by Laury Falter
But when Eran’s chin lifted to follow the knife from his neck, it made visible the devastation it had left behind.
The cut opened and blood spilled from Eran, coursing down his chest and on to the man lying below him.
“No…No!” I screamed and my limbs began moving, throwing punches, kicking, hitting, attempting to inflict every bit of harm to Abaddon possible.
Of course, none of it was possible. I was reliving something that had already taken place, the very occurrence that Eran had been trying to warn me about.
Abaddon kicked Eran in the shoulder then, sending his body to the hard ground. From there, he knelt and began sawing at the apex of Eran’s appendages, each slice causing me to weaken, sickening me.
The first appendage fell to the ground and Abaddon went to work on the second, hands bloodied, grunting with his efforts.
When the second one was severed, he leaned forward over Eran who was taking his final breath.
“Thank you. These will look perfect mounted on my wall.”
Then Eran was gone. Killed by Abaddon’s hands.
It was my greatest fear come true, one that I would have done absolutely anything to prevent. And I had watched it unfold in front of me, had felt the movements that brought Eran pain.
I opened my mouth and released the emotions that had been building up, tightening within me, clawing to come out.
The scream raged through my being, from every part of it, a roar of such magnitude it shook me to my core.
It continued on until I was no longer in Abaddon’s body, restricted by his movements, his motives, his destruction.
Suddenly it was my chest caving in, my hands gripping the edge of the cover laying over me, my face contorting against the anxiety of what I’d experienced.
“Magdalene! Magdalene!”
The voice came through from a distance, growing louder and more urgent with each attempt to lure with my name.
“Magdalene! MAGDALENE!”
Arms surrounded me, holding me against a chest firm and strong. They held me there, until I had no breath left in me and my scream came to an end.
But it was Eran’s fragrance that broke through the horror, his gentle earthy scent that brought me to awareness. As it were my very first breath, I drew him in, filling my lungs as deep as they would allow.
“I couldn’t stop him…” my voice mumbled. “I couldn’t…”
“It’s all right, Magdalene…” he stated softly. “It’s all right.”
“I couldn’t stop him…”
Then the weeping began and through the sobs I said the words again.
Eran pulled me away, his hands on my shoulders, dipping his head so that our eyes were level. “You couldn’t have stopped him…You weren’t there.”
“I know but I…”
“If you had been there, I have no doubt you would have tried to stop him…and I would have fought you on it…and you would have ignored me and interfered…and I would have had to fight while keeping an eye on you…and then…”
Eran continued on, his charming English accent melodic to me, pacifying the turmoil inside me until my emotions had ebbed. Even if he were describing the frustration in keeping me from engaging in conflict, it helped.
In the end, I was again leaning against him, my tears streaking down the mass of muscles protruding from his chest and stomach. His hand ran gently up and down my arm, soothing away the tension that had built up since I was dropped inside Abaddon’s body.
“You tried to warn me…to prepare me but I…I had no idea…”
He shushed me quietly. “I never expected you to listen…though I did try.”
“I wish I had.”
“You wouldn’t be you if you’d listened.” He laughed quietly, causing my head to roll with it.
“The worst part…” I swallowed, hating to admit defeat. “The worst part is that it was for nothing. I didn’t find a single clue that we could use.”
My jaw clenched together. “All for nothing.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that…”
This voice wasn’t Eran’s and came from across the room, near the door.
We weren’t alone, we realized.
“She’s fine, Gershom. You can go back to bed,” said Eran, still holding me.
“No,” I said pulling away slightly, though keeping my hands on Eran’s forearm, wanting to remain close. “What do you mean, Gershom? You said it wasn’t all for nothing but I didn’t…I didn’t find anything we could use.”
He sighed and turned on the lights, bringing a groan from both Eran and me. Ignoring it, Gershom walked to a chair across the room and facing the foot of the bed. He sat down, bent forward, his elbows leaning on his knees and his hands clasped together in front of him.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” he said, genuinely apologetic. “But I…I knew what Maggie had seen when I heard the scream.”
“She doesn’t need to relive it,” Eran replied curtly.
“I’m fine,” I insisted but when Eran tilted his head at me with a knowing lift of his eyebrows I corrected myself. “I will be fine. Go on, Gershom.”
“Umm…Maybe I should explain it in the morning.”
Eran and I both groaned at his suggestion and Gershom’s hands flew up in defense. “Okay…okay…”
He collected his thoughts and then continued on gaining confidence as he spoke. “I know Abaddon better than anyone here. Maybe, if you tell me what you saw, I can identify a clue on where he is hiding. Just…something.”
“No,” Eran said with evident disgust of the idea.
“Just a second,” I said. “Maybe Gershom has a point…”
“Recounting what you saw means remembering it,” Eran warned.
“I know…” I said and repeated it when Eran gave me a doubtful face. “I know.”
Before he could oppose further, I went on to describe what I’d seen of Abaddon’s past. Gershom listened intently, nodding at times, his eyes narrowed in thought. Occasionally, my body would shudder at a specific memory, chilling me entirely when I reviewed Eran’s death. When I finished, Gershom considered what I’d told him and then began to speak.
