One Crown & Two Thrones: The Prophecy

by Iseult O'Shea

  “Well now that you come to it, she too felt very tired and soon excused herself from the party,” Jophiel said, her eyes upon the floor. “Odd don’t you think?”

  “Did you see anyone unusual at the party?” Galean interrogated his friend, his mind now consumed with worry. It was very strange that his friends should suddenly fall privy to sleep after drinking champagne considering the rage Theodore must have felt after witnessing the kiss he had shared with his friend’s wife.

  “If I am being honest I wasn’t really looking, I was taken up with…, well events of the evening,” Jophiel replied with knowing eyes. “But now that I think about it, it was quite odd don’t you think? Or am I just being paranoid?”

  “No you’re not being paranoid,” Galean murmured. “Maybe you should go back and check that all is well.”

  “Not without you,” Jophiel argued firmly. “Listen we can both go back and check that everything is alright and if it is then you can leave without disturbing Eveline or Cael, yes?”

  Galean played with his bowler hat as he thought about Jophiels proposition carefully.

  “You promise to let me go if we find that all is okay?”

  “I promise despite my thinking that you should stay a little longer,” Jophiel said with great fondness for Galean. Galean lifted his hat and placed it on his head.

  “I will return with you, just to ensure that everyone is alright,” he said, rising to his feet and holding out a hand for his friend who took it kindly bringing herself to her feet.

  “I warn you it is freezing outside,” she smiled, lifting the collar of her coat and tucking her scarf around her throat.

  “It couldn’t be any colder than inside this abbey,” Galean smiled slightly as he picked up his case and made his way out of the pew, letting Jophiel wrap her arm within his own as they made their way down the nave of the abbey. Outside the world was a swirl with snow, which danced about beautifully with grace and poise. There walk through the quite town was itself just as quiet, both filled with agonising anticipation for what lay ahead. As they walked through the park, Jophiel felt herself cling to Galean, every step taken only heightening the feeling that something was amiss.

  “Something nefarious fills the air,” she whispered quietly, her eyes alert and wide.

  “Yes, I can feel it too,” Galean murmured into her hat.

  “It almost feels as though we are being watched, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “The park is isolated Jophiel, your letting your imagination run away,” Galean said kindly, laying a hand upon her own for comfort.

  “I’m not usually wrong about these things Galean and with Eveline being poisoned by Nagtium, I wouldn’t be surprised if something was amiss.”

  “Lagmar wouldn’t dare enter the house, not when it is filled with angels,” Galean tried to tell himself.

  “That isn’t what frightens me,” Jophiel replied as they turned a corner, their feet slugging through thick snow.

  “What frightens you?”

  “I’m frightened that the poison will consume Eveline, she did almost kill Estelle two nights ago,” Jophiel said with trembling lips.

  “Theodore will have given her her medication before going to bed,” Galean said with certainty. “She has been much more like herself since being injected with the antivenin.”

  “But there is only one vial left.”

  “She should have enough in her system to make it to London on time,” Galean soothed as they rounded another corner.

  “I hope so.”

  It didn’t take Galean and Jophiel long to reach the gate of the park, but as they came to stand on Cavendish road they stopped.

  “Why is the door open?” Jophiel whispered anxiously. Galean scanned the road, his grip tightening around Jophiels hand.

  “I don’t know but something is wrong, I can feel it.”

  “I’ve felt it for quite some time.”

  “Come.”

  Galean guided Jophiel across the empty road until they stood before the steps, peering up into the darkness of the house, the heavy door gently rocking against the inner wall of the reception area.

  “Galean I’m scared, something dark lingers within,” Jophiel said with wary eyes, her fingers biting into Galean’s coat sleeve.

  “Do you have your dagger?” Galean whispered as they made their way up the steps.

  “Yes,” Jophiel whispered, her cheek brushing off his coat.

