by Nancy Madore
Long Island, New York
“There’s no doubt that Zeus was controlling the other gods,” said Gordon.
“But how was he doing it?” asked Clive.
“I don’t know,” replied Gordon. “We already figured out that the volcano was acting as a talisman of sorts by tying their souls here after death. It may have been part of their genealogical makeup, built into the body Uranus used to breed them. Uranus was controlling them first—it’s possible that his body was the talisman. Then, when Cronus destroyed Uranus’ body with the sickle Gaia had made from the volcano, the sickle might have become the talisman. And the same for Zeus.”
“So who’s responsible for Poseidon’s sudden reappearance all these years later?” asked Clive.
“We need to find out who trapped him in the ring first,” said Gordon. “Then, hopefully, we can figure that out.”
“Luckily, not many people knew how the volcano worked,” said Clive. “Gaia died thousands of years ago, so she’s out. She taught Cronus the secret, but he was thrown in Tartarus at the end of the war against the Titans, so it looks like he’s out too. That leaves us with Zeus and Hades.”
“And Uranus,” said Gordon.
“I don’t think it’s Uranus,” said Clive. “All the djinn seem to be in agreement that the angels can’t rise up against us humans.”
“Not directly,” said Gordon. “But whoever did this has Poseidon doing his dirty work.”
“It’s the same thing,” argued Clive. “Whoever has the ring is the one in control.”
“He controlled them before,” Gordon reminded him.
“Not against humans, he didn’t,” said Clive. “That was to kill Nephilim.”
“I don’t know,” said Gordon. “I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“I don’t think it’s him,” insisted Clive.
“There are only two choices left then,” said Gordon. “Zeus or Hades.”
“I don’t know about Hades,” said Clive, “but Zeus doesn’t seem like the type to be working with Wessler’s ten.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” said Gordon.
“In fact, of all the gods Poseidon’s mentioned so far, Zeus seems the least likely to be behind a scheme like this.”
“I agree,” said Nadia, who had only been listening up to this point. “He allowed the gods to think they were free when he could’ve forced them to bow before him if he’d wanted to.”
“Look who decided to join the conversation,” said Clive. “I thought you were asleep over there.”
“I was thinking about Japan,” she said. “Poseidon said Wessler’s ten aren’t going to stop trying.”
Clive narrowed his eyes. “Yeah…?”
“We need help,” she said. “And I know where we can get it.”
Clive and Gordon exchanged glances. “Are you sure this is about Japan?” asked Clive. “And not a little girl who’s missing her daddy?”
“We have to do something!” snapped Nadia. “As entertaining as this is, T.D.M.R. could be plotting their next attack while we’re sitting here listening to stories!”
“If your father’s out there, there’s a good chance he’s already plotting his next attack on T.D.M.R.,” said Clive. “He doesn’t need us.”
“I don’t think T.D.M.R. will do anything right away,” Gordon added. “Not while they’re in the spotlight.”
“They’re heroes, remember?” said Nadia. “Another major earthquake will just ensure more funding.”
“So what do you wanna do?” asked Clive. “Blow up T.D.M.R.?”
Nadia eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Yes!” she replied in a challenging tone—though she was mostly just blowing off steam. “That’s what I want to do!”
Gordon and Clive just gaped at her. Their expressions would’ve been comical if she wasn’t so upset.
“I’m beginning to think that you guys are little more than voyeurs,” she said. “You force these djinn to spill their guts and then you lock them away forever. You do nothing with the valuable information they give you.”
“Nadia, you seem to forget that these djinn have a different objective than we do,” said Gordon.
“Since when is keeping this world intact not our objective?” she asked.
“That’s not their only objective and you know it,” said Clive. He turned to Gordon. “Listen to her, talking about blowing up Air Force property and shit.” He shook his head at Nadia. “Girl, you need to take one of your little blue pills and sit down.”
“Okay, so we don’t blow up T.D.M.R.,” she said. “We go after Wessler’s ten. We’ve identified two of them. Why not send Poseidon in to get the names of the other seven before he kills them.”
“Damn!” exclaimed Clive. “She’s serious!”
“Knowing that Poseidon’s out there, Wessler’s ten will have set up all kinds of protections for themselves,” said Gordon. “They might have other djinn standing guard. They’ve probably installed metal plates in their buildings to prevent djinn from getting in, like we did at our headquarters.”
“They’re still vulnerable when they go out in public,” said Nadia. “That’s how Lilith got Wessler—in the parking garage.”
“Yeah, and after that, I wouldn’t put it past these fuckers to have metal plates installed inside their heads,” said Clive. “They’ve got the money to do it.”
“Look,” said Gordon. “After what happened last time, we agreed not to do anything rash, remember? We all have to approve the plan before we act.”
“We need to do more than what we’re doing,” she said. “If not Lilith and Asmodeous, then where else can we turn?”
Gordon looked at Clive. “If I had access to my old intel app I could run a spec search on Nasterson and Dunn—see what they’ve been buying and selling lately.”
Clive hesitated.
