A tall, gaunt figure emerged from between the shelves, moving into view. If his skin were any paler, he could probably pass for albino. His white hair was long and straggly and he had a beard to match. But his eyes were black as a shark’s and he fixed a hard stare on the boy.
“Young man, the number of PhDs I have earned likely exceeds the number of years you’ve been alive. You will refer to be as Professor Butler, is that understood?”
The boy swallowed hard and nodded. Sebastian Butler grunted and turned around, gesturing for him to follow. Young Luther was cautious, but continued forward.
“Thomas told me I should expect a new assistant. Now come, into my office.”
Sebastian led the boy into a small room. There were stacks of books on the floors taller than the boy and he moved carefully between them so as not to accidentally knock any over. Sebastian sat behind a small desk and shuffled through the drawers. He produced a pipe and after filling it with tobacco, whispered, “Ignis.” The tobacco quickly flashed and burned and Butler began smoking the pipe.
“Come closer, boy.” Sebastian beckoned the child forward and he moved closer to the desk with uncertainty. While he smoked his pipe, Sebastian examined the boy’s face in careful detail, occasionally uttering sounds like “mmm” and “hmm.”
“You’re a little wisp of a thing, aren’t you,” said Sebastian. “Seems Thomas is more interested in using this detail as a form of punishment than taking my needs seriously. So why don’t we cut to the chase and you tell me what you did?”
“He seems interesting,” said Whitey.
“He was, and unique,” I said, and then listened to the memory of the young version of me recounting the details of the fight with Jeff. Sebastian remained pensive the whole time. Once I finished, he started laughing.
“So Marcus Reynolds’ little bastard got the shit kicked out of him.” Sebastian continued chuckling. “Good.”
“E-excuse me, M—I mean, Professor Butler?”
“Marcus Reynolds was a little asshole when he was a student here and his kid’s no different,” said Sebastian. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I’m glad you taught that little shit a lesson.”
Before that moment, no one had ever talked to me like that, not even Alistair. Sebastian didn’t treat me as a pariah or even as a kid. He talked to me the same way he would talk to anyone else. I’d never felt like anyone treated me as some kind of equal before I met him.
“What’s your name, kid?” he asked.
“Luther Cross.”
“Mmm, right. The orphaned baby Carraway brought to our door. I’ve heard about you.”
“Wh-what have you heard?”
“That you’re quiet, keep to yourself, don’t interact much with the other boys and girls.”
“Oh…” The boy looked down.
But then Sebastian smiled and said, “Those are qualities I like. Too many of these fucksticks walk around like their shit doesn’t stink. More concerned with what everyone else thinks than about the shit that really matters.”
“And what really matters, Professor?”
Sebastian took another draw on his pipe as he gestured around the room. “Look around. Knowledge, my boy. We’ve got access to it all. And more than anything else, knowledge is power. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”
“Master Thomas said I’m not allowed to read any of the books in here, not without permission,” said the boy. “He said it could be dangerous.”
“Master Thomas is a worthless, dickless shitgibbon,” said Sebastian. “It’s not for him to decide what knowledge is and isn’t forbidden. That’s how the powerful have kept the weak down throughout all of recorded history, and even before. When you keep knowledge from the masses, you prevent the masses from rising up.”
“So you’re saying I can read whatever I want here?”
Sebastian nodded. “They’re only words. They can’t hurt you, kid. But just remember that some of the spells in these books, they might be dangerous. Read everything, but hold off on taking action until you’ve mastered the basic skills. Just make sure you complete the tasks I set out for you. You can start by re-shelving those volumes on the floor.”
The boy looked at one of the stacks. “They look kinda heavy.”
Sebastian gave a smirk and said, “I think you’re stronger than you look, Cross.”
“I never found out if Sebastian knew what I was or not,” I told Whitey. “It was the kind of thing Thomas kept quiet from most of the order, except for those at the top. And given how they felt about each other, I doubted if Thomas ever took Sebastian into his confidence. But looking back now…”
“You think he did know,” said Whitey.
I nodded. “Never treated me any different despite that knowledge. He could be an asshole sometimes with the social graces of a drunk biker, but he was like that with everyone. With the exception of Alistair, everyone who knew about what I was when I was growing up treated me like a time bomb. Sebastian was different. Never really realized how different until now.”
I turned my back on Sebastian and looked at Whitey. “What’s this all about?” I asked. “Why am I being shown this stuff?”
“Just the way it is, big guy. You gotta relive your greatest hits before you can start learning to master your powers,” he said.
“Yeah well, I’m getting a little impatient with strolls down memory lane,” I said. “I want to hit the fast-forward button and move on. Remember that there are little things like the fate of the world hanging in the balance here.”
Whitey held up a hand. “Ease up. When you’re ready, it’ll happen. Until then, just relax. Time moves differently here. An hour in this place is like the blink of an eye on Earth.”
I sighed. Seemed I had no choice than to go along with Whitey for now. All I could do was hope that the pace would be a bit quicker from now. I had to get out of here and get back to the real world so I could stop this angel.
