Descent (Rephaim Book 1)

by C. L. Roman

  The pounding continued as he stumbled free of the covers and advanced on the front door. A disheveled Phaella stood on the other side.

  “Gant,” she said.

  “He’s back?” Fomor leaned into the yard and looked around.

  “No,” Phaella shook her head. “Well, he was, but he isn’t here. He gave me a message and then shifted again. I couldn’t stop him Captain, I tried…”

  He leaned against the doorpost and waived her words away, “You couldn’t have held him Phaella, short of an all-out fight. He has his mission. I only hope he won’t try to take Molek on his own.” He waited and Phaella stared at him for a moment before coming back to herself with a start.

  “The message – yes.” Phaella hesitated, a worried expression crossing her features as Danae walked into the hall behind her husband, stopping where she could see and hear without interrupting.

  “Spit it out Lieutenant, I don’t have all day,” Fomor prompted.

  Phaella swallowed hard and straightened to attention to deliver her report. “Lt. Gant reported that, at 0300 this morning, while scouting around the cliff side village, he found evidence of a battle in a forest clearing several miles east of the cave proper. The ground was severely torn and bloodstained. He found four…” She stumbled to a halt and looked past Fomor at Danae, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Continue Lieutenant. He found four what?” Fomor asked grimly, and Danae’s face went white as lily petals

  “Children,” she whispered, sliding down the wall to the floor in a heap, “the monster has killed four more of them.”

  Fomor didn’t wait to see the truth of Danae’s words reflected in his lieutenant’s face. He whipped around and scooped his wife into his arms, carrying her back into their bedroom.

  “Gather everyone at the fire ring,” he shouted over his shoulder “You’ll finish your report there.”

  Tears in her eyes, Phaella hurried away to carry out the command.

  Fomor cursed himself. He’d been thinking like a captain instead of like a husband – and his wife suffered for it. He laid her on the bed but she wasn’t content to stay there.

  “I’m all right Fomor.” She sat up and pushed away the hands that would have gently pressed her back into the blankets. “I can’t hide from this – and you may need me to look.”

  “Not a chance,” he stood over her, arms crossed, shaking his head. “You are done with this Danae. It’s too painful and too dangerous.”

  A short bark of laughter escaped her throat. “A great deal less painful and dangerous for me than for the children he took.” The morning light shone through the thin night dress she wore as she moved past him and pulled a fresh tunic from the clothing basket against the wall. Stretching tall, the woman whipped off the night dress, revealing for an instant the newly rounded curves of her body. Danae pulled a garment of soft, gray, linen over her head, smoothing it into place with trembling fingers. A contrasting sash went around her waist before she picked up a comb.

  “Eight children are dead, Fomor, and that is only a small fraction of the slaughter. He must be stopped, and I’ve no right to cower in my bed while he sheds yet more innocent blood.”

  Instead of replying, Fomor crossed the room to grasp her by both shoulders and hold her still a moment. She looked at him warily as he placed a tender hand upon her waist. “I thought, last night, that the curve of your body next to mine felt – different – somehow. Now I see why. How long have you known?”

  She put her hand over his and looked up at him. Seeing the certainty on his face she didn’t bother denying it. “Not long.”

  “But before the temple.” It was not a question and she could feel the tension vibrating through him. Danae swallowed back the defensiveness, the distress over his anger, and spoke calmly.

  “Yes, I knew. It was clear to me that you wouldn’t have let me help if you knew, so I waited to tell you. I was going to tell you yesterday, but…” she trailed off, vivid memories of the previous morning stealing her words.

  He folded her gently into his arms, resting his cheek on top of her head to hide the sick dread that he knew must show in his expression. But, as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud, she knew his thoughts. Turning in his arms she reached up and cupped his face between her palms, forcing him to look into her eyes.

  “Our child will not be what Astarte is. He will not rise from my womb to kill, maim and destroy. He will be his father’s son, good, and wise and brave.”

  “And you,” he pulled her closer to rest his forehead against hers. “Will you survive his birth?” He shuddered at the memory of the bloody wreckage that was all Astarte had left of her own mother.

  Danae smiled and kissed her husband. “Yes, I will and that of his sisters as well. I have seen it.” She pulled him closer, hid her face in his neck. He did not need to know the things that even she was unsure of. She pushed him away and picked up her comb. “Now go. They are waiting for you.”

  “Let them wait. I’m going to be a father.” Joy and wonder finally made the appearance she had hoped for when she dreamed of telling him her news.

  She laughed and stretched up to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I will be there in a moment, after I have fixed the rat’s nest you’ve made of my hair. Go!” she exclaimed when he laughed and mussed her sable tresses further.

  He left the room and she bowed her head, closed her eyes, grateful for a moment of joy and hope in the midst of such horror. Seven left. Only seven out of twenty laughing, living young ones. She ran a trembling hand over the barely rounded swell of her belly.

  “Do not worry little one. Your father will keep you safe. We will keep you safe.” She picked up the comb and pulled it through her hair, wondering all the while who she was more anxious to convince; the babe, or herself?

