Rise Of The Nephilim (The Tamar Black Saga)

by Nicola Rhodes

  The obvious teenager among the group looked the most likely fighter – tall and well-built with a greasy rebel look about his longish hair and battered leather jacket, but far too young to be in this situation surely. Yet his self-possession in the face of the oncoming hordes was phenomenal in one who clearly had not been shaving more than a year or two.

  He fought methodically with a knife and short sword – standard slash and parry not as flamboyant as the others in his style but quite effective all the same.

  And occasionally the dark haired woman or the fair haired man would throw what looked like explosions of light – some sort of grenade? – into a crowd of warriors and disperse and decimate twenty or sometimes fifty at a time.

  They were only four against hundreds, but they were taking the enemy apart.

  The others who were armed and fighting alongside them were mostly the members of the magical community who had been roped in to help and several members of rebel groups made up of ordinary citizens who had discovered that they were not so ordinary after all. Not when the chips were down. But it was becoming increasingly obvious that none of them would have survived had it not been for the efforts of the mysterious small group who had apparently appeared from nowhere just when they were needed.

  The small contingent of magical people who had been waiting for the Army had not been expecting Tamar and the rest to turn up here, but they were extremely grateful to see them.

  And as suddenly as it had started it was over. The Army – what was left of them was in retreat. At least for now.

  Tamar stuck her sword into the road as if she were sticking a knife into a pie and leaned on it wiping her brow.

  But it was not over. Denny had seen something happening away in the distance.

  A truck full of civilians was being driven away at top speed. Denny knew that they were being taken away for “trial”. Experience had taught him as much. The battle had obviously been a diversion – he had thought it was too easy. There was no time to explain. He leapt on a handy motorbike, and gunned the engine, using a spark from his finger to start her up, and took off at warp speed after the truck.

  ‘Where the hell is he going on that thing?’ asked Cindy.

  ‘He’s following the truck,’ said Tamar who had just realised what was going on. ‘You can’t teleport after someone if you don’t know where they’re going.’

  ‘Get off it,’ said Jack dismissively. ‘He’s a speed demon, and we all know it.’

  ‘That may be true,’ said Tamar. ‘But in this situation, do you really think he’d be indulging himself? He’s going after them the only way he can, and you know it.’

  ‘I hope he catches up with them,’ said Cindy.

  ‘Oh, he will,’ said Tamar confidently. ‘After all, most motorbikes don’t get up to five hundred miles an hour which is the fastest I’ve clocked him at – of course that was a Harley Davidson, but I still reckon he was cheating.’

  Denny was cheating now. After all, they were. No truck in the history of the world could go that fast.

  Five hundred – six – seven hundred miles per hour. No human could have stood it for long, fortunately Denny was not exactly human. But still, he was afraid he was going to lose them.

  They obviously knew he was after them, but fortunately seven hundred seemed to be their limit. Enjoying himself immensely, although he would never admit it, Denny gunned the engine – which had long since run out of fuel – and passed them, swerving the bike to an expert stop right in front of the truck which skidded alarmingly and began to spin.

  Denny leapt off the bike and caught the side of the spinning truck; he hauled himself up onto the footboard and put his heel down onto the asphalt using it as a brake until the vehicle came to a screeching stop.

  Without pausing for breath, he jumped down and wrenched the driver’s door open. ‘Bugger off,’ he suggested to the driver, who did so with alacrity, as did the guard in the passenger seat.

  There were two more guards in the back of the vehicle who also appreciated Denny’s suggestion and the opportunity to act upon it. They would, no doubt, have been less generous if the circumstances had been reversed, but Denny was no murderer.

  Denny surveyed the shaking passengers and decided that they would be all right. They were shaken up, and there were a few cuts and bruises but nothing serious. They were all gawping at him in astonishment, but he barely registered this anymore, it was an all too common reaction these days.

  A teenage boy hopped off the truck and beamed in elation. ‘Wow!’ he said. ‘That was so-oo, cool! That was like just so- oo cool!’

