Last of the Nephilim

by Bryan Davis

  Catching his gaze, Elam nodded at Patrick, who gave a weary nod in return. With most of the patients asleep, maybe he could grab a few winks with his newly restored wife.

  Walter returned with Ashley. She picked up one of the villagers’ cloaks and pushed her arms through. “Let’s talk outside,” she said.

  When they had gathered on the street, Ashley shivered in the strengthening wind. “I’m glad you mentioned the airplane. We really need it, but not just for training.” She looked back at the infirmary. “The villagers told me about a hospital in the sky, a metal tubelike thing that stays up by some kind of magnetic force. It’s warmer than this place, a lot better equipped, and safer, at least once you get inside. A few of these patients could die really soon if they stay down here, but they tell me it’s probably too cold to fly them up there by way of dragon.”

  “Is there a landing strip?” Elam asked.

  Ashley shook her head. “Not a traditional one. They have a docking station for dragons, but it doesn’t sound big enough for an airplane.”

  “Then how do we transport patients?”

  “They said the hospital is constantly moving. An airplane could stay level with the docking station and fly alongside.” She flattened her hands and set them side by side to illustrate. “If we could hold the plane steady enough, we could wheel the patients across on a ramp.”

  “Sounds risky.” Elam stroked his chin. “Maybe too risky.”

  “I think an expert pilot could do it,” Ashley said, “and that would count me out.”

  “That means Billy.” Elam flicked his thumb toward the far side of the street. “And he’s heading for Mount Elijah.”

  “And I’m not even sure he could do it,” Walter said. “He knows how to fly the plane, but keeping it steady enough to wheel patients through a heavy breeze with thousands of feet of empty air underneath?” He shook his head. “Not to say anything bad about Billy, but that might be more than he can handle.”

  Ashley raised three fingers. “Well, three of my patients are going to die if we don’t get them up there. Their hearts are failing, and they might not make it through the day. The sky hospital has a heart machine we could haul down here on a dragon, but only Angel and Abraham know how to set it up. Steadfast can operate it, but he’s afraid if we disconnect it, we wouldn’t be able to get it running again.” She let her fingers droop and pushed her hand inside her cloak, shivering again. “I don’t want to lose them. One of them is a young man about my age, and another is a little girl. Both are way too young to die at the hands of that monster.”

  “Agreed.” Elam nodded toward the birthing garden. “Let’s ask Clefspeare if he thinks Billy can do it. If he gives the go-ahead, we can send someone on a dragon to pick Billy up. One of the villagers ought to be able to find the way to Mount Elijah by air.”

  “Let’s do it now.” Ashley began marching toward the garden, raising her voice as she walked. “It’s a matter of life and death. Once Clefspeare realizes that, maybe he’ll go and pick up Billy himself.”

  Billy hiked up the steep, narrow trail, Excalibur’s scabbard hanging from his belt. Since Walter had opted to stay and help with the wounded, he had insisted on trading swords.

  “I won’t need Excalibur,” Walter had said. “Not if we’re just twiddling our thumbs waiting for an attack from overgrown plant creatures who might never show up. Maybe your dad and I can roast some marshmallows and make s’mores, that is, if they have marshmallows here … or chocolate bars … or graham crackers. Then again, maybe he can teach me how to fly your airplane. I can’t get into any trouble doing that, right?”

  Billy grinned. Picturing Walter flying Merlin while Clefspeare flew at his side shouting instructions almost made him laugh out loud. His mind sketched Ashley barking orders at Walter from the copilot’s seat.

  When the image faded, Billy looked up at the peak of Mount Elijah. A thin string of gray vapor rose from the cone, like smoke from a chimney. Nothing alarming. More inviting than ominous. Near the top, an arched opening cut into the mountain’s face, a cavelike entrance that reminded him of his father’s cave back in West Virginia. This opening was quite a bit smaller but had the same kind of semicircle shape.