Nadia bristled. “So it’s okay for me to risk my ass, but—”
“Okay!” said Clive, handing Gordon his phone. But he raised a finger at Gordon before letting go of the phone. “I don’t want this traced back to me.”
Chapter 38
Delta Junction, Alaska
Beth paused outside the door of Wayne’s secret room. Could she really trust Isabella? Her knowing about the ring seemed to imply that Isabella and Wayne had similar objectives. But her knowing about Wayne’s letter to Beth was the clincher. Wayne and Isabella had to have been working together. Yet there was something about Isabella that Beth didn’t quite trust.
She gripped the gun tightly as she re-entered the room. Isabella was lying down on the couch, rubbing the back of her head. She looked up at Beth as she approached, and then she saw the ring. She jumped up from the couch.
“Don’t get too close,” said Beth, jerking her gun.
Seeing the ring seemed to have infused Isabella with renewed urgency. “Let me have it!” she demanded feverishly. “Let me prove what I’ve been saying by calling Asmund out!”
“No,” said Beth. “You can have Asmund, but I’m keeping the ring until I get Wayne back.”
“But I already told you that I need the ring to free Asmund,” said Isabella through clenched teeth. Beth noticed, as well, that her breathing had increased and her face was flushed. Isabella was having trouble controlling her anger.
“Either I do it or we don’t do it at all,” insisted Beth. She would be damned if she was going to give up the only leverage she had for finding out the truth about Wayne.
Something flashed in Isabella’s eyes—some kind of manic frustration that brought to mind the haunting cry Beth heard in the cemetery. Beth’s fingers tightened instinctively around her gun. “I mean it,” she said, every bit as determined as Isabella.
It seemed as if Isabella would challenge her for a minute, but then—with visible effort—she relented. But she wasn’t pleased about it. Her chin shot up and, if looks could kill, Beth would’ve fallen to the ground. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a similar ring to the one Beth had. She han
ded it to Beth.
Beth’s breath caught in her throat. Was this the ring that held Wayne? Had Isabella had it all along?
Beth stared at the ring, afraid to touch it.
“Wayne?” she whispered.
“No,” snapped Isabella. “Both rings are for Asmund.”
Disappointed, Beth cautiously stepped forward to take the ring from Isabella and then stepped back away from her again. She slipped the second ring on her finger next to the first.
“Now repeat after me,” instructed Isabella, and she began to speak in a tongue so foreign that it sent a shock through Beth’s system just to hear it. The screams of the wild fisher cat in the woods seemed more agreeable to Beth’s ears. Though Isabella spoke slowly—pausing between every four or five syllables—it was a struggle to repeat the sounds accurately, as they extended far beyond the normal range of phonemes used in the English language—or any other language that Beth had heard, for that matter. Beth’s voice sounded foreign to her own ears as it stumbled over the cryptic language used for calling forth souls.
It happened very quickly. Beth had not even gotten used to the feel of the words on her tongue when suddenly a dark mist appeared, rising up, as if from beneath the floor boards. Beth stopped.
Isabella repeated the next few syllables more forcefully.
“I don’t know about this,” said Beth hesitantly.
“You want to see Wayne again, don’t you?” snapped Isabella.
The mist was beginning to fade and, glancing down at the rings on her fingers, Beth remembered that she was the one in control. Yes—she did want to see Wayne again. And suddenly that seemed like a real possibility. There was definitely something inside the rings, and Beth wanted to find out what it was. She repeated the next line, and Isabella resumed with the rest of the summons.
The mist returned with renewed force, growing larger until it reached the ceiling, where it formed a circular pattern as it continued to advance. Isabella’s voice became more insistent as she supplied the next few syllables, even as Beth’s voice faltered and waned, until it was more than a whisper. The mist was starting to take shape.
“Heaven help us!” cried Beth when she saw—not one, but two—heads taking form. “How do I make it go away?” she cried when the rest of the body appeared.
Beth dragged her gaze from the terrifying apparition she had helped conjure to appeal to Isabella—and froze. Her fear seemed trifling compared to the look on Isabella’s face. She was positively glowing, her expression rapturous, her beautiful eyes shimmering with tears of joy, or love, or probably a combination of the two. Something deep within Beth resonated with Isabella’s reaction. A new, stronger hope sprang forth that she and Wayne would indeed meet again.
But even so, Beth couldn’t help wincing as she turned, once again, to look at the soul that Isabella was staring at so adoringly. It was terrifying, but it was heartbreaking as well. What could’ve happened to generate such a soul as this? Did it start out this way, or had it become this over time?
The existence of souls was not an overly difficult concept for Beth to accept. She had always believed that there was a mysterious force within each person that was separate from the body—a kind of invisible energy that merged with the flesh to create life. She could sometimes sense this energy leaving the body when a person died. There were some nurses who swore they could see it. This was what Beth considered the soul, but she’d never given a thought to what it might look like. She thought about it now.
Connected to the two heads was a body that was half man, half dragon, with two enormous wings coming out of its back. Beth tried to observe it objectively. Was this the soul of a noble creature bent on saving the world?