  ***

  Approaching the morning fire, Fomor took in the scene and the personal dynamics of those present. Some weeks ago they had cut some timber, cleaned the logs of protruding branches and arranged them around the fire pit. Jotun sat easily on one, with Gwyneth seated, cross legged in front of him, surrounded by the protection of his arms. Next to the couple, Volot and Shahara sat together, yet without touching; a tiny, strange distance between them. Phaella perched face to face with Magnus, holding his hands, talking with quiet urgency. Adahna and Zam leaned into each other, arms and fingers intertwined, serious, waiting in silence for whatever might come.

  Several in the group stood to their feet at his approach. “Sit down, all of you,” Fomor waved them back to their seats. “We will need to think this through carefully before any action is taken. Phaella, your report? Start from the beginning.” He settled on a log to listen.

  Phaella stood, the line of her body taut with restrained emotion. “Gant woke me at first light this morning. He was making a second search of the cave when he heard what sounded like fighting. It was faint and sounded distant. He figured by the type of noise that it might be our monsters, so he followed the sound a couple of miles east into a forested area at the foot of some low hills. It took him a while because the noise stopped before he could pinpoint the location but he found a deserted clearing that appeared to be the battle site. There was blood on the ground and the bodies of four,” her words faltered, clogging her throat with pictures she had no desire to see. “Four children. They had not been completely drained. It looked to him as if they had been bitten and then left to bleed to death.”

  An outpouring of angry protest from the humans stopped her report. The angels kept silent, their faces grim and pale in the early morning light. Fomor raised a hand and the noise died.

  “Continue,” he said.

  After a glance at her captain, Phaella again faced forward and spoke. “He also found a full pack and two empty sacks. He was close enough behind them to determine that there were two shifts, close together, but not along the same line.”

  Gwyneth looked up. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand – along the same line?”

 
Phaella sent an oblique look at Fomor. At his nod of approval, she explained. “You know we can travel through a – a space, if you will, between Earth and Heaven?”

  “Right.”

  “When we go through, you’ve seen the shower of sparks? Well, stepping into the Shift creates a sort of ripple in the atmosphere. And, if we’re close enough, we can sense it.” She took in the confusion on the faces around her and sought for some way of explaining that they could understand. “If you haven’t experienced it, it’s hard to explain, because really it’s not solely audible or tactile – it’s both. The closest comparison I can make is that it’s like a – a buzz or an itch behind the ears. I don’t know whether humans can perceive it or not but to us it’s rather like the sound of linen tearing. Gant heard two distinct tears.”

  “So they’ve split up,” Volot scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s great. Now we have two monsters to chase in different directions.”

  “Wait – how do you know they went in two different directions? If they were fighting each other, mightn’t one of them been chasing the other?”

  “It’s a good point Zam,” Adahna answered her husband’s question. “But if one of them wanted to chase the other, he’d have gone through the same tear. It’s kind of like following a path in the forest; each one has a separate start. If you want to follow someone’s path, you have to start at the same place, and the tears close up quickly.

  Phaella nodded. “Right. Besides, the sounds were too far apart. Gant says he heard the first as he approached the foothills, and the second was what led him to the clearing. He actually saw the last bit of smoke from the second shift, but the tear had closed by the time he got to it.

  “Was he able to recognize the children?” Danae joined the group and sat next to Fomor, slipping her arm through his, leaning into his strength.

  Phaella turned to her. “No. He had seen them in the village before, but he couldn’t remember their names.” She fell quiet as she recalled the look on his face as he admitted that fact. It had torn at him that, having failed to save them, he could not even give them names. “It wasn’t Ziva or Kefir though. He would have known them.”

  “I didn’t see Ziva in the cave. She may already have been dead, cast aside somewhere as they traveled. But I heard,” the sick look on her face deepened and she wrapped her arms around her waist protectively, “Molek said something about Benat having a playmate.” She looked at Fomor pleadingly. “Surely that couldn’t have been Ziva? She’s only a child.”

  Torn between the need to comfort and the fear of giving false hope, he didn’t know what to say.

  “Can’t worry about that now,” Everyone turned toward Magnus, startled, as always, that he had spoken. He shook his head slowly, like a bear shaking off sleep, “It’ll tie us up, keep us from moving, and we don’t have time for that.” He settled back onto the log and patted Phaella on the bottom. “Finish your report, love. We’ve work to do.”

  Exasperation sprinted across her features, but she almost smiled before following his advice. “There isn’t much more to tell. Gant went back to recheck the scene and to bring back the bodies of the children. He was hoping…” she looked up at the assembled company, suddenly reluctant to complete the thought.

  Volot had no such reservations. “He was hoping Benat might come back to feed,” he finished. “Heaven knows he’s scavenger enough to do it. That’s why Gant didn’t bring back the bodies in the first place.”

  Phaella opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, contenting herself with a furious glare at Volot instead. What he said was true, but it hurt to hear it spoken.

  Magnus drew her back down beside him. “Disgusting as it may appear, it was good thinking. There’s nothing to be done for the murdered, but if they can lead us to Benat, or to the remaining children, then their deaths will mean something. Gant knows this.”

