by R. D. Brady
And this specimen was magnificent. It would be a shame to destroy him.
But I can always make more.
Amar leaped, landing on the tree limb above Titus, then swung to the next tree.
Titus prowled below. He ran for the tree and leapt, but couldn’t make the branch himself.
Amar swung to the branch above the cat. Titus leapt again. As Titus’s paws returned to the ground, Amar dropped onto the giant cat’s back.
Raising his arms, Amar drove both of his claws into Titus’s sides. The cat screamed, trying to shake Amar loose. But Amar held on, twisting his claws in the feline’s sides, his arms now slick with blood.
Titus lumbered to one side. Amar pulled out his claws and then plunged them in again, this time higher, into Titus’s back. Titus made no sound, just fell heavily to the ground.
Amar climbed from the leopard’s back, going eye to eye with the great cat. Titus stared back at him, and Amar could swear he saw hate in the leopard’s eyes. Amused, Amar watched until the life drained from the cat’s face.
Amar straightened with a smile, looking down at the majestic beast. Nicely done. I think I’ll have your head mounted on my wall.
But he discounted the thought almost as soon as he had it. The beast was only doing what its nature encouraged. There was nothing special in the animal.
A noise, like a small whimper, pulled Amar’s attention back to the spot where he’d been ambushed. Amar walked over, wondering what it was that had drawn him there. He came to a stop at the base of the tree and looked at the bloody mess below him.
It was one of the human guards—the who had let Gerard in earlier. Both of the man’s arms had been yanked off, the blood loss considerable. But he was still alive.
Amar followed the blood trail with his eyes; it led off to the right, disappearing into the bushes. Then he glanced back at Titus’s carcass with a little laugh. You little bastard. You laid a trap.
Amar’s admiration increased. Maybe he would mount the beast’s head on his wall after all.
“Help me,” the man croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper.
Amar knelt down. “Of course I’ll help you.”
The man’s eyes grew large.
Amar smiled before burying his claws in the man’s chest.
CHAPTER 45
By the time Victoria and Laney got back to the house, any good feelings Laney had had at the beginning of the walk had disappeared. Her thoughts were now of Samyaza, the devil incarnate.
That chilling thought warred with the tale of the Fallen’s arrival. The story of the Fallen was the same as the story of Lucifer’s fall from grace. She just hadn’t put it together before—or maybe she had been intentionally ignoring the similarity.
In fact, no one had mentioned the similarity between the Book of Enoch’s tale and the Bible tale. She was pretty sure they were all turning a blind eye. Going up against Fallen angels was difficult enough. Believing you were going up against the devil himself was a whole other world of terrifying.
Ahead of her, Victoria opened the door to the kitchen. Warmth flowed out into the night air. Laney breathed it in, along with the aroma of Italian spices.
As she stepped inside, the fireplace on the right was roaring away. Ralph glanced up from the stove. He smiled at Laney, and then his eyes shifted to Victoria, concern in them. Victoria nodded ever so slightly at him.
For the first time, Laney realized there was more to Victoria and Ralph’s relationship. Was it just a friendship? Or was there something else there?
Ralph placed a giant tray of garlic bread on the island, next to salad and the antipasto tray. Henry, Jake and Patrick stood around the island, drinks in hand, talking. It was a cheery scene, which warred with the dark thoughts of Samyaza still swirling around Laney’s mind.
Laney couldn’t miss the look of happiness on Henry’s face at seeing Laney walk in with Victoria. She gave him a smile before she walked over to Jake and hugged him.
Jake whispered, “Nice talk?”
Laney struggled not to laugh. “Oh, sure. The nature of the Fallen and a fact-or-fiction chat about the existence of the devil. Real mother-daughter stuff.”
Jake kissed her forehead. “Well, you have to start somewhere.”
“Dinner is served.” Ralph placed a large tray of lasagna on the island, next to the garlic bread. Laney nearly swooned. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
Everyone loaded up a plate before taking a seat at the table. And by unwritten consent, no one mentioned rings, angels, or anything else having to do with their current predicament. Laney was relieved. She needed a little more time before they continued the conversation on her birthright.
