by S. L. Duncan
On a dusty altar in the middle of the room sat a large jar marked with the same pentalpha that was engraved into Solomon’s ring.
“You should prepare the Gethsemane Sword, Micah,” Afarôt said.
She pulled it from its sheath. Its blade reflected the light from the hole and lit her face, shadows defining her high cheekbones and dark eyes.
Afarôt walked to the jar and stood by it, checking its seal.
“Inside this jar is a Druj. It is a lesser Jinn demon. A relic of the First War of the Realms. This one was a prisoner of mine. On the hierarchy of demons, this is one of the least dangerous. Nothing more than a scout. A spy. Though he was quite crafty, as I recall.”
“So why would you not destroy it?”
“The ring has power over demons. There are occasions when a demon’s abilities can be an asset to be exploited. Solomon himself knew this when he built his temple using demons enslaved by the power of his ring.”
The word slave put the temple into a different light.
No wonder they’re pissed.
“Gabriel has fought a demon and gained valuable experience doing so,” Afarôt continued. “It is time, as the saying goes, for you to be in the water.”
“Time to get your feet wet,” Gabe corrected. “You know what? Never mind.”
“This is what I said, is it not?” Afarôt said.
“Shut up, Gabe. Let him continue,” Micah said.
“Yes. As I was saying.” Afarôt turned back to Micah. “Use what you have learned and call upon the energies in your sword to help you achieve a victory. Gabriel and I will be ready to assist when needed.”
Afarôt reached to remove the top from the jar.
“Wait,” Micah shouted, her blade trembling in her hand. “You have to give me more than that. What are the demon’s powers? What are its weaknesses?”
“All part of the test, my dear.” With that, he removed the lid and quickly stepped back to where Gabe was standing.
Nothing happened at first. Then the jar moved, only a bit. Gabe watched as the pentalpha engraved on the jar turned to dust and dissolved onto the cave floor.
An animalistic roar erupted from the jar, shattering it into a cloud of shadow and dust, which expanded into the cave, nearly extinguishing the light.
Something else was now in the cave, breathing. It sounded labored, but angry.
The ring on Gabe’s hand woke to the energy in the room.
Where is Afarôt? Gabe wondered. He seemed to have disappeared into the shadows of the cave.
The Druj moved around in the darkness, moaning and hissing.
The air in front of Gabe suddenly rushed at him. He realized too late that the beast charged. It hit Gabe with all its bulk, sending him hurtling through the air. It was huge and powerful.
This is a lesser demon?
Again, the Druj came at him. In the dim light, Gabe saw a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth bearing down on him. The beast hesitated, as if sensing the ring, its eyes filled with rage and recognition.
As the mouth closed on Gabe’s leg, he felt the familiar tingle of Micah’s energy surging. The Druj bit again but was repelled as blue sparks burst into the air around its head.
It hissed through and was hit by another offensive burst of energy.
In the flash of light from Micah’s power, Gabe saw the body of the demon. It looked like a hellish mix of Earth animals. The Druj was feline in shape but had reptilian features and claws resembling the talons of a hawk. Its wiry tail looked like that of a giant rat. Its head was nothing more than two large jaws attached to a powerful neck.
Fear mixed with determination on Micah’s face.
She hit the demon again with another blue bolt of energy, which struck the beast, knocking it against the far wall.
Her confidence was increasing. The Gethsemane Sword now glowed, a trickle of blue flame climbing the blade from the hilt.
The beast charged at its assailant, furious at her interference. She stood her ground and parried the strike. Her sword met flesh on the beast, severing part of its claw.
Demon blood spilled onto the cave floor, and the Druj roared in agony.
The Gethsemane Sword burst into a roaring flame, startling even Micah, and filled the room with light and flickering shadow.
Now Micah moved to attack. She ran at the beast, sword held behind her for a strike. As she swung the blade, the beast moved with lightning speed, jumping to the wall.
The tail whipped Micah, sending her and the sword in different directions. Gabe heard a loud grunt as she hit the ground.