  She looked at him gratefully and huddled closer to his side. “That’s it. He gave me the location of the glade, but he didn’t wait for reinforcements.”

  “He doesn’t want to take the chance of the trail going cold,” Jotun said and rubbed Gwyneth’s arms gently. “We can’t afford that either. Captain, I suggest a full force since we don’t know what we’ll be facing.”

  Fomor looked at each face in the circle. They had forgotten. Some of them might not even know. Their focus was completely on saving the children as his could not be. He had to keep all aspects of the game in mind at every moment. Sometimes you couldn’t save everyone. Par-Adis knew this was the worst part of command.

  He rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. “No one will be going.”

  He waited while the storm of protest howled around him. Only Danae was silent. Her face whitened and she looked at him in shock, but a moment later realization overtook her features.

  He place a gentle kiss on her forehead and stood. “Silence.” The quiet word took physical form as every mouth closed. “The urgency of current events has caused us to forget another pressing concern. Something is coming. Something we cannot survive without extensive preparation. We don’t know how much time we have. It may, even now, be too late.”

  “What is coming?” Shahara looked at Fomor, and then back to Volot in confusion and he put his arm around her. She shot him a surprised look, but didn’t protest, snuggling closer to him instead.

  “A flood.” Shahara’s look of confusion was mirrored on every human face and Danae saw that her quiet explanation would not be enough. “A surge of water massive enough to cover the entire Earth for several turnings.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Shahara laughed in relief. “Impossible.”

  Danae only looked at her steadily. “Nothing is impossible with Elohim.”

  Gwyneth looked at her sister kindly, but with skepticism rampant behind her eyes. “You can’t be serious Danae. Where would all the water come from?”

  “And where would it go?” Suddenly finding himself the center of attention, Zam spread his hands. “You said “for several turnings.” That’s hard enough to swallow, but even if we believe you, where would the water go?”

  “She speaks the truth.” Adahna gripped her husband’s hand tightly when he looked at her in surprise. “I was there when the prophecy came to her, I saw truth on her face, heard Sabaoth’s own voice from her lips,” she shivered at the memory of blood tears and luminosity. “Sabaoth sent us a warning through her and we would be fools to ignore it.”

  Another chorus of questions and protest sprang up from the humans.

  Finally, Danae shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t even pretend to have the answers to all your questions. But know this, it’s coming. And if we aren’t prepared for it, we will die.”

  Quiet descended as each individual digested her statement. The humans looked at their spouses for some hint that this news could be denied or ignored, but found none.

  “So,” Fomor stood, bringing the focus back to himself. “There is no use arguing about whether the flood will occur. We are not children to ignore such a thing in the hopes that it will go away. Neither do we know how much time we have to prepare. So, we work with what we do know. Danae said that Sabaoth has commanded Noah to build a boat from gopher wood. I propose that we do the same.”

  “I’ve seen boats in the Shift,” Adahna said and shuffled her feet in the dust, “maybe I could come up with a design that would work. You’re thinking of a single vessel to house all of us? For at least a year?” At Fomor’s nod, she sighed. “That is going to take some doing. We’ll need storage areas and a fair amount of food.”

  A chorus of comments, protests and suggestions arose until Phaella, fairly dancing with angry frustration, shouted above the noise. “Aren’t we forgetting someone!” It was her turn to be stared at.

  Fomor crossed to her, clasped her shoulders in a gentle grip. “I have not forgotten, Phaella. But I cannot ignore the needs of the majority either.”

  “You can’t abandon him.” She twisted free and stood alone. �
��You can’t abandon them.”

  Fomor scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. “Do you think I want to? But there is no time. It’s bad enough to send you into battle with a known enemy…”

  “It won’t happen in an instant.” Jotun’s calm voice broke in and they turned to stare at him. “Well, it can’t, logically. However the water comes, it will take time to cover the Earth and it will fill the low places first. There should be time enough to get back, either by flight or through the shift.”

  “That is all well and good, Jotun, but there are just a few problems,” Fomor replied. “Chief among those problems is finding the children in the first place. If Benat has them, you can be sure he’s hidden them deep or killed them. It will take time to dig them out, if we can do it at all, and that’s a big if. Then you have to consider that we don’t know how much time we have and there is far too much to be done to send five of us off on what could very well be a fool’s errand.”

  “I’d say seven.” Magnus’s quiet statement hung in the air. “Zam and I like a good fight, and have as much at stake as you, more maybe, if you go strictly by blood relation.”

  Phaella reached over and took his hand as he levered himself up to stand beside her.

  Fomor threw up his hands and gave a short bark of laughter. “Seven then, seven of us. And who will protect Danae, Shahara and Gwyneth while we’re out there? Who will build the ark and gather the food and prepare it?”

  “So – don’t send all of us.” Adahna said, with all her usual calm and logic. Of the entire company only she, Zam and Gwyneth remained seated, the others having, at different times, risen to their feet.

  Fomor shook his head. “I considered that. Too small a group has as many problems as too many. For instance – if you find the children and can get them away from Benat how do you propose to get them back here? Only the largest of us can carry more than one human at a time for any distance and taking them through the Shift is far too risky.”