by D B Nielsen
‘I can only think of one who will be able to interpret the message and may be willing to help us ... for a price.’ Gabriel smiled sardonically, confirming my worst fears. ‘And we are already on our way to see him.’
MAGI’S GAMBIT
CHAPTER EIGHT
Though it was still some hours before midnight, the moonlit hills of Rome were like a train of white elephants in the distance. The night held a mystical, misty luminosity and it seemed, as the private jet banked to land upon the runway, that we were being beckoned by glowing will-o’-the-wisps that floated like shining clouds, dancing upon the horizon, and darting amongst the silhouettes of buildings and dark trees. I wondered if the tempting invitation the wisps whispered to change my fate would lead me astray, leaving me lost and alone, or fulfil my dreams.
Fi lightly dozed in a plush, cream leather bucket chair beside me, gaining a brief respite on our strenuous journey. No sooner had we arrived in Venice’s Santa Lucia Station than we were whisked to a small hangar at the far end of Marco Polo Airport where, behind an enormous corrugated metal door, was a sleek white executive jet, fuelled and waiting to bear us to Rome. It was early evening with the onset of sunset when we departed from Venice; the sky a similar colour and milky texture to the swirl of berry yoghurt I’d eaten that morning at breakfast on board the Orient-Express, which now seemed a lifetime ago. The plane’s streamlined engines powered us skyward whilst, beneath us, the grand canals dropped away with startling speed. Our company had now swelled to a half-dozen and the Anakim were busily discussing tactics whilst Fi and I changed clothes and rested. The fun was well and truly over.
‘Gabriel,’ Kal said quietly from where he was seated behind us as the plane landed upon the private airstrip on the outskirts of Rome, taxiing to a halt beside what seemed to be a newly-built hangar. ‘I sense something evil lurking out there.’
Kal was one of three appointed Anakim bodyguards who had covertly accompanied us on the Orient-Express. He was of a similar age to St. John, and in his youthful face was a kind of candid friendliness and trust which gave the false impression that he was an empty-headed young man. Yet, on closer inspection, it was hard to miss that beneath his ruffled reddish-gold hair, his piercing blue eyes flashed with intelligence and purpose.
‘Wait. What?’ Fi roused herself at the mention of evil and jerked upright to face Kal where he spoke in hushed tones with Gabriel.
‘Can you feel it? The darkness? It is coming, my friend,’ Kal repeated – and I was immediately reminded of Macbeth: “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.” and gave a slight shiver.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, darting like quicksilver back and forth until they focused upon an object in the distance, too far for the human eye to see. After a moment in which he stared deeply into the misty night, he stiffened and, drawing in a sharp breath, muttered a curse.
‘It’s Louis and his thugs.’
Kal swore. ‘Sooner than we anticipated. I thought – hoped – we might have thrown the Rephaim off our scent in London.’
‘Will they attack us?’ Fi asked quietly.
‘Without doubt.’ Gabriel’s voice was tense.
Now it was Fi’s turn to curse, and he raised a brow. ‘My luck’s been crap lately, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
Gabriel shrugged in his familiar manner.
‘How could I not? You forget, I was there, at least upon more than one occasion. But you’re still alive,’ he pointed out.
Fi just shook her head, vexed at his nonchalance.
Another Anakim came forward from the rear of the plane to address the others. This one was big and burly with the frame of a rugby player and a mop of thick, coarse hair, his accent betraying the many years he’d lived in South Africa. Yet he was more like a gentle giant, and looked upon my sister and me as if we were babes in the woods and he our big brother. ‘We could separate and hold them off. It may buy you some time. Give you a chance to do what needs to be done.’
‘No, Pen,’ Gabriel answered quickly. ‘We don’t dare separate. I would suggest that is what they are hoping we will do. They will do all they can to prevent us from reaching our goal.’
‘Then why haven’t they struck a deal with Elijah themselves?’ I interjected. ‘Or, if he refused, why didn’t they kill him or bury him down there or something? It makes no sense. They had to know we were–’
‘Yes.’ There was agreement but no discussion.
