Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  “What I can’t figure out is how you knew Asmodeous to begin with,” said Gordon. “In the first debriefing, you said you lived in Canaan in the fifteenth century, B.C., and that you were killed there, in that same century.”

  “Yes?” said Ornias.

  “Well, Asmodeous lived in Kiriath Arba nearly a thousand years before that,” said Gordon. “He was last seen just before the flood that occurred in the twenty-fourth century B.C., or thereabouts. The dates don’t seem to add up. When did you two meet?”

  Ornias sighed heavily. The grin was becoming unpleasant to observe. “I first met Asmodeous in the mountainous region of what is now Northern Pakistan,” Ornias said. “Closest I’ve been able to guess is the Hindu Kush Mountains, west of the Pamir.”

  “What were you doing there?” asked Gordon.

  “I’d been living in a cave,” Ornias told him. “I was coming down the mountain, heading west, when I came upon Asmodeous and his people.”

  “But what were you doing there?” Gordon asked him again. “Are those mountains even habitable? You weren’t…were you one of the Emim?” Nadia recalled Lilith’s stories of the Emim who lived in the Lebanon Mountains. They were deformed, debauched monsters that had been ostracized from society. She remembered how one night they ventured out from their forest hiding place and somehow made it over the city walls of Jericho to give the people a night of terror that they would never forget. Lilith had led the army that ultimately destroyed the Emim. But perhaps there had been more of them, hiding in other mountainous regions.

  “Certainly not!” replied Ornias, clearly offended.

  “Why then, were you living in a cave in the mountains of Pamir?” asked Gordon. “What were you doing up there?”

  Ornias let out a long sigh, as if accepting the inevitable. After a moment of internal struggle, his features seemed to relax back into the grin. “I was surviving the flood,” he said.

  “Surviving the—!” Gordon glanced at the others. “Do you mean to say that you lived before the flood? You told us you were born after, in the land of Canaan.”

  “No, I said I lived in the land of Canaan,” he corrected. “And I did. Canaan is most certainly one of the many places I have lived.”

  Gordon was momentarily stunned speechless by this new revelation. “So far you’ve been extremely deceptive,” he accused Ornias. “If you keep playing us, we will bury this ring so deep into the earth that even we won’t be able to find it.”

  “I’ve been around for thousands of years!” cried Ornias. “How can I explain every detail of my life in a few hours?” He turned to Will, his voice pleading. “In that first interview you seemed most interested in my present day activities. I answered your questions truthfully. Of course I have knowledge of other things…I need more time if I’m going to tell you everything. I could be extremely useful to you, given the chance...”

  “We’ll be the judge of that,” said Gordon, cutting him off. “Where were you born?”

  This time Ornias only hesitated a second before answering with a little shrug. “I was born in the land of the Haltamti—which would later become the Persian Empire and is now Iran.”

  “You told us that the angel Barakel was your great-grandfather,” said Gordon. “Is that true?”

  “Yes, of course,” said Ornias. “I am bound by the ring to tell the truth. The angel, Barakel, married a Haltamti woman named Zamarmatay. Their firstborn son, Mahway, was the first Nephilim to dream about the war on the Watchers. He was my grandfather.”

  “All right, then,” said Gordon. “We want details, do you hear? No more holding back. If you don’t prove useful you’ll be buried for eternity, got it?”

  “Ask me anything,” said Ornias eagerly.

  “How did the—Haltamti, was it?—people feel about the Nephilim?” Gordon asked.

  “The Haltamti people worshiped us…at first,” said Ornias. “There were two angels who settled with Barakel in the land of the Haltamti. All three were considered gods, and their word was considered ‘truth.’ They taught the people how to read and write, among other things. They called us—their children—‘daeva,’ which meant ‘people of light.’ We protected them. It was perfect.” Ornias paused wistfully. “It wasn’t until later, when the Haltamti people turned on us, that ‘daeva’ would come to signify everything the sons of men feared or despised.”

  “What happened to change it?” Gordon asked.