  “Take it out,” Galean ordered, releasing his friend. “Now is the time for courage Jophiel, do not let me down.” Jophiel nodded taking a gulp as she opened her coat and found her dagger within, taking it out and holding it at arm’s length as they entered the house. Galean took out his own dagger and let it fall to his side as they came to stand in the centre of the reception area. Snow covered the marble floor and first dozen steps of the stairs. Closing his eyes he lifted his nose and began to smell. “Blood,” he whispered aloud, opening his eyes and finding Jophiels gaze.

  “Look there are footprints in blood,” she said pointing the tip of her dagger to the ground. Galean bent down to the ground and assessed the footprints.

  “They lead from the servants stairs and make their way up the stairs,” he said quietly. The footprints were slight, they were not the imprint of a man’s foot but a woman’s. Galean dipped the tip of his index finger into the blood and brought it up to his nose, smelling it deeply. “This is not human blood,” he whispered darkly. “This is the blood of our brothers.” As he spoke a heavy gust of wind entered the house through the open door and startled Jophiel.

  “Galean this house reeks of death, can you not smell and feel its icy breathe upon your skin?”

  “Yes,” Galean said aloud as he drew himself up from the ground, turning his bright eyes to the pale and frightened Jophiel. “Remember who you were Jophiel. I need you to be strong.” Jophiel simply nodded as Galean turned and strode with intent towards the servants stairs, Jophiel following close behind him with renewed focus. As they descended the stairs the smell of death caused Galean to wretch, his free hand clutching at his stomach tightly. It was not long before they entered the kitchens and came face to face with the lifeless bodies of their friends, strewn across the table and floor, a large pool of blood surrounding them. Jophiel ran over to Ada and placed two fingers upon her throat, feeling for a pulse.

  “Dead,” she cried quietly, unable to control her grief. Galean was scanning the kitchen with concentrated attention whilst Jophiel checked the other angels for signs of life, shaking her head with sadness. His blue eyes scanned the floor and stopped, their gaze fixed upon a broken and discarded oil lamp, lying upon the floor close to the door of the kitchen, surrounded by shards of glass. Slowly he made his way towards the door and stopped, frowning as his mind tried to piece the clues together. Someone had used the lamp as a means of distraction from the attacker he concluded, kneeling down to touch a shard of glass.

  “What is it?” Jophiel whispered as she walked round the table.

  “Someone escaped, using this lamp,” Galean answered quietly, turning his head so that his gaze was directed towards the table, observing a discarded and turned chair close to where Jophiel stood. “Someone was hiding under the table as the attacker killed our friends.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know, but I have seen oil lamps like these upstairs in my room and along the corridors.”

  “Yes, so have I,” Jophiel said with a thoughtful expression. “Do you think that maybe someone had arisen and come downstairs?”

  “Possibly,” Galean answered with a lingering sigh as he swept his eyes over his friends, a deftly ache consuming his heart. They were among the few, light hearted, loyal and filled with optimism, qualities he respected. The death of an angel was pivotal, such was the length of their lives that to lose one angel would cause a catastrophic tsunami of grief among those of their kind, to lose three in one night would harbour their race numb with shock. There was no afterlife for angels unlike
humans, they simply became the beacons of light within the night sky.

  “Galean?”

  Jophiel brought Galean back from his stricken thoughts, forcing him to turn from his lifeless friends.

  “Come,” he said with a stricken voice a voice that pained Jophiel as much as the eyes of the man that spoke. Without much thought he took her free hand and guided her out of the kitchen and up the stairs until they came upon the ground floor. Snow still swirled about as they followed the footprints through the reception and up the marble stairs. The sounds of their clad feet echoed about them until finally they came to stand on the first floor.

  “Is it possible that this floor feels even more disturbed?” Jophiel whispered into Galean’s ear.

  “It shouldn’t be but I understand what it is you feel right now in this moment,” Galean muttered taking her down to the hall towards Eveline’s room.