Fi frowned. ‘Sage is right. Why didn’t they do something before now? Or maybe they have? Maybe we’re walking into a trap?’
He shook his head. ‘Je sais pas. I’m not entirely certain.’
‘So what does that mean? Don’t we have eyes on the ground – watching the enemy or watching Elijah? What do you expect to find when we get there?’ demanded my sister, hands on hips, mirroring my frustration and anxiety.
Gabriel did not answer her questions.
Kal’s open face held concern. ‘Do you think they will attempt to ambush us at the mouth of the tunnel? It would be the most logical thing to do. It’s what I would do in their position.’
His face drawn in angular planes that showed an equal unease, Gabriel responded, ‘Exactement.’ He couldn’t have made it clearer had he tried.
Pen, obviously something of a tactician himself, offered his advice, ‘Brothers. We’re not far from the catacombs. And we can’t stay on this plane forever. I suggest that we make a beeline for the old foundations of the way station. They used solid building materials – travertine stone and iron clamps – and some of the walls are still standing. It will make a suitable barricade to establish a line of defence.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Kal said, readying things for a swift departure.
‘I agree. Sounds promising,’ Gabriel approved.
‘It would get us out of this plane, at least. We’re like sitting ducks in here, despite the angelic warding,’ Fi grumbled, staring nervously out of the plane window in an attempt to see what they saw, but to no avail.
The speed with which the Anakim moved was astounding once they had finally decided on a course of action and, within moments, Pen had thrown open the fuselage door and the jet’s automatic electronic stairs gently dropped down, smoothly unfolding like a mechanical limb.
The darkness of the landscape loomed around us and a rank smell assailed us as we disembarked. The gentle breeze blew the overpowering stench of putrefaction in our direction and made me want to retch. There was suddenly no air. Just this vast, creeping stink and foulness. I kept my hand over my mouth for a moment, holding back the rising bile.
‘They’re close now,’ muttered Pen warily, ensuring that I was safely covered by his huge torso as he stepped out before me. ‘Stay behind me.’
I did as I was bid, for the darkness held monsters.
‘Let’s go for it,’ Kal said to the burly Nephilim in front of him. ‘We may still have time before they attack. They haven’t worked themselves up into a frenzy yet.’
But clearly he had spoken too soon.
A strange rustling of feathers and a slithering sound came from the depths of the darkness which now oozed and dribbled like black ink from the sky, obscuring the dewy luminosity of the countryside.
‘What’s that? Is that them? The Rephaim? The Fravashi?’ Fi asked, her voice slightly shrill, but her night vision better than mine.
My heart pounded against my ribcage like a trapped animal desperately throwing itself against its cage in order to gain its freedom. And my mouth ran dry. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and spun quickly.
‘Oh my God! Over there!’ I cried, pointing in the direction I was facing.
‘Vite! Vite! Allons-y!’ Gabriel barked as the creature came out into the open. Manlike in form, its enormous wings and rapier-sharp talons suggested it was something other. The coldly inhuman, glassy pale eyes of the Rephaim locked on us. And then it launched itself; half-leaping, half-flying, so low that the tips of its wings skimmed
along the ground till it reached the end of the tarmac, and began to hiss and howl in an eerily bestial manner as if challenging us, daring us to run, to try to escape from it.
‘Be careful of its talons!’ warned Gabriel as he grabbed my sister’s arm and readied himself to propel her out into the open. ‘They’re venomous. Dipped in poison.’
‘Poison? Like deadly nightshade?’ I gasped from behind Pen, preparing to make a run for it to the waiting vehicles. ‘But if that’s the case, wouldn’t the poison be killing it too?’
‘It’s a Rephaim. Better to think of it as already dead, like a zombie, like the living dead,’ spat Kal with revulsion. ‘No remorse. No compassion. No humanity left. Just an overwhelming compulsion to kill.’
His words seemed an echo of my accusations towards the Anakim not long ago, and I winced in shame.
‘Now! Let’s go!’ Gabriel cried to the others.