  He looked back at his fellow hikers, Candle pushing a walking stick against the rocky path, and Listener, hanging on to her brother with one hand and her spyglass with the other. Each wore burlap bags on their backs tied over their shoulders and around their torsos. Bundled up for the cold breeze—woolen hats with flaps that covered their ears and scarves around their necks, and heavy coats of rabbit fur—they looked like marching bunnies with human faces.

  To their right, the mountainside dropped sharply, a plunge of at least three hundred feet if they happened to stumble that way. Fortunately, the path was wide enough for two people to walk side by side with room to spare.

  Acacia trailed the children, now wearing a pair of low-top boots donated by one of the doting mothers back at the village. With her cloak no longer available, she had borrowed a child’s robe of thick khaki linen, tied at the waist by a leather belt. Since it was likely an ankle-length garment for the child, and Acacia was not much taller than many of the village children, the bottom hem brushed her calves. Her long white dress, protruding a few inches from underneath the robe, flapped in the cold breeze. She carried a wide, rag-topped stick and used it for balance as she labored up the path.

  Billy stopped and pointed toward the peak, glad for an excuse to rest. “Is that our destination? The cave up there?”

  “That’s it!” Candle looked back at Listener who was now staring at the peak through her spyglass. “See anything, Sister?”

  Listener lowered the glass and shook her head. When Acacia caught up, she pulled her belt tighter, shivering. “This portal must be an unusual one. I can already sense its presence.”

  “Really?” Billy asked. “What does it feel like?”

  “My eyesight sharpens, and I feel a sense of sadness, like something tragic has happened … or is going to happen.”

  “On that uplifting note …” Billy withdrew Excalibur and continued the march. When they reached the top, he paused at the cave’s arched entry and leaned into the mountain’s shadow. As his eyes adjusted, the scene inside took shape—a depressed basin at the center of a chamber with a high roof, a mini-cathedral of stone.

  “Looks safe enough.” He stepped across the rough lava rock that coated the floor and stopped at the edge of the basin. Ashes lay across uneven stones that seemed jammed into the volcano’s throat. Gray smoke seeped through the gaps and rose toward the ceiling, an inverted funnel that released fumes into the sky.

  Billy sniffed, then coughed. Sulfur permeated the acrid air, coating his tongue with a bitter film. “Come on in,” he said, “but you might want to hold your nose.”

  Filing in one by one, the remaining travelers joined him, Acacia first, then Candle and Listener. Acacia held out her stick. “Shall I light our torch?”

  “Not if these fumes are combustible.”

  “They aren’t.” Acacia took in a deep breath. “I know this odor. It smells like my old home.” She nodded at the stick and whispered, “Give me light.” A flame erupted from one side of the rag and spread quickly over the top of the torch. She lowered it toward the bottom of the basin, but it didn’t quite reach the smoldering ashes.

  “Can you see anything with your souped-up eyesight?” Billy asked.

  While Listener trained her spyglass on the basin, Acacia lowered herself to her knees and set the torchlight close to one of the larger gaps between the stones. “There is a magma river far below, very much like the one in my Hades home.”

  “Could it be the same one?” Billy asked. “I mean, could you be looking through a portal into another world?”

  She rose to her feet. “I don’t think so. There is a portal here, but we always needed a swirl of fire to open one.”

  “Did you see the tree?” Listener kept her spyglass pointed at the basin. “
It’s kind of small, but I can see it.”

  “A tree?” Billy leaned over. “May I look?”

  Listener passed the scope to him and held the large end in place, steadying the tube. “If you point it between that charred weed and the gray rock and look through the crack, you can see it.”

  “I don’t see anything but the rocks.” He handed the spyglass back to her. “Maybe you’re the only one who’s meant to use it.”

  Acacia stooped and pushed Listener’s pigtails behind her shoulders. “Did its leaves look sort of like stars?”

  Listener nodded. “Dark green ones, and it’s growing from a circle of dirt that’s surrounded by stone.”

  Acacia rose and, keeping the torch pointed at the basin, turned toward Billy. The orange flames danced in her brilliant blue eyes. “If Listener is describing what I think she’s describing, this portal leads to the underground mines, my old home in Hades.”

