Was anyone ever comfortable with war? She doubted it.
That made her feel marginally better about her own quirks.
Adjusting the cuff of her odd shirt—sand colored, with tiny little scales sewn into the material—Evelyn made final preparations along with everyone else. Ashrael had gifted each of the girls with belts for their waist along with sharp daggers in sheaths. Weapons they didn't normally carry but that might be needed. She'd noticed the blade on hers—and her sister's, she was sure—had the same carvings as the Templar's swords. Evelyn, not well versed in the use of a knife for self defense, nevertheless felt better with one strapped to her hip.
“You're not gonna freeze up out there, are ya?” Alexandra asked. The rough-around-the-edges girl with the wild mane of black hair bumped Evelyn's shoulder with her own. Fading florets of blue and purple decorated Alexandra's cheek and a temple; bruises sustained from an ordeal Evelyn had yet to hear about.
The candor and absolute shamelessness of her sister never failed to amuse her, even in times of crisis. “Not anymore than you.”
It was a little white lie. Those were forgivable.
“I never freeze up. I don't know what you're talking about.” Alex, dressed the same as Evelyn, bent down to tighten the straps of her boots.
“I did shoot Rhett, or have you forgotten?” Evelyn asked, inwardly cringing at the reminder. At the time, she'd thought he'd betrayed her in the worst of ways.
And really, she hadn't wanted to kill him. Just slow him down a little.
Alexandra, still slouched over, turned her head to look up at Evelyn. One blue eye peered past the mane of her dark hair.
Evelyn arched her brows as if to say, what?
“It's Rhett. He doesn't count,” Alex said.
“He does too count.”
“In what alternate universe?” Alex snorted and straightened.
“The point is, I didn't freeze up.”
“And you missed your mark.”
“I wasn't trying to kill him!” Evelyn hushed her words to a whisper.
“I'm just sayin'. You tend to get all...you know.”
“I'm not going to freeze up on you when it counts.” Evelyn knew that much about herself. If it came down to life or death, push come to shove, her or them or her sisters—she would do what had to be done.
It sounded good in theory and she repeated it in her head, a relentless mantra that should kick in by the time she needed it to. The pep talks had worked before.
“I know y' won't.” Alex clapped her on the shoulder like a guy might and squeezed. She wasn't the touchy-feely type, usually expressing her affection in short bursts with long pauses between.
Minna, tucking in the armor-like shirt into the back of her pants, walked over. “Don't worry about it Evelyn. Not everyone was built to be a warrior. We'll all be together and utilize what strengths we have between us when others are weak.”
The oldest surviving daughter of Eve, Minna, with her almond shaped eyes and subtle oriental flair, always had encouraging things to say. Even in the worst of times, when all other hope seemed lost, Minna could be counted on to remain optimistic and positive.
Except for a dark moment in a cave by the Dead Sea with the Sixth Seal in reach. Optimism gone, poised to send the world into another level of armageddon, it was Evelyn who convinced Minna that there was something left to save. All hope was not lost.
Strengths and weakness. Each woman had their own at different times.
Evelyn dotted a kiss against Minna's cheek in gratitude.
“Is everyone ready?” Ashrael, the Guardian of the East Gate, a towering man with black hair and gray eyes, summoned the group of seven.
Four men, three women.
Evelyn took a spot between Dracht and Rhett; the brothers, armored up, held their swords in their hands, prepared to face their destiny.
Ashrael met each of their eyes, decked out in armor of his own, sword sheathed at his hip. At a shade under seven feet, the Guardian stood taller than any of the gathered. He exuded a dominant presence, palpable on the air, an energy that spread out several yards in all directions. Mortals were especially sensitive to it.
He paced a shallow half arc in front of them. Behind him, the enormous gate to Eden arched against a blue sky and beyond, through the broad baroque contour, the fabled paradise stretched for miles. Green, lush, pristine, untouched by smog or destruction or war. It could have been the cover of any postcard or the subject of a masterpiece painting.