While they ate, her uncle told more than one story about Laney when she was growing up. Victoria did the same for Henry. Laney noticed her uncle’s attitude toward Victoria had softened. She wouldn’t say they were the best of friends, but there definitely was a bond of some sort forming there now.
Laney sighed, thinking of how impersonal her conversation with Victoria had been. Maybe she, too, should cut Victoria a break. Letting go of her child couldn’t have been an easy decision for her to make.
Jake leaned over, whispering in her ear. “You all right?”
Laney looked into his eyes, reading the love there. She took his hand with a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. I’m good.”
Laney felt a gaze on her. She turned to catch Victoria watching her and Jake, a smile on her lips. Laney returned the smile.
“Well, I hate to break this up,” Victoria said, “but there’s more we need to discuss. How about we adjourn to the study for coffee?”
Oh, great. Time for more earth-shattering revelations from Mom, Laney thought as she stood.
Henry caught her eye and gave her a wink. Laney smiled, knowing Henry had been thinking the exact same thing.
He walked over, offering his arm. “Sis?”
She placed her hand on his forearm. “Let’s go, big brother.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught a tremble in Victoria’s chin as she watched the scene. But Victoria turned away and headed toward the study before Laney could say anything.
Laney and Henry followed behind her, with Jake and Patrick bringing up the rear. Ralph stayed back in the kitchen. Apparently, along with being Victoria’s bodyguard and chef, he also did the dishes. Poor man. Laney hoped he got paid a lot.
In the study, they each took their same spots, but Henry sat next to Victoria this time, rather than leaning against the fireplace.
Victoria looked around at everyone. “I’ve told you about Laney’s destiny. But she’s not the only one with a destiny. No ring bearer goes into battle alone. Jake and Henry, you have a destiny, too.”
Laney felt Jake jolt beside her. Obviously he hadn’t expected this.
“What are you talking about?” Jake asked.
“Every ring bearer that emerges during a critical time is part of a triad. One human”—Victoria nodded toward Jake—“and one more-than-human. They are her protectors. Jake and Henry, you are Laney’s.”
“A triad?” Laney asked, looking at the shocked faces of Henry and Jake. She herself was also shocked, but comforted as well. It was nice to know she wasn’t alone in this whole “fate has a plan for you” thing.
“Castor and Pollux,” Jake said quietly. “They were Helen’s.”
Victoria nodded. “Yes. Throughout their lives, they protected her time and time again. They were always by her side and on her side.”
“All ring bearers have protectors?” Patrick asked.
“Yes. But they are always different people in their lives. Family, friends, strangers. There’s no hard and fast rule, it seems, as to who they are. But they appear when they are needed.”
Laney looked between Jake and Henry. She’d met both last year when two Fallen were trying to kill her. Without their help, she wouldn’t have survived.
“Why a triad?” Henry asked. “Why not an army?”
&
nbsp; Victoria smiled. “There is an army, but the triad is the head of it. Three is always an important number. Right, Patrick?”
Patrick nodded, his hand on his chin. Thinking-man mode. “Three is, of course, important in Catholicism, the trinity being composed of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. In Hinduism, there is an almost analogous concept with the trimurti, or the three deities. In other religions too, three is important: for example, the three jewels of Buddhism, or more generally in the three fates. The rule of three also underlies physics, and even consciousness: the id, the ego and the superego.”
“Or the three stooges,” Jake muttered, low enough for only Laney to hear.
Laney nudged his thigh.
Jake shrugged. “Look, I’ve never been a big fan of numerology. It seems you can find a number sequence that is relevant for anything as long as you look hard enough. How do we know the triad isn’t just that—a convenient interpretation? Maybe there’s nothing special or mystical about three for the ring bearer. Maybe it just happened to be, rather than being destined to be.”
