthy schedule. The duchess and I are delighted for both you and Esther.”
Alcorn took Baxter’s arm. “We’d hoped it wouldn’t interrupt the order of things, my lord. With Neil a detective inspector now, we no longer have to worry about how our marriage might seem to the staff, ya know.”
“Neil?”
“Short for Cornelius, sir. It’s what my father always called me,” explained the new inspector.
“Ah, well, it seems a very short name for so grand a gentleman,” replied the duke. “Congratulations to you both. If there is anything the duchess and I can do to help with the wedding, we’d be honoured.”
Esther cleared her throat and then glanced at her future husband. “Well, sir, we’d hoped to get married here at Branham. There’s a lovely, little prayer chapel in the north wing that’s just the right size for us.”
Charles smiled. “Of course! I’m sure my wife would be delighted. When? Have you set a date?”
Baxter patted Esther’s hand lovingly. “We thought May, sir. It’s a busy time with the fête and all, but then it would be a very small wedding.”
“Choose your date, and we’ll make it so, Inspector Baxter. Now, my own bride awaits upstairs; though, she’s probably fallen asleep. As the staff are on holiday tomorrow, we’ll all sleep late. Goodnight.”
The duke smiled as he climbed the grand staircase, towards the master apartment. He was still smiling when he entered the quiet parlour. Bella and Briar had decided to sleep with Adele again, and Samson returned to his mistress for the night. Dumpling snored beside the queen in a nearby apartment, leaving the master bedchamber a realm of peace and quiet.
Charles quickly changed into a night shirt and slipped into the warm bed. Beth lay on her left side. He pulled her close and placed his right arm round her waist. Shutting his eyes, Sinclair began to count his blessings. In only a few months’ time, he’d regained his lost family, married a beautiful wife, and now had twin children on the way. No matter what the enemy night try; no matter the stratagem, no matter the plot; he would trust in the Lord to guide and protect them.
Georgianna, he thought happily as he drifted to sleep. One day soon, I’ll hold you in my arms again. And then, the world will be complete.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Boxing Day, 9:11 am - Branham Hall
With the entire staff given the day off, breakfast that morning consisted of pastries, breads, sliced cold meat, and salted kippers. Nearly everyone slept late, except for Adele, who greeted each guest as he or she entered the dining hall, where Mrs. Stephens had laid out a self-serve buffet. Della giggled as the troupe of dogs wove in and out of the men’s legs, as though performing some new trick. Sitting at the long table, she handed a bite of biscuit to her new puppy. The sleepy animal licked at the treat, trying now and then to take a small nibble with its razor sharp teeth.
“You mustn’t feed her too many sweets,” her brother warned as he joined her at the table. “She’ll get fat.”
“Cousin Charles eats sweets all the time, and he isn’t fat.”
Paul laughed, slicing through a juicy orange. “True, but Charles doesn’t sleep all the time. When Napper is bigger, she’ll need good food to build muscle and stamina. Have you gone to the stables yet?”
“No,” she answered, taking a bite of ham. “Why? Isn’t it too cold to ride?”
“Not at all. Horses don’t mind cold weather. They do live in a barn, you know. Besides, the sun’s already warming the air. It should be a fine day for riding.”
“Does Beth have a horse my size?”
Charles had just filled his plate and took a seat opposite the youngster. “Horses? Are we discussing the sleigh ride?”
“Will there be a sleigh?” asked Della, excitedly. “We used to have one at Briarcliff, but one of the runners broke, and Mr. Gower never repaired it.”
“I’m told the hall has three sleighs, and all will be put to use this afternoon. How’s Holloway this morning?”
“Restive, so says Henry,” replied the earl. “Our patient tossed and turned all night.”
“Which means our doctor also had a poor night. And Cordelia?”
Paul smiled, his eyes lighting with joy. “Doing much better, though her bruises still hurt. She’ll be down in about an hour. Mrs. Alcorn suggested a soak in Epsom salts to relieve the ache. Her mind is much clearer, now that she’s no longer taking that dreadful elixir.”
“And you? Are you happy with a wife, Brother mine?” asked Adele.
“Very happy, Sister mine. Now eat your breakfast. Good morning, Auntie Drina,” he said as the disguised sovereign entered the dining hall. “How did you sleep?”
“Like a pampered puppy,” she said with a wink at Della. “Is Napper the official name, then, or has it changed since last night?”
“Napper is the name,” answered Adele brightly. “We’re going to ride on a sleigh ride today, Aunt Drina. Won’t that be fun?”
The queen sat while James Stuart filled two plates with a bit of everything. “Not too much of the fish, James. A second scone, though, I think. One with currents, if there are any left.”
&nb
sp; Drummond obeyed and joined the table. “Have we offered the blessing?” he asked his family.
Sinclair set down his fork. “Our casual setup has left us out of step. James, would you offer it?”
The Scotsman reached for the queen’s hand, who then took Charles’s. One by one, every person at the table held the hand of another. Edmund and Emily Reid, Paul and Adele Stuart, Cornelius Baxter and Esther Alcorn, Malcolm Risling, and Thomas Galton. Riga and the others still slept, having stayed up late reading. Just as James was about to begin, Duchess Elizabeth squeezed into the spot to her husband’s left, near the head of the table.
“Forgive me, everyone, for being late. I stopped in to say hello to Seth.”
To his surprise, Charles felt no jealousy at all, and he praised God for it. “We’re about to pray, little one,” he said.
She turned to look at him; as though she could read his thoughts. “You’re a wonderful man. I’m so very glad I married you, Captain.”
“So am I,” he whispered.
“Let’s seek the Lord’s face,” said Drummond with a grin, happy to see his family and friends gathered round. He spoke in a soft Scottish accent. “Lord of all, we come to you this morning as a family of miracles, for the blessings this Christmas surpassed all previous years, my Lord. I eat with my beloved granddaughter and long-lost nephew, who is father of my great-grandchildren, who’ll arrive next June. Adele grows brighter and wiser each passing day, and Paul has taken a bride. It’s my prayer that this new marriage will blossom like a rose, revealing ever changing colours and hidden depths as it matures. May Cordelia enjoy being a Stuart, and may you bless their union with many children.
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