Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3)

by Aaron Babbitt

  “So what is the opinion of the Council?” Abbie asked.

  “I do not believe that this is the appropriate time to enlist the aid of the Society of Minds,” Salmar declared firmly.

  “Nor do I,” Zeng Wei agreed. “They have proven themselves adept at hiding. They may truly not need our help. For that matter, we may not even be able to find them to propose cooperation. It’s going to take enormous amounts of time and manpower to accomplish this task, two commodities we do not have in abundance.”

  Abbie looked imploringly at Nagina. “Two against. What do you say?”

  Nagina slowly made eye contact. “Abbie, there is no reason to believe that the Society has any kind of real support aside from Raul Habsburg. I would gladly invite him to our meetings, but we both know he wouldn’t come. Until Raul’s reappearance and Nisus’s claim that they belonged to the Society, we would never have guessed that this group was still active. I think that allying with the Society of Minds might work in the future. However, right now, neither side could afford such an alliance. Let them hide as long as they can.”

  This seemed to get Nathan’s attention. “Did she say Society of Mimes? Now, that sounds terrifying. I definitely vote against getting friendly with some mimes.”

  “Sophie,” Abbie said, “speak wisdom to them.”

  “To be honest, Abbie,” Sophie responded hesitantly. “I have my doubts, too. I find myself wondering how much of your want to include the Society is rooted in a personal desire to be near Raul.”

  Abbie looked almost incensed when she replied, “I shouldn’t think that coincidence would invalidate my argument. I’m not going to pretend that I have no feelings for him, but those feelings shouldn’t be cause for us to ignore the greater benefit of this group we should be embracing as family. But the Council has clearly chosen against me, so I will not speak about this any further at this time.”

  “We’re not against you, Abbie,” Nagina responded defensively.

  “Actually, I am,” Nathan reminded everybody, standing up and pointing to his chest.

  “Insufferable is what you are,” Nagina growled at him.

  Abbie waved her hand dismissively. “You play into his game when you respond. I find that it infuriates him more if I ignore him. And I know you’re not against me. I apologize; I didn’t think before I spoke. You are opposed to my plan and its timing. I understand, and I’ll be all right. This is not the first time the Council of Elders has voted me down. Just don’t think you’ve heard the end of this.”

  “I don’t think any of us would be so foolish,” Salmar agreed with a grin.

  “Well, I suppose that’s all the news I’m aware of,” Abbie concluded. “Is there any other business?” She waited a few moments before continuing, “Then, I declare this meeting of the Elder Prophets adjourned. We all have much to do.”

  ***

  John, Gregor, and Dylan sat on the porch of the house and watched as two hundred prophets worked together to build some kind of structure. From where they were sitting, it looked like it was going to be pretty big, but Dylan couldn’t figure out what the prophets were trying to make.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” he asked.

  It was John who answered. “They’re making shelter. Missouri winters can get ugly, and we’re not quite out of this one yet. As more and more prophets arrive, the Elder Prophets have had the challenge of trying to house them. There are some who have gone into town, and they’re staying in motels or renting houses. Actually, I think a few had some money and bought a house, where several of them are staying.” He motioned to the prophets at work in there next to them. “Those same prophets have built every building on this property except for the house we’re sitting in front of and that decrepit, old barn over there.”

  Dylan looked around and saw four other buildings that looked about the same size as what the prophets were constructing now. He hadn’t been paying very much attention earlier and assumed them to be barns. However, now he definitely saw people of all ages and varieties coming out of them.

  “So they’re all just going to live here?”

  “Prophets seek safety in numbers,” John replied. “It usually works for them.”

  “Yeah,” Gregor agreed, “usually. I saw an operation like this one burn to the ground a few days ago. Eighty-seven prophets died in the assault itself. I don’t know how many got away. They all think they’ll be safe here though. I don’t know. Maybe we can do something. This will definitely be the biggest stand we’ve made so far. And I have to applaud these prophets. If nothing else, they’re resilient and tenacious.”

  “The demons don’t typically go after large groups of prophets,” John continued. “The chance for failure is too great, as is the chance of being recognized by the public for what they really are. The prophets may not be able to rally the mortals to fight for them, but the demons surely couldn’t pull it off. They could, perhaps, scare the mortals into fighting for them, though I don’t think it would last very long. And neither side can win this war without the mortals, so as long as the demons remain mostly faceless, the mortals will remain doubtful. An all-out attack on us would validate everything we said about them, and the mortals would have to make a choice. The prophets, of course, would be the better choice, but the fear the demons will create might prove more persuasive.”

  Dylan thought for a moment on this, then remembered a question he had been meaning to ask. “Garrett spoke of someone named Malachi when he was talking to the Elder Prophets. Who is that?”

  Gregor chuckled. “About twenty-five hundred years ago, Malachi was a Hebrew Elder Prophet. For hundreds of years, he was the leader of the Council. Then, the legends say, angered from having seen so many loved ones die at the hands of demons, he forced his way into the League of Hunters. He wasn’t actually a demon hunter, but he proved himself to be just as effective as the other ranking hunters in finding and killing the fiends—maybe more. And he still had his position on the Council.

