Last of the Nephilim

by Bryan Davis

  “They’ll be here any minute,” Acacia said, turning to leave. “We’ll need another healthy dragon.”

  “Wait.” Abraham grabbed her cloak and pulled her back. “Doesn’t the prophetic ark have more words to sing?”

  “She does, but how can she sing now? I don’t think it was supposed to happen this way, and I have to save Thigocia.”

  Abraham shook his head. “Enoch commanded the ark to sing all her verses and for you to conduct her to her stage. We must obey.”

  Chapter 17

  The Underborn Reborn

  Acacia looked toward the edge of the field where Ashley still pressed a hand on her mother’s wound, but she quickly turned back and, with her gaze low, said, “I will do as Enoch commanded.” After raising her hood over her hair, Acacia took Paili’s hand and guided her toward the edge of the garden. Her cloak flared in the breeze, its brilliant blue now sparkling in the growing sunshine.

  Jared raised the sword and stood in front of Abraham, Barlow, and Listener. “If the giants attack, I’m not sure we can hold them off, but we’ll do our best.”

  “My guess,” Abraham said, “is that the dragon will want to hear the prophecy. He knows it will carry vital information.” He reached out a hand. “Please help me up.”

  When Jared pulled him to his feet, Abraham rubbed the white gem on Jared’s ring. “Were you once a dragon?”

  He nodded. “I was Clefspeare, grandson of Makaidos.”

  Billy held up his hand, showing the white gem on his ring. “And I’m his son. I was an anthrozil. I could breathe fire before I gave up my dragon traits.”

  Abraham pushed both of them along. “Go with the ark and guard her well. Stand in the soil with her as she sings, and let us hope with your swords and Acacia’s fire, you will be protected from this devil’s onslaught.” Abraham then pulled Elam closer. “You guard Acacia’s back.”

  Jared and Billy ran ahead, caught up with Acacia, and moved in front of her, one on each side of Paili, their swords in ready position. Snatching up a fallen sword, Elam trailed them.

  Acacia raised her hands and called out, “Give me light!” When flames appeared in her palms, she whipped them into a shield around Paili and her two protectors. As soon as they reached the garden soil, she backed away to the grass and stood next to Elam.

  The fire crawled along the ground, and once again, the bones at Paili’s feet radiated an iridescent light. The bones seemed to pull the fire across the soil and into themselves, energizing their white coats.

  As the first giant set a foot on the ground, Goliath glared at Acacia. “Do you think your feeble shield can stand up to my army?”

  “I dare say it can.” She pointed at the giant, a nine-foot-tall man with a blackened face, a missing eye, and six fingers on each hand. “Chazaq used to be a tiny spawn that ate mashed worms. Although he is now a muscular brute, and his face is scorched, I still know him well from when he pulled us laborers up and down an elevator shaft. Since he is really a mere plant, he fears my flames. I can see terror in his only good eye.”

  As a second giant reached the ground, Chazaq pointed his spear at Acacia and laughed. “I remember you, little squirrel. If you think I am frightened by a mere candlewick, you will soon learn what it means to be snuffed out.”

  Acacia set her hands on her hips. “Your words spew false courage. Your own knees give you away. I saw them knock together when my flames appeared.”

  “Nonsense! I tremble because I am not yet accustomed to the cold here. Maybe I will warm up by chasing down a certain squirrel and stomping her flat.”

  “More bluster from an overgrown houseplant.” Acacia half closed one eye. “Haven’t you heard the law of the Oracles? Whoever spills my blood will surely die. Ask Nimrod about that, or Anak, one of your own kind. They both died by merely scraping Sapphira’s skin.”

  A third giant tromped down to the ground and slapped Chazaq on the back. “The little squirrel scolds you now.” He made his voice squeak. “Don’t spill my blood! Don’t spill my blood!” He laughed out loud.

  Chazaq narrowed his eyes. “I won’t spill her blood.” He raised a hand and tightened his fingers into a fist. “I will just crush her bones.”

  Goliath let out a rumbling chuckle. “Well, go ahead, Oracle of Fire, and let your little songstress sing her heart out. Perhaps I will learn something valuable in her words.” He extended his neck and brought his head within a few feet of Paili. “Yet, I am surprised at her stature. She seems very young to be a mother.”

