* * *
Knowledge is power, and Iffie now had certain knowledge that gave her a lot of potential power. The question was – should she use it?
She had been sent for. ‘Like a bloody skivvy,’ she thought resentfully. Still, it probably meant that Ashtoreth was planning some other horrible thing that he wanted her to see. She ought to go and see what it was this time!
‘Ah, he greeted her in the throne room. ‘I’m glad you are here.’ He frowned at her appearance but said nothing.
‘I am leaving this place. We are leaving, I should say. Returning to the world and – perhaps a slightly more suitable outfit for meeting our subjects?’ He suited the action to the word and she was once more in a shimmering white dress. This time her head was ornamented with a glittering coif and the dress was covered with a long velvet cloak.’
She bit her tongue, now was not the time.
Ashtoreth himself was looking magnificent. Normally he wore pretty ordinary clothes, if a bit spiffy, but at the moment, he was tricked out like a Roman emperor, gleaming breastplate and all. Iffie wondered why? Why that particular look? Henry VIII, for example, would have been just as appropriate as Caligula. Both had been murdering egomaniacs hadn’t they?’
She hid her antipathy and joined him on the dais as he indicated she should, and then …
It was as if the whole world shook on its foundations. Iffie thought at first that he was doing it, but from the look on his face, it was something else.
The sounds of screams and explosions filtered through the palace. But Ashtoreth just smiled.
It sounds as if we have visitors,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I’m so glad we dressed for the occasion. It wouldn’t do to greet such important visitors in anything but our Sunday best, now would it?’ And he gripped her arm so tightly that she wanted to scream.
‘I was going to go out and greet the people,’ he continued. ‘But perhaps I do have time to deal with this small matter first.’
Iffie kept her face carefully blank, aware that he was watching her closely.
He smiled, satisfied. ‘But wait,’ he said suddenly. ‘This is not quite right now, is it? This is not how I planned it. Not here. It must be in public. Before the people. A lesson to all those who would rebel.’
‘Ah, well. I have no more need of this place now,’ he said. And when Tamar and Co ran into the throne room to be confronted with the sight of a gently smiling Ashtoreth standing beside a disdainfully magnificent Iffie. He dissolved the dream.
There was a moment of confusion before their vision cleared, and they were back at home. Ashtoreth was standing with Iffie on the dais in front of their own house.
‘But he can’t do this,’ said Cindy. ‘He doesn’t have the power.’
‘Correction,’ said Tamar. ‘He didn’t have the power.’
‘Looks like he got the hang of it fairly quickly after all,’ said Denny.
They were all in the same relative position to Ashtoreth and Iffie, facing the dais from about ten feet away. Tensed and waiting.
Behind them was a large crowd of people, who had certainly not been there before. Ashtoreth clicked his fingers and several of the men in the crowd detached themselves and came forward to surround the gang. ‘My Nephelim brethren can be found everywhere,’ said Ashtoreth in explanation. ‘I estimate that at least half the world’s population are descendants of the Nephelim. And they always come when I call.’
‘Appropriate location don’t you think?’ he continued into the silence. ‘Well, whether you meant to or not, you have managed to make this house, in a certain context, into the centre of the world. People are always drawn here.’ He swept an arm beyond their heads. ‘Look and see. I did not bring them here.’
They remained silent. Waiting for the punch line.
‘He thrust Iffie forward. ‘Have you all met my new queen?’ he said mockingly.
‘What’s she doing with him?’ hissed Stiles.
‘Didn’t you hear,’ said Denny through gritted teeth. ‘She’s his queen.’
‘You mean she’s joined him?’
‘Looks that way.’ He looked at Jack, who hung his head.
Iffie favoured them with an icy stare. Her slicked back hair gleamed in the light. Denny shuddered. His familiar Iffie had become distant and disturbing.
‘Why is her hair wet?’ said Tamar. As if that mattered, Tamar was not facing up to the situation.
‘Perhaps he’s been brainwashing her,’ said Cindy.
This was such a Cindy comment that, for a moment, they nearly laughed out loud.
