Last of the Nephilim

by Bryan Davis

  Finally, the tears flowed. “But why, Father Enoch? Why can’t Bonnie find another place to hide? She’s been able to stay away from slayers before.”

  He rubbed her back tenderly. “The slayer is the crafty Sir Devin. You see, he never died on Earth. He was transformed into light energy, and a dark, magical power has given him a physical residence as well as a new ability that allows him to track Bonnie wherever she goes.”

  She lifted her head. “Except for the mines?”

  Enoch nodded. “Except for the mines. And since you know the mines so well—how to find food and water, how to maintain your faith even after years of darkness, and how to see through spiritual windows to know when it is safe to depart—you are the only one suitable for this task.”

  “Spiritual windows? I thought the portals between Earth and Hades wouldn’t work anymore, since the two realms combined.”

  “Those portals are closed, but a physical hole to the underground is still passable on the mountaintop.”

  “Then what good is hiding there? The slayer can follow us.”

  Enoch shook his head. “Only Yereq is strong enough to climb down the walls of the chasm to the old mobility room, and the tunnel from there to the mines has collapsed. He can dig it out and close you in again. Then he will stand guard for as long as it takes and supply your provisions as you need them.

  “Would you do that?” Sapphira asked, looking up at Yereq. “Even if it takes years?”

  Yereq blinked his huge eyes. “For you, I would stand guard for centuries.”

  “Good for you.” Gabriel patted Yereq on the back. “You’re the coolest giant I’ve ever met. Well … you’re the only giant I’ve ever met, but I’m sure you’re the coolest.”

  Sapphira took Yereq’s hand and kissed his thumb. “Gabriel’s right. You’re amazing.” She then turned to Enoch. “So if there are no portals, how can I look through spiritual windows?”

  Enoch leaned to the side and reached into a pocket. He withdrew a glass egg the size of two fists.

  “The ovulum!” Sapphira reached for it. “I thought it was destroyed!”

  He laid it in her hands. “This is not the one you had, my dear. It came from another land. It was misused by someone there and, quite frankly, had become too much of a crutch for the people it helped. I give it to you now so that you can watch the proceedings in Second Eden. Soon … relatively speaking, of course … you and Bonnie will be called upon to go there.”

  “And Yereq?”

  “Oh, yes. And Yereq. As the last of the Nephilim, at least the last here on Earth, his services will be indispensable.”

  Sapphira gazed into the ovulum. Inside, the image of a dim room appeared. A woman had lifted a thin mattress on a cot and was looking underneath. A young man walked into the scene, and he and the woman began talking, though their voices didn’t come through. As the two sat, Sapphira brought the egg closer and stared at the young man. “It’s Elam!”

  “He is in Second Eden, doing my bidding.”

  She held the ovulum against her chest and caressed the glass. “Will I get to go to him?”

  “Perhaps. It’s too early to tell.”

  “But don’t prophets like you know the future?”

  “We report what God intends to do, but we don’t see the future, at least not as one views an object with his eyes. God will complete his purpose on Earth and in Second Eden, but who will live and who will die along the way?” He shook his head sadly. “I do not know.”

  Sapphira looked at the ovulum again, but the inner image had faded away, replaced by red mist. Still, the portrait of Elam’s face stayed in her mind—determined, yet serene, as usual. Always with his mind on his task, he was never distracted by his emotions. If the desire for the two of them to someday unite coursed within him as powerfully as it did in her, it had to be overwhelming at times. Yet, he seemed content to wait.

  Letting out a long sigh, she firmed her chin. “I can do this.” She looked at Enoch’s wise old face. “For you and Bonnie, I’ll do anything.”

  “Very good, my child.” Enoch raised a finger. “One more caution. It seems that Devin’s new talent is linked to being able to locate sources of spiritual light energy. If you use your fire-making power too often in the mines, he could well track you down. And if he believes he knows where Bonnie is, no giant will be able to stop the army he will amass in his mad obsession to kill her.”

  “So Bonnie has light energy?” Sapphira asked.