  ‘Denny gave him a wry grin. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Don’t try this at home folks.’

  He handed the keys to a solid looking citizen. ‘Truck’s yours now,’ he said. ‘Here,’ he handed the man a card. ‘This is the address of an undercover group that’ll hide you. It’s up to you of course, but you aren’t safe in your homes anymore.’

  The man took the card in a bemused fashion.

  ‘But aren’t you going to take us?’ said a woman coming forward and giving Denny a look of embarrassing devotion.

  Denny turned away. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You’ll be okay now. I have to get going. Er … sorry.’ And he ran for it. Some things were scarier than others. Hordes of Nephelim – no problem. Adoring admirers– terrifying. He was not going through all that again.

  He looked back, though, just for a second. ‘Drive carefully,’ he said and gunned the bike and shot off at the speed of light.

  * * *

  ‘Time I returned this,’ said Tamar, holding up the Rheingold. ‘I kept meaning to do it, but I never seemed to get around to it.’

  ‘I suppose I should go with you,’ said Cindy resignedly. ‘To apologise or something.’ She shrugged. It was hard to know what she could possibly say – especially to Woglinde.

  Tamar held up the ring. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘It’s almost a pity that we can’t use this. Any port in a storm you know, and right now, I’d say we need all the help we can get.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she added. ‘Denny and I will take it back. You don’t need to go.’

  ‘Not Denny,’ said Cindy sagely. ‘You don’t want him near those Rhine maidens. I mean they were distracted the last time they saw him but …’ She shrugged expressively.

  ‘You mean no magical woman can resist him?’ said Tamar with a laugh. ‘I’m not too worried about the girls. They’re too self-involved to cause that kind of trouble.’

  ‘So was I,’ Cindy pointed out.

  ‘No-o,’ said Tamar thoughtfully. ‘You never were really, not like they are – they take vanity to a whole new level believe me … But okay, I’ll go alone if it’ll make you feel better.’

  ‘I have to come too,’ said Cindy. ‘I have a lot of apologies to make. Gotta start somewhere.’

  ‘Well,’ said Tamar, thinking it over. ‘I wouldn’t have made you do it. But on the whole I think it’s the right decision.’

  ‘I was about due,’ said Cindy.

  The waters of the Rhine were churning discontentedly.

  ‘It’s been like this for… ever since … Let’s just say they aren’t pleased,’ finished Tamar awkwardly. She looked at the ring in her hand thoughtfully. ‘You know I’m not so sure we should hand it back in this condition,’ she said, and she closed her hand tightly over the ring and clenched hard. When she opened her palm, a small lump of gold sat there instead of the shiny ring.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Seeing it as a ring … well, its oil on the flame really, isn’t it?’

  Cindy was shaking with nerves by this point and really could not give a decent answer to this.

  Then Tamar called the Rhine maidens.

  It need not be said that they were not best pleased to see Cindy, at least at first. But when Tamar handed back the gold, they did thaw out a bit.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Cindy. ‘I don’t know what else to say.’

  ‘Maybe a vault in the futu
re,’ put in Tamar. ‘I mean it’s not as if this was the first time this had happened.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Flosshilde. ‘And if memory serves, it was Woglinde’s fault the last time too.’

  ‘It wasn’t her fault,’ said Cindy. ‘I never intended to steal it – not at first. It was just when I saw it, and I was feeling so… at the time. But she couldn’t have known what I would do. I didn’t know it myself.’

  ‘Huh,’ said Wellgunde. ‘That’s what you say now… Anyway at least you brought it back.’ She shrugged. ‘So I suppose we have to forgive you, since you are sorry.’ Her voice dripped with acidic sarcasm as she said this last part.

  There was an awkward silence that was eventually broken by Woglinde. ‘So,’ she piped up suddenly. ‘Where’s that nice young man I saw you with the last time we met, you know, the blond one? You didn’t bring him with you, did you?’ she added hopefully, looking around her.

  ‘I told you,’ said Cindy. ‘What did I tell you?’

