Brian opened his eyes, bright with realization. He put a hand on Azrian’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Zoe does need our help.” He paused to release a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, White Ghost doesn’t know what to do. He says that I will…eventually.”
“What does White Ghost have to do with Zoeree?” Sabree asked. “How did you capture both of them in that stone?” His eyes darkened to a rich teal. “Who are you?”
“I’m one hell of an angel. Even so, I have no idea how to remove my niece from the stone. White Ghost insists that only a Lighted One could perform such a feat. Bah, Athorsis would never help, more hell bent on destroying us instead.”
“You have to go, Pop. Ask a nice archangel for help.”
“Naïve lad.” Brian placed a hand over his heart. “I promise to find the Lighted realm. No choice anymore. Too many reasons keep cropping up. The problem is, I may not find my way back home.”
Azrian cringed when Aunt Ariane and Sabree started to complain about the risks. He spoke above their voices. “Zoe would do this for us if we were in her place. Please?”
“Aye, don’t worry. One way or another, I must go. None of us will survive if I sit on my ass and do nothing.” Brian stepped up to Sabree without intruding on his personal space. “Send a few whispers through the Fallen rumor mill to find out anything you can about your father?”
“That bastard? Why?”
“He’s the snake who blew Earth to smithereens.”
20
Scapa Flow
N early two in the morning, I sat on the cliffs of Cava, an uninhabited island overlooking Scapa Flow. Laden with several shipwrecks, the sea was a sports diver’s paradise. An associate of Duncan’s, a professor who spent more time diving while on tenure, hid one of the drives inside the Markgraf.
To avoid other divers, I waited until well after midnight. My gaze scanned the dark horizon. Nothing amiss, I swan dived, well sort of, into the murky ocean. The water was slightly warmer than the air temp. November in the Orkneys stayed above freezing over the night. My body must be changing. I used to be always cold. Not so much anymore.
The dark aquasphere—no other word to describe it—reminded me of the darker side of the portal realm. Otherworldly. Instead of hovering or flying, my body floated. Solid unlike its ethereal entity amongst the celestial bodies. Other differences like compression existed. My wetsuit flattened into a thin layer of skin. The Steampunk goggles pushed against my eyes like suction cups. Divers are supposed to exhale inside their masks to compensate, to avoid mask squeeze injuries to the eyes. No worries in my case with instant healing. Still uncomfortable though. One similarity in this aquasphere was absolute darkness. It reminded me of where the Dark Ones lurked.
Speeding along, I swam Aquaman style using underwater sculling with arms at each side and legs flutter kicking. Two setbacks prevented a JLS jump inside the battleship: inexact location of the wreck and no visual of what it looked like inside. Unlike the seaworthy avenger, I had to rely on speed and sense of direction, comparing it to the earlier aerial practice runs. Had anyone spotted me, I might’ve looked like a large seabird. Maybe a drone.
Several minutes had gone beyond the timed test runs, the ETA miscalculated. Traveling through saltwater differed from air velocity. Much slower. I continued onward, wondering if I should surface to check my phone’s GPS. Ten to one, I overshot the bow of the dreadnought. A quick turnaround led me back to the massive ship.
A dark shadow took shape before me. The underwater torch bought at a local dive shop back in Edinburgh illuminated the SMS Markgraf. The battleship lay to rest, capsized about forty-two meters below the surface. Low to the seabed, I swam toward the stern and floated in place, shining the light on the eerie sight. Sea anemone and barnacles covered the manmade reef almost as spectacular as the nebulas and wonders of space. Almost. This scene rated high on the dark and dreary scale.
Salvagers had blasted a hole near the engine room to strip it of valuable metals. I shone the torch into the vast chasm that dropped through a number of decks. With no need of a rebreather, I slipped through the jagged steel. An edge almost tore into my wetsuit.
The complex anagram came to mind. Details. Where did Duncan’s mate hide the drive? Then an image of the drive sitting behind a false panel on the third deck near the aft hatch door replayed. I spent too long searching for it, everything covered in growth. Gloved fingers traced the aft bulkhead until they snagged on a lump. I peeled back the magnetic panel. Behind it, the attached flash drive was securely tucked away inside a waterproof bag. Number nine drive didn’t include an anagram. I should have left the prize for the barnacles, but the worrywart in me had to claim it.