“At the time that Abaddon took the life of the pastor overseeing Maggie’s memorial service and then took Eran’s life immediately after, he wasn’t aware of the repercussions of his actions. I know this because he told me. Only when Abaddon passed on some five years after did it become clear. He was met in the afterlife immediately after arriving and told of his new fate. Then, he was escorted to earth by those who later joined Eran’s army. They dropped him unceremoniously in the cold of winter in the middle of nowhere. And that sealed your fate.”
Eran’s eyebrows furrowed together. “So those who weren’t in my army at the time left him in the middle of nowhere and now he wants vengeance on Magdalene?”
Gershom sighed in frustration. “No…no. I don’t think that’s it exactly. I don’t think this is about Maggie. I’m wondering…if his vengeance might be related to your death. It was your death that was the cause for his fall, Eran. Even though he is the one who committed the act, he blames you for the fall.”
“Wait…” Eran shook his head, attempting to clear it. “Magdalene had nothing to do with my death or the fall.”
Gershom appeared slightly exasperated so he considered how best to clarify his explanation. Then, he stared across the room not at me but at Eran. “I don’t think Abaddon is after Maggie. He never has been. He’s after you, Eran. You are his focus.”
“Me?” Eran’s head jolted back in confusion.
No one spoke. Our heads swiveled back and forth, staring at each other, unable to find the words racing through our minds.
“But his attempts have centered on Magdalene.”
“Yes, and there’s a good reason for it,” Gershom said and then spoke with absolute clarity to ensure his message was clear. “Abaddon can’t feel you.”
Understanding lit up Eran’s eyes. “But he can feel Magd
alene.”
“And where Maggie is, he knows he’ll find you,” Gershom summed it up.
“But…his plans have always involved trying to kill Magdalene,” Eran challenged.
“Because he knows it would destroy you. He feels he has suffered the worst punishment imaginable for himself. He wants to deliver the same fate to you. Maggie’s death would mean two things…Failure as a guardian and that failure would send Maggie to her eternal death. She would pay the ultimate price for your failure and you would live the rest of eternity living with that fact.”
Stunned to silence, we simply stared back at Gershom, who waited for us to process what we’d just been told.
“All this time…centuries…and I thought…” Eran blinked back his amazement. “How could I have not known…”
“I wouldn’t blame yourself,” said Gershom. “Abaddon is conniving and inexplicable. I spent over two hundred years with him and he still baffles me. I wouldn’t expect you to know much about him.”
“Gershom? Can I have a moment alone with Magdalene?”
“Of course, I won’t disturb you again. I’m sorry. I-I just thought…I’m glad we at least understand that much now.”
“And we do appreciate it,” Eran consoled.
“Yes, we do,” I added, nodding vehemently, not wanting him to question what he’d just done. Because, in fact, he’d just given us a better understanding of who Abaddon was and why he acted the way he did.
Gershom left then but not before he returned to his typical sheepish nature, lobbing across the room and clumsily closing the door.
Eran sighed and took both my hands in his, holding them firmly and with such intensity I expected a shock to come through them.
“You are the most important-”
“I know, Eran. You don’t have to tell me.”
He opened his mouth to speak and no words came out.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” I said, already understanding his worry.
“I am the reason you are in danger,” he said, anger brewing beneath the surface.
In an effort to keep it from overflowing, I replied, “He is the reason I am in danger. You are the victim, Eran. He murdered you.” I paused, remembering the image, the pain of watching it happen, and I shuddered against it.
Eran drew me to his arms, wrapping them around me, securing me to him. My own arms slipped around his waist as I tucked my head against his shoulder.
“I’ll protect you,” he reinforced, his breath rustling my hair before he tilted his chin and gently placed a kiss at the top of my head.
“It was somehow easier when I thought he was after just me. I didn’t have to worry as much.” Already my instinct was to protect Eran, an irony considering his defensive skills far surpassed mine.
I guess…now I know what you go through each day,” I whispered against his skin, noticing how worried my voice sounded.
“The fear of knowing someone is intent on killing the one you love?” he asked, restating my thought.
“Yes, it’s a potent emotion.”
Eran sighed heavily. “Yes it is.”
“Watching him…when he slid that knife…that knife across your throat…” I consciously pushed aside the nub growing in my throat. I will not cry, I told myself, repeating it once more before I spoke again. “It was the most devastating episode of my existence…”
Eran responded with a tightening of his arms around me.
“All those times you took my life, even in an effort to save me from final death…I never knew…what you’d gone through. I never understood the horror. But I do now…”
“I’m so sorry you do,” he said, his voice chocked.
“I never want to see it again, Eran. In this body or any other.” I paused then, determination rushing through me. “I’m going back in.”
“To Abaddon?” Eran asked with a jolt. “No, Magdalene.”
Before he could get farther down that path of thinking, I corrected him. “Not Abaddon’s life. I reviewed a good portion of his and found nothing. But there may be a clue in one of his follower’s past lives.”
Eran quieted but remained tense nonetheless. “Sarai…Elam…”
“Achan…” I joined him in unison.