‘I’ve had enough of this anyway,’ she added and stepped forward and called her son’s name.
His eyes swivelled towards her, and he stopped dead. He looked over her head at Denny. ‘It’s a trick.’ he shrieked. ‘Do you think I am a fool? That is not my mother. You killed my mother and now you think to mock me with this impostor. But I know all your tricks.’
‘No, Ashtoreth,’ said Cindy. ‘It’s me. He didn’t kill me. He saved me. Please listen to me …’
‘Cindy,’ snapped Denny. ‘Get back here, it’s not working, he doesn’t believe you. He’ll kill you.’
‘He’s just standing there,’ said Stiles. ‘What’s he playing at?’
‘Cat and mouse, at a rough guess,’ said Tamar.
Slick came forward now; he was shaking like a leaf. ‘Ash, hey son, it’s me,’ he said. ‘It’s true. That is your mother. You believe me, don’t you? Why else would I be here?’
Ashtoreth looked coldly at him. ‘You?’ he queried in an icy voice. ‘You abandoned me, walked away, and betrayed me. Why should I listen to you? You stand with my enemies now.’
And he jerked his head and blew out a great swath of flame at Cindy, and Denny ran forward and grabbed her out of the way at the last moment.
Then he stepped forward. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘No one else dies. ‘It’s me you’re after, isn’t it? How about we settle this one on one?’
Ashtoreth leaned forward, letting go his grip on Iffie, and extended his dragon wings. He looked down in utter contempt at Denny. ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘And what shall be the winner’s prize?’ He looked at Iffie. ‘Not her at least, she has made her choice. Have you not?’ He turned to her.
And now her eyes were full of tears. At the mercy of this monster, was her father, her mother, her family. They who had saved the world so many times. Now it was her turn.
‘Yes, I have,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’ And she withdrew the Athame that she had concealed within her clothes, the same Athame that she had found in the small room in the palace, the one that had been on the dead body of Ashtoreth’s warrior, as drained and empty of power as the warrior himself, the Athame that he had been afraid she was stealing from the body (although at that time she had not thought of it) and thrust it straight through the armour breast plate, which it cut through like butter, and deep into his heart.
Denny pitched forward. ‘No Iffie, it won’t…’ Then he stopped because it clearly was working.
Ashtoreth was shrieking in agony and fury, and the power transfer that lit up in sparks across the blade was phenomenal. As they watched, Iffie actually began to glow and was lifted off her feet to float in the air by the sheer volume of power being taken into the Athame that she was holding onto tightly.
Ashtoreth fell to his knees, and then as the blade was removed, he fell on his face. Weak, powerless, defeated, but still alive.
The remaining Nephelim dropped their aggressive stance and looked bewilderedly around them,
It was over.
Almost.
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
Iffie floated gently back to the ground, still holding the Athame. ‘Whoa,’ she said. ‘What a rush!’
Then she looked down at Ashtoreth who raised himself onto his knees and looked up at her with bleary heartbroken eyes.
‘Betrayed,’ he said, and he bowed his head and folded his now once more angelic wings over his face. And Iffie looked away
from him at the frozen tableau of astonished spectators, who were all staring at her in amazement and shock.
It was Tamar who moved first. She made her way up to the dais and, acknowledging her daughter with a touch of the hand and a smile, bent down to the distraught Ashtoreth. A gasp ran through the crowd as she gently turned his face towards hers and took his hands in her own. He was looking at her in bewilderment and his expression was mirrored in the faces of every person there. Only Denny was not really surprised. Tamar was unpredictable. But always, always gracious in victory. Iffie just stood as still as a statue with her mouth open in shock until Denny lifted her gently off the dais.
‘Kill me,’ Ashtoreth said bitterly.
‘Yeah, kill him,’ came a voice from the crowd. ‘Kill the monster.’
The crowd took up the cry. ‘KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL, KILL …’ They all knew him. His face was all over the planet, on posters, leaflets, televison. ‘KILL, KILL, KILL …’
Tamar ignored them.