  “Death,” replied Ornias. “We were not immortal like the angels. We had inherited death from our mothers. Our solution was the beginning of what would come to be known as ‘the lie.’ It wasn’t just the solution itself, but what it did to the Haltamti people. It turned us into a city of secrets. We alienated ourselves from other nations, creating a different language and even cutting off trade that wasn’t absolutely necessary for our survival. An enormous wall was built. No one got in or out without permission. We were like a cult. We didn’t want outsiders knowing what we were doing. We somehow convinced the Haltamti people that all this was for their protection. And for a while they believed us. But…it was a lot for them to accept…especially toward the end, when the solution had become corrupt.”

  “What was the solution?” asked Gordon.

  Ornias looked at Gordon as if he were simple-minded. “Bodies,” he said. He appeared to be warming to the inevitability of them knowing everything now. In fact, he almost seemed relieved. “Of course we couldn’t come right out and tell them that. The Haltamti people loved us, but it was a selfish kind of love. It was based on our strength and protection. We had spoiled them. They had prospered to that point where their tolerance for injustice was low. They would never have agreed to our just taking bodies on demand. We had to make it like a social program, something to appeal to their sense of justice. We called it akimakai. Condemned criminals went in and decent, law abiding citizens came out.” Ornias’ grin almost seemed spontaneous, it so reflected his mood now. “Of course, everyone knew what really happened. But why should they care? They loved and admired the daeva, whereas they hated the person condemned. The punishment seemed to fit the crime.”

  “It was a great plan, in theory,” he continued. “The Haltamti people had some pretty gruesome ideas about law enforcement. Prisoners were punished in the most horrific ways, which almost always resulted in death. Anything would’ve seemed preferable, I suppose. The only problem was that criminals don’t always come in the most attractive packages. A daeva’s desire for a particular type could lead to corruption. All it took was one false accusation. This was what ultimately exposed the lie.

  “But even before the lie there were problems,” he continued thoughtfully. “People were starting to section off into groups. The elite among the sons of men were those who were still in possession of their own souls. The elite among the daeva were those who still occupied their own bodies. Anyone who’d been rehabilitated was considered a druj…a derogatory term to both of the elite groups. We didn’t like it, but what could we do? We all knew we’d get there someday but even so, it was kind of awkward for us, too. We didn’t like to hang around the drujes any more than the sons of men did.

  “Most of us had our drujes picked out, and a few of us had started the drinking ritual that would make it easier for our souls to locate our druj when the time came. For the criminals, the status change was actually a step up. They didn’t even seem to mind.” Ornias paused thoughtfully, as if recalling something in particular.

  “I can’t really pinpoint when it all fell apart,” he resumed after a moment. “It might have been right before the flood. Suddenly we were monsters. Nobody used the word ‘vampire’ back then. Daeva said it all. It represented the epitome of evil. The angels, meanwhile, were called ‘false gods.’”

  “This sounds a bit like Zoroastrianism,” observed Gordon.

  “Much of Zoroastrianism draws from the history of the Haltamti people,” Ornias agreed. “Take their aversion to the concept of reform. This stems from the lie. Almost eve
ry offense from that time forward called for immediate death, leaving the final judgment in God’s hands. And the Haltamti developed horrific methods for expelling souls from a suspected druj, exposing them to all manner of grotesque and fetid matter in order to drive out the daeva. This, too, has been adopted into the Zoroastrian’s concept of hell.”

  They were all listening to Ornias with interest now. Even Gordon seemed content to allow Ornias to speak without interruption.

  “The angels had been working on a solution ever since they realized that our souls remained here, on earth, when we died,” Ornias continued, “instead of following the human souls wherever they go. Yet many of our souls seemed lost to us. The few who managed to get through the barrier took many years.

  “Our fathers knew that the life force of the sons of men exists in their blood. To absorb this life force is to experience—very fleetingly—another soul. Humans are not as conscious of it, but Qliphoth are highly sensitive to other living things. Through their blood, the Qliphoth forges an irrevocable bond with the human soul. This bond is like an open window back into this world.”