  “In 1291, he had enough clout in the League to pull off his apparent goal. He united the two groups and went on a crusade against all demons. The prophets were opposed to the union and its purpose, but Malachi didn’t care. The demon hunters taught the prophets how to combat their enemies more effectively and led them into battle. By the turn of the century, less than ten thousand demons had been banished. Whereas, we lost twenty-five thousand prophets, five thousand demon hunters, and fifteen thousand mortals—mostly poor souls caught in the wrong place at the wrong time—in the biggest supernatural war on record.

  “The last battle, outside of Constantinople, was an awakening for the prophets and demon hunters. So many people had died to kill so few demons that the Elder Prophet Council declared Malachi unfit to continue as its leader and immediately ceased hostilities against the demons. Needless to say, he was furious. It took the entire Council to restrain him, but they did. He swore that he would kill them all until they locked him in a field of temporal stasis. They sealed off the hall they had regularly met in for the last five hundred years and posted guards to keep anyone from discovering their secret. To the eyes of the public, Malachi had simply been lost in combat.

  “Demons and prophets alike worked for many years to undo the damage they had caused and to once again go into hiding. It has always been in everyone’s best interest to let mortals remain ignorant of supernatural affairs as much as possible. I’ve even heard it said that Metatron and the Elder Prophet Council met and agreed to a temporary cease-fire as they worked to erase the war from human history altogether.

  “With all of their resources and power, the Elder Prophet Council soon did exactly that. Afterwards, demons and prophets both found means to affect mortals without getting immediately involved. Both groups became clandestine and faceless.

  “About fifty years ago, seventy years after the last person who knew of his imprisonment died, Malachi resurfaced. His transformation was complete, and he was wholly evil. This time, he wanted to be a
god. He’d learned from his attempt to eradicate the demons; he would use the demons as tools to accomplish a similar end instead of hunters and prophets.

  “Malachi then enslaved some of Metatron’s demons to be used to wreak havoc. He knew that their presence would be detected and that, soon, they would attract demon hunters to him. The demons were easily corruptible, and the prophets were already too weak to really protect themselves without help, so Malachi chose to eliminate the demon hunters first. In his mind, if the demon hunters were gone, and he could control a moderately-sized demonic horde, he could easily wipe out the Elder Prophets and slay any prophet who would not follow him willingly.

  “He lured the demon hunters to him one by one and slaughtered them outright. When we learned who was behind the murders, the League didn’t know what to do. The League of Hunters had sworn to protect mortals and prophets from demons. And we’ve sworn never to hurt them unless it is in direct self-defense or to get at a demon. Even then, we are never to kill them. At least, that’s the tradition.

  “I, for one, told Garrett that I had no intention of standing idly by as Malachi killed us off one at a time. But he wouldn’t go after the corrupted prophet because of the oath he’d made, and thirty-six demon hunters died before Malachi was finally stopped by the Elder Prophet Council, some prophet friends I’d met in San Francisco, and myself. Today, including you and a few other recent additions to our family, there are only nineteen demon hunters on the planet. Most of them are protecting the remaining locales of importance. My post was protection for the prophet safe house in San Francisco, for instance. Garrett usually protects our base of operations and serves as backup for hunters in distress.”

  “Wow,” Dylan said when it looked like Gregor had finished. He was suddenly aware of the peril the demon hunters were in. “So we desperately need a boost in numbers.”

  “That’s right,” Gregor agreed, “and it is most fortunate for us that someone finally found a way to convince the old man that this is the right course,” he added, patting Dylan on the back. “I could never do it. I guess, in the end, he had to see walking proof for himself. There is help out there; we will just have to seek it.”

  Then, Gregor’s attention was drawn to the driveway outside the house, where an almost laughable motorcade of a maroon SUV and four Kingstone Police Department cruisers had pulled in. The one John had identified as Higgins was taking six mercenaries, who were clearly armed but not yet brandishing their weapons, to investigate.

  “You think we should go with them?” John asked.

  Gregor nodded, grunting tiredly as he got up. “I suppose so.”

  Higgins didn’t miss the move and stopped for a moment to look to them for guidance. John waved his hand, and Higgins nodded, signaling his men to fall back. The police were escorting a woman toward them.

  “Do you know her?” Gregor inquired of John.

  “No.”

  “Are the local cops going to be an issue?”

  John smiled as he looked over at Gregor to confirm the hunter was serious. “I doubt it.”

  “John,” the woman called, “my name is Catherine Harper. I’m the Mayor of Kingstone.”

  Gregor stopped and signaled Dylan to do the same, while John walked forward and extended his hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mayor Harper.”

  She glanced over at the mercenaries, then at the laboring prophets, some of whom had stopped building when they saw the procession arrive. “Quite an operation you have going on here,” she observed. “What are your intentions?”

  “I’ve think I have made our intentions known. They’re not secret. Do you wish to know if they have changed?”

  Mayor Harper seemed a little uncertain about how to interpret John’s reply. “You should start from the bottom and work your way up. I’ll tell you to stop when I have questions.”