  “Oh, yes. She carries it with her, and it’s crucial that she keep it, even if she discovers it is leading a slayer to her. I believe, however, that hers will be weak enough in the depths to be ineffectual as a … a homing device I suppose you could say.”

  “If I can’t use my power, will we always be in the dark?”

  “I think it will be safe to use your hands or a lantern until you orient yourselves, but after that, you should use only the light of the ovulum and the magma river.”

  Sapphira took in a deep breath. “That will make it much harder.”

  “Indeed it will. That is why you, as one who has endured a much longer trial in those caves, must be Bonnie’s comfort, for I expect you to be there for a considerable amount of time. At the end of this journey, I believe you will come out far stronger, wiser, and more prepared for your battle. And if not for you joining the effort against the evil forces, Second Eden would not survive, and Earth and Hades would stay merged forever.”

  “Okay. What do I do first?”

  “Bonnie and her mother will meet you at the mountain site. I know it’s a long walk, and you’re tired, but Gabriel and Yereq will help you, and you should have plenty of time.”

  “I’ll fly her all the way there,” Gabriel said, “but is there anything else you want me to do?”

  Enoch gripped his shoulder. “You will be an excellent shuttle service for those going to the bottom of the mobility room hole. After that, however, I have no expectations. You are free to serve as you wish.”

  “I could stay with them down there.” Gabriel shrugged. “I mean, I know I’ll be the only guy in the gaggle, but I can find a private little cave to sleep in. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  Sapphira took Gabriel’s hand. “We’d love to have you. I know just the place for you to stay.”

  “I hope to have one other person join you,” Enoch said. “Like you, she has suffered greatly, so I will not coerce her in any way. If she is unwilling, we will have to change our plans dramatically, but I believe she will come without question. When you are all settled in the underground hideaway, I will appear to you in the ovulum and give you further instructions.”

  Sapphira cradled the ovulum in her palms. As she gazed again into its red mist, Enoch continued. “I must go now to guide the other warriors to battle. As long as you hold firmly to what you know, you will be able to endure.”

  Billy swept a shoe through the grass. Nothing but colorful wildflowers, crystal-clear pools, and pristine forests as far as the eye could see. Sure, it was beautiful, but he didn’t come here to see the greatest landscape job in all creation. They needed Sapphira, and she wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Sir Barlow joined him and waved an arm toward the scenery. “A magnificent view! I tell you, if the white-haired lass is right, and this is merely Heaven’s porch, then I think my eyes could not stand the glory of Heaven itself.”

  Billy smiled at the noble knight. He was a true gentleman without a trace of deception … or subtlety. His centuries in the candlestone must have been torture, but they obviously taught him a lot about appreciating freedom.

  “It really is beautiful, that’s for sure.” Billy nodded toward a point where the grass suddenly ended. “I’m going to see what’s over that cliff.”

  As he walked toward the edge, he kept his eye on Shiloh as she sat cross-legged in the grass, the warm breeze blowing back her braids. With her eyes open wide and her face tilted toward the sky, she seemed content to drink in the beauty. As usua
l, nothing fazed her, not a hair-raising collision with a fiery cyclone, a sudden appearance in another world, not even the disappearance of the only person who could possibly get them back home.

  Her father stood next to his father, the two of them examining a series of scorch marks on one of the airplane’s wings, but since it had flown around this place and landed without incident, the damage couldn’t have been too heavy.

  When he neared the edge of the grass, he slowed down. Something didn’t look right. The blue sky that signaled the sudden drop-off seemed odd, not transparent, but rather more like a painted wall, yet so well constructed that it appeared to have depth.

  He turned back. “Hey, Sir Barlow! Check this out!”

  “Yes, William,” the burly man replied as he marched toward him. “Did you find something strange down there?”

  “More like up here.” As he set his palm close to the surface, a slight tingling sensation ran along his skin. He jerked his hand back. “That’s weird. It feels like it might be electrically charged.”

  Sir Barlow drew his sword. “Perhaps a light touch will reveal the truth without causing undue harm.”

  As he set the point near the barrier, a narrow vertical line split the blue canopy, revealing a brilliant light, so bright, Billy had to shield his eyes.

