Alan Price and the Statue of Zeus (The Nephilim Chronicles Book 3)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Alan turned his back on the man but before he could begin running or flying after Kassidy, Rolf snapped his fingers. He had summoned a creature that took shape right in front of Alan. Alan took a step back from the beast. Materializing out of what seemed like the air itself, a monolithic shape took form in front of Alan. It rose like a tree planted firmly in the ground. The creature was nothing like Alan had ever seen. It was a twisted shape of something that looked like a giant. Standing on its two back legs, it looked down on Alan through a single large brown eye seated in the middle of its forehead. The cyclops was at least three stories high.

  For the first time in the course of the battle, Alan felt fear. Staring into the unnatural beast’s eye, Alan was forced to remember who he was and the mantel of responsibility weighing on his shoulders. If he was going to be the Horseman of War, then there was no room for fear.

  “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Rolf asked as he walked to his creature and rested a hand on her right leg.

  Through his battle with fear, Alan couldn’t help but notice the fatigued tremor in Rolf’s voice. New beads of sweat ran down the demon’s forehead. Summoning a creature of this size must have been taxing for him. Rescuing Kassidy was still at the forefront of Alan’s mind, yet it was clear Rolf would not let him pass without a fight.

  Alan squared his shoulders and prepared for the battle. Bringing his sword hand up, he pointed the tip at the mythological monster then to the demon. “Come then, both of you. If it’s death that you want, let’s get this over with.”

  Rolf didn’t waste time with words. Demon and his summoned atrocity fell on Alan at once. Alan took to the air, avoiding a barrage of nets from Rolf and large swinging limbs from the creature. Alan maneuvered in the open air backing way when he had to, striking whenever he could. Dodging either the nets or the gigantic cyclops’ hairy arms alone would have been a difficult task. Together, the barrage was nearly impossible.

  The Alan sliced through the air weaving in and out of the attacks. The cyclops’ arms that shout out to grab him were each the length of Alan’s body and as thick as tree trunks It was all Alan could do to avoid the attacks. When he did have an opening, he struck with his sword; to his dismay the cuts made were shallow and didn’t seem to phase the monster.

  “Do you need help, Horseman?” Rolf mocked him from below. “I can do this all day.”

  “But you won’t have to.”

  Alan had to do a double-take as the new voice drifted up to him from somewhere below. Through the onslaught of the cyclops’ clawing arms, equipped with long nails that nicked and cut his side and wings, Alan saw Raphael. The sight was so unexpected and unbelievable, Alan had to convince his eyes that what he was seeing was real.

  The Archangel appeared unexpectedly and charged Rolf. A second after Raphael spoke, he tackled the demon and the two men fell to the sand locked in combat. Alan couldn’t help a smile touch his bloody lips. A jab from the cyclops that bounced off his breastplate was enough for Alan to refocus on his own enemy.

  With renewed vigor, Alan spun through the air forming a new plan. Free now to pick and choose his openings, Alan studied the monster. The cyclops was a giant with armor-like thick skin; the only place the morbid beast seemed open to attack was its eye that rested on the middle of its forehead.

  Alan parried another hairy arm aside as he ordered his wings to propel him forward. Aiming straight for the cyclops’ eye meant coming close to the pair of evil looking tusks and sharp teeth that made up its mouth but what other choice did Alan have?

  Spurred on by Raphael’s entrance to the fight, Alan roared as he charged forward. The cyclops welcomed him with an eager grunt of its own. Its breath was paralyzing as Alan caught the rotting odor inside the monster’s open mouth. Alan dodged the cyclops’ two long tusks, each the size of his torso, and moved to the side just in time to avoid the beast’s snapping jaws. Alan landed on the cyclops’ hard head, just above its dark brown eye. Alan knew at this point hesitation could mean death. Summoning the rage inside, he channeled the energy from his wings gathering the force until it crackled and spun all around him. Both hands on the hilt, blade pointed down, Alan drove the sword into the middle of the cyclops’ eye.