  ‘I’m getting him a T-shirt printed,’ said Tamar crossly when they got back, ‘that reads “PROPERTY OF TAMAR BLACK”.’

  ‘Why?’ said Cindy. ‘He never sees anyone but you. I should know. And if you do that, you’ll have to wear one too. I mean it happens to you all the time too – more really. I mean, it’s all types with you, magical or not, but you never see him getting all bent out of shape about it.’

  ‘He isn’t the jealous type,’ said Tamar. ‘I am.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Cindy. ‘I reckon if you didn’t give them all the old ice maiden treatment he might be a bit bothered.’

  ‘Just a bit?’ said Tamar, with a slightly plaintive edge to her voice.

  ‘We-ell, just enough to break their arms and legs maybe,’ said Cindy.

  ‘He’ll never have to,’ said Tamar complacently, having got the answer she wanted.

  ‘Never say never,’ warned Cindy.

  * * *

  Having made a beginning on her apologies Cindy had one more to make, and this was a big one.

  It was almost like a ceremony. Cindy knelt before Hecaté and begged her forgiveness for straying from the path. Hecate’s eyes were cold and Tamar and Denny looked at each other and shuddered at the look on her face. They had never seen her like this before. A goddess, and an angry goddess at that. Only Stiles had ever seen her like this, just once. Stiles, who was now lying in a hospital bed only a few feet away, in part, because of what Cindy had done.

  Suddenly Denny felt a firm pressure on his hand. Tamar was gripping it so hard that she was cutting the blood off; she was white to the lips.

  Suddenly Cindy raised her head. ‘No I suppose not,’ she muttered. ‘If I deserved forgiveness then I wouldn’t have to beg for it. But I don’t, do I?’

  Hecaté smiled suddenly. ‘Now you do,’ she said. ‘But you will have to continue to earn it every day of your life from now on. You understand that, do you not?’

  Cindy fell on her face.

  ‘I do not mean by your abasement,’ said Hecaté. ‘I mean by righting the wrongs you have done. We will all help you. We are your friends Cindy. Get up now.’

  Tamar breathed out. Even Denny looked relieved. Just for a moment there, there had been doubt. They had, just for a moment, seen another side of Hecaté to the one they knew, the vengeful goddess within had emerged and there had been a definite possibility of smiting.

  Tamar had realised this might happen before they came here. She had known of this aspect of Hecaté, Denny understood with a shock, it was the reason for the white face and clenched knuckles. The question was – had Cindy? On reflection he believed she had. She was braver than he had thought then, if that were true.

  ‘Well,’ he said afterwards as they walked out of the hospital just like normal people, ‘I suppose if you’re going to be struck down by a god, the hospital’s the place for it. I mean the morgue’s only downstairs.’

  Tamar showed her disapproval of this tasteless remark by her stony silence.

  ‘That doctor’s checking you out,’ he said suddenly with a wicked twinkle in his eye. ‘Want me to beat him up?’

  ‘He’s allowed to look,’ said Tamar calmly.

  ‘No secrets in our house,’ she thought irritably.

  ‘I can’t say I like it, though,’ said Denny seriously. ‘But there’s nothing I can do about it, is there?’

  Tamar smiled. There would be no need for the T-shirt after all.

  * * *

  It had all gone quiet. At least that was how it seemed – until they heard about New York. Ashtoreth had got quite excited about New York it seemed; decided that he had found Babylon. He cited the statue of liberty as the largest false idol in the world and had it torn down and smashed to bits before raining fire and brimstone down on the city.

  Liberty, he said was not a proper goal for mankind, not a right ideal to worship. Obedience was the first virtue, and those who worshipped at the altar of Lady Liberty were the most corrupt people in the world. Just look at the way they behaved.

  The problem was that it was quite hard to argue with the logic of this argument. You knew it was wrong; it was just hard to say exactly why it was wrong.

  ‘I thought he thought we were the centre of all evil,’ said Denny after hearing all this.

  ‘I thought that all large cities were the centre of corruption in their own little corners of the world,’ said Tamar. ‘Just goes to show you doesn’t it?