Victoria smiled. “There’s always a skeptic in the group, someone who looks at a problem in a pragmatic way. That’s your job. You’re the present.” She looked at Henry. “You’re the past.” Her eyes shifted to Laney. “And you’re the future. The three sides of the triangle. The triad.”
Laney could feel Jake stiffen beside her. She knew he didn’t like the idea of a destiny being laid at his feet. Jake was independent. He wasn’t going to like thinking that all his decisions up to this point had been irrelevant. That he would have ended up here no matter what he did.
But Victoria was right about three and about triangles. In building, a triangle could bear incredible weight without breaking. Did the same hold true for humans? Were three people an incredibly strong grouping, also able to bear incredible pressure?
“So—as a member of the Triad, what exactly is our job?” Henry asked.
“You keep her safe,” Victoria said. “You protect her so she can do what she’s supposed to do.”
“And what exactly is that?” Laney asked. She knew she was supposed to fight the Fallen, but no one had really mentioned exactly how she was supposed to go about it.
“Lead the forces of good against the forces of dark in the final battle,” Victoria said.
Dread and disbelief settled over Laney. “What? Like some sort of general?”
“Are we talking apocalypse, end of times?” Jake asked.
Victoria’s tone was serious. “If the ring bearer is needed, it means the world has reached a critical time. An end-of-times tipping point. In the past, the ring bearers have managed to push the tide back.” Her eyes found Laney’s. “And now, it is your turn.”
CHAPTER 46
“End of days? We’re talking doomsday scenario, right?” Laney tried not to sound terrified, but she was pretty sure she failed. All she could picture was the stolen folio, the one about the army of Belial. Is that why they stole it? Were they getting ready for war?
Patrick took a look at Laney’s face and seemed to realize this last little tidbit had pushed her over the proverbial edge. He grasped her hand and her eyes flew to his. He smiled. “It’s all right.”
Keeping her hand firmly clenched in his, Patrick turned to Victoria. “But all of this is a moot point without the ring. The ring bearer’s power comes from the ring. How about we focus on finding it first?”
“Yes, of course.” Victoria said, her voice conciliatory. “I’m sorry for laying all of this on you at once. I’ve been living with this for so long, it’s no surprise to me. But to someone hearing it for the first time, it must come as quite a shock.”
Laney nodded. Quite a shock? Victoria had a gift for understatement.
“How about you tell us a little more about one of the past ring bearers? Helen, perhaps,” Patrick said, and Laney could have kissed him. Any topic other than her was a huge relief right now.
“You said Helen created the prison. But when?” Henry asked.
“During the Trojan War,” Victoria said.
“When she was in captivity?” Jake asked. “How’s that possible? Troy is in Turkey and you said the prison was in Egypt. How was she able to build a prison from there?”
Victoria inclined her head. “The Trojan War, as I mentioned before, is not quite what it seemed. During the war, Helen was actually in Egypt creating the prison for the Fallen.”
Laney wasn’t an expert on Helen, but that just didn’t sound right. Next to her, though, had on his thinking-man’s look again. “Uncle?”
He patted her hand. “It’s actually possible. There were rumors that Helen was in fact in Egypt during the war. That she had been switched out for—I guess the closest term would be a doppelganger, who took her place with Paris in Troy.”
Jake spoke up from the other side of her, his tone grudging. “And actually, Helen and Paris did stop in Egypt before continuing on to Troy. King Proteus was furious at Paris for what he had done, and Paris barely escaped. Some argue Helen stayed behind when Paris took off for Troy.”
“So it’s possible?” Henry asked.
Victoria nodded. “It’s more than possible. Helen created a prison for the Fallen. It’s known today as the Serapeum in Saqqara.”
Laney fell back against the couch. The Serapeum. She’d actually visited it once with her uncle and Drew.
Located about thirty kilometers from the Great Pyramid in Giza, Saqqara is a City of the Dead: a city of cemeteries covering nine square kilometers. The Djoser Pyramid was usually the big draw in Saqqara, but the Serapeum had been the fascination for her. It had been undergoing renovations at the time, but her uncle had gotten them special permits to see the site.