Overhead, the yolk yellow sun sent its warm rays across the landscape.
Every now and then, Evelyn caught a look of wonder and awe flicker over the expressions of the Templars. The once mythical Eden had taken on a breathing, living existence that couldn't be denied.
“Use every resource available. You'll need a plane, so tap the Church or whatever else you need to do. Trains, buses and other formal methods of transportation won't be running, not to mention they're a waste of time. If the telephone lines go down, it will make your task twice as difficult. I believe the Fallen will wait another day or two to break the next Seal, so you have that going for you at least,” Ashrael said.
“Will they break the Sixth seal, or begin at one?” Dragar asked.
Three lesser seals had already been broken: black sun, pestilence, rain.
“I think they'll do the Sixth first, create as much chaos as they can, wipe out hundreds of thousands of souls to make their battleground less...crowded,” Ashrael replied. “The earthquakes, volcano eruptions, tsunamis and everything else will prime the population for the coming of the Horsemen. The Fallen will summon them next, perhaps out of order.”
“Why out of order?” Rhett asked. He hefted the shield up to test its weight.
“Again, to create more chaos. They may summon War first because there's already been a pestilence. Once they summon Death, the Fourth Seal, stopping the tribulation will be much more difficult. Death is the final step before breaking Seal Five, which advances the army of the Guardians in the wake of destruction. We'll battle it out with the Fallen for the lives of the survivors.” Ashrael met and held each of their eyes, pacing languidly in front of the gate.
“So if we find Seal Five first, we'll at least prevent all out Armageddon,” Dracht said.
“Depends on your definition of Armageddon. I suspect some people in the world already believe the worst has happened,” Ashrael reasoned.
Dracht grunted.
“How do we find the Seals if you don't know where they are?” Christian asked.
“Using this.” Ashrael took a round disc from a hidden pouch on his armor. Three inches in diameter, burnished gold, with small carvings of the seals on the surface, it resembled a compass without any moving parts. Perhaps a quarter inch thick, the disc had a worn appearance, as if someone's thumb rubbed it like a good luck piece.
None of the men reached out for the object. Ashrael didn't offer it over...yet.
“Does it work like a compass?” Dracht asked. He sounded dubious.
“Whoever has possession will feel a directional pull, if you will. An internal, undeniable sense of where you need to go, where you need to be. Hold it long enough, an hour or more, and the exact location will spring to mind. I know that the closest Seal is in Jerusalem somewhere. Once you arrive in the city, this will guide you straight to it. After that, the next destination will make itself known.” Ashrael handed the disc to Rhett.
The move surprised Evelyn. She thought it would have went to Dragar, being the leader and their father, the Templar with the most experience.
Dracht's former words about destiny slipped through her mind like a whisper. She wondered if it had anything to do with that.
Rhett, hesitant at first, took the disc and automatically rubbed his thumb over the surface. Twisting at the shoulders, he glanced back at the pylons that were the portal between earth and Eden. Giving a curt nod, Rhett met Ashrael's eyes then slid the disc into a similar hidden pocket in his armor.
“If we're too late and they break the Fifth Seal?” Christian asked Ashrael, affixing a final buckle at the side of his armor.
“Drop everything and get back to Eden as quickly as you can.”
†
“How do you feel?” Rhett asked.
Evelyn looked at the tall door between the pylons. “A little nervous.”
“It's part of preparing. Everyone's probably feeling jittery.”
“Are you?” she asked. Rhett's expression gave nothing away. As usual he seemed stoic, sure of himself, confident. Get the job done, get in and get out—and get home.
If there was a home left to come back to.
“I have anticipation nerves.” He met her eyes.
“I'd never know it. You seem as calm as still water all the time.”
“Not all the time.” He arched a brow. “You have to remember that we've done a lot of things in our time as Templars. Which is pretty much our whole life. This is a huge step up from that, but it still resonates the same. We have a job to do—so we'll do it.”