  Sir Barlow staggered backward. “I didn’t touch it! I swear it!”

  The rift widened to at least three feet. Then, a human figure emerged from the light. As the gap closed, the radiance faded, leaving an elderly man wearing a leather tunic tied at the waist with a narrow rope. Sandaled and sporting calf-length breeches, he looked like a character out of a Bible drama.

  Billy extended his hand, but he couldn’t keep it from trembling. “I’m Billy Bannister.”

  The man took Billy’s hand and shook it heartily. “I am Enoch, prophet of the Most High. I’m glad to meet you, son of Jared.”

  “Enoch?” Sir Barlow dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “I am most honored to meet you, sir. I have heard stories about you ever since I was just a lad.”

  “Is that so?” Enoch touched Barlow’s shoulder. “The Bible says little about me.”

  As Barlow rose, his mustache lifted, revealing a wide smile. “Yet there are many stories in other books, incredible tales of wonderful adventures.”

  “Incredible?” Enoch pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Yes, perhaps to many they are.”

  “Speaking of incredible tales,” Billy said, “Ashley told me she met you while running away from a giant in a stairwell from Hades.”

  “A true tale, and a harrowing one.”

  “I was wondering how you know my father’s name? Did she mention it?”

  Enoch waved his hand. “I will have to tell you someday after our adventures are complete. What is important now is your mission, and I must guide you to Second Eden as soon as possible.”

  Billy nodded toward Merlin. “We flew our airplane here. Will that help?”

  “Without a doubt. I’m impressed by your ingenious plan to bring it to the Bridgelands.”

  “It was Sir Patrick’s idea,” Billy said. “He and Sapphira figured out how to do it.”

  “Ah, yes.” Enoch patted Billy on the back. “The noble gentleman is downplaying his role. Yet, you are the one who suggested the engine stoppage. Without that approach, you would have shredded the portal and perhaps burned the airplane. Your cleverness will be essential as you go to war.”

  Billy suppressed the urge to grin. He really was pumped about how everyone worked together. “Ashley mentioned the war,” he said. “We have to battle some giants, right?”

  “Come.” Enoch strode toward the airplane. “I don’t have an Oracle of Fire here to open the tunnel portal to the Valley of Shadows, but you wouldn’t want to go that route, anyway. There is another path.”

  As Billy and Sir Barlow followed, Billy wondered at the prophet’s words. Tunnel portal? Valley of Shadows? Maybe it would be better to wait and ask all his questions later. Enoch seemed to be in a hurry now. “So we’re going to fly to this place?” Billy asked.

  “Indeed. And this will be a flight you won’t soon forget.”

  Elam paced back and forth in front of the berm that encircled the village’s center. At least a hundred people sat on the stone roads that intersected at the circle, maybe thirty men, forty women, and the rest, children. Every set of eyes followed him, moving back and forth as he paced.

  With his wounds aching and still visible on his face, wrist, and through his torn shirt, he wondered if the look of a warrior helped him gain their respect. Maybe. But it would take more than blood and bruises when the time came to fight. What would a warrior chief do? How could he lead a people he didn’t even understand? What had he learned during his thousands of years that should have prepared him for this role? What resources did he have?

  He paused and scanned the group. To his right, Angel stood near the front, her arms crossed. She seemed cold and nervous as her eyes darted all around. With her knowledge of the people’s ways, she could be a great resource, but she seemed to be hiding something. What could it be?

  Ashley, sitting in the front row to his left, caught his eye. Now dressed in pantaloons similar to Angel’s, her face still flushed from her overheating ordeal, she leaned her head against Walter’s shoulder. She, too, would be a great help in battle. Even if she couldn’t suffer through healing deadly wounds, her touch alone seemed to do wonders for minor ones. Yet, she still needed time to recover. Her assistance would have to wait for a while.

  Acacia sat close by, holding Paili’s hand on one side and Listener’s on the other. With her fire-starting capability, she’d be a great warrior, but she, too, needed more time to heal.

  Near the back, Candle stood next to a muscular man with a dark trim beard and curly hair. This man had the true look of a warrior—confident stance, serious countenance, and riveting stare. Scars on his face and neck gave evidence of past battles, likely real battles rather than skirmishes with muskrats.

