by J. F. Penn
Martin nodded. "I think I have a place for you to start. Your old stomping ground, Morgan. Considered by many to be the beginning of the End of Days."
Grand Canyon Snake Valley Retreat, USA
A military helicopter lowered the crate into a massive hole dug into the ground outside the lodge. Wooden slats protected the ancient sarcophagus as it creaked with the strain. Wind whipped the loose earth into flurries around it, obscuring what was within.
Sam's men guided it down into the hole and onto a custom-made trolley. From there, they wheeled it along and down into a specially prepared vault.
Lilith stayed close, her hand resting on its side, her concern like a mother hen for her chicks. She hadn't let it out of her sight on the journey back. She knew something was inside, although that something didn't have a heartbeat and she hadn't heard His voice since the boat.
But then Sam kept the vial of venom close to him and he wouldn't let her have any more until they were sure of the next step. Until he had the other seals.
She glanced over at him as they rolled down the tunnel. He was weak, spineless.
He was not worthy to open the sarcophagus. The serpent had chosen Eve in the Garden of Eden, as He chose Lilith now. The curves of the serpent were her curves. Samael could try to tame the serpent's power, but only she would channel it to glory.
She would have to be careful of Sam, keep him close for now. But in the end, only one of them would stand in front of the Serpent of Serpents.
Sam noted the change in Lilith's posture as the sarcophagus rolled towards the vault. Her steps became a glide and she hovered close, her hands fluttering near the stone as if protecting something precious. He felt her eyes upon him and the hair on his neck prickled with awareness. Could he still trust her? His hand moved instinctively to the vial within his jacket pocket. As long as he controlled her addiction, he could control her.
His phone buzzed. Krait's name appeared on screen.
Sam turned back down the tunnel to answer the call.
"Someone else was there in Ouidah." Krait's voice was harsh over the line, his anger barely contained. "The seal was taken from under our noses. We returned from the forest empty-handed, clearly sent on a wild goose chase, to find the guardian of the temple gone. There was a hole dug in one of the huts. Something was taken." He paused. "I'm wondering if the supposed students in Berlin were those seeking what we are looking for, too."
Sam frowned. He hadn't considered that others might be on the trail. He had backing from powerful groups affiliated with the Vatican, extremist Islam and fundamentalist Jews. They all had a vested interest in bringing forward the End of Days, so it wouldn't be any of them. There was another organization, though … He'd been expecting them.
ARKANE.
Memories came flooding back and he walked back out into the dust of the mesa to clear his head.
With his Egyptian-American heritage, Sam had been an agent based out of ARKANE's New York office, sent to work undercover in Egypt. His mission had been to infiltrate a cell, part of an antiquities smuggling ring. Powerful relics were being passed to terrorist cells in the Middle East, traded as occult objects believed to have great power in the battles to come. Hitler's elite troops had sought artifacts that would influence the supernatural realm; now, those who sought to expel the US and Britain from the Middle East were seeking the same. Sam had believed he was doing the right thing … until that fateful day.
Sam sighed and touched the locket around his neck. It was hidden under his clothes, a sign of weakness he didn't let others see. He thought of Leila, her smiling face, her dark eyes filled with love. But she was lost to him now, her body broken and buried by a targeted bomb from his own country.
They had been out in the desert of Libya, having finally been invited to one of the terrorist camps where the exchange of archaeological objects took place. He had been gathering the final evidence needed to take them down.
A high-pitched whistle, screams and then blackness.
Sam's hands shook as he remembered the terror of waking beneath the crushing sand. His rising panic as he couldn't breathe. Clawing his way up to the surface. Screaming for Leila as burned ash rained down on body parts strewn around him.
He hadn't found her remains, but as one of the few survivors and a stranger, he had been swept up by the surviving militants and taken to a camp deeper in the desert.
The torture was sweet punishment after his loss. He longed for death, begging the men, goading them. They injected him with snake venom and during his hallucinogenic visions, he told them whatever they wanted. He roamed the earth above his body in those times, taken higher by the drugs. It was then that he heard the voice of the Great Serpent for the first time.
His captors didn't believe his story of ARKANE and its quest for supernatural artifacts. They wanted American military spies, hostages they could trade, and in the end, men they could behead on video. Another propaganda win in an unequal war.
When they dressed and hooded him, then dragged him to another room, he had expected it to end with the hack of a jagged blade.
But they sliced away his bonds.
When the hood came off, there was only one other man in a room dimly lit with lamps. A tray of sweet mint tea sat in front of him with two small glasses, typical of Arab hospitality.
"Drink," the man said softly. He sat down across from Sam. "Here, I will show you it is fine." He poured two glasses and sipped out of one. "It's good."
Sam reached out a trembling hand. The first sip was nectar on his parched throat. The man watched him, his dark eyes interested but patient. When the tea was finished, he called for more.
"In the depths of your torture, you called for Leila." The man pulled a phone from his pocket and showed a picture. "Is this her?"
Sam felt tears prick and his voice wavered. "Yes. She died in the drone attack."
"A drone attack by the US government." The man's words were matter of fact. "Your government."