“What’s the Serapeum?” Jake asked, interrupting her ruminations.
“It’s an underground necropolis that dates to the Bronze Age, when Helen lived,” Laney said. “Inside, there are twenty-four huge granite sarcophagi and an older section with wooden coffins in small caves in the walls.”
“Sarcophagi? For who?” Jake asked.
“Allegedly for the Apis bulls,” Laney said.
The Apis bulls had been revered in ancient Egypt beginning sometime around 3,100 BC. When an Apis bull was born, Egyptians celebrated for three days. An Apis bull wasn’t considered a mere animal, but the actual living embodiment of a god. The god changed over time, with some saying it was Ptah, others naming it Osiris.
The bull itself had a distinctive appearance: black with a white diamond on its forehead, an eagle on its back, and a scarab under its tongue. And when the bull died, it was given a royal funeral.
“But there has always been a mystery about the Serapeum,” Laney said. “These giant granite coffins for the Apis bulls are all unmarked, except for three. Almost as if someone started putting hieroglyphs on them after they’d been uncovered. In fact, most of them have never been used.”
“But surely the bones of the bulls demonstrate that that’s what they were used for,” Jake countered.
“That’s the strange part,” Laney said. “Bones have only been found in three of the sarcophagi. The rest remain empty. And the granite coffins are way too large for a bull.”
“The wooden coffins in the caves of the Serapeum have been found with mummified bulls,” Patrick interjected. “But no mummified bulls have been found in the granite Serapeum.”
“So why do they think the giant sarcophagi are for the bulls?” Henry asked.
Laney shrugged. “Probably because they couldn’t think of anything else that would fit in them.”
“How big a sarcophagus are we talking?” Jake asked.
Laney pictured the giant sarcophagi in her mind. “You need a ladder to reach the top, and they’re each about twelve feet long and six feet wide.”
“Big enough for me,” Henry said quietly.
All eyes flew to him. Henry was right. Even with his extraordinary height and strength, he wouldn’t be able to move the thirty-five-ton lid.
“The sarcophagi weren’t just coffins. They were jail cells,” Victoria said.
“In Helen’s time, they wouldn’t have been able to kill the Fallen,” Jake nodded, respect in his voice. “The weapons were rudimentary to say the least: swords, spears. We’ve only been able to kill them with an automatic to the heart. So they came up with the next best option.”
Laney darted a glance to Henry and away. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Henry had killed Gideon with a piece of metal. He’d shoved it into his chest with such force that the Fallen’s heart had been all but obliterated.
“They can at times be killed without the aid of a gun,” Henry said quietly.
Laney nodded at him before turning back to Victoria. “Were there any Fallen or nephilim working on Helen’s side?”
“A few. Just like today.”
“Her brother, Pollux,” Jake said.
Laney looked over at him. “And Castor?”
Jake shook his head. “No. Just Pollux. Pollux was alleged to be the son of Zeus. Castor was mortal.”
Patrick nodded. “You have to remember, the Bronze Age was the age of heroes and gods. There are tales of incredible strength and abilities. Maybe the gods and the heroes were more than human.”
“Some were. Some weren’t,” Victoria said. “Some were simply figments of people’s imagination. But it was much harder to kill the Fallen back then. In fact, they didn’t know how to do it. They weren’t even sure if it could be done.”
“So how did they get the Fallen to Egypt?” Henry asked.
Victoria smiled. “Poison. It was Helen’s idea. She knew they couldn’t fight the Fallen the whole way to Egypt. Once they went down, she needed them to stay down. So she had them continually poisoned until they were in their coffins. Then they sealed them in tight. And they stayed there until they died. When they were reduced to only bone, their bones were smashed to dust.”
“Achilles. The great hero. He was poisoned—brought down by an arrow to the heel,” Patrick said.
Victoria nodded. “He was believed to be immortal. No weapon could take him down. He was the fiercest of fighters.”