  The blade sunk in hilt deep, swallowed by the soft tissue of the giant’s eye. A screech unlike anything Alan had ever heard erupted from the creature as it fell down on all fours. It rolled and writhed on the ground threatening to buck Alan from his precarious position. With all his strength, Alan held on to the sword and continued to channel the energy from his pulsing wings through his body and into his sword. A steaming charred cloud of smoke came from the wound as Alan pushed deeper and deeper.

  Then it was over. With one last exhale, the monster’s buffeting came to a stop. Alan stood on top of the giant, saturated in dark blood and bathed in the awful smell of the cyclops’ burned flesh. Alan disregarded the blade as he remembered Raphael’s own entrance to the fight. Alan jumped off the dead mythological beast and scanned the beach for Rolf and Raphael.

  They weren’t hard to spot. Rolf was standing over Raphael’s body clutching his own head in pain. Rolf screamed in anger as he witnessed the fall of his summoned cyclops. It was clear to see both the demon summoner and his summoned cyclops shared a link.

  Alan didn’t wait to ask questions as he rushed to the fallen form of his friend. Rolf saw Alan coming and backed away in retreat, uttering threats in his wake. Still holding his head, Rolf shouted, “This isn’t over, Horseman. I’ll see you again very soon.”

  As much as Alan wanted to chase the retreating enemy, he knew Raphael needed him the most. The Archangel was a bloody mess. His face was covered in a mixture of sand and fresh blood. Alan dropped to his knees and cradled his friend’s head in his arms. “Raphael,” Alan said trying to fight back the panic he heard and hated in his voice, “can you hear me?”

  Raphael’s eyes cracked and he gave a weak nod. “I’m still here. Apparently, not the warrior I once was.”

  Alan felt relieved to hear the Archangel speak, “Just rest. Don’t try to talk. I’ll get Danielle to heal your wounds.”

  The Archangel struggled to his feet despite Alan’s motions to rest. “Have her save her strength to heal those who actually fought today. I’ll be fine. A few scrapes and cuts never killed me before.”

  Alan stood next to the man in shock. Something had changed. Raphael’s voice was firmer, his back straighter. “Go,” he said waving his arms, “Stop gawking at me. There are wounded who need care.”

  Alan turned to leave but was addressed again before he could take two steps. “And, Horseman,” Raphael said. “I’m sorry for not acting sooner. You were right. We can still help Kassidy. I just need to get my powers back.”

  Chapter 12

  Michael pushed himself off the ground. The base of his skull was throbbing. His vision began to clear as he staggered and battled to regain his bearings. He was still underground in the Shaman’s base; at least, he thought he was. Everything looked familiar except all the vials and scrolls that lined the shelves in the room were now gone. The chamber was completely bare. Likewise, neither the Shaman nor Ardat were anywhere to be seen… Ardat.

  Michael placed both hands on the sides of his head as he pushed through the pain to focus on remembering what happened. The events played backwards through his mind. Eventually, the events leading up to him waking from his unconsciousness were clear, but why? Why would she betray me again?

  A new pain that started at his heart and seeped to his head began. A pain Michael bottled immediately and focused on thinking with his head and not his heart.

  Ardat used him to get to the Shaman and that was the fact. Now he needed to get back to Esther and Seraphim and let them know what happened. Kyle’s trail was lost and he could be in danger. They needed to find Gabriel and they needed to find him now.

  Michael wasted little time in retracing his steps back through the bright tunnel and up to the surface. It wasn’t until Michael reached the section
of the tunnel leading up to the surface that he remembered the odd stone set in place to guard the entrance to the tunnel. Doubt soaked through his veins as Michael hoped beyond hope that the barrier to the surface would open to anyone, demon or angel, from the inside.

  Michael’s wings took him upward until he reached the underside of the stone. Both hands on the rock, he said a silent prayer and heaved. Even at the hands of an Archangel, the stone refused to budge. No amount of force Michael could bring to bear on the rock would move it even a fraction of an inch. Michael’s chest heaved, his face red from effort. Panic pushed through his defenses and wrapped its cold hands around his heart. How could I have allowed this to happen? How could I have been such a fool?