Without thinking, Gabe pointed the ring at the demon.
Before Gabe could call on the ring’s power, the demon kicked a large stone at him. The boulder grazed his arm and spun him to the ground before exploding against the cave wall.
The distraction, however, had bought Micah time.
In the blink of an eye, she was in possession of the sword once again. She hefted it high, then brought it crashing down on the beast’s head.
The sword cut through the beast’s flesh. The Druj let out a pathetic bark as its gurgling body slumped to the cave ground. It turned to dust right before their eyes.
Micah had succeeded.
From the ground, Gabe watched her as the demon’s dark blood pooled at her feet only to evaporate, floating into the beam of light like crystalline dust. She looked as though she were about to hyperventilate and clenched her fist, letting out a guttural yell like a lioness over her kill.
The exertion of the moment seeped into Gabe, weighing him down. With the dark energy dissipating, whatever boost the ring had given was fading fast, the ache returning to his muscles and the fever crawling over his skin.
“Well done, Micah,” Afarôt said, suddenly appearing from a shadow. “I expected nothing less.”
“Did you?” Micah said through gasping breaths. “Who the hell do you think you are? That thing could have killed us.” She helped Gabe to his feet, his arm over her shoulder. “You okay?” she whispered.
“Spent.” He leaned against her and then shifted over to the wall.
“It could have killed you, yes, but so might lightning from a storm. Both are quite unlikely. That is what you should expect from every being aligned with our enemy: a desperate desire to see your death. If you’re not prepared for it, then you will falter. This is merely one Druj. Face the darkness, and you will likely meet a horde of them. They await the failure of the seal that separates our realm from their own. Armies of them. This is the flood the seal holds back.”
The demon blood on the blade fell away from its metal as the last of the demon disintegrated. Micah returned the sword to the sheath on her back. “I’ve had it with your shite, Afarôt. I want to go back to the facility. Now.”
She turned and left the cave.
“I was only trying to help her see that the ability is within her,” Afarôt said to Gabe.
“We may not know all the things you know about your world, but you don’t know anything about this one. You want friendship and trust,” Gabe said. “But you’ve been lying. And hiding the truth from us. From me. You want us to trust you? Then trust us. With everything.”
Gabe turned and followed Micah through the cave entrance, leaving Afarôt in the dark.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“He’s bloody nuts, he is,” Micah shouted at Gabe as he dropped himself into a chair beside her desk in her small room. The tense silence on the drive back to the facility had been made doubly uncomfortable by the rugged terrain, but at least she was finally saying something. “The nerve. We could have all been killed.”
She threw the Gethsemane Sword on the bed in the corner. Gabe watched her pace back and forth, attempting to wrangle her hair into a knot. She looked like someone who had just stepped off a roller coaster for the first time: frightened and exhilarated.
“I don’t think he would have let it get out of hand, Micah.”
Her hair fell down into her face.
&n
bsp; “Really? Because that didn’t look like control to me. I certainly didn’t have any. You didn’t. Nor did the ring. And I am bloody certain Afarôt was not in control. He’s been rogue ever since we met him in Axum. I’m over his lies and his half-truths. Over. It. That little trinket on your finger? He knows what it’s doing to you. Always has. I’d bet the sword on that.” She bit her lower lip, nodding, before she gasped, her eyes going wide. “And oh, my God! He had a freaking pet demon. A demon . . . for a pet.”
“More like a prisoner than a pet,” Gabe said. Micah talking about the ring had made him aware of it on his finger. He felt the cold rush of sweat climb over his skin.
“Quit defending him,” she growled, trying to tie her hair again. Gabe wondered how much longer she’d keep struggling with it before she just yanked it off her head.
A knock rapped at the door. It opened and Afarôt entered, his apology already written on his face.
“You knock and then someone says ‘enter.’ Prat!” Micah moved to leave the room.
“Please stay. I am terribly sorry for my actions,” Afarôt said.
