“Something’s different about you,” Sarah had observed as they stood side by side in the kitchen. She’d glanced up from the bowl full of eggs she was scrambling and set her sharp, perceptive gaze on Addison.
With a smile, Addison had pulled down the neck of her t-shirt, showing Sarah her mark. “That’s because I am.”
Sarah had grinned, going back to beating her eggs. “I knew there was something. I’m happy for you, Addison. You’ve made a powerful decision. Your life will be forever changed.”
“That’s the goal,” she’d replied with cheer. Just the night before, everything had seemed so bleak. Then Jack came and changed her mind. Giving hope its day hadn’t blown up in her face. It had gotten her what she wanted—a purpose, a way to combat the darkness inside her, a person to call her own … maybe forever.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Micah mumbled, glancing at her over his shoulder. He stood at the gas range wearing an apron ridiculously too small for his wide chest, pouring pancake batter onto a griddle. “Guess you’ve got some sense after all, cher.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’ve got more sense than a monkey’s uncle, that’s for sure.”
Micah had chuckled and gone back to flipping pancakes. Addison had then shared the good news with everyone around the breakfast table. Sitting in the cozy kitchen over pancakes and having people celebrate an accomplishment with her had felt surreal. She was almost loath to leave the little New York townhouse, but they couldn’t avoid what would come next. She told herself that in the days to come, she would cling to the memories she’d made here with these people, with Jack. They would serve as a reminder when things got tough—and she had no delusions that they wouldn’t.
Reniel came for them at nine a.m. sharp with all the travel documents necessary for the trip. Addison smiled as she glanced at her passport.
“It’s good to have friends upstairs,” she murmured.
“There are some perks,” Jack agreed, slinging a duffle bag over his shoulder and taking the one she’d borrowed from Carmen under his arm. Because she and Carmen were of similar size and build, she’d offered to loan Addison more clothes. Addison had accepted with thanks. Taking her own bag as a carry-on, she’d settled in for a long day journaling and sleeping on the plane. Along for the trip came Vivian, who would be needed. The Order of the Seal of Solomon wasn’t just going to let the ring go without proof that Addison had been chosen to use the seal. An Oracle could provide them that confirmation.
“I see our escort has arrived,” Reniel remarked as they neared the baggage claim of Bole International Airport.
The angel approached a rail-thin man almost as tall as him. His skin shone a beautiful shade of copper and he possessed a head full of lush, ebony curls. He extended his arms to the big angel and embraced him, leaning in to kiss him three times on each cheek. The two spoke in hushed tones for a moment before Reniel led the man toward their group.
“Everyone,” he said, “this is Ato Hakim. He is of the Order, sent to greet us and act as our escort.”
“Greetings, and welcome to Africa,” Hakim said with a nod. He didn’t smile, but she liked the kindness of his long face. He approached Vivian first. “You have the mark of an Oracle,” he observed.
Vivian flashed a polite smile and extended her right hand. Just between her thumb and forefinger sat a small, raised circle that looked like a burn or birthmark at first glance. Addison had noticed Carmen bore the same mark.
“I’m Vivian Bennett,” she said. “And yes, I am an Oracle.”
He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, bowed over it in reverence. “It is an honor, Weizero Vivian.”
She leaned toward Reniel and whispered, “What did he call her?”
“It is a form of address for a married woman here,” Reniel hissed back. “Men are Ato, unmarried women are Weizerit.”
Addison fell silent as Hakim greeted the rest of their group. He shook hands with the men and greeted them, taking his time and asking them about their trip. He came to Addison last. He studied her with unmasked curiosity, his dark eyes assessing.
“And you must be Weizerit Addison,” he said.
She extended her hand to him and he took it, shaking it with confidence she did not feel. “I am. Thank you for meeting us here. I know there are doubts about me, but—”
“No, no,” Hakim chastised with a click of his tongue. “First, we will make you comfortable and see to your needs—rooms, food, and drink. Then, we will discuss the important matter. In the meantime, it is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh, um … you, too,” she said, unsure of how to talk to this man.
“Ethiopian greetings are always very formal,” Reniel told her as they waited for their bags to arrive on the carousel. “And the men and women of the Order are especially traditional. They may not seem warm, but Hakim is a kind man who is dedicated to the cause. You will grow used to their ways.”
“I know all about hospitality,” she quipped. “I’m from the South, after all.”
It didn’t take them long to retrieve their bags. The moment they left the airport, two identical black sedans rolled up to them. Addison had always pictured Africa much in a different way … but then, she’d also known it must be more than what you saw on T.V. or in National Geographic. Addis Ababa was a huge city, one of the largest in the world, Hakim told them as they navigated the main thoroughfare, Churchill Avenue. The city resembled a jumble of architecture, with skyscrapers as tall as any in New York.
She gasped and pressed her face against the window as they pulled up to one of the most beautiful buildings she’d ever seen.
“Oh, my God, what is this place?” she asked.
“We have come to the Haile Selassie Church. It is also known as the Holy Trinity Cathedral, if that is simpler for you to remember,” Hakim answered from the front seat.