While retracing the same path out of the ship, a familiar presence snagged my attention. One of the Fallen. Someone I didn’t recognize. The torch illuminated the hull where my senses fired on overload. Sure enough, one of the Fallen floated in the beam. He wore no goggles, had no light. A lurker. “What do you want?” I asked telepathically.
“Justice. Revenge. My dignity. After I finish you, I will dispose of your twin and then Sabree. Everyone dear to you.”
He sure had some bollocks. The gray matter inside my skull darkened enough to impede the lone wolf with one thought; however, curiosity got the better of me. “What’s your beef with Sabree?”
“He ground me into dogmeat.”
“Zanyael?” Someone must have stepped in to intervene, put him back together again. Only one possible magician came to mind. Athorsis. What was he up to?
“You know me?”
This puzzled Zanyael. I studied him for signs of the archangel. “Yes, I do. And, you have been misinformed. My sister and I are not ghouls. If I was, could I do this?” My black wings sprouted outward, slicing the back of my wetsuit. They paddled slowly, mimicking the graceful fins of a whale. The torchlight caught Zanyael’s expression, eyes wide and bright. Too bright to be normal. Then flames flickered—the telltale sign.
“You boast too much, Brian. I should end you now.”
“Just try it.” Without waiting around to give him the chance to retaliate, I shot straight up and broke the surface. Water dripped from all four wings that sparked and flapped furiously as I skyrocketed into the night.
Hot on my trail, Athorsis burned through the Fallen body he had possessed. The night sky appeared as brilliant as the midday sun. Before the heat reached me, I tucked in my wings and mind hurdled JLS style to the Azores, to the beautiful beach resort.
As I exited the water, rejoice surged through me and then outward to the heavens, thankful I didn’t send Azrian on this final scavenge. Who knew what Athorsis would do to him? I dared not ponder on the consequences. Wary of vacationers, spying a few farther down the shore, I must have looked like a night surfer whose wetsuit had seen better days. At least Athorsis didn’t follow me here. He’s taunting me, but why? To find out, only one choice lay before me: find a way inside the Lighted realm.
3 3 3
A few days later, the home front had finally settled. Somewhat. No sign of Athorsis either. Ariane kept after me about Zoe. Sabree not so much, because I had given him an assignment. More like shocked him into action. The news about his father triggering the world’s destruction, mortified him. His eyes dulled to a zombie-like gray for days. My bad for spouting off so abruptly. I should have eased the bad news in wee segments.
Azrian spent the time helping Ariane set up the lab. Convinced I was going to find a way to help Zoe escape the stone, he left me alone to my worries. I managed to scratch one more thing off my list: the nine flash drives all crushed, melted and delivered to Wayde’s office in the Switzerland stronghold. His eyes almost popped out of his skull when I walked through the wooden door. Hate that ugly carving. Then the bastard pulled a gun on me when I held out the metal and plastic clump to show off the pulverized condition of the drives.
An exhilarated chill swept through me, recalling how he must have wet his pants when I stuck my middle finger
in the muzzle and told him the journal was no more. “Bite me, Wayde.” JLS delivered me back home before he fired. Left him untouched to make sure he’d be around for a while longer. No better way to lure Farian from his hiding spot had come to mind.
Yesterday, I wasted time arguing with White Ghost. More than once, he warned me not to take him inside the Lighted Realm. They might try to capture and imprison him again. Back when Sabree and I searched for the ghost to ask it one question, Sabree told me the Malakhim imprisoned him. Now I’m not so sure. Only a Lighted One could bequeath such power to do so. Only Athorsis could be so cruel. I granted White Ghost its request, mainly because I was worried the trip into the realm might knock Zoe out of the stone and into oblivion. White Ghost’s glow brightened. Apparently, my decision pleased it.