Evelyn marveled over his calm acceptance of everything. Eden, the struggle to get here, and now leaving on a quest that might take one or more of their lives. She'd never met men so dedicated to their cause, adjusting to change with as much ease as some people breathed. She wondered over their training, what kind of tasks Rhett had performed to become so seasoned.
And as focused as he was, he still found time to ask after her well being. Warmth flooded through her, not a new experience where Rhett was concerned, but welcome just now. It affirmed that she'd made the right decision to bring him here, to want to explore a relationship deeper than any she'd ever allowed herself before.
It worried her that Ashrael hadn't let the Templar's eat from the Tree of Life before leaving. Rhett had two shallow bullet wounds to contend with, which put him at a slight disadvantage for battle. The fruit would have helped him heal faster. Now he would have to fight like this.
“Let's go.” Dragar stood by the doorway between the pylons, armed to the teeth, sword in its sheath, shield held in his arm as if he'd been born with it there.
Evelyn touched her fingertips to her lips and pressed them against Rhett's mouth before stepping past him to join the others.
Alexandra was next to Dracht, bouncing on her toes, rejuvenated from her nap, raring to go.
Minna, ever quiet and serious, flanked Dragar with Christian at her back.
As a group they faced the pylons, making last minute adjustments, thoughts focused on their incredible task.
Evelyn reiterated her mantra in her mind: I can do this, battle won't scare me, I have to face my fears.
Rhett touched the small of her back, armor creaking, shield lodged against his arm. Like he read her mind, he whispered, “You can do this.”
“I know,” she whispered back. Once more, she tipped her face to the sun, letting the healing, welcome heat sink into her skin. She caught a whiff of fresh grass, heard the birds chirping happily in the distant trees.
She would do this.
Dragar plunged through the doorway, leading them forward.
Chapter Two
Bleak, dismal, brooding. The atmosphere of Earth knew it was under siege. A depressing, slate gray sky stretched as far as the eye could see, blanketing cities, deserts, oceans. Clouds collected together in such mass that it seemed impossible no rain fell from their swollen bellies. Evelyn sensed the dampness on the air every time she breathed.
The stark difference between this and the sunny landscape of Eden threatened to put a blight on the soul, as if the accumulation emitted a sinister pulse that wrecked all internal peace.
Muddy and soaked from a prior downpour, the terrain sucked at the soles of her boots. Random puddles were obstacles she avoided for now.
Philae, Egypt felt like a tropical rainforest. The Nile pushed against the banks, threatening to overspill across the sandscape surrounding it. In some parts it probably had crested, flooding flatlands or cities or whatever lie in its treacherous path.
The Temple of Isis was still deserted; no people crossed the rising water to the island's shores. And why should they? If the Nile kept rising it would flood the newly named Philae and threaten the Temple with another water burial. No one in their right mind wanted to be on these small islands right now. None except the four Templars and three sisters set on their mission.
Humanity at large had no idea that the gateway to Eden lie through the door in the majestic pylons, that it was the safest place anyone could be.
“Ashrael's right. We need a plane. Do we call Father Valanzano and have him send one or do we go from private strip to private strip here, hoping to find someone to fly us out?” Dragar asked. Father Valanzano was the Templar's liaison to the Church.
Ashrael might have given Rhett the compass, but Dragar took control with experienced ease once they were outside the gate.
Standing between the long colonnades, the group stopped to consider it.
“I say cover our asses. Call Father Valanzano, have him send something—and they will have something because they're prepared for situations like this—and we'll look for a private airport in the meantime. Use the phone while we've got a chance to. If they go out, we'll have no choice but to fly ourselves,” Rhett said.
“We have to have a pilot--” Alexandra started to speak but Dracht interrupted her.
“Dad knows how to fly. Not a commercial plane, but we don't need that anyway.”