Micah stopped walking and sat on her bed. She dropped her hair to fold her arms. “If you have an apology, I’ll hear it, but it’ll have to be better than I’m sorry,” she said. “Then you can leave. And do you know what else? This whole assuming a form that is the same age as Gabriel and me isn’t working. You still act like an old codger.”
“I am sorry. You deserve an explanation for my actions. Gabriel, this is for you to hear as well.”
Gabe shrugged. “Go ahead, then.”
“I have been hasty in my teachings. This I know. Sometimes, I forget you are both still only human and that what has preceded these times is not familiar to you. My sincerest apologies for this insensitivity.”
“Insensitive? You’re a bloody train wreck,” Micah said.
“Yes. And I am sorry. I knew Gabriel and Michael. Very well indeed. We were brothers. I fear that when I am around you, I hear echoes of them, and this is not fair to you. For my actions to make sense, you must know the history behind them. This war, you see, is partially my fault. Have you ever wondered why I have been in this realm all this time?”
Micah remained silent, pretending she couldn’t hear his attempt to explain things.
“I always sorta figured it was because you had stayed behind to prepare mankind for the next war,” Gabe said.
“While that has been one of my charges, I only wish it were the true reason. I am banished from the realm of Light. I have been since before the first conflict between the dimensions.”
“For stupid behavior, no doubt,” Micah said.
“To a degree, you are right, Micah. My crime was in my role in the start of the First War. A crime that made me unworthy of many things beyond returning to my home.” His gaze dropped to Solomon’s Ring.
“I thought Mastema started the First War,” Gabe said.
“He played his part. And I played mine. Together we were rewarded with removal from the presence and warmth of creation. For many millennia, I have been bound to this frigid existence.”
Micah cocked an eyebrow, and Gabe leaned in.
“There was a time when the dimensions of Earth and Heaven were intertwined in this space. Woven, moving through time. It was an interconnected, peaceful, and serene existence. Mankind was very young in those years. Very young, indeed.” Afarôt seemed to consider something. “Perhaps it would be better to show you.”
“How do you expect to show us? You got a picture book?” Even with the bite in Micah’s tone, she gave away her interest.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. Stand. Both of you.”
“Again with the bloody orders. Can you ever turn it off?” Micah asked.
“You’re right. Will you please stand and take each other’s hand and mine?” Afarôt asked. He held out his hand. Micah hesitated and then accepted. Afarôt reached out for Gabe, but he did not reach back.
“Take my hand, Gabriel. Do you not trust me?”
“No.”
Afarôt let go of Micah. “No?” Afarôt looked hurt.
“No. I do not trust you. You let me go into the Tabernacle of God. Into the Ark of the Covenant. You let me take the ring. And now, it’s made me sick.”
“How sick?” Afarôt’s expression turned serious.
“I don’t know. Sick. Fever. Chills. The works. Depression. Dysphoria. I feel like I’m rotting in my own skin. And you knew it would do this. You knew, and you let me put it on anyway.”
Afarôt held out his hand. “Give me the ring.”
Gabe suddenly felt a sense of fright over the request, as if he should protect the ring and keep it to himself, even though he knew it wouldn’t come off his finger.
“It is okay. I will give it right back.”
Gabe held up his hand, displaying the red irritation around his ring finger. “It’s part of me now. Won’t come off.”
Afarôt sagged. “I have been so preoccupied with our enemy I have neglected my duties to you both.”
“Why did you want it? I was told never to take it off. Never to give it to another.”
“To prove to you that I have no need for it. The ring is a conduit. A portal to power that exists in the universe. But the power is merely unlocked in the bearer. Meaning it must be inside you for it to be of use. Had you given me the ring, it would merely be a piece of jewelry, lifeless and cold in my hand.
“You must be chosen by the ring. Certainly you remember this? That is why the ring is only of use to you. The enemy does not know this, though to destroy it would play equally to their favor. Throughout the years, the ring would choose a new bearer. I would take it to them. I know the limitations of the weapon, because I am weak to temptation.”