He moved with lightning speed, Fi in his grip, towards the first sleek, black Range Rover parked by the hangar. She barely had time to protest as she was snatched up in his smothering embrace and almost thrown across the void, Kal miraculously waiting to catch hold of her as she landed.
‘It’s all right! We’re going to make it!’ shouted the other ash blond Anakim bodyguard behind me; little more than a boy in my mind with the softness of down still upon his upper lip. But, for all that, the veins popped out from his muscled arms and he had the broad shoulders of a boxer or swimmer, which suggested he wasn’t one to be messed with.
But, suddenly, another two vicious Rephaim landed on the tarmac before us, hideous sneers upon their wicked faces. They were colossal – much larger than their Anakim cousins – and completely lacking in even a semblance of humanity. Skin that was lividly flayed in areas through which viscera and bone could be seen, gaping gruesomely, and long, yellowish fangs marked their diabolical degeneration.
Pen charged with incredible speed just as Gabriel screamed, ‘Don’t be a fool!’ but it was too late, he was already set upon by the foul creatures. Plunging through them, he kicked savagely, as the other Rephaim, talons outstretched, tried to leap on his back. A flash of silver and a knife lodged in its back, giving it momentary pause.
‘Run, you bastards!’ shouted Gabriel, who had provided the brief reprieve, but I couldn’t tell whether he was screaming at us or at the Rephaim.
‘Come on!’ cried Zeke, and it was all the encouragement I needed, as I began to run towards the open rear door of the Range Rover.
Pen bellowed, wheeling around and dodging the other creature in a blur of movement. But then I heard Zeke’s loud gasp and turned back quickly.
With a sick dread, I watched as the Rephaim, Andromalius, crept out from where it had been biding its time, stealthily observing the combat at the furthest corner of the hangar, and now took to the skies. Louis all but disappeared into the night, only his platinum blond hair made him visible as I stared up at the darkness. And then, with a surge of atmospheric energy as he swooped with a power and speed that left me breathless and trembling in fear and terror, the sky tore apart.
It was in the moment that Louis plunged and clawed at Pen that the sky shredded, lit with forked branches of lightning. Louis gave an insane, wild laugh, audible above the din; the hair on the back of my neck rose at the sound of it, and the feel of it, as if it had the ability to reach across the distance and touch me, contaminate me.
And then the lightning transformed – it appeared like liquid light, taking on a viscosity like blood, flexing, tautening, and then, just for a moment, its tendrils reached out like limbs, like moving hands, like bloody fingers towards the airstrip – towards us. The light-filled hands reached down towards Pen, like the branches of an unspeakably evil tree.
But the brawny Anakim didn’t notice as he engaged Louis in combat. He couldn’t throw the malicious Rephaim off of him. They struggled together in a locked battle.
My hands twitched but seized on nothing more than air. And I didn’t dare call the power of the Seed with Pen at risk. I knew my own control over the power of the Seed was unstable still, and despaired that I wasn’t strong enough mentally or emotionally to master both it and myself. Especially as it seemed we might lose one of our own.
The three remaining creatures seized their chance and turned on the weakened Anakim. But Kal was there. From somewhere, he had secured a glaive and was slashing at the demonic beings, punishing wing and claw; their flesh falling, tangling in feather and viscera that dripped and dribbled onto the ground, an obscene and grotesque cud.
I screamed.
But my scream was all but drowned out by the shrieking and writhing fiends. At the piercing sound of their shrieks which seemed to carry beyond the darkness, my flesh crawled.
And then the ground suddenly surged. Vapours rose from the earth and roiled forth with an insidious ooze that destroyed everything in its path.
Swiftly, Zeke lifted me into the air and threw me forward so that I fell hard against Gabriel in a sheer panic as he caught me to him, just as the boyish Anakim launched himself into the fray.
By now, Pen was swaying dangerously under the onslaught, barely able to keep himself upright. He desperately wheeled, stumbled, got his feet under him, pushed himself back upright and threw himself forward – just as the Rephaim struck, talons tearing flesh. Deep gashes prominently appeared upon his beefy forearm, weeping blood.