Jack and Micah glanced out from beside her at the sprawling, gray stone church looming over them. Sculptures of crosses and angels stretched toward the sky from the parapets, and pillared archways led the way inside. A massive, dome-topped structure sat behind the square front of the church. The intricacy of the architecture took her breath away with its detailed carvings in hypnotic, curving lines and scrolls.
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured as the car circled around behind the church.
“Haile Selassie has been the home of our order since the nineteen-fifties,” Hakim told them as the driver parked. “The danger of what we have been tasked with has required us to relocate several times to keep the Seal out of the reach of those who seek to use it for evil. In the catacombs beneath this cathedral, we live peacefully—protecting always that which our order has been entrusted with.” They left the car, following Hakim to a side entrance. “I must ask that you remove your shoes before entering, for this ground is sacred,” Hakim added, slipping out of his own sandals as they paused at the entrance. Addison obeyed, pushing her sneakers into her bag.
Reniel and Vivian joined them, having followed in the second car, and the group entered the church as one. They all fell silent as they found themselves in the massive sanctuary, surrounded by more pillared archways, painted ceilings, and stunning, stained windows. Addison imagined the place must be even more beautiful when the sun shone through the multi-colored glass. Behind each archway lay a window, in which was fixed a stained-glass scene from the history of the Bible. She stared at them one by one—the temptation of Adam and Eve in the garden, Noah and the ark, the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist, the Last Supper, and the crucifixion of Christ. This place was a feast for the eyes, and everywhere she looked, she found something new to wonder over.
Hakim spoke in passing to them about the history of the church, and how it was built to commemorate Ethiopia’s liberation from the occupation of Italy. Beyond the church, he told them, was a burial ground where those who had fought for Ethiopian freedom were buried. The two large, stone crypts located near the front of the church h
eld the remains of Emperor Haile Selassie and his wife. Hakim told them that Haile was responsible for opposing the occupation by Italy, as well as pushing widespread reform and modernization in Ethiopia.
“And now,” Hakim said as they reached another door situated behind the church’s altar, “we will proceed into the catacombs. This requires us to walk through the crypts, where more of the Imperial family are buried. The experience can be unnerving for those who have never been in such a place, but I promise you, we will not linger.”
He opened the door to reveal a dark, narrow staircase that curved at a steep downward incline.
Exchanging a glance with Jack, Addison slipped one hand in his and held on tight as they stepped into darkness and began to descend.
15
The Seal
Jack hadn’t known what to expect when Hakim had told them that the Order of the Seal of Solomon had taken up residence in underground catacombs. Maybe a few dark, damp caves where the men and women of the order lived like monks. As they’d descended the staircase, it had seemed his assumptions were correct, at first.
But then, Hakim had led them through yet another stone door at the end that took them into a place as beautiful as the cathedral above.
Cloisters carved from gleaming wood yawned above them, and marble tiles shone below. Tapestries bearing the colors of Ethiopia, and many likenesses of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, lined the walls. The queen, Jack could see, represented a great source of pride for the Order. He remembered Reniel telling him that Ethiopians prided themselves on their lineage, as they were certain they descended from the Queen of Sheba’s son by King Solomon, Menelik.
Men and women passed them on either side, wearing white robes embroidered in brilliant gold and that swept the floor. However, Hakim did not greet them, and they did not acknowledge him or his guests. They seemed busy at some sort of prayer, their voices ringing out in a hypnotic chant in a language he could not identify. The tones all mingled until they sounded like one, reverberating from the high ceilings and echoing down the long corridor.
Hakim wasted no time escorting them to a suite of rooms all connected to a single living area. The furniture was opulent and beautiful, made from carved mahogany wood and rich damask upholstery. Jack and Micah were given quarters to share, while Vivian and Addison took the room next door. Reniel took a third, smaller chamber for himself, though Jack doubted he would use it. Angels only ate or slept to pass time or because they enjoyed it—not because their body needed sustenance or rest.
“Now this is what I’m talkin’ about, podna,” Micah said with a wide grin as he and Jack explored their room. Two large, queen-sized beds with massive oak posters stretching up toward the ceiling took up two corners of the room, with several chairs, couches, and tables filling in the rest of the space. Their private bathroom had a shower stall with granite tiles and a large tub big enough for five, with water jets. “They couldn’t ’a done better had they put us up at the Ritz.”
Jack inspected the mantle over a large, stone fireplace, and the solid gold figurines lining it. “I shouldn’t have been surprised. The Order descends from one of the wealthiest men in the history of the world, and the Queen of Sheba wasn’t exactly hurting for money, either. These people have expensive taste.”
Micah fell back onto his back with a sigh of ecstasy. “Ahhh, wake me when it’s time to eat.”