Gabe thought of Yuri, blindly seeking the ring in Durham. And for nothing. What a waste.
“I have tried,” Afarôt said. “Again and again, in hopes of being granted its power to return me to grace. But the ring has never been for me. I have never been worthy. As to what it is doing to you? I knew what it had done to those in the past. But they had been merely human.”
“We’re merely human,” Gabe said. “Micah and I. Human.”
“And yet, you are so much more.”
“You could have warned him about your suspicions,” Micah said. “You should have. He deserved a choice.”
“No. There was no choice to be given. To protect this realm, the ring is imperative.” Afarôt looked at Gabe. “For concealing this truth, I offer you my deepest apology. But Gabriel knew what the cost would be. He knew during his trial in the Ark. And again at the defeat of Septis. Even if he has not acknowledged it himself, at his core, he knew exactly where his path would lead.”
A silence filled the room, and Afarôt seemed to fill with sadness, his eyes glistening. “You feel connected to your lives here. You feel a part. But somewhere inside, my guess is a voice whispers that all is not well. Feelings of discontent spring from your soul, telling you that you do not fit in here. You see, dear friends, we are not meant for this world. This is not our place. It never has been. We are to right that which we have wronged, and then it will be up to the people of the Earth Realm to find the light again.”
Micah turned to Gabe, her face wracked with worry and fear. He knew everything Afarôt had said was the truth, and now she did too.
“How long do I have?” Gabe asked.
“It can be slow once it has bonded to the heir,” Afarôt said. “Or it can happen quickly. Already, you look quite affected. The experience will not be pleasant, I’m afraid. The ring knows its part to play. It will not give you more than you can handle, and it will wait until the task is done.”
“Don’t tell my dad, okay? Don’t tell him it’s terminal.”
They nodded. A tear rolled down Micah’s face. She wiped it quickly and shook her head, embarrassed.
“You were going to show us something?” Gabe said and took Micah’s hand in his. Her soft, slim fingers
entwined with his own. Afarôt offered his hand, and Gabe took it. Micah followed.
“Yes,” Afarôt said. “Close your eyes. When I tell you to do so, open them. You may feel a bit of disorientation, but remain steadfast. The feeling will pass.”
Gabe closed his eyes and felt a rush through his hands, arms, and body. A feeling of vertigo nearly made him fall over. Light spun through his mind. The wind and atmosphere shifted around them. The air felt warm and moist. Yet the ground stayed firm beneath his feet. He was still holding the hands of Micah and Afarôt.
“Now, if you please. Open your eyes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
They were no longer inside Micah’s room. The land before Gabe rolled with grassy hills. Flowery trees grew knee-high from the ground in colonies, which spotted the countryside like an archipelago of color. The sun shone brightly, but Gabe couldn’t feel the heat of its rays. Nor could he smell the grass. The wind blowing through the leaves of the trees had no effect on Micah’s long hair.
“Where are we?” Gabe asked.
“This is a land not known by a name in a time not governed by any modern calendar,” Afarôt offered. “These are the days when the realm of Earth and the realm of Light lived in unity. Doors to the planes of existence were open, and those who were able could walk freely between them.”
“Did we just travel through time?” Micah asked.
“No. What you are experiencing is found in between memory and reality. It is a history of our kind, kept in the depth of my soul. Only I can share it, and only you can experience it through me. While we are very much standing in this field, we are also still back in your room.”
“Why are we here, Afarôt?” Gabe asked.
“We are here so you may learn what no text can teach. Some things will have to be seen to be believed. Here is the moment when the very realm of Darkness was created. The moment when Hell was born.”
Afarôt walked through the grass, motioning for them to follow. Visible just beyond the tallest hill was a small tribal community. Surprisingly sophisticated structures lined the gravel streets. Carved stone buildings, colored like the rock of the land, were built using obviously advanced techniques. Towers reached into the sky several stories, taller than anything Gabe had ever seen in his history books.