‘No mercy,’ she said to him. And he looked into her eyes and saw the love and compassion there and saw that she could see him, right down into his tortured soul, and yet she did not hate him for it. There was no devil in her eyes, the evil that he had believed in so fervently, that had driven him for so long, was a fiction, and, at that moment, something inside him broke forever. He understood that she was saying she was not going to kill him and offer him an easy way out. But he no longer cared what became of him. He was done.
‘Forgive me,’ he said. And Tamar smiled and put a hand on his head like a benediction. ‘Stand up, she said.
As he raised himself up slowly, the crowd surged forward with murder in their hearts. But Tamar held up a hand and everyone stopped dead, as if hitting a wall. It was not often that Tamar unleashed her power like this, but when she did she was terrifying. The crowd backed off uneasily.
She turned back to Ashtoreth, and they looked at each other for a moment then they both nodded as if they both now understood something about the other.
‘I know what you want,’ she said. ‘Peace.’
‘There is no peace for me,’ he said. ‘Even in death.’
But Tamar smiled at him. ‘I forgive you,’ she said, and as he smiled back at her, a gentle, happy smile that made him beautiful, she touched his shoulder, and he turned into stone where he stood. His final and best smile captured for eternity.
‘Be at peace,’ she said. ‘Forever.’
‘Get rid of them,’ said Tamar to Denny, indicating the crowd. Denny nodded. ‘Right!’ he said. He turned to Stiles. ‘Give me a hand?’ he said, handing Iffie over to her mother’s care.
‘Mum?’ said Iffie in a bewildered tone, as if she really was not certain that it was. ‘You just forgave him, just like that?’
‘Just like that,’ said Tamar with a smile. ‘Hey, when you’ve been kicking around as long as I have, you get to realise one important thing about the universe.’
‘Which is?’
‘Shit happens – get over it. There’s no point holding a grudge.’
‘Will, I?’ said Iffie. ‘Be kicking around as long as you now?’
Tamar glanced at the Athame. ‘Looks that way, doesn’t it? I knew something would turn up,’ she added complacently.
‘But … Ash, I mean he did all those terrible things …’
‘Hmm yes well, we’ll just have to see what we can do about that, won’t we?’ said Tamar. ‘You may have Earth shattering powers now my girl, but you’re about to learn that there’s no substitute for experience.’
‘You mean you’ve had a brilliant idea?’ said Iffie.
Tamar just winked.
‘Okay,’ said Iffie, ‘who are you and what have you done with my mum?’ Then she turned and saw Jack heading towards her with such a strange look on his face that her heart turned over.
Tamar’s brilliant idea was to place Ashtoreth’s statue in the Hall Of Images, a file in mainframe which housed the marble and stone images of imaginary Beings that relied on belief to exist. Usually deities. In doing this, because Ashtoreth was both himself and his image, Tamar was creating a paradox and, at the same time, turning his whole reign of terror, his entire existence, in fact, into a mere legend.
She admitted that she had been toying with the idea for some time, but had been uncertain as to whether she would be able to carry it out. It depended on getting close enough to him to turn him to stone. An impossibility when they had no idea where he was, and almost as impossible when he had the power of the ancient dragons, which Tamar had known he had as soon as she had seen him, and which she admitted far superseded her own power. But Iffie had found a way around both these problems, by simply gaining his trust. Wonderful! Tamar and Denny were very proud of her. But now of course, they had another problem. Teaching her to use her new powers responsibly, when those powers were far greater than their own.
But Iffie was more than willing to learn. She had seen for herself that her mother’s compassion for Ashtoreth had achieved far more than cruel vengeance could ever have done.
By forgiving him instead of hating and punishing him, she had healed the world of all that he had done. That was the power of experience, just as her mother had said.
Iffie thought this was wonderful, ‘I’m not so sure I could have done it,’ she admitted. ‘I hated him so much at the end.’
‘You did what you had to, and I did what I had to,’ said Tamar. ‘But I’ll tell you this, if you hadn’t, I’d probably have killed him myself to get you back.’
‘I know that too, but … you didn’t have to.’