Micah’s nap didn’t last long. After a short time, someone knocked on the door and entered, arms brimming with traditional Ethiopian clothing and with a summons to dinner in one hour. The guys took turns in the bathroom showering and dressing, and by the time their escort returned, had dressed in the provided clothes. Jack was surprised they’d been able to find garments to fit Micah’s oversized frame. He looked nothing like his usual, laid back self in the rich, all-white ensemble. He wore identical pieces, consisting of pants, a tunic that hugged his chest and waist before falling away to the knee, and a rich vest that was also white, but embroidered with scarlet thread. They encountered Addison and Vivian in the sprawling living area connecting their suites. The ladies had dressed in traditional, white Ethiopian garb, as well. Both their gowns were white and trimmed in the same rich red. A white scarf fringed with red tassels covered both their heads and wound around their necks.
Someone led them back through the winding, ominous halls, and to a dining room just as opulent as the rest of the underground compound. A long table big enough for at least fifty was already occupied by twenty men and women in white robes. At the head of the table sat the woman Jack assumed must be the head of the Order. Of the entire table full of white-garbed people, she was the only one wearing all scarlet. From her headwear to her gown, she looked like a ruby queen presiding over her white court.
Their group sat down, and dinner was served—a far less formal affair once everyone had been introduced. He couldn’t remember half the names of the people he met, but they were friendly. Laughter and conversation flowed without strain as they served themselves from large dishes shared by groups of four. They found no utensils, and all foods had to be eaten with the right hand, using flat bread to scoop up spicy meats, pastes, vegetables, and other things Jack couldn’t name but which tasted like heaven. Sweet, honeyed wine was served, and afterwards, the best coffee he’d ever had. Café Du Monde had nothing on this.
With the meal over, they were escorted from the dining hall to an adjoining room with no furniture and only thick, patterned rugs and cushions, which they were told to sit on. The cushions had been arranged in a large circle, and in the center sat a small, square, golden altar no bigger than a footstool. Jack recognized the markings on either side as the Seal of Solomon—the symbol engraved into the ring endowed with the power they needed to defeat Eligos and his ten. The Seal was everywhere, he noticed—on the walls, the rugs, on tapestries hanging from the ceilings, as well as the red scarves each member of the order produced from beneath their cushions and hung around their necks as they knelt. He followed suit, and so did the rest of their party as they joined the Order. Reniel knelt beside him, silent and stoic as he observed the proceedings.
The red-garbed woman stepped into the center of the circle, turning to look them each in the eye as she spoke. A short, plump woman with deep, ebony skin and glittering dark eyes, her presence proved commanding.
“We have gathered here tonight to discuss a matter of utmost importance. For millennia, our Order has protected the ring bearing the Seal of Solomon. Yahweh was forced to strip the ring of its power when King Solomon went against his commands, but we were promised another bearer of the ring in time … His appointed. And now, the time has come. Demons have overstepped their bounds and dared to go against the boundaries set for them at the dawning of this war. The Great Duke and his horde must be stopped. The angel Reniel has informed me that the chosen one is in our midst. I do not need to remind you all of how many imposters there have been over the years. It is our duty to protect the ring, while still abiding by the will of Yahweh. An Oracle has been brought into our midst, and she will offer us the proof we require that one, Weizerit Addison, is indeed the chosen one. Come forth, both Oracle and chosen ring bearer.”
Addison helped Vivian to her feet, and the two met the priestess in the center of the circle. She gestured toward the little golden altar.
“Kneel, and join your hands upon the altar.”
The red priestess backed away from the two kneeling women and folded her hands in front of her. Addison and Vivian clasped hands and rested them on the golden surface.
“Weizero Vivian, I know that as an Oracle, you are bound to tell us the truth of what you find in the heart of this young woman. It is for this reason that we trust you to tell us what you see when you peer into her soul.”
Jack caught the almost imperceptible tick of Addison’s jaw and the widening of her eyes. She darted a glance at him, and he gave her a reassuring nod. Relax, he mouthed to her. Addison must be scared to death of what Vivian would find when s
he looked inside her. An Oracle had the position to strip away every layer of a person and discover the truth about them. All of her secrets would be laid bare. By the time it was over, his great-grandmother would know more about Addison than Jack did. However, he wasn’t worried. He was still discovering all there was to know about Addison, but what he did know encouraged him. She was the one, just like Reniel had told them, and soon, the gathered members of the Order would know it, too.
Vivian tightened her grip on Addison’s hand and dark, coffee-colored fingers intertwined with apricot. The gnarled, veiny hands of his great-grandmother were still strong as she gripped Addison’s and held on tight. All at once, the irises of her eyes faded and a white glow emanated from them, illuminating the whites, as well. Addison started, but didn’t move or let go as Vivian leaned forward, staring deep into her eyes.
For a while, no one spoke, and no one moved. Everyone on the outer edge of the circle sat in silence and watched as the two women gazed at each other. After a while, Vivian began to tremble. At first, it started as a small shiver, and increased into full-fledged tremors that wracked her slight body.
Jack clenched his fists in his lap, determined not to move a muscle. An Oracle’s power often manifested in odd physical symptoms. The dutiful great-grandson in him wanted to make sure she was all right; the Guardian knew better. Vivian would tear him a new one if he interrupted one of her trances.
Addison had grown afraid. Her gaze darted around the circle as she seemed to silently ask what was happening. Jack hoped she found reassurance from his level stare.
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