Ariane brewed a new batch of Colton tablets. But the new stove they baked in, burned the tablets to a crisp. She blamed it on a faulty calibration. Azrian helped her out as much as she needed. As did Jesse and Bellamy after they returned from a quarterly HFA meeting. Neither relayed the hot topics but mentioned the group discovered a few clues as to where Farian and his group hung out. Hopeful news.
Azrian and Bellamy had taken to each other right away. I cringed when Bellamy planted a kiss on my son’s lips. In front of me no less. I’d get used to it, no doubt. But where I was headed for, I’d lose a lot more—including my male gender. This time I cringed on my behalf.
21
There can be Only Thirteen
A phantasmal quest, one I wished to avoid, had at long last lured me into the portal. Along with Zoe’s fate and Athorsis’s threats, the inevitable urged me on as though destiny, itself, had a mind to dictate my calling. Bloody hell. Why not waste a few hours combing the portal for an imaginary doorway into the Lighted Realm. Chances were, I would never find it. So, no worries.
For what seemed like hours, days, or years, I rocketed along the outer rim of the portal driven by half-ass determination. Skepticism clouded any and all confidence that I’d ever find the entrance to the Lighted Realm, its border, or the pearly gates themselves. The same confidence—cockiness—doubted trumpets would blare to announce my arrival. More like archangel designed arrows would shoot me in the ass and send me on my way.
As time trudged on, the revolutions tightened, compacted as I raced near the speed of light in search of the realm. Uncertainty consumed my mind. What if the Lighted Ones used a password or secret code to access entry? Athorsis never offered a hint, fearful I’d find it on my own. My head began to throb, squeeze in on itself as if I was swimming deeper into the ocean depths.
The revolutions continued to shrink until my body spun on a central point of light much like a spinning top. They constricted to a nanosecond of immobile synchronization. Stopped on an atom never mind a dime. The gateway? The portal universes of nebulas, stars, galaxies, and gaseous whirlpools vanished, surpassed by stars packed to the hilt, more radiant than ever. So vivid, the skies glowed a fluorescent turquoise. Heaven? The Lighted Realm? For the time being, I’d accept the visual as such. I found it!
An absolute awareness of serenity overwhelmed me as the spectacle of billions upon billions of glittering stars dazzled my eyes with their brilliance. The peaceful visual lasted only seconds and then every point of light rushed my skull. Bombarded me one after the other. A blazing heat erupted from my core, hot enough to pulverize my body. The pain was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Light ignited my eyes, yet I had none to shut as the radiance smothered my entire being. Burned my entire being. My mind screamed until the agony subsided. Again, how much time passed had gone unanswered.
If my physical body or ethereal outline still existed, surely it had evaporated into the starry invasion. No escape. Up, down, left, right, all directions combined as one dimension. With nowhere to go, I floated aimlessly in place. I think.
While in this limbo, images or visions began to trickle into my mind. Slowly at first until they bombarded me at warp speed. If nowhere else, that speed surely existed here. It had to. Along with new, old, and unborn worlds, I witnessed the beginning, the end, birth and death together, exploding pain, and finally fear. Comfort, hope, anything pleasurable evaded my grasp. Eons upon eons of phenomena and images cluttered my brain. No voice, no thoughts, I begged it to stop.
Instead, the images increased hundredfold, barraging me with an endless sea of piranha-like cherubs. All sensations perished at once: touch, intuition, smell, along with the ability to detect the passing of time. Dimensions blended simultaneously and all within my core. Blinding light absorbed me. No, not absorbed, I had become the light, my explosive death for trespassing into the realm.
The laser-sharp pain intensified. Neither screams to express rage nor unconsciousness to escape the ferocity granted me any cessation of hostilities. No tears flowed. My fate a mystery, I floated in silence, in the blinding golden light for what felt like eternity. Who knew anymore? The pain knew. Whoever caused this blinding agony, knew.
Static. Hum. More static.
A voice.
“Brian?”
Certain someone called me, my consciousness froze. My soul, if that is what still existed, reached out for hope. A barely audible buzz broke the silence. Static tickled my eardrums. Much to my relief, one of my senses returned, even if just the concept of it. The noise grew in volume until it switched to a low thrum. Someone called my name again.