It wasn’t completely inconceivable. Asmund’s soul was intimidating, to say the least, but power, authority and wisdom seemed implicit in its first head, which resembled that of a lion. But there was a wild look in its angry eyes that made it seem terribly dangerous somehow. The second head—which was similar to that of a lamb—was no less formidable. Perhaps it was more so. The anguish Beth saw there seemed to touch something deep within her—possibly her soul—and it felt as if it would remain with her forever.
Was this how Wayne looked?
Isabella, meanwhile, had moved closer to the soul, as if drawn to it. The two stared at each other without words until, finally, Isabella bent her head and wept. Beth’s eyes filled in response.
Asmund murmured something to Isabella in soothing tones. When his soul spoke, it looked as if both heads were speaking in unison, though only one voice could be heard. The voice was strong and authoritative, which made it appear as if it were coming from the lion. Its language was not unlike the one that Isabella had used to expel the soul from the ring. Isabella responded in kind, and Beth wondered if she might be one of these returning souls as well.
It seemed a long time before either of them remembered Beth. Something Isabella said caused Asmund to stop and examine Beth for several long minutes—almost as if he were scrutinizing her soul, just as she had been scrutinizing his just moments before. Then he responded to Isabella in the mysterious language.
“What are you saying?” asked Beth. “Don’t you speak English?”
“Yes,” replied Asmund after a pause. “I speak English.”
“What did Isabella just say to you?” she demanded.
Asmund looked at Isabella in surprise. Then he turned back to Beth. “She asked me if I wanted her to take the ring from you,” he said.
Beth glanced at Isabella, whose expression was cold, though the tears were still on her cheeks.
“And what did you say?” asked Beth a little breathlessly.
“I told her I would rather she did not.”
A chill ran down Beth’s spine as she looked at Isabella again. She was as petite as she was lovely. And yet, Beth suddenly realized that she could’ve overpowered her at any time—even with the gun, because she was one of them. If anything happened to her body, her soul would return. Though perhaps she, too, had rings that she was connected to. Who knew how many of them were out there? Beth was so overwhelmed by these realizations that she didn’t know how to respond.
“Why did you tell her that?” she finally asked.
“Because it’s what Wayne would want,” he said, glancing at Isabella. “He trusts you, so I suppose…Isabella and I shall have to do the same.” He spoke Wayne and Isabella’s names in that same mocking tone that Isabella had used when she said Wayne’s name. It was almost as if it pained them to use the names.
Beth also noticed that he spoke of Wayne as if he were still very much alive. “What is his name?” she asked. “His real name.”
Isabella and Asmund exchanged looks.
“It is forbidden for me to say it,” replied Asmund. “I ask you to reconsider this request. If I tell you, it will put him in danger.”
“But I know your name,” she objected.
“No,” he replied. “You do not know my real name.”
Beth closed her eyes, a little surprised by the enormous disappointment she felt in not hearing the name of the soul that had brought so much joy to her life. But she did not want to put him in danger. She decided to let it go for the moment.
“Do you know where my husband’s rings are?” she asked.
“I have one of the rings in safekeeping,” replied Asmund. “To get the second ring, we will have to find his killer.”
Beth shuddered. “I want you to tell me what you and Wayne were doing before you died,” she said, adding when Asmund turned to Isabella—“Without any help from her.”
Asmund hesitated only an instant. “Wayne and I were attempting to destroy T.D.M.R.,” he said.
“Why?” asked Beth.
“This is going to be hard for you to understand,” he began. “But T.D.M.R. is conducting experiments that are so destructive that they constitute war crimes. Wayne and I believe that their actions will have a larger impact on the world than even they realize. We believe
they are going to trigger an event that will put the entire world in jeopardy.”
“Armageddon?” asked Beth.
Asmund seemed surprised. “Yes,” he replied.
“How do you know all this?” she asked.
“We don’t,” he told her. “I said ‘we believe’ it.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Our conclusions are based on several things,” he said. “The first is a prophecy that we have reason to believe comes from higher beings with a concern in this world’s events. This prophecy coincides with actual events that we’ve seen over the course of our lifetimes, which span thousands of years. It would take days—maybe even weeks—for me to explain all that we know. But I think that you believe some of what I’m saying already. I think you know that Wayne was a good man. And I think you know that T.D.M.R. killed him.”
Beth lowered her eyes. She wondered what else he knew about her. Did he know how badly she wanted a drink at that moment?
Though this was similar to what Isabella had already told her, it was much more compelling coming from this soul who, for whatever reason, was tied to this earth forever. “So you and Wayne have been coming back like this for what…thousands of years?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Has my soul been coming back too?”
“I don’t know what happens to your soul when it dies,” he replied. “It is generally believed that most souls are collected and taken from here.”
Something in the way he said ‘collected’ frightened Beth more than the idea of her soul dying with her body. “Who collects them?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“You mentioned a prophecy of higher beings,” she said, trying to stay focused (her mind was buzzing with questions). “Who are these higher beings and why would they make such a prophecy?”
“The ancient people called them angels,” he said. “They are living, thinking creatures, like humans, but they are a different species.”
“Like…aliens?” she asked, feeling a peculiar urge to laugh. And yet, considering that she was having a conversation with a living soul, was it really all that strange?