  “They told me stories about being a mother,” Paili said, “but I don’t remember them.”

  “I heard those stories as well, but now I think they must have lied to you. No girl your age could possibly be a mother and not remember.” Goliath chuckled again. “It seems to me that you are doing the bidding of liars. But, after being a slave to Morgan and Naamah for so long, you have likely grown accustomed to that. I hear that you were the most gullible of all the underborns. In fact, you were such an imbecile, you could barely speak at all. Ask Acacia. She will tell you. That is, if she will now tell the truth.”

  Paili looked back at Acacia, a pained expression on her face.

  As a fourth giant joined ranks with the others, Acacia glanced at Elam. She whispered, “What do I say?”

  “I have an idea.” Elam stepped into the garden and crouched behind the fiery shield. With Billy and Jared still standing at each side and the flames warming his skin, he gazed into Paili’s puzzled eyes, still the same after all this time. Whether she looked at him as a dirty slave girl or as an elegant wife to Sir Patrick, those sincere brown eyes held a blend of youthful joy and emotional scars—the everlasting pleasure of freedom mixed with the memories of toil and bondage.

  He glanced into the mass of villagers but couldn’t locate Sir Patrick. With his gray hair, he should have been easy to find. Maybe he had gone to help with Thigocia. Turning back to Paili, Elam kept his voice low. “You remember me from a long time ago, don’t you?”

  “Of course, Elam.” She grinned. “You were the mouse who kept eating the bread crumbs Sapphira and I threw at the hole in the wall.”

  “That’s right, but do you remember how we used to sit in an underground tunnel and sing ‘The Lord Is My Shepherd’ to a little boy who was dying of cancer?”

  Paili looked upward for a moment. “I remember that. I held him in my arms, and he looked at me with those big, sad eyes and …” As her voice faded, a tear inched down her cheek. “I’m too small to hold a boy that big.”

  “That’s right. You were a grown woman.” Although he ached to wipe her tear away, he didn’t dare try to penetrate the fiery shield. “You see, there are many things about your life that you don’t remember, but we once spent many years together in your home. For now, just sing the words Enoch has given you, and we’ll defeat these monsters. After this is over, I will tell you as much as I can.”

  Paili looked at the growing army, now seven giants strong. “Okay,” she said, “but this is scarier than the last time.”

  Elam rolled his hand into a fist. “You can do it. I know you can.”

  Taking in a deep breath, Paili nodded and turned back toward the center of the garden. She lifted her hands and began to hum a beautiful trilling melody.

  Backing away, Elam kept glancing at the giants as they congregated, now up to eight in number, but they seemed to be waiting for everyone to arrive before attacking. Paili’s song would have to be short and effective.

  She lowered herself to her knees and picked up one of the glowing bones. Then, looking skyward, she began her song.

  Pattering feet to clattering claws,

  The dragon resurrects;

  Fiery eyes and fiery breath

  Humanity rejects.

  The garden breathes new life to those

  Now trapped without their scales,

  In human skin or pits of death,

  They burst from fragile jails.

  The one who treads on soil made
hot

  By bones of dragon kings,

  Restores a coat of scales and claws,

  Renews the gift of wings.

  A day will come when peace will rest

  On Second Eden’s land,

  But wars will rage for times unknown

  Till Prophet takes his stand.

  The liar lives in exile where

  She’s promised as a wife.

  Redemption comes at kingly cost;

  The price is life for life.

  O Abraham, the Adam who

  Refused the devil’s fruit,

  O will your sandals toil and tread

  On Second Adam’s route?

  The wars will rage, the battles roar,

  And dragons there will find

  The rubellite that bears their mark

  Restores the form in mind.

  The fiery shield collapsed. Flames scattered across the garden, sparking for a moment as they passed by each bone in the soil. Then, they vanished. All was quiet except for the cool breeze that wafted across every creature, human and dragon alike.

  Paili stayed on her knees, her eyes directed upward. Still brandishing his sword, Billy reached over Paili and nudged his father. “What do we do now?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe there’s more to the song. Let’s keep guarding her until she’s ready to get up.”