  “How can we find out for sure?”

  “Let’s see if we can have a look.” Acacia extended the torch over the basin and waved it in a wide circle. The fire swirled. A ribbon of flames reached out and stretched around the basin as if tracing its perimeter from five feet above. As she continued her motions, the ribbon extended itself downward like an orange curtain drawing a theatre act to a close.

  Soon, a rotating cylinder hovered over the volcano’s throat, semitransparent and dazzling. Fingers of light flickered on the chamber walls and on their clothes.

  Giggling, Listener batted at the dancing lights as if they were hyperactive fireflies alighting and then jumping away. Candle kept his stare fixed on the cylinder, mesmerized.

  Acacia pushed the end of the torch into the cylinder wall, creating a gap in the flames. “Look inside and tell me what you see. Hurry, the viewer won’t last long.”

  Billy peered into the furrow. Inside and below the basin, a tree stood in the midst of a dim room lined with shelves. Objects that looked like rolling pins were piled in cubbyholes, some sticking out haphazardly, but only the top of the tree reached into Mount Elijah’s cave, making it impossible to judge its size. “Is that the museum you told me about on the way over here?”

  “The very same.” Acacia drew back the torch, closing the gap. The fiery spin slowed and soon evaporated, leaving the basin as it was before. “Did you notice that you couldn’t see the floor?”

  “Yeah. What’s up with that?”

  She pointed the torch. “The portal extends downward. In order to enter, we would have to unplug the volcano’s throat and jump in.”

  “Right into the river, huh?” Billy peered at the cracks between the rocks again. “Kind of risky, to say the least.”

  “I assume we would pass through the portal before we struck the magma.”

  “Assume?” Billy tapped Excalibur’s point near Listener’s sandals. “Maybe you and I could risk it, but not Candle and Listener.”

  “Then I should go alone,” Acacia said. “If it’s safe, I can come back and bring you three with me.”

  Billy nodded. “I guess you’re the only option. If I went alone, I couldn’t come back.”

  “Not unless you suddenly became an Oracle of Fire.”

  Billy touched one of the rocks with his blade. “If you went through it, would you be able to get out of the mines, I mean, to the Earth’s surface? If we want to get the other dragons over here, we need a path from there.”

  “I’m not sure. A lot of the portals closed for good, and since Hades merged with Earth, everything might have changed. When I get down there, I’ll look around for a way out.”

  “Okay, let’s see what happens.” He slid Excalibur into a gap. One of the rocks shifted but didn’t break free. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he pushed with all his might, using the sword like a lever. Both rocks gave way, and the rest tumbled into the volcano’s throat. A few seconds later, a new cloud of gas erupted and streamed to the escape hole above.

  Billy batted at the hot, smelly air. “When you try to come back up to this level, won’t you just fall into the river?”

  “Good point.” She peered into the opening. “But if this leads to the mines, I know where to get a rope. Be ready to catch it and pull me up.”

  “You really have a lot of confidence in me, don’t you?”

  Rising to tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. “Complete confidence.” Then, with a spin toward the volcano’s throat, she waved the torch again and recreated the portal cylinder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Billy pushed Excalibur into its scabbard and grasped Listener’s hand. “We’ll be waiting.”

  After setting the torch on the ground and tightening her belt, she stepped to the edge of the gaping hole, still visible through the wall of fire. Then, taking a deep breath, she leaped into the flames.

  Abraham patted Dikaios’s neck. “We will have to stop here, good horse.”

  Valiant slid to the muddy ground and helped Abraham dismount. “How is your arrow wound, Father?”

  Shifting his weight to his injured leg, Abraham nodded. “Much better, though I hope to avoid running.”

  Valiant drew his dagger from a sheath on his belt. “Nightfall will soon arrive. Should I sneak into the village and see where they are holding Angel? We can come back afterward with darkness as our ally.”

  “I will go.” He patted Valiant’s back. “I’m not sure how the prophecies will be fulfilled, but if Angel comes out, you must carry her home on Dikaios.”