‘No, and there’s no point in taking revenge on a beaten opponent. It usually ends up making things worse. At least, it never makes it better anyway. I’ve done a few things in my time that needed forgiving.’ She glanced at Denny. ‘There’s my own path to redemption right there,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t always this way you know, able to forgive. I carried a lot of bitterness and vengeance around with me for a long time. And, believe me, if I can learn, anyone can.’
Jack had sent up a prayer of devout thanks to – no one in particular, what with him being a Faerie – but devout thanks all the same, when Iffie had turned the Athame on Ashtoreth. At that moment, he suddenly saw it all so clearly. She had not betrayed them all at all, but had been trying to save his life in the only way she knew how. He owed her more than an apology now. But it would do for a start. He considered himself a great fool for not having realised it sooner.
‘There was no way you could have known,’ said Iffie. ‘I have to admit, I had been acting pretty strange.’
‘There’s just one thing I don’t understand,’ said Jack. ‘There was no way that that Athame should have worked on him, unless …’
‘Unless what?’
‘Unless he was still … uncorrupted.’
‘Is that a euphemism for being a virgin?’ said Iffie baldly.
Jack winced. ‘He was part angel, with incorruptible flesh supposedly, unless he …’
There was a silence. ‘Admit it Iffie, you did like him a lot at the beginning, didn’t you?’
‘Not that much,’ she said indignantly.
‘Perhaps too indignantly?’ he wondered.
‘He probably just became vulnerable when he changed into a dragon instead of a half angel.’ she added. And Jack knew that he would never know.
‘Besides …’ she broke off, not sure whether she should continue.
‘Besides what?’ he asked.
‘Well …’ She decided to bite the bullet. If it all ended in a lifetime of awkward silences and avoiding each other then so be it. ‘He’s no you,’ she said pointedly.
Jack’s eyes widened. ‘But you were … I mean you were always hanging round with him. Always going on about him, and you stayed in contact with him Iffie, I know you did.’
‘Were you jealous?’ she asked slyly.
‘Insanely,’ he admitted.
‘Well, that’s all right then,’ she said.
Iffie was not the only one to have been impressed by the power of forgiveness as demonstrated by Tamar. Jack remembered now, Erasmus’s final words to him as he had left heaven.
‘M- Mother?’
Cindy turned a look of complete shock on her face. ‘J-Jacky… Jack?’
Jack hung his head; suddenly this did not seem like such a good idea. He had no idea what to say.
Cindy bit her lip and pulled nervously at her hair. ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me,’ she said. ‘But … I am so sorry for all that I have done.’ A flash of understanding came to her as she said these words. ‘And it was me,’ she said. ‘Only me. It was never … I closed my heart off because it hurt too much to feel,’ she said. ‘I loved you as if you were my own son. I left you behind because … Well you see I told myself I only wanted Ashtoreth for his power, but that wasn’t true you see, not really. He was my son, but you … you were more a son to me than he was, I couldn’t help that. You were my baby, the one I had raised. I left you behind for the same reason I left here in the first place. To leave love behind me. It was cruel and wrong and selfish, and I was a monster to do it. But I did love you. I just didn’t want to.’
Jack stared at her. ‘That can’t have been easy to say,’ he said. ‘I remember you were always so proud and touchy. And then you just … you take all the blame to make me feel better?’
‘The blame is mine.’
‘Well, yes, but … it’s got to be a hard thing to admit to. ’Specially to me. Do you … still … I mean …?’
‘I love you still,’ said Cindy. ‘But I know that I have forfeited any chance that you …’
‘I do forgive you,’ said Jack and was amazed to feel a surge of relief and happiness swell through him as he said it. ‘You were – are the only mother I’ve ever known. I want you back.’
* * *
Soon after Ashtoreth was laid to rest so to speak, Cindy sought out Tamar. ‘We’ll be going away for a bit,’ she said. ‘Slick and I. It may not have been real to the rest of the world. But I’ll always know.’
Rise Of The Nephilim (The Tamar Black Saga) Page 22