Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3)

by Aaron Babbitt

  “If you’re implying that we knew all along that Alex wasn’t dead,” James answered a little bitterly, “then you must think my wife and I are remarkable actors.”

  By this time, everyone except Mary had found a place at the table and was sitting. No one interfered in the conversation between Catherine and the Tanners.

  “I’m not implying anything,” Mayor Harper responded quickly. “I was just asking a question. I think that, as the mayor of this town and a friend of yours, you would understand why I have to know for sure.”

  “Yes, we thought he was dead,” Mary answered with finality. “Now we know he isn’t, and we couldn’t be happier. So who would like coffee?”

  “Are you prophets?” Catherine directed to the Tanners, ignoring the coffee query.

  “No parent of a prophet is a prophet him or herself,” Abbie said. “Prophets are not capable of reproduction, with other prophets or with mortals. It is one of the drawbacks of being chosen to perform some task. Said task must be ever-present in the prophet’s mind. Our time cannot be consumed by anything, including family, unfortunately. As such, most prophets lead pretty solitary lives. For myself, I have too often seen people I care about, prophets and mortals, used or killed to get to me. It’s arguably wrong for me to bring a child into this world even if I could.”

  “So, that’s a no?”

  “Yeah,” James replied, “that’s a no. I have no special powers...except to cook some mean eggs. You should try some and be satisfied that the good guys are here, rather than ask so many damned questions.”

  “James,” Mary chided softly, “don’t be rude. We can’t expect her to just jump on top of this immediately. It hasn’t even been twenty minutes since she walked into this house. She’s a servant of the people, and the people have a right to know what’s going on—at least to some degree.”

  Catherine nodded at Mary. “Thank you.”

  “That being said,” Mary continued, “the eggs are good, and we will have plenty of time to talk about whatever you want to talk about after breakfast.”

  “All right,” Catherine agreed, picking up her plate and dishing some eggs onto it. “It would seem I’ve completely been in the dark for some time. I suppose I can wait a little longer.”

  “Good,” Mary replied with a smile. “What can I get you to drink?”

  ***

  A man at least seven feet tall with long, unkempt, black hair and just as scraggly of a beard bore down on the demon in a frenzy. He looked to be completely comprised of muscle and could have weighed in the vicinity of three hundred pounds. The blade he wielded was almost five feet long and one foot wide. It didn’t so much cut his enemies apart as its velocity and weight simply smashed them to pieces.

  The sword came down on the demon’s collarbone and pulverized most of its right side. The monster collapsed to a heap on the ground. Leaving the sword where it was, the enormous man grasped the demon by the neck and lifted it up.

  “My name is Chiron, fiend,” the man explained in a deep voice. “I am a member of the League of Hunters, and I was under the impression that your kind wasn’t allowed here.”

  “Hunters,” the greenish, metallic creature spat at him. “You are only shadows now. Your demise is imminent.”

  Chiron furrowed his eyebrows. “The situation in which you now find yourself would seem to indicate otherwise.”

  He let go of the demon and grabbed the hilt of his sword with both hands. With a hard yank, he removed it and used the momentum to swing all the way around and decapitate his adversary before it could even realize what was happening.

  The demon hunter stood over the corpse long enough to ensure that it was, in fact, dead. Then, he turned to find the track again. Garrett had masked himself well, but he’d left tell-tale signs for hunters to pick up on, especially hunters he had trained personally.

  Chiron examined the ground for traces of footprints. Of course, Garrett’s were indeterminable, but Chiron had been following a set of smaller ones from north of Kingstone, the new protégé no doubt.

  He knew he was close to the prophet safe house and close to the one who had summoned him. The message had been one of the utmost urgency. The hunt was on.

  ***

  Mayor Harper stirred her coffee slowly as she tried to cope with what she’d come to believe was true regarding her quiet, little town. Things would get worse before they got better. No solution anyone offered squelched her real concern: How would they keep out a power-hungry president and his Attorney General watchdog when it became evident the local governments wouldn’t play ball? All the talk of demons and angels made her head swim. There was a real-world problem that no one had seemed to consider.

  “We can’t let this turn into a federal matter,” Catherine decided aloud, breaking the momentary thoughtful silence.

  Abbie looked up from the table at her. “It was my understanding that it already is.”

  “Only in that you have attracted their attention,” she corrected. “They’re pushing the governor to contain you, but he doesn’t want to. That’s why he sent me as a representative, and I intend to tell him that we would be immoral and cowardly if we took any kind of unconstitutional act against United States citizens, citizens of Kingstone, and possibly prophets of God. I will never support such an action, for whatever that’s worth.”

  “Your support is worth a great deal,” the Elder Prophet added. “Whether you support the demons, support us, or don’t support anyone, your decision is going to make a world of difference.”

  “No,” Catherine replied morosely, “I’m just one woman, and I’m just about as ordinary as they come. I’m no prophet.” She laughed darkly. “I didn’t even win mayorship of Kingstone by more than a hundred votes. How do one governor and one mayor keep the federal government at bay?”

  Abbie smiled warmly. “Just speak kindly of us to your constituents,” she told Mayor Harper. “Tell them what you have seen here. Tell them we desire to help and that they need not be afraid.”

  Then, her smile changed from warm to a wrathful scowl. It was the first time in Alex’s experience with the woman that she had ever looked that way. “We will take care of the federal government.

  “In fact,” she continued, looking to Alex, “an effective and workable solution to this problem has just occurred to me, one we could even implement today if you wanted to.”

  Alex looked at her silently, waiting for elaboration.

  The warmth came back into her visage. “I never intended to let you deal with these people alone, Alex. You will have the aid of the Elder Prophet Council in whatever course you take, and we will provide our physical presence. Nevertheless, in Kingstone, we are alone. We need to make the people of the United States—and the world, for that matter—see that this is not a threat that belongs merely to the people of this small town. I’m sure that President Rose would find it much more difficult to enact martial law across the entire country. To even try to do so would destroy what little credibility the man has left in the eyes of the people.”

  “What’s your plan, Abbie?” Liz questioned. “The demons are here. The majority of the demonic activity is happening right on our doorstep. Even if we can convince the people of the world that demons exist, how do we know they won’t respond by quarantining us or eradicating us?”

  “Demonic activity has a precedent in the United States. If everything goes according to plan, I hope to be able to show people that San Francisco and Las Vegas have already been attacked by demons. Furthermore, I intend to show that President Rose and other members of the administration are knowingly working with demons. Chances are that they have a direct link to Metatron or Patheus...” a little color left her face as she added reluctantly, “...or Lucifer.”

  “How are we going to show them something that there’s no footage or surviving witnesses for?” Liz asked, intrigued but not convinced.

  “That’s not true,” Abbie replied coolly. “There are witnesses to both events. I fled Las Ve
gas due to a violent demonic attack.”

  “And Gregor was in San Francisco,” Alex finished the thought, nodding in agreement.

  Abbie nodded back to him.

  “But how will we convince anyone listening to you that this isn’t just an unbelievable fabrication?” Alex wondered.

  “I’ll show them from my own perspective and, if he is willing, from Gregor’s perspective, which will, undoubtedly, only serve to further prove to anyone present that we should be listened to—if for no other reason than our strange abilities.”

  “There’s still a missing piece,” Elizabeth prodded her.

  “There is,” Abbie agreed. “Actually, it is a quite tangible piece. I inherited an artifact long ago that should be of some help to us in this situation.”

  “Artifact?” Alex asked.

  Abbie nodded. “Yes. Random items forged by demons or