  Chapter 13

  The aftermath of the battle was catastrophic. Angels lay dead by the hundreds with even more wounded. Alan found Danielle in the middle of it all, attending to Esther in one of the few tents that escaped damage. The leader of the angelic army was in worse shape than Raphael. A long cut raced down her left leg and her right shoulder had been dislocated; it rested in a white sling.

  “If you would just let me heal you, you wouldn’t have to be in any pain,” Danielle said raising an eyebrow.

  Esther waived her away, “Go help others who need your abilities to survive. I will live. I’ve been in pain before.”

  Danielle nodded and turned to leave the tent. She passed Alan, as she did she gave him a questioning look as she stared at his wounds. He smiled at her and shook his head, “I’m probably already healed. My skin is still as tough as a rock and the cuts on my face will be gone in a few hours due to my accelerated healing.”

  Danielle sighed, “I know, you’re right. I’m just glad you’re still in one piece.”

  Alan held her gaze a moment longer before she walked out of the tent. “I wish all of us still held the same ability to withstand a blow or blade,” Esther said limping to a wooden table and pouring herself a mug of water from a clear pitcher. “It seems when put to the test, Gabriel’s spell worked. I haven’t seen so many wounded or dead angels since the Usurper’s grasp at power.”

  Alan wasn’t sure what to say. Until recently being injured or dying were just normal parts of his life. He couldn’t imagine what it must feel like for immortal beings to have to face their own mortality.

  Esther didn’t wait for him to talk. “Before, only the Celestial Weapons could kill us: now it seems any weapon or ability will do.” Esther shuddered at the thought before recuperating. “But what is done, is done. We failed to protect Kassidy and we must find her as soon as possible.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Alan said, relieved the captain shared his own thoughts. “I want to go after her now.”

  Esther looked him up and down. Alan was still filthy from the fight; his armor was dented and bloodstained. The majority of the blood on his armor belonged to his enemies, however Alan had not come out of the battle unscathed. “As do I, Alan,” Esther said, “but we need information before we strike blind. I know everything inside you will yell at you to disregard what I’m saying, just please give me a chance. Let me send my scouts to discover where they are taking Kassidy. Then we can strategize.”

  Esther was right; Alan didn’t want to wait. Kassidy was relying on him, on all of them, to help her make this transition. She was still wrapping her mind around what she was; and now she had been kidnapped. “How long will you need?” Alan forced himself to ask.

  “A day,” Esther said. “And don’t worry, Sodom doesn’t want her dead. He wants to use her as an instrument of power. He’ll try to manipulate her so he needs her alive.”

  “One day,” Alan said. “Then I’m going after her with or without you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  A question tickled at Alan’s mind. “Where did Sodom even come from?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Are there just roving armies of demons now?”

  Esther drained her cup and placed it on the table. “The world as we know it is changing. Gabriel’s move for power has sent the demon race into a frenzy. They think the end is coming and everyone is jumping to choose sides. Before Gabriel used the spell, Sodom was a large but still manageable leader of a demon sect. Now demons are flocking to banners as they prepare for a war. The second Horseman has already been chosen. It won’t take long until there is a third, then a fourth and then the final battle that will decide if the Apocalypse comes.”

  Alan nodded, taking a moment to soak in all the details and the ramifications of what this all implied. “So Sodom was acting on his own? Gabriel hasn’t made another move since the spells were enacted?”

  Esther shrugged, “I wish I knew. Sodom didn’t mention Gabriel. My assumption is Gabriel is too weak to make a move. The amount of power it would take to change so much of our world is unimaginable.” Esther limped to the entrance of her tent. “I need to check on my wounded and send out our scouts. I recommend you find some sleep of your own. Like you said, ‘one way or another’, you’re going after Kassidy tomorrow.”

  ---

  Alan wrestled off his breastplate and greaves. To say he was tired would be a disservice to how he truly felt. The only other two feelings stronger than his fatigue were hunger and his desire for a bath. Alan couldn’t even stand to smell himself. He walked down to the edge of the ocean near Raphael’s home removing his clothes as he went.