  “Oh my God!” Jophiel exclaimed loudly as they came to stand before a figure covered in a rug. Jophiels hand squeezed Galean’s as the fear that Theodore lay under the rug spread through her. “I can’t,” she cried. Galean lifted the rug away to reveal Mary’s white face, her eyes wide open and filled with terror. Overwhelmed she fell to the ground and covered her face with her hands and wept as her body shivered with grief and shock. Meanwhile Galean examined the body with tear filled eyes. There was one stab wound to the heart, where warm blood still poured out upon her nightdress, flooding it with wetness and red blood, which gathered in a pool about her body. With shaking fingers, he closed the lids of her eyes and covered her body once again with the rug.

  “Stay here,” he ordered Jophiel, walking out of the room. Jophiel watched as he checked the rooms, coming to stand before the opening of Estelle’s room. “Galean?” she called out. Galean stood still and did not reply, walking into the room and disappearing from sight. Jophiel arose and followed suite, entering the room as she wiped her face.

  “Belle and Theodore have been taken,” Galean said as he unveiled the body of Estelle, her eyelids already closed. Jophiel entered the darkened room and scanned the area. Coming to the end of the bed she saw something glimmer on the floor near to the door.

  “A syringe,” she said aloud, picking up the discarded syringe. “Antivenin.”

  “She knew the face of her killer,” Galean said aloud as he studied Estelle’s expression, a slight smile upon her lips, a smile that spoke a thousand words. “Someone she loved.” Jophiel came to his side, holding out the syringe for him to take. Galean studied the syringe in his free hand and turned to Jophiel. “Eveline.”

  “Why would she kill her own mother?” Jophiel whispered with frightening stillness in her voice.

  “She wouldn’t,” Galean murmured looking down at the lifeless face. “Estelle must have known that Eveline had forgotten to take her medication.”

  “And without it she would find herself prey to the poison,” Jophiel added with a concerned expression.

  “She has not just been poisoned,” Galean said with dark eyes. “She has been possessed.”

  “But how?”

  “The bite of Nagtium renders anyone’s mind vulnerable to countless vile things, including possession,” Galean whispered through gritted teeth. “I should have seen it, should have detected its traces within her behaviour but I was too caught up in my own selfish emotions.”

  “This is no time to start blaming yourself Galean,” Jophiel said as she touched Estelle’s hand with gentleness.

  “Lagar uses a particular demon when possessing his enemies,” Galean said, raising his eyes to Jophiel. “Nathaniel.”

  “The syringe, it’s empty,” Jophiel said with raised brows. “Is it possible that Estelle managed to inject Eveline?”

  “Yes, that would explain the smile,” Galean said with a nod, his eyes lightening.

  “So it is possible that the antivenin could deter the demon? Sedate him even?”

  “Yes…,” Galean whispered, hope arising within like the flicker of a flame filling a darkened chamber with light. “Yes.”

  “Then there is hope,” Jophiel said with a slight smile, resting her free hand upon his own. Galean got up and walked about the room heavy with thought. Looking down once again he suddenly found footprints, leaving the room and began to follow. Jophiel stayed put, covering Estelle with the blanket once again. As she rose to leave Galean re-entered.

  “She went back to her room, her shoes are missing.”

  “Is it possible that she has gone after Theodore and Belle wherever they are?” Jophiel asked as she and Galean left Estelle’s room and made for the stairs.

  “Yes. Look these footprints are different, they are the prints of shoes. She must have stepped through the puddle of blood when leaving the room.”

  “But how does she know where they are?” Jophiel asked as they descended the steps and followed the footprints to the door, stopping where the trail ended on the top step of the porch.

  “She doesn’t,” Galean said as he bent down and examined the footprints.

  “Why do they stop here?” Jophiel asked, her eyes assessing the area about them, dark and still with no sigh of movement. Galean rose and looked down the steps with terrified eyes.

  “She reached the door and was met by a shadow,” Galean muttered, descending the steps and standing upon the path, turning his head and gaze left and right. “She has been abducted.” Jophiel followed Galean down the steps.

  “Where have they taken her?”

  “Somewhere shadows congregate.”

  “But they can meet anywhere,” Jophiel argued, snow falling onto her raven black hair.