Sam lifted his chin. "I'm half-Egyptian. My father always talked of home, but he was driven out by extremists. So to whom am I meant to be loyal?"
The man chuckled and shook his head. "We live in mixed-up times. Migration and inter-marriage make us all brothers and sisters and yet we still tell stories of murder and injustice by the Other." He leaned forward. "But you are not who we thought you were. The hallucinogens we gave you were based on snake venom. I've used it in smaller quantities myself for the journey trance, but you were able to take much higher doses."
The man reached for his phone again and played a snippet of sound. Sam heard his own voice, or what sounded like his voice, but it hissed and spat.
"It isss time. The Great Serpent awakes. Ssseek his resting place."
"What does it mean?" Sam asked, even as he felt a deep resonance within him, a desire to heed the voice.
The man took a deep breath and grasped Sam's hand. "The thousand years are ended."
A night bird called and Sam found himself back in the mesa on the edge of the Grand Canyon. The wind rustled through the rocky landscape and the chirp of the cicadas anchored him back to the land. That long night of discovery in the Libyan desert had led to this day. If only his mentor Farid had lived to see it. But the Brotherhood of the Serpent now awaited his word, for if the Great Serpent emerged, the End of Days would be ushered in.
The world would be remade.
ARKANE couldn't stop him now because the seals were in reach. Their organization was weak, pathetic, nothing in the face of the powerful allies he had. There were only a few places where the seals could be. He would send Krait to the next location to intercept them.
9
Israel.
Morgan smiled as she and Jake drove north from Tel Aviv along the coast road. The air smelled of salt from the Mediterranean Sea and the fresh scent of pine trees. The sky was blue above and she relished the sun on her face. After the flight from Benin, it felt good to be in control of how they traveled. She pressed
down on the accelerator of the two-seater convertible, reveling in the speed and the wind in her hair. She felt at home in England now, but when she returned to Israel, she knew this place would always be the closest to her heart.
After their parents divorced when she was little, her twin sister Faye had remained in England with their Christian mother, and Morgan had been brought up here in Israel with their Jewish father. The twin sisters were close now and Morgan loved her niece Gemma deeply. But she knew that Faye would never understand the part of her that was Israeli, the part that thrilled to be out in the desert, to be on the knife-edge of conflict and to be part of a history that still played out its daily ritual of blood vengeance. England was undoubtedly safer, but Morgan felt more alive here. Her father was gone now, buried in a graveyard further north in Safed, the Kabbalah heart of Israel, but she still had friends here. She still felt the throb of history in every kilometer they drove.
"Happy to be back?" Jake said from the passenger seat, as he leaned his head back to catch more sun.
"Surprisingly so," Morgan said. "I know it was a little crazy last time we were here." In the hunt for the Key to the Gates of Hell, they had criss-crossed Israel, even diving in the depths of the Dead Sea before Jake had been evacuated from the salt pillars of Sodom in the Negev desert further south. "But hopefully there'll be less shooting this time around."
"So tell me about Megiddo," Jake said. "Why is Martin so sure that there's a seal there?"
"First of all, it's the biblical Armageddon," Morgan replied. "The site of the final battle in the End Times, described in Revelation chapter sixteen. The archaeological dig there has found twenty-six layers of ruins, so it's likely the apocalyptic reputation comes from the number of times it was destroyed and rebuilt due to its strategic location."
They turned off the main highway, heading east towards Nazareth.
"But it's what they've found in the excavations that we're here to see. Serpent cult objects from the Bronze Age, when snakes were used as part of the Canaanite religion."
The sun was low in the sky by the time they drove into the Jezreel Valley and on to the kibbutz at Megiddo, past olive and citrus trees that filled the air with a fresh scent. There was a bigger settlement nearby but they were staying in the more original housing, kept for tourists who wanted a taste of how kibbutznik had lived in the early days of the state of Israel. This particular kibbutz had been founded in 1949 by Holocaust survivors from Hungary and Poland.
A young woman walked out of the guest accommodation as they pulled up. Her long brown legs peeked out of denim shorts and she had a red checked shirt tied around her waist. Her dark hair hung loose around her face, and Morgan caught a glimpse of her own younger days. She and her husband Elian had spent many happy nights up here in the north, when he was off duty from fighting at the front and she could get away from her job as a military psychologist for the Israeli Defense Force.
Their nights had been filled with feasting and song and laughter and they had thought they would live forever. But Elian had died in a hail of bullets in the Golan Heights, defending the country they both loved. Would he even recognize her now? Morgan wondered. She had changed so much since joining ARKANE, and her beliefs and loyalties had been challenged at every turn. She was a world away from the young woman she had been back then.
But she still loved this land with fierce passion.
She and Jake got out of the car.
"Welcome to our home. I'm Rachel," the young woman said. "I'll be your guide to the Tel."
"Is there time before it gets dark to visit the site?" Morgan asked.
Rachel nodded. "Of course. Your organization called ahead. I've arranged for the snake artifacts to be brought to one of the viewing rooms so we can see them after the dig visit." She smiled. "And of course, you'll want to be back for dinner." The smell of garlic and the sound of sizzling came from the kitchens beyond. "My mother is the chef here. Her Orez Shu'it is to die for."