“Brian,” a voice whispered telepathically. “Focus on my voice, my light. Seek the lavender flame. Focus on the color.” The voice paused and then shrieked, “Brian!”
Hidden within the collision of images and radiant light, my consciousness zeroed in on a small flame. Purple hues flickered around its center as it grew in size and radiance. Along with the shockwaves, the visual clutter swam to the back of my mind. I could finally focus on the vision that filled my entire sight along with an all-consuming warmth and welcomed feeling of affection. Somehow, this visual did not come from sight via my eyes. I had none.
As I drew near the purple flicker or it drew near me, an imaginary lone pine exposed in a snow-covered forest came into focus. The tree twinkled with lavender lights that glistened off the freshly fallen snow. Woodland creatures huddled around the tree to absorb its warmth and magical glow nestled around the lower branches. This scene enchanted me, its tenderness welcoming after the fiery limbo. A heavenly splendor.
“Focus, on the warmth, Brian. You have entered the Lighted Realm without proper initiation. With no idea what to expect, your body should have shattered into a million irretrievable pieces.”
You mean it didn’t? My body sure felt like it shattered, but I’d guesstimate trillions by the critically intense pain. While focused on the lighted tree, I replied in return, “Who are you? Your light or being is too serene to be Athorsis.”
Gentle laughter tickled my mind like the softest feather duster. “aThorsis sensed your forced entry and fled. He has witnessed the endgame and feared you arrived to take him on.”
“Aye right. About that—I can’t even focus, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m pretty sure my body did shatter into a trillion pieces. If not for your help, your light, I’d still be an incoherent mess…” I paused when the right words to describe the chaos refused to come. No idea how to put the hellish information overload into a coherent thought.
“You experienced the transformation. The moment you entered the realm from another dimension, you changed into a sub-lighted version of yourself. Otherwise you could not exist in this realm. Mind your wishful thinking. You are not yet a Lighted One or archangel as you call us.”
Unable to feel my stomach, if it existed, I would have sworn it flipped over a dozen times when the lavender Lighted One said something about me—my being—should have shattered like fine crystal. How did I manage to keep it together? “Athorsis doesn’t have anything to worry about. Not this time.”
The Lighted One replied as if he or she detected my inner thoughts. “My name is aAriel. Focus on my li
ght, on my voice while I teach you to filter only that which you need to witness for the time.”
From within my mind, the archangel envisioned its name with a lowercase a before the official name. Ariel, the Lighted One of nature. And what about my nemesis? aAthorsis or aThorsis? aBrian? I chuckled. Not very musical.
“With practice, and you must practice, you shall learn to adapt to this realm. If you are truly destined to destroy aThorsis, you must do so with a clear mind. No distractions whatsoever.”
A clear conscience would also help, but the Lighted Ones and Malakhim regarded death differently than did humans. Death happened, so get over it, carry on. “Destroy aThorsis? That’s my destiny?”
“If you intend to replace him, you must destroy him. Otherwise he will forever be a threat. There can be only thirteen.”
There can be only one. References to Earth’s historical records, seven or fifteen archangels came to mind, some of the names different. Now thirteen? No matter, with aAriel’s help, my mind cleared for the moment. To me, it seemed aAriel rendered toward a she since its aura seemed gentle, almost feminine. Or did the lavender hue deceive my human half’s closedmindedness?
aThorsis’s presence always made me think of an overpowering war monger, his color a flaming red—violent and angry. Did their lifeforce generate the color? Lavender, even in this dimension seemed to reflect calmness, which this Lighted One used to soothe my crazed mind.
For a time, we hung out, practiced on focusing until the images became one. How long we agonized on it, I had no idea. aAriel urged me to sharpen the skill. We repeated the exercises over and over until my mind tired and only filtered the bombardment for seconds at a time. To conclude the exercises, she asked me to concentrate by myself. Still referring aAriel as a she, in a strange way, the feminine title afforded her more power, more patience, the ability to heal.
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