“I can fly something small. If it's already out of the hangar, if we can fuel it up, and if we can find keys.” Dragar led them on, bypassing the pool of blood from the Servant of the Fallen.
Evelyn stepped around it, keeping her mind off that particular battle. Rhett had gone head to head with the Servant—and won. His sword prowess along with his fearlessness in the fight—and luck—served him well. Servants of the Fallen, the offspring born from an immortal and mortal mating, didn't have the power or talent of the Fallen themselves but they were not easy to defeat.
The thought of Rhett going up against a Fallen threatened to make her knees weak. Studiously, again, she concentrated on other things. Strategies, travel, what to do if the Sixth Seal was broken. Many variables and unknowns awaited.
Coming out of the Temple, Dragar had a phone to his ear on their way to the docks. They still had to get off the island and back to the mainland.
Evelyn was almost surprised Dragar made it all the way to Philae with the phone intact. He'd been at one of the secure, lesser known Templar strongholds in Athens when Rhett contacted him hours before. The phone came in handy now, when they needed to lean on someone else for transportation.
“Father Valanzano, it's Dragar. Yes. I don't have time to explain other than to say I need you to send one of the private planes as close to Aswan Egypt as you possibly can. If there's one already here up in Cairo someone can fly, all the better.”
Ahead, the T-shaped docks were nearly swallowed by the Nile. Only the very surface showed above the vicious lap of the current and the few boats moored there threatened to either break loose and float away or become hung up on land. The speed boat Evelyn and Rhett had driven over from the mainland was still there, bobbing with its tether pulled taut. It was not new, nor ancient, and an inch of rainwater from the former deluge resided in the bottom. But it would do the job it needed to. There was enough space to fit them all for the short trip across the river.
Piling into the space in the bow, where green and white striped cushions provided seating, Evelyn, Minna and Alex sat next to each other while the men hovered near the driver and passenger seats.
Dragar, silent while he waited for Father Valanzano to work his magic, stood
behind Rhett.
After stabbing in the 1, 2, 3, 4 code on a small keypad, Rhett started the motor and threw off the tie lines. With everyone settled and holding on, he swerved them away from the dock toward the shore.
Evelyn could see flickers of light from distant buildings; it was a relief to know the power was still on. Once the Sixth Seal was broken, if was broken, all communication would be lost.
Alexandra's knee bobbed restlessly, fingers clasping and unclasping or tightening until the knuckles were white. Her expression was more intense and expectant than Evelyn could ever remember. She hadn't had any time to ask her sister about her and Dracht's trip to the Temple—soon. Soon they would have time to trade stories and share details.
A moment later, after quiet murmuring with his head turned away from the wind, Dragar clapped the phone closed.
“They don't have a plane in Egypt, but they have one in Greece and Roman knows how to fly. He'll be leaving the stronghold in five minutes.”
“Do we know where we're meeting him?” Rhett asked. Slowing the speed, he cruised the boat into a slip and Dracht secured the rope to an anchor.
Roman, another Templar in the Order, had interrogated Christian before the pestilence arrived. Evelyn recalled Rhett mentioning his name in passing.
Christian climbed out, nimble in his armor, and held a hand down to the girls to help them up. Alexandra, who had apparently not made total peace with him yet, eyed the hand dubiously before clapping hers into it and hopping onto the dock.
Rhett lifted Evelyn by the waist, broad hands firm on her curves, and set her down next to Alexandra. Minna disembarked before anyone had time to help her.
“There's a private strip in Aswan on the west side. He'll be here in about two-hours, forty-five minutes barring any trouble in flight.” Dragar was the last out of the boat.
The parking lot adjacent to the docks, for owners and visitors, boasted a few more cars than when Evelyn was here with Rhett last. Several compact varieties, a truck, a sedan and a hulking Suburban.
Dragar and Christian led to the way to the pewter gray Suburban and used a code on the door below the handle to unlock it.
Daughters of Eve Collection (Books 1, 2 & 3) Page 49