  The last of the Nephilim stepped off the staircase and joined the others. As soon as his foot left the final step, the black column evaporated into thick smoke and rose into the air.

  Now ten spear-wielding giants stood shoulder to shoulder behind Goliath, apparently not caring where they set their feet. Some had trampled plants, crushing a stem or pod as they arranged themselves in a line.

  Still standing with Acacia, Elam clenched his teeth. The giants were murderers! But what could he do? Lead an attack against them? That seemed unlikely. Acacia was able to hold them off with the promise of a barrage of fire, but in her weakened state, could she really battle that many giants? And with Thigocia hurt, could Roxil keep Goliath from slaughtering the villagers with a tidal wave of fire?

  Elam shivered in the cool breeze, but more from fear than from cold. He was supposed to be the warrior chief, but so far he had messed everything up, and the situation was getting worse every second.

  He waved his hands toward Thigocia, still resting at the far side of the field. “Everyone to the wounded dragon! Hurry!”

  The villagers who had returned, many now armed with swords and daggers, rushed that way. Dikaios trotted up and lowered his head. “Put the wounded on my back, and I will carry them.”

  Elam and Acacia helped Barlow and Abraham mount Dikaios. Abraham rode in back and held Barlow upright as the knight laid a hand against his head. “Don’t worry about me, my good fellow,” Barlow said. “I was practically born on a horse.” Dikaios struggled into a trot and followed the hurrying crowd.

  Acacia took Listener by the hand and stood at Elam’s side. “Should I create a fiery diversion so you can strategize with the others?”

  Glancing for a second at Billy as he and Jared continued to guard the kneeling Paili, he focused on his group of potential warriors, both dragon and human. “A diversion might help, but I’m not sure—”

  “The prophetess has finished her song and is now stalling,” Goliath roared. “Kill her! Four of you capture the Oracle of Fire! You others, join me. We will attack the crowd and capture the uninjured dragon.”

  “Gotta run!” Billy yelled as he scooped up Paili. Lowering his head, he sprinted along a garden row and rushed into the field.

  Jared followed, but as soon as he touched the grass, his shoes split open. Claws replaced his feet and pushed into the ground. His pants split from ankle to hip, exposing muscular, scaly legs. He stopped and called out, “What’s happening?” As his shirt ripped open, sparks flew from his lengthening nose. “I’m changing!”

  The Nephilim rumbled out of the garden. One knocked Jared down with an elbow as he rushed past. Jared writhed on the ground. His body swelled. Lines crawled along his hardening skin, separating it into scales. Still carrying Paili, Billy sprinted back to him and knelt at his side.

  Elam reached for Listener, but Acacia kept hold of her hand and ran toward the forest. “Go to your army,” she called. “I’ll protect her!”

  Lowering his body, Elam lunged in front of one of the Nephilim, rammed his shoulder against his knees, and pushed himself upright again. The giant flew through the air, flailing his arms and legs, and landed face-first in the grass. With his head half buried in the impact trench, his body fell limp.

  Elam pumped his fist. That was one down, but the others had already raced by. He ran in their wake, watching Acacia as she closed in on the forest. With Listener still in tow, and those giants striding on long legs, she would never make it back to the village before they caught up.

  Just before she reached the line of trees, she dropped down and spread out her arms. “Give me light!” she shouted. Instantly, bolts of lightning shot out from her palms and raced around her and Listener, creating a radiant aura, more like rays of sunlight than fire.

  The remaining three giants swarmed around her. Chazaq tried to thrust his spear into the aura, but it sprang out of his hands. He then pounded his fists against the surface while the other two kept watch, their spears ready. With each blow, her fire seemed to shrink and fade. She was already tired. How much longer could she hold out?

  Elam dove for the legs of the closest giant. Barely sliding under his stabbing spear, Elam tackled him around the knees and dug his toes into the grass, pushing and thrusting until the Naphil toppled over. Elam tried to jump back, but something smacked him in the head, sending him rolling to the side.

  As he rose to his knees, pain throttled his senses. He tried to find the giant, but with dragon roars and human screams echoing all around, he couldn’t get his bearings. The giant he had tackled climbed to his feet. Blood covered the blunt end of his spear.