  John considered this for a moment and said, “Fair enough, but there are other people you should probably be talking to.”

  “Oh?” The mayor looked at Gregor and Dylan.

  “No, inside. But your friends will have to stay out here.”

  A short, older police officer with a buzz cut stepped forward and announced, “I know most of the judges in this county, and any one of them would give me a warrant if I asked for one. I could get in that house if I wanted to.”

  John only smiled knowingly.

  Harper studied John for a moment, and, for some reason she couldn’t explain, she felt she could trust him. “Chief Owens, I don’t think that will be necessary.” To John, she added, “Will I be safe in there?”

  “Safer than anywhere else on the planet,” John answered without reservation.

  “Who will I be speaking to?”

  John did pause before replying this time. “The people who will be protecting your town,” he said, finally, before waving her up the stone walkway to the house.

  Catherine Harper followed John, Gregor, and Dylan to the front door. The dejected police officers stayed where they were, almost bewildered by what had transpired. Higgins, who had approached at the tail end of the conversation, stood menacingly close by, so they didn’t even have to wonder if they were being watched. Gregor stopped at the door and stood guard there.

  ***

  Eva pulled the car she was driving to a stop on the shoulder outside of Kingstone. She saw the abandoned service station Patheus had told her about, but it didn’t look like Ephippas was anywhere around, and she couldn’t sense him in the area either. Patheus had said that Ephippas was manning the front lines with a skeleton crew of mortal mercenaries. And this was the place he said they should be, but obviously no one was around. There were two cars and a van parked outside. Nevertheless, she could feel no human or demon presence for a very long way. Neither did she sense prophets close by.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she pulled the car off the shoulder and drove to the station. As she stopped in front of the station, she noted that there were no lights on, and the building’s roof was completely covered with snow from a recent storm, implying that there was no heat running inside the building. Sighing, she decided that she should investigate.

  From the door, her keen eyes saw blood spatter on the walls inside.

  “This ought to be interesting,” she told herself as she opened the unlocked door.

  It only took her a few moments to find where the blood had come from. There were five mangled human bodies on the floor. Some of them looked to have been beaten against the walls. One of them had been dismembered, and another had been crushed flat by something.

  She had no doubt that this was the handiwork of Ephippas. His body was nowhere to be found, and he was capable of doing everything that Eva saw around her. She still had no idea why he would kill his own mercenaries and sever contact with Patheus, but she thought it might be an exciting little mystery.

  As for Patheus, he didn’t have to know quite yet about the possible treachery. This would be a fun side excursion while she decided which one of Alex’s friends to kill and how. She giggled when she thought about poisoning Matt. How would his super-speed and martial cunning be useful then? Or perhaps she could lure Elizabeth somewhere to be savagely ripped apart by demons. She would have to contemplate which would demoralize Alex the most.

  In the meantime, however, she planned to make use of this intriguing new twist. She already had some guesses, but it would take some investigation to confirm any of them. All in all, this promised to be an entertaining mission to say the least.

  ***

  It was only shortly after the meeting with the prophets and demon hunters had concluded that Mary entered to make breakfast. Abbie, Alex, Liz, and Nathan remained, while the others left to begin preparations for hunting parties or see to other business.

  “Good morning, Mom,” Alex said, giving Mary a peck on the cheek.

  “Morning, all,” she returned, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. “I hope everyone’s hungry.”

  “Indeed,” Abbie concurred. “
May I help with something? I’ve never been much in the kitchen, but I’m glad to do whatever you might need.”

  Garrett and the Elder Prophets were exiting the house as Gregor and John were escorting Mayor Harper inside. After a moment for exchanged looks of bewilderment, everyone continued in the directions they were headed, with Garrett commenting to Gregor and John, “When you’re free, please join us outside.”

  Gregor nodded, and everyone shuffled around each other to enter or exit the house.

  “Sure,” Mary answered Abbie, pointing to a carton of eggs. “If you want, start cracking those eggs for me. I think I have a plastic bowl above the sink.”

  “Mary?” Catherine Harper asked as she walked through, looking twice to make sure.

  Mary Tanner turned around at the mention of her name and looked surprised as the Mayor of Kingstone walked forward to embrace her old friend.

  “Catherine? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to speak to someone in charge.” Then, she noticed Alex, and her jaw dropped.

  Alex acknowledged her with a nod of his head. “Mayor Harper.”

  “Mayor Harper? Not Mrs. Harper, or even Catherine? Alex, you and Danny run track together every year. You eat at my house at least twice a month. I’ve known you since you were ten years old. I bawled like a baby at your funeral. Well, I guess it wasn’t even your funeral after all. Who the hell did we bury?”

  Abbie stepped forward, wiping egg from her hand with a towel. “I’m afraid we’re responsible for that unfortunate diversion. Alex and his family had nothing to do with it. My name is Abigail Martin; I’m a member of an ancient organization that watches over and guides humanity and has since society existed, the Elder Prophet Council. We are truly sorry for any inconvenience that we may have caused you, but time was of the essence, and our secrets were entirely too important to endanger.” She nodded in Alex’s direction.