  Nadia was struck by the plaintive note that had entered Ornias’ tone. She shuddered, repelled by the blatant longing it revealed.

  “But you were drinking the blood of women when we captured you,” objected Gordon. “How was that necessary…unless you were planning to come back as a woman?”

  Ornias shrugged. “Necessary, no. But addictive, yes.” His sly eyes fell on Nadia. “I apologize if I’m repulsing you,” he said regretfully, as if reading her mind. “I can’t help it. To taste life…is not always necessary. But it brings me the most intense pleasure—particularly with a soul I want to know more intimately. Even though my wives couldn’t fully understand what I was experiencing, they could feel how close it brought us. It’s what women want most of all, is it not, to be known by a kindred soul? For that is love. I didn’t just love them, I became one with them.”

  “You killed one of them,” Gordon reminded him.

  Ornias was silent for a long moment. “I know,” he said at last. His voice was sorrowful. “That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to flee. I think I wanted to be punished.”

  Gordon seemed taken aback. He looked over his notes uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

  “How did this akim…akai program work?” he asked, stumbling over Ornias’ term.

  “The daeva shopped the prisons for a body,” said Ornias. “We tended to outlive humans, so it was pointless to get one unless we were sick, old or about to go to war. The prisoners were like puppies in a pet shop, pleading to be chosen. They knew they would die miserably in prison, whereas with the daeva they’d be treated almost as well as an honored guest. Except that they were a guest who couldn’t leave. And too, there was always the chance that the daeva would outlive them. Criminals are gamblers, in a way, and I think most of them appreciated the odds.

  “Most daeva would drink from their druj-in-waiting,” he went on. “It doesn’t take a lot of blood; just enough to form the connection. It really does make it easier.

  “But then came the abuses. Among the first to do it was Nanghaithya, a female daeva who fed on a druj-in-waiting during her pregnancy. There was nothing unusual in that; pregnancy was risky business in those days. Her choice of druj was the problem. The druj’s name was Izha, and she was as sweet and innocent as a young fawn. Her only crime was being beautiful. Like an exquisite dress in the window, Nanghaithya just had to have her.”

  Ornias’ expression suggested that he knew just how Nanghaithya felt, and Nadia struggled to restrain another shudder, not wanting to attract Ornias’ perceptive eye.

  “This kind of misuse of the akimakai was particularly bothersome to the people,” he explained. “Later, the name of Izha became synonymous with sacrifice. But the truth is that she wanted to do it. She was a poor slave girl when Nanghaithya found her—and probably would have spent her life in dreary servitude. As Nanghaithya, she would be able to live like a queen. Sure, she’d lose control of her body but at least that body would be pampered. And don’t forget, there was always the possibility that Nanghaithya would survive. In which case, Izha could go on living as a druj-in-waiting indefinitely.

  “But Nanghaithya did die and Izha became a martyr of sorts. But that’s not the way it was. You wouldn’t believe how many people were perfectly willing to do it! But, failing that, those that wouldn’t comply were being falsely accused in order to make their bodies available. Women were especially afraid, as the female daevas could be ruthless in their competitiveness when it came to a body.”

  “Did you have a druj?” asked Gordon.

  “Yes,” said Ornias. “His name was Spengha.” He paused, suddenly melancholy. “I haven’t thought about him for many years.”

  Nadia could see that Ornias was deeply moved by the memory. He seemed hesitant to go on.

  Gordon glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late, but we can go a little longer if everyone is cool with that?” he looked around the room and saw that there were no objections. He turned back to Ornias. “Why don’t we start with you and your druj, and go from there,” he suggested.

  Chapter 10

  Fort Greely, Alaska

  The waitress that Amanda and Catherine had nicknamed ‘Flo’ sighed miserably when she saw them sitting in her section. She always kept her blonde hair pulled back in a kind of twist that caused it to puff up the littlest bit on top—just enough to remind Catherine and Amanda of the bee hive a character called Flo used to wear on an old television sitcom called Alice.