  “I am strong,” Dikaios said, “but carrying three passengers through this marsh would be impossible.”

  Abraham raised a pair of fingers. “You need only carry two. If events transpire as I expect, I will not be coming back.”

  “Not coming back?” Valiant thrust his dagger to its sheath. “What do you mean to do?”

  “Do you remember the restoration prophecy?”

  Valiant looked up toward the darkening sky. For a moment he hummed, as if remembering a song. After a few seconds, his brow dipped low. “Are you the man who lost his scales?”

  Before Abraham could answer, Dikaios breathed through his flapping lips. “Is this a prophecy I have heard?”

  “I sang it earlier, my friend, but I will recite the relevant lines.” Abraham reached for Valiant’s dagger and withdrew it from its sheath. As he touched the blade’s edge with his thumb, he spoke the poem, this time without a tune.

  And only one can save her life,

  A man who lost his scales.

  A sacrifice to win his wife,

  If love is to prevail.

  He pricked his finger with the point of the dagger. “With the exception of Flint, I have never told our people that I was once a dragon. In fact, I was the very first dragon on Earth, and after I died in the flood, Michael the archangel transported me here to create a new world.”

  Valiant stared at the blood oozing from Abraham’s fingertip. “You were a dragon?”

  “As you have seen, dragons were not the beasts you know. On Earth, they were equal to or greater than man in intelligence, and often far surpassed him in wisdom. But they, much like mankind, fell from grace, though, unlike man, not all followed the path of the first to go astray. Goliath’s father, Makaidos, was also reborn here, and he sacrificed himself to rescue his daughters. Now I must do the same for this daughter.”

  “Daughter?” Dikaios said. “The prophecy says, ‘his wife.’”

  “It does, but it could mean Flint’s wife. I think he plans to force Angel into marriage and bring Eve’s curse upon her, the pain of childbirth in the manner of women on Earth. I suppose his plot is a twisted way of gaining revenge against me, even though he chose his path.”

  “But Angel chose stoning,” Valiant said, “and yet you dropped your stone.”

  Abraham grasped Valiant’s muscular forearm. It felt as tight as a tree limb. “I tell you this, my faithful warrior, in confidence. There is always a third option, but I have never revealed it, for I would never be able to judge it rightly if
the rebel or liar knew about it beforehand.”

  “Repentance,” Dikaios said. “You waited to see her bear the fruit of true sorrow.”

  “Indeed.” Abraham let a drop of blood fall to the water. “As it says in Elam’s Scriptures, ‘love believes all things.’” He handed the dagger back to Valiant. “And greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

  Valiant sheathed his weapon. “You are wise and good, Father. I am grateful that you are in command of our hearts while I am merely in command of our army.”

  Abraham drew closer and lowered his voice. “Yet, I have told you these things so that you can take my place. I know of no other who is qualified in strength, wisdom, and honor.” He kissed Valiant on both cheeks, and, with a heavy sigh, turned and padded slowly toward Flint’s village … alone.

  Chapter 22

  Alone

  Sapphira sat cross-legged and set a lantern on the floor in front of her. “Considering what Yereq told us, I think we can risk a little underground sunshine.” She blew a breathy whisper toward the wick. “Give me light.”

  A small flame crawled along the wick, growing to a half inch in height and illuminating the cramped sleeping area. Shiloh sat across from her, while Bonnie and her mother looked on, lying on their sides in the two cubbyholes. With a small stack of journals in front of her, Bonnie opened the top one and poised a pen over the page. “Just enough light to enter what happened today.”

  Sapphira knocked on the wall behind her with the heel of her hand. “Gabriel, can you hear me?”

  A muffled voice replied, drifting into the room from the mouse hole at the base of the wall. “I’m here … wherever here is. I don’t have a lantern.”

  “I’ll bring you one when it’s time to wake up.” Sapphira folded her hands in her lap. “We might be in this place for a very long time, so we should get to know each other better. I could tell you stories that would fill up years of waiting, but I’d like to hear more about you.” She scanned each set of eyes. “Who would like to go first?”