  Stripped to his undergarments, Alan entered the cold embrace of the ocean. Washing off the stench of gore and grime was well worth fording the cold water. Alan dunked his head under the waves scrubbing at his hair and wondering if things as simple as shampoo existed in the supernatural world. An answer to his question would have to wait as he walked from the beach towards Raphael’s home.

  The smell of something cooking fought back the reek of war that permeated the sandy shore around him. Alan’s mouth was salivating as he reached Raphael’s hut and stepped inside. A fire was lit and lying nearby was a clean set of clothes, a towel and a steaming bowl of food. Raphael was kneeling, fitting together what looked like short pieces of metal or wood. “Food is for you,” Raphael said without looking up. “So are the clothes. We need you ready as soon as possible.”

  Alan decided his questions could wait. He attacked the food as if it were one last surviving enemy from the battle. It could have been anything and Alan would have eaten it anyway; luckily, Raphael had prepared a feast of fish, crab and rice. Alan was so busy in alternating between fork-loads of food and drying and dressing himself, he failed to notice Raphael finally stand, the object he had been tinkering with complete in hand.

  A trident as long as Raphael was tall stood beside him. Silver casing over a solid wooden frame made the weapon as lethal as any spear or sword. Intricate carvings of sea creatures both ones Alan recognized and others he did not played across the weapon and wove around its edges. The three prongs that served as the head of the weapon looked as sharp as they might have been the day they were originally forged. “I promised myself, I would never hold this weapon again,” Raphael said to himself. The Archangel was still a bloody mess; his face having served as a punching bag for Rolf only hours before. But in that moment, the last thing Raphael was concerned with was his appearance. The Archangel was a picture of distraught, his hair disheveled, his eyes wandering. Alan could see an internal struggle tear at Raphael’s mind; promises he made himself would have to be broken, things he swore never to do would have to be done again.

  “You’re doing the right thing,” Alan said. More than anything, Alan wanted Raphael to decide to return to the war on his own; on the other hand, everyone needs affirmation at one point or another. “Kassidy needs you. I understand your dilemma but with your help the world will be a better place.”

  “Will it?” Raphael asked.

  Alan stood back stunned, “Of course. How could you even ask that? You stand for the Light. We are going to rescue an innocent girl from being captured and stop a madman from taking control of earth.�
��

  Raphael nodded slowly still examining his weapon. He lifted the trident in both hands and tested it for balance and weight. Seeing the Archangel and the weapon reunited again was like seeing two old friends meeting for the first time in years. “If we go down this path, I’ll need my powers back. All I have now is my speed, my wings and my immortality—I guess I don’t even have that anymore. I should have been able to deal with Rolf as his equal not as a weakling.”

  Alan didn’t want to seem too excited. These were the words he was hoping Raphael would utter since he found the Archangel at the Statue of Zeus. “How then?” Alan asked trying to contain his excitement. “How do we get your powers back from Gabriel?”

  Raphael’s eyes finally shifted from his weapon to Alan. “I do not know.”

  Alan had to make sure to keep his lower jaw tight. This was nothing close to what he had expected to hear. Kassidy was relying on them to save her, and now Raphael finally wanted his powers back, but he didn’t know how to get them. “Can’t we just do the same thing that you did when you relinquished your powers to get them back?”

  “No,” Raphael said, “if it were that easy, we’d be at the Statue right now.” Raphael examined Alan’s dismay with a twinkle in his eyes. “Do not fret, Horseman. I said I did not know how to regain my abilities; I do have an idea of who might be able to help us.”

  Alan raked his mind for the person Raphael could be thinking of, he came up blank. “Who?”

  “Gideon.”

  Chapter 14

  When Michael heard the stone above him move, he thought he was daydreaming. The Archangel was siting below the entrance to the tunnel mulling over the many reasons he was a fool. Not only did his love blind him to Ardat’s true character, it opened him up to be wounded again. If this wasn’t enough, all those who depended on him to succeed would also be let down. First and foremost, Kyle—who had directly put himself in harm’s way so they might track Gabriel to his lair.