14
Shelly watched from a distance as Nimuel went into a trance, seated before a roaring fire. Her hand grasped the gold cross that hung from a chain around her neck. All her life, she’d believed in the teachings of the church, but now she found her faith being tested in ways it had never been before.
An angel wanted her dead so he could claim possession of his child. And the only help she had received came in the form of a half-demon and the devil himself. The irony of it all still had her head swimming with confusion.
The flames died down until they were just embers. Nimuel opened his eyes and stood. He spotted Shelly and rose to his feet, then approached her. She offered a smile and then looked away.
“Trouble sleeping?” he asked.
“Something like that. What are you doing?”
“I was speaking to my abyan, hoping he knew what happened to Luther.”
“And…?” Shelly’s voice was more hopeful than she expected, something that surprised her given her initial reluctance when she’d met the man.
“Well, the good news is he’s safe for now,” said Nimuel. “The bad news is he’s had to go away.”
“Go away? What does that mean?”
“It means Luther has a journey of his own to complete. And so in the meantime, your paths must go separate ways,” said Nimuel. “But I feel that in time, you’ll meet again. Perhaps sooner than you realize.”
“So we have to continue on our own,” said Shelly.
Nimuel nodded. “I’m afraid so. I also haven’t been able to find any information about this angel who’s pursuing you. Whoever he is, he’s been very good about covering his tracks. He won’t be discovered unless he wants to be.”
“Any idea what we should do?”
Nimuel sighed. “I don’t have any answers for you, sister. I was able to perform the protection spell Luther gave me, that should keep you hidden for a time. At least from mystical means of detection. But it won’t last forever.”
“Do you know how long?”
“To be ho
nest, I barely even know what I was doing when I performed the spell.” Nimuel gave a little chuckle. “I wish I could be more help, but this is extremely rare magic. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you wish. I can even send someone into town to pick up your friend. There’s plenty of room.”
“Thanks, Nimuel, that’s very kind of you.”
The new voice drew both Nimuel and Shelly’s attention. Standing behind them was Dakota, a look of grim determination on her face. Shelly moved from Nimuel’s side over to Dakota and put a hand on her shoulder. She studied her friend’s face and noticed the bloodshot eyes.
“You should get some rest,” said Shelly. “If it’s Malcolm, I can watch him for—”
Dakota shook her head. “That’s not what it is. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I heard what you said, Nimuel. About Luther, about the spell, everything. And I’ve come to a decision.” She looked at Shelly again. “I have to go back to Chicago.”
Shelly’s eyes bulged and she immediately shook her head. “No, don’t be ridiculous. If you were listening, then you heard Nimuel say there’s a lot he doesn’t know about this spell. Eden is in Chicago, so is Lust. Points of direct contact between Heaven and Hell. If we’re that close to them, we don’t know if the spell will hold up.”
“Doesn’t matter, I have to try,” said Dakota. “I did hear Nimuel, and if this spell is only temporary, then I need to use that time to try and get ahead of this, to learn something useful. I won’t just sit around and wait for that bastard to find me and my son. I’m done hiding behind other people.”
Dakota smiled at Shelly and put a gentle hand on her cheek. “I’m not asking you to come with me, I can’t ask that. You’ve done so much for me so far and I’m grateful. But this is something I have to do and it’s what I’m going to do.”
Shelly took Dakota’s hand from her cheek and held it in both of hers. “If you think I’m letting you go off on your own, then you’re insane.”
Dakota shook her head. “You’ve more than lived up to your mission, you don’t have—”
“Screw the mission, I’m going because you’re my friend,” said Shelly and then she added with a smile, “even if you are a crazy white girl.”
Dakota smiled back. “Thank you.”
“You’re certain about this?” asked Nimuel, focusing his gaze on Dakota.
She gave a nod. “I am. You’ve done a lot for us, but this is necessary. Luther has some friends in Chicago, people who can help us once we get there.”
“You’ll need papers,” said Nimuel. “Fake passports for all four of you.”
“Charles is part of the Opus Dei, he can—”
Nimuel cut off Shelly. “I wouldn’t rely on those connections. You’re dealing with a rogue angel. The church would be the easiest place for him to find allies.”
“He’s right,” said Dakota. “That’s how this all happened in the first place—the angel used a priest to find me and the other girls.”
“Then what do we do?” asked Shelly.
“I’ve actually expected this to happen, so I’ve been working on something. Hold on just a moment.”
Nimuel excused himself and retreated to his shanty. He came back a few moments later with a small wooden box. Once he handed the box to Dakota, she raised the lid and saw four necklaces—silver chains with small pendants on them. All the pendants featured the engraving of a man with a beard.
“Anthony of Pedua,” said Shelly.
“Patron saint of lost things,” said Nimuel. “I thought it would be appropriate.”
“What do these do?” asked Dakota, taking out one of the necklaces.
“Once you put these necklaces on, it creates a sort of distortion field around you. Lets people see what you want them to see, to an extent,” said Nimuel.
“Luther used to do something similar with his eyes,” said Dakota.
“The magic in the pendants is limited, but it should be enough for you to get through airport security and immigration control,” Nimuel added. “Only put them on right before you go through, though, to preserve the magic for as long as possible.”