  Elam heaved in a deep breath. It was about time he said something. “Now that you’ve all had a chance to think about what happened, let me tell you my ideas on what to do to get Father Abraham back unharmed. Then I will ask for the advice of the experienced warriors and sages.

  “I’m not sure how far we can trust Flint or the words I heard him speak, but he has indicated no desire to kill your prophet. Apparently, he plans to hold him for two days. It seems that keeping him away will allow some people Flint calls his allies to come to his side in a potential war. My guess is that if Father Abraham were here, he would know how to stop that army from coming.”

  “So we must rescue him today,” the muscular man called from the back. He clenched a fist and smacked his palm. “We must squash Flint before he is too strong to conquer us.”

  Elam nodded at the man. “You are a valiant one. What is your name?”

  The man bowed low, then raised up, his shoulders squared. “You have spoken my name, Warrior Chief, for I am Valiant, the leader of Peace Village.” He again pressed a fist into his palm. “We are at peace because we are strong. The shadow people have raided us only twice since the first eclipse this year, and every one of the dark prowlers has met a fiery death. They know the danger of slinking into our homes, so their burglaries are few.”

  Several men murmured their agreement. One voice rose above the others with a hearty, “He’s right. Flint will not expect us to attack today.”

  Keeping her arms crossed, Angel stepped toward Elam and lifted her voice. “But can we fight anyone without Father Abraham or Enoch’s Ghost to guide us? If we wait for Father to return, I have faith that he will be able to lead us to victory no matter what kind of army Flint is able to gather.”

  A louder buzz of approval erupted from the crowd, with more women joining in than men.

  Elam firmed his lips and nodded. The gender gap was no surprise. Wives and mothers feared losing their men and older boys. The memorial stones he had see
n as Grackle flew him toward the village indicated that they had suffered through many costly battles.

  “I have a proposal,” Angel said, uncrossing her arms to raise a hand. “Let us wait through this day so that you, your dragon, your horse, your healer, and the Oracle of Fire can rest and recover. Your dragon’s stitches will hold her wing’s membrane, but the break in her mainstay needs more time, and you and your horse lost a great deal of blood. It will be hours before you will be able to fight without fainting.

  “Tonight, let Paili, the Oracle’s speech-bearer, say her words over the birthing garden. According to the prophecy, this will resurrect a great dragon who will come to our aid. Then tomorrow, we will be at full strength to mount a rescue, and we will recover the Prophet before Flint’s army arrives.”

  A loud “Yes!” broke out from somewhere in the middle of the audience, followed by a chorus of echoed yeses. As smiles spread across nearly every face in the crowd, Angel looked at Elam, crossing her arms again as she added a smile of her own.

  Elam nodded at her but held back any other expression of approval. Although Angel’s idea had its merits, and the people obviously agreed, rushing into a plan was never a good idea. Something in Angel’s expression didn’t look quite right. Was it that veiled secret he had noticed before? He shifted his gaze to Valiant. His face remained stoic, neither smiling nor frowning, and his eyes had fixed directly on Angel.

  While people continued to buzz, Elam waved his hand and raised his voice. “Excuse me, good people. I would like to hear Valiant’s thoughts about Angel’s idea.”

  Every head turned toward the back where Valiant stood. With his thick eyebrows pointing toward his nose, he withdrew a long dagger from a sheath tied to his leather belt. As he held it in front of his eyes, the crowd quieted to a deathly hush.

  “I have led every battle Father Abraham has commanded us to engage, and when fighting in the shadows against the dark ones, and splashing through the marshes to repel those who make their homes there, I have learned a very important lesson that no one who never ventures from the safety of his home will understand. If we fail to learn how our enemies conduct themselves, if we assume they will respond the way we would and be true to their words, then we will have lost before we have begun. For we respond with kindness to all, even to those who have offended us. We tell the truth, even at our own cost. And we fight only when we are attacked, when our wives and little ones are in danger. I believe they are in danger now. If we wait and allow our enemies to become strong, we will not be able to resist them.”