  Elam felt the side of his head. Warm wetness matted his hair, but he couldn’t gauge the depth of the wound.

  The giant turned toward Acacia and hurled his spear. This time, the point shot through the weakened aura and pierced Acacia’s wrist. She fell on her back, clutching her arm. The shield vaporized. Listener screamed and threw herself over Acacia’s body.

  Just as Chazaq reached a meaty hand toward the girls, a torrent of fire blasted his face. Another river of flames rocketed across the field parallel to the first and poured over a second giant. Both giants, their clothes ablaze, rolled on the grass trying to snuff the flames, while the third dove under another surge of twin fiery jets.

  Still on his knees, Elam looked for the source. Waving a sword, Billy rode with a woman atop a great red dragon that half ran and half flew toward Acacia. “Surrender!” Billy called, smoke rising from his mouth, “or you’ll get another taste of fire from Clefspeare and me!”

  All three giants scrambled to their feet and ran into the forest, one with his pants still on fire. Another faltered, then fell face-first against a tree. He collapsed in a heap next to the trunk and lay still.

  Clefspeare wheeled around toward the opposite side of the field where Goliath had attacked with the other Nephilim. With three dragons fighting, fire spewed all around. Goliath launched a stream at Ashley, but Thigocia, now upright and hobbling, stretched out a wing and blocked it just in time. Roxil answered with a fireball that smacked Goliath’s face. Smoke engulfed the area, and giants stabbed wildly with their spears, some landing in human flesh and others striking only air.

  Elam pointed that way. “Go, Clefspeare! I can take care of Acacia!”

  “I’m fine, Elam.” Acacia, now sitting up, held a hand over her wound, while Listener watched the forest with her spyglass. “Leave Ruth with me. The people need their warrior chief!”

  “Ruth?” Elam looked up at the woman riding with Billy. Paili had transformed into her adult self, Sir Patrick’s lovely wife, Ruth Nathanson, now wea
ring a long-sleeved cloak and clutching it closed in front.

  Elam grinned. “Wait’ll Patrick sees you!”

  “No time for reunions,” Billy shouted. Taking Ruth by the hand, he lowered her down Clefspeare’s side until Elam could reach her. Elam kissed her cheek, then vaulted high on Clefspeare’s tail and ran up his spinal stairway.

  As he took a seat behind Billy, he pointed at the smoky battle. “Let’s go!”

  Clefspeare launched toward the melee. As they closed in, the details clarified. Walter, Valiant, and Barlow fought alongside the villagers, but the giants’ superior size and strength seemed overwhelming. The men of the village fought bravely, thrusting with their homemade swords and parrying fireballs with their leather-coated shields, while their companions zipped all around, their inner lights flashing wildly. The barrage forced the villagers to backpedal toward a bordering stone wall. If they retreated any farther, they would be doomed.

  Sir Patrick, now riding atop Dikaios, weaved in and out of the fray, jabbing and hacking with a sword, while Dikaios bit the giants whenever one was in range.

  Clefspeare sent a barrage of fireballs at Goliath, while Billy heaved a torrent at one of the giants.

  The moment Clefspeare slowed down, Elam leaped to the battlefield and, ducking under the firestorm, sneaked into the villagers’ ranks. He grabbed a sword from the ground, raised it in the air, and shouted, “Press forward! We have reinforcements!”

  Jumping toward one of the giants, he swung the sword and whacked off his thumb. “Follow me!”

  Barlow hacked Goliath’s leg and drew a spurt of blood. “Take that, you viperous villain!”

  Fire splashed against Goliath’s back. Smoke billowed all around. With a loud roar, Goliath beat his wings, clearing the haze. “Retreat! Survivors climb on me!”

  Two giants leaped on Goliath’s back. His body sagged for a moment, but, letting out a hefty grunt, he pushed into the air, flapping madly to gain altitude.

  Clefspeare, Roxil, and Billy each launched volleys of fire. One slapped Goliath’s wing, another ignited a Naphil’s shirt, and the third streamed under Goliath’s belly, lifting him higher.