  ‘Aaaaaagh!’ Denny pulled at his hair in frustration. ‘We can’t let this go on. We just can’t. What do we do? If he carries on like this, he’s just going to blow up the whole world and be done with it.’

  Tamar closed her eyes. ‘We stop fighting,’ she said. ‘And we concentrate all our efforts into finding him and stopping him. It’s not as if we’re making much of a dent by fighting anyway.’

  ‘We’ve tried to find him. We can’t.’

  ‘Not hard enough obviously,’ said Tamar. ‘We’ve allowed ourselves to be distracted trying to take out his army piecemeal. This is bigger than that. We can’t save the world one person at a time, not this time.’

  ‘I suppose he’s got to be somewhere,’ conceded Denny wearily. ‘So where haven’t we looked?’

  ~ Chapter Sixteen ~

  Jack had never walked the halls of mainframe before. It was quite an experience. The layers of reality that overlapped made it difficult to keep your footing. He wondered how Tamar and Denny could be so blasé about it. He was finding it horribly disorienting. It had taken him a week to get up the nerve to do this, and now he was almost wishing he had not.

  Any file would do. The point was to escape the mainframe into a different place – one that existed apart from reality. Denny had gone to Hell. Jack wanted to get into Heaven.

  Faeries do not go to Heaven; it is not their proper sphere. He wondered how he would like it. Not at all, he suspected, and there was a fair chance that, if he was discovered, he would be ejected without ceremony.

  ‘My Father,’ he blasphemed. ‘It’s just like all the pictures. White fluffy clouds and everything.’

  Even the fabled Pearly Gates. There was an intercom. Jack shook his head in disbelief. Well, there was certainly no question him of announcing his arrival. He spread his wings and fluttered gently over the gates. There was no one around.

  ‘Must be further in,’ he muttered, looking around, and he chose a direction and began to walk. It was like walking on a thin sheet of glass that was just under water, his feet sank a little way under the surface before they hit resistance. Only these were fluffy clouds not water, and he found that he could kick up small cotton wool-like tufts, as he walked, like autumn leaves.

  After a while, he became aware that he was surrounded by wraith like presences. He did not know what they were, but they were all heading in the same direction with definite purpose. Very definite – they were in trememdous hurry. He decided to follow the crowd. They led him eventually to – ‘What the…?’ He stared in shatter
ed disbelief. Rising high before him were the Pearly Gates.

  The wraith like figures passed through and continued on, further in.

  Jack gathered his wits and followed them. He continued following until once again they came to the gates.

  What the hell was going on, he wondered. Was heaven built like a puzzle box? Worlds inside worlds on and on ad infinitum.

  Was this how the virtuous spent their eternity? Some reward!

  He realised at this point that the wraith like figures around him were the departed souls making their way through the many levels of Heaven. Perhaps it was a different experience for them – a spiritual journey of some kind that had a meaning on a level that he just could not see. Perhaps they could see things here that he never could. Maybe each of them was having a very different experience. It was an intriguing thought. But what it also was, was a not particularly helpful conclusion.

  He decided he had no choice. The intercom was apparently for visitors. At least, the dearly departed had made no use of it. Although how many visitors could Heaven get? And who? However, he was a visitor, and he clearly was not getting to the management this way. He would have to use it after all.

  He pushed the buzzer. A burly and unfriendly looking angel manifested and looked down his nose at him. ‘Yes?’ he said in a supercilious tone. ‘Can I help you?’

  Jack immediately wished he was invisible. He had never suffered from excessive vanity, despite his handsome looks. But it was hard to be made to feel as if you were as ugly as a deformed toad and as worthless as Monopoly money.

  He gathered his courage, what there was left of it, this was important. ‘I want to speak to an angel called Erasmus,’ he choked out.

  ‘Do you?’ said the angel curling his lip.

  ‘It’s all right. Telemenculus,’ said a voice. ‘I’ll speak to him. I know why he is here.’

  The angel disappeared with a dismissive “poof”