"White bean stew," Morgan explained to Jake as they grabbed their bags from the car. "You'll love it."
"So let's get over to the dig and then hurry back. My stomach's rumbling already."
They jumped in the back of a battered, dusty truck and Rachel drove them the short distance to the dig.
"The city of Megiddo guarded a narrow pass on the ancient Fertile Crescent," Rachel explained as they parked up by the visitor center. "That's why it was so sought after. There's been a settlement here since the early Bronze Age, around 3500 BC. We've uncovered part of what's considered the largest structure in the Near East, so this was a powerful city."
The sun was setting as they got out of the car and looked out across the Jezreel Valley, the deep green of the lush National Park alive with birdsong.
"Amazing to think of the battles that have been fought here," Jake said, shaking his head. "We think our current empires are so important, but we all disappear with the march of time."
"Megiddo has stood for 5000 years," Rachel said. "Come, I'll show you the main dig before it gets too dark."
She led them down some steps into the dig itself, where a path wound through levels of the city, with plaques indicating the time period of each.
"The city gates would have been here," Rachel said. "This area is called the Ivory Palace, as a significant cache of ancient ivory objects and jewelry were discovered here. Some of them are in the visitor center."
She walked on until they reached a circular pit with a metal staircase attached to one side.
"This shaft goes down twenty-five meters and then extends seventy meters west to the spring that kept the city alive when it was under siege. It's an incredible feat of ancient engineering and enabled the city to survive much longer than others of the area."
A metallic smell came up on the air from the pit, a tang of water deep below. Morgan peered down into the dark. How many feet had descended these stairs, she wondered. Had her ancestors trodden these very paths?
"It's too dark to go down now," Rachel said. "But would you like to see the serpents?"
"Definitely," Jake said.
They walked back to the visitor center and Rachel took them into a special, atmosphere-controlled room. She swiped her security pass against the door and they went in. Two long bronze snakes lay in the center of a white table, their surfaces pockmarked with age. Morgan pulled on a pair of white gloves and picked one up. There was nothing on it that matched the seal. The other one was just as plain.
Disappointment welled within her. "Where were the snakes found?"
"In the Bronze Age stratum." Rachel turned to a replica of the excavations, cut through to show the different sections. "Over here. The dig is still ongoing but there are a number of other objects associated with the serpents, currently undergoing testing."
"We're looking for a round stone, carved like a seal. Have you seen anything like that?"
Rachel frowned as she thought. "I'm not sure, to be honest. The dig is jam-packed with objects from all eras. You can't help falling over things, but I can take you into the research area tomorrow when the curator is back on deck. He doesn't like people in there without him." She smiled ruefully. "He's my PhD supervisor, so I have to stay on his good side."
"Of course," Morgan said, with a sideways glance at Jake. "Tomorrow, then."
They drove back to the camp and joined the kibbutznik around the campfire. They shared a meal together and Morgan enjoyed the camaraderie that stemmed from a country surrounded by enemies, people who worked the land together and turned the desert into bountiful produce. The Orez Shu'it was everything Rachel had promised, chased down with a fruity, full-bodied Syrah from the Golan Heights. There were moments when Morgan forgot the mission and just enjoyed being here with Jake and new friends in the country she didn't live in anymore, but still called home.
Later, as they headed back to the guest accommodation, Morgan took Jake's arm, walking close to him through the olive grove.
"We can't wait until tomorrow to se
e if there's a seal in the research area," she whispered. "If it's there, we need to take it and they're hardly going to let us do that during office hours."
Jake nodded. "See you at two a.m., then?" He grinned and the moon caught his corkscrew scar as he turned towards her. "A little night adventure, just the two of us." He pulled Rachel's pass from his back pocket. "This might help."
Morgan smiled. "Good one."
They stopped for a moment and she wanted to lean into him, to feel his hard body against hers. Being back in Israel made her brutally aware of the shortness of life, of how fleeting pleasure could be. And this place, this Armageddon, cast a shadow over her, filling her with a foreboding she couldn't shake.
Morgan pushed the feeling away, and they walked on to the huts.
"See you later," she whispered as they entered the separate rooms.
In the darkness of the olive grove beyond the camp, Krait stood over the body of an unconscious Israeli guard. The man was bleeding and hog-tied but he'd live. No point in causing an international incident … just yet.
He waited until the two had entered their accommodation and then checked his camera. With a long lens, Krait had shot photos of the pair laughing with the kibbutzniks around the campfire. He knew they had one seal from Benin and he ached to repay the humiliation of that loss. It wouldn't take long to slice their throats in the dark, or maybe he'd spend more time on the woman.
But he had to wait.
Krait emailed the photos to Samael with a text. They don't have the seal yet, but it's definitely here. Do you want me to take them tonight?
He sat down in the darkness, one hand on his knife, itching for blood, and waited for the reply.
10
Grand Canyon Snake Valley Retreat, USA
Sam looked at the photos Krait had emailed, the carefree smiles of the two who held one of the seals he needed. With a word, Krait would finish them tonight and he would hold the seals by tomorrow, one step closer to opening the sarcophagus.