I allowed Eran to come to terms with this new plan before asking something that I desperately needed to know. “Before…Before I go in, I want to know…Did anyone else hurt you? Is Abaddon the only one?” I wasn’t sure if I could handle reliving that pain again.
Eran’s answer was somewhat relieving. “No, Magadalene. Of that group, only Abaddon took my life.”
“Of that group…” I repeated in a mumble. The fact he’d distinguished the end of his lives at the hands of others in that way disturbed me. How much pain had Eran endured throughout his existence?
“Magdalene?” He drew my attention.
“Yes?” I answered softly.
“While the ends of my lives haven’t been…pleasant, the rest of the time was extraordinary…because I’ve spent it with you.”
That brought a smile to my face and I pressed myself closer to his chest, enjoying the rise and fall of his breaths. “Every second with you is a gift.”
He didn’t respond but I sensed him smiling.
Then, as an afterthought and in an effort to prepare me for what was to come, he added, “Please don’t think watching the lives of Abaddon’s followers will be any easier.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t fool myself in to thinking that. I’ve dealt with them enough to know.”
“Yes, you have.”
“I’m not worried so much about what I’ll see as about finding what we need. What if we don’t find a clue and Abaddon attacks again? What happens then? To the Alterums? To us?”
He shushed me quietly. “Let me worry about that. You focus on helping us locate Abaddon. I’ll prepare the Alterums for what is coming.”
“We just need to do it quickly,” I urged softly.
“Yes,” Eran agreed, hesitant. “Our time…” He heaved a deep sigh. “Our time is running out.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SARAI
Knowing our time was limited and that Abaddon could strike us any day, I tried every hour to fall back to sleep. But my last attempt hadn’t ended well and my subconscious was consciously keeping me awake with images of what I’d seen the night before.
Brief recollections of the death and devastation Abaddon had caused flashed before my eyes and, despite the warmth of the room, I shivered. I even tried to read a few of the textbooks that Ezra had brought for me. It didn’t help. Even during intermittent attempts to lie down and fall asleep again, the images would come back…clearer, more distinct. It was maddening.
One good thing did come out of my hours awake, though. I’d already selected the next Fallen One’s scroll.
Sarai.
She had been close to her father and likely spent the most time with him. Therefore, she was the next most likely to provide some clue to his whereabouts now.
Throughout the day, Evelyn checked on me, inspecting my wound with a straight face and leaving me to wonder how well it was healing; my housemates who brought a breakfast of quail eggs and toast – which was surprisingly good; and Gershom.
By the time he visited, he already knew my plan, giving me the information I needed to relive Sarai’s past.
Ever true to his word, Eran joined the Alterums in the courtyard and helped Ms. Beedinwigg reinvent the training process, developing schedules for morning and evening sparing and lunchtime tutorials by Gershom on what to expect from his past cohorts.
With Eran’s assistance, it seemed as if everything came together, the pieces fell in place, and the Alterums began to learn rapidly how to defend against the Fallen Ones.
Later that evening, Eran brought the both of us a plate of food for dinner. Prepared by the cook on staff, the ingredients were decent and familiar.
“Lamb stew and biscuits,” he announced placing the bowl in my hands.
“Thanks,
” I said.
Only the chewing and clanking of our spoons against the bowls could be heard for a few very long seconds. Then Eran’s hand came across the bed, from the edge where he was sitting beside me, and laid on my knee.
When I looked up, his expression was filled with compassion. “Just remember…it isn’t real. You are watching something that has already passed.”
He knew me so well…picking up my nervousness about tonight’s visit to Sarai’s past life.
I nodded, thankful. “Right. It isn’t real…”
“You-”
“I know,” I cut him off before he could say the words. A clue to Abaddon’s hiding place could be close. I couldn’t stop now.
“How are the Alterum’s doing?” I asked, trying to take both our minds off the subject dominating us.
Eran nodded, more to himself but pleased. “Christianson is strong and quick. Agile too. Philius…the short one who looks like a salamander…He’s stealthy…Would be good with reconnaissance…” Eran went on then to describe those who stood out to him in one way or another, defined by either their talent or their personality. It was helpful, not only to get to know the men he was working with and who might one day save our lives, but because it also took my mind off tonight.
Still, when the food was gone and Eran had exhausted his evaluations, there was no avoiding it. As I laid my head down on Eran’s chest, just as I’d done the night before, my eyes refused to close.
The window allowed the moon’s light in and I could see the outline of Eran’s body beneath me, stretching out towards the end of the bed. His legs were long, almost reaching to the point where his heels hung off the side. They were also muscular. Even through the covers keeping the cold off us, I could see their definition, the solid build of a fighter’s body.
While I knew he couldn’t come with me on this visit, I credit him for giving me the strength to dismiss my nerves. He didn’t know it but the very fact that his tough, sturdy body was so close to mine gave me the comfort I needed to close my eyes and ward off the horrible images of Abaddon’s life.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the Hall of Records. Wasting no time, I found and pulled Sarai’s scroll from the wall. It was under ‘P’ for Paris, France, where she’d last died as a human, before falling.