  “But there preferred meeting place is?” Galean looked down into her face. Jophiels brows relaxed as she suddenly realised where Eveline had been taken.

  “Graveyards.”

  XII

  Prince of Darkness

  Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour…

  1 Peter 5:8

  Bathwick cemetery lay between Widcombe Hill and Bathwick Hill, quiet and covered in snow. The Smallcombe Anglican mortuary chapel lay close to the corner of Bathwick Street and Henrietta Road, surrounded by discarded and derelict graves, bent and broken. The gas lamp gave light to the black car which stopped before the gates of the cemetery. The snow had stopped falling as Nathaniel and his fellow shadows got out of the car, met by another two shadows who stood at either side of the gates.

  “Is the master present?” Nathaniel asked aloud as he watched Eveline’s lifeless body being pulled from the back of the car.

  “He awaits you in the mortuary my lord,” the young shadow on the left replied firmly.

  “Good,” Nathaniel said. A shadow known as Abilech carried Eveline in his arms, coming to stand before his master. Nathaniel looked down into her pale face and smiled. “Our master awaits.” Turning he led the procession of shadows under the gateway and into the cemetery, the narrow path lined by shadows, all cloaked, their faces hidden beneath their heavy hoods as they held beacons of light high up into the midnight air. A quiet groan erupted from Eveline’s lips as she made her way down the narrow path, towards the Anglican mortuary, filled with a sickly light. Nathaniel held a hand up, stopping the procession. Swiftly he turned to Abilech and studied Eveline, who was now beginning to arouse from her unconscious state. “We must be quick,” he said, turning and picking up his pace until eventually he found himself before the chapel, the large oak doors wide open. Inside the seventeenth century mortuary was a small congregation of shadows, all of whom were encircled around three stone tables. As he entered the chapel fell silent, the group of shadows breaking apart as he and the rest of the procession moved to the centre of the small chapel, its wall and ceilings covered in mosaics and religious art. Nathaniel came to stop before the three stones tables, two already occupied with the bodies of Cael and Belle, both of them unconscious, yet to be awoken. On the ground Nagtium slithered around the tables and his
sed when Abilech came to lay the awakening Eveline upon the middle slab of stone. Nathaniel stood back whilst his followers moulded themselves into the crowd of hissing shadows.

  “Fili, non potes sustinere vim seminis Heidens (My child, not even you can stand against the might of Heiden’s offspring),” Lagar hissed as he walked around the outer core of the congregation, his physical presence hidden behind the bodies of his shadows.

  “Fuerit infusum antivenin, dominium (She has been injected with antivenin, master),” Nathaniel answered, keeping his eyes upon the ever awakening Eveline, whose golden eyes had now begun to open.

  “Materia, solicitus erit sibi Nagtium (No matter, Nagtium will take care of her),” Lagar hissed, stopping in his tracks and turning, the shadows before him parting ways and Nagtium turned his red eyes to his master and hissed aloud, his body shaking with excitement. “Mordetis! (Bite!)” Nagtium nodded and turned, slithering his way up the stone table. Nathaniel looked on as the snake made its way up Eveline’s wreathing body. With a hiss he bite down into her neck, pouring his venom into her jugular vein. Lagar walked towards the centre slowly, smiling as Eveline cried out in pain, the venom overriding the antivenin and causing her body to burn as though consumed by a thousand suns. Her body began to shake violently, as white foam poured from her mouth. The poisonous process went on for several more minutes before her body stilled. Lagar came to her and leaned over, bending his lips down to her ear and whispered. “Awaken.”

  *

  “There not here,” Jophiel said, bent over with her hands upon her knees, her chest pounding and her breathing harsh.

  “I would have thought out of all the cemeteries, they would have congregated here,” Galean sighed, frustration beginning to unravel within. They were losing time and with every minute that went by, Eveline, Theodore and Belle drew closer to death. They had searched four main cemeteries in the centre of Bath including St James Cemetery where they were currently.

  “Where else could they be?” Jophiel breathed, standing up straight and fixing her hair.