Then Kal spun savagely and struck Louis between his shoulder blades where his onyx wings curved upwards as if wickedly reaching towards the lightning, and he fell hard to the ground.
Zeke hooked Pen’s good arm around his neck and together they half-ran, half-stumbled towards us. He strained to hold onto his injured brother as a great jumble of earth and stone and fumes thrust up beneath them. Kal managed to catch Pen whose legs collapsed beneath him, steadying him. And, together, the two men ran for their lives, their injured comrade dragged between them, no more than a dead weight.
‘Over here, come on, you can make it,’ Fi called sharply, gesturing frantically for them to hurry.
But they stumbled again, the burden of the injured Anakim and the surging ground slowing their progress.
‘They’re not going to make it,’ I whispered in horror, turning desperately to Gabriel – but he must have had the same thought as me at that exact moment because he was already there, replacing Zeke at the wounded man’s side and half-carrying Pen to the closest Range Rover.
There was no time to run for the second vehicle, so I threw myself into the backseat after Fi as Gabriel pushed a delirious Pen almost onto my lap, clambering in after him.
‘Just drive!’ Gabriel shouted at Zeke, who leapt into the driver’s seat and fired up the engine.
As the Range Rover roared to life, Kal darted in front of the car and wrenched open the front passenger door to launch himself inside – and then we were racing along the airstrip at a phenomenal speed, jolting and bouncing crazily with every swerve and turn.
Fear pushed itself up my windpipe, threatening to cut off my breathing, and I had to focus on pushing the air in and out of my lungs – which provided the briefest of distractions, enough for me to gather myself together.
But I couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop trembling in reaction. The faces of the Rephaim were animalistic and primal, and I now knew better than ever what we were up against. I regretted every bitter accusation I had thrown at St. John and the others.
‘Kal, give me your glaive,’ Gabriel commanded, wasting no time.
My eyes widened.
A sick horror assailed me at the thought of what Gabriel was about to do. I felt dreadfully cold inside, though sweat was beading on my skin.
‘Oh fuck! You’re not going to–’ Fi yelled, her eyes lit with anger. Something told me though, that her anger wasn’t directed at Gabriel but at the whole screwed up situation.
‘Sage, Saffron, hold him down. Hold him steady,’ instructed Gabriel, ignoring my sister’s outburst as he took the glaive from Kal’s
outstretched hand. Implicit in his voice was that this was bad enough without having Pen struggle against him.
The wicked-looking glaive glinted in the wan light of the moon and I wondered how Gabriel could see what he was doing – but then I remembered the incredible abilities of the Nephilim and could have wept at my stupidity.
What was worse? I thought. Dying a slow and agonising death as you lost your mind or this?
Fi caught my shocked gaze, hers held determination, and she pressed herself down upon Pen’s shoulders, one arm yanked behind him, immobilising him, pinning him to the seat of the car. He began to scream – a horrific, piercing wail of pure terror. He wrenched and thrashed and convulsed – and it took all of our efforts to hold him still and, even then, it was not enough without Kal’s help – in an effort to get free.
‘Hold him down!’ shouted Gabriel as Pen arched his back and his legs slapped against the seat, feet kicking out aimlessly and with a might that would have shattered the window had they connected. Spit flecked his lips and the whites of his eyes bulged from their sockets.
I tightened my grip on Pen’s upper chest as he arched away from me – and it felt, in turn, that a fist was squeezing my heart just as tight.
Sweat poured down Gabriel’s face and his expression was pure agony – matching that of the injured man – yet we all knew that he had to do it.
‘Now!’ Gabriel yelled again as my heart thumped wildly.
And he brought the glaive down in one forceful action, plunging, severing his brother’s arm, just above the elbow, as the roaring in my ears was drowned out by the most appalling, inhuman screams coming from the brawny Anakim.
I blocked the next few minutes from memory – until the threshing stopped, and the screams and grunts died away, and the physical strain to hold Pen down was unnecessary as he finally quieted and stilled. My hands came away tacky with Pen’s blood, an oil slick in the darkness, and I felt like Lady Macbeth, as if I would never get it off my guilty hands.