  Catherine giggled as the waitress approached. “Shhh…” she whispered. “Here she comes.”

  Amanda couldn’t help noticing that Tommy was also sitting in Flo’s section with two of his friends. “Oh…is this your table?” she asked innocently.

  “As if you didn’t know,” the waitress mumbled irritably.

  Amanda stared at Flo. Was it her imagination, or was she looking (almost) pretty, tonight? Envy rose up in her throat, threatening to choke her. The waitress seemed extra smug too, as if she had something over Amanda. Why was Tommy sitting in her section?

  “What an interesting shade of eye shadow,” remarked Amanda sweetly. “Will you be trying out for the circus later?” She knew it was a feeble attempt, but it was the best she could manage in her present state of mind. Catherine was making a show of trying not to laugh.

  “Speaking of makeup, you really should try the new edible lipstick by Maybelline,” said the waitress. “Maybe then you could become pretty on the inside.”

  Amanda’s mind went blank. Did Maybelline really make edible lipstick? She just stared at the waitress, who was watching her expectantly. She felt a little like a deer caught in the headlights. Though she hated to admit it, that comeback about the lipstick wasn’t half bad. “I’ll have a Sex on the Beach,” she said dismissively.

  The waitress turned to Catherine, who ordered a Fuzzy Navel. Then she went off to fetch their drinks, rolling her eyes.

  “I hate her!” said Amanda through gritted teeth.

  “Oh my god!” cried Catherine, erupting into laughter. “It was all I could do!” And she began to laugh hysterically. Finally she pulled herself together enough to ask—“Why aren’t you laughing?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Amanda miserably. “Do you think she’s as pretty as me?”

  “What!” squawked Catherine, drawing looks from the other customers. “How can you even ask such a thing? Look at her! She’s a cross between the scarecrow and the witch on the Wizard of Oz. Really, Amanda, what’s going on with you?”

  Amanda sighed. “I guess I just need a drink,” she said, glancing at Tommy again. He seemed not to even notice her.

  The waitress came over and delivered their drinks.

  “I love what you’ve done with your hair,” snickered Catherine.

  The waitress smiled. “You girls look like you’re celebrating tonight. Did your I.Q. tests come back negative?”


  This threw Catherine for a loop and she turned to Amanda for support, but Amanda was busy sucking down the last of her drink. “I’ll have another,” she said.

  Catherine stared at her in surprise, but the waitress just shrugged and walked away.

  “She thinks she’s so smart!” Catherine complained.

  “How can I get him to come over here?” Amanda wondered out loud. She was openly staring at Tommy now.

  “Try taking your clothes off,” replied Catherine.

  Amanda was starting to feel a little better. The drink was kicking in, and she saw that Flo was already bringing her another. She accepted the drink without acknowledging the waitress.

  “You could go over there and talk to him for me,” she suggested to Catherine. “Tell him how afraid I am to be alone tonight.”

  Catherine’s face dropped as she lowered her drink. “Nooo,” she whined.

  “It’ll sound better coming from you!” insisted Amanda. “He’s more likely to believe you.”

  “Don’t you think it will seem a little staged, me leaving you here to talk to him?”

  Amanda huffed in exasperation. “I’ll go to the bathroom. Then you go over there, like, you know, ‘Don’t tell Amanda I came over here but I thought you might like to know,’ kind of thing. Come on, Cat, do this for me!”

  “Ugh!” groaned her friend, taking another swallow from her drink.

  Amanda gave Catherine her most piteous look. “I really am too scared to be alone tonight,” she said. “It’s not that unusual for a best friend to talk to said friend’s boyfriend about concerns she has for that friend, is it?”

  “I guess not,” Catherine relented, but she was still clearly put out by the idea.

  “That’s why you’re my best friend!” Amanda announced, beaming. She stood up, gave Catherine a look that said ‘good luck’ and then sauntered over to the ladies’ room.