“You’re sure these will work?” asked Shelly.
“I am. Just be careful when you use them,” said Nimuel. “And try not to draw any attention to yourselves.”
“Thank you,” said Dakota. “We couldn’t have come this far without you.”
Nimuel smiled and tipped his head. “It’s been my pleasure. But now, try and get some more rest. It’s better to travel in the daylight and you don’t want to risk another encounter with the terrorists on the island. Alvin will take you back in the morning.”
First thing in the morning, Alvin escorted Dakota, Shelly, and Malcolm back to Isabela City. He drove behind them to the hotel where Morrison was staying to ensure their safety. After expressions of gratitude and well-wishes were exchanged, Alvin left them on their own and Dakota and Shelly went up to Morrison’s room. They told him everything that had happened since they last saw each other and about the details of their plan.
He wasn’t very enthusiastic. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”
“We don’t know how long this spell will work, what other choice do we have?” asked Dakota. “Luther’s friends are the only ones we can trust now.”
Morrison sighed. “I don’t know. Are we sure there’s no one else we can talk to? There must be someone up there who Raziel trusted.”
“You want to risk summoning an angel?” asked Shelly.
“No. At least, not yet,” said Morrison. “But if we go to the Opus Dei, maybe we can learn more about him, see if there’s someone who he’s spoken to.”
Malcolm started crying at that suggestion. Dakota gently rocked and whispered to him in order to try and calm him down. She looked up at Morrison.
“We can’t trust anyone associated with the church, Charles. You remember what happened the last time you tried that?”
Morrison looked away, his eyes fixed on the floor. The last time he’d sought assistance from someone in the church, it turned out he’d been working for the angel. Luther’s intervention was the only reason Charles Morrison didn’t die that day.
“I understand your point. But I’m at a loss here,” he said.
“I’m not that thrilled about it, either, but Dakota’s right,” said Shelly. “Luther and his friends have come through for her in the past, they’re the only port we have in this storm.”
“So we’re decided?” asked Dakota, looking at them both. Shelly nodded without hesitation, but Morrison continued staring at the floor. Dakota pushed him a little. “Charles…?”
He gave another sigh but then nodded. “Okay, I’m in.”
“Good. So now the next question, how do we get there?” asked Dakota.
“It will take some time. The closest airport is Pagadian and we’ll have to take a ferry. From there, it’s several hours away by car,” said Shelly. “Even then, we’ll have to fly to Manila first and probably take a few flights to get to Chicago.”
“Then we’d better get started,” said Dakota. “Can you make the arrangements?”
Shelly already had her phone out and started doing just that. “I’m taking care of it right now.”
“Good,” said Dakota. The baby had calmed down and she rocked him a little more gently, trying to get him to sleep.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Morrison.
“Even with these spells, we’ll need some kind of protection. Do you know anything we can use? Anyone not associated with the church between here and Chicago we can trust?”
“I’m sorry, pretty much all my contacts were made through the Opus Dei. And as for protection, that’s more Shelly’s area than mine.”
“What about research?” asked Dakota. “Anything you learned that can help us?”
Morrison looked at the closed laptop computer on his desk. He had been researching the nephilim and had indeed learned some interesting new facts about them. But he also felt that it
wasn’t the right time to share them with her. The less Dakota knew right now, the better.
“Nothing, I’m afraid,” he said.
“Nothing at all?” she asked.
“The records are very spotty, difficult to separate fact from legend, a lot of contradictions. I’m afraid I’m your weak link.”
“It’s okay.” Dakota offered him a reassuring smile.
Shelly interrupted their conversation. “We’re all set,” she said. “I’ve got arrangements made to get us to Manila.”
“And Chicago?” asked Dakota.
“Still working on that one, will take a little more time,” she said. “But we should start out for the ferry port.”
“Just give me a moment to pack up my things.” Morrison went to the desk and put his laptop and a notebook into a bag with a shoulder strap. He turned to them when he was ready and they left the hotel room.
Once they stepped outside the hotel’s front door, there were a few men standing by the car. All of them were young and dressed in black—with clerical collars.
Dakota froze when she saw them and tightened her grip on her son. Shelly took a breath and stepped forward, her hand reaching into her bag and wrapping around the hilt of a pistol.
“There’s no need for any of that,” said one of the priests and he smiled. “We’re not here to hurt you. Any of you. On the contrary, we’re here to help.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” asked Shelly.
“He’s right,” said Morrison. “No one here’s going to hurt any of you, and certainly not the baby.”
“Charles…?” asked Dakota, looking at him with shock as a pit grew in her stomach.
Morrison stepped away from them and moved beside the priests. “My research actually did turn up something interesting, Dakota. Specifically a prophecy. A prophecy that states the child of man and angel will battle the child of man and demon to determine the ultimate fate of humanity.”
“You son of a bitch…” muttered Shelly as she started to draw out her weapon.
The priest held up his hand. “Don’t even think about it, Sister Reyes.” His eyes flashed, conveying power hidden within his body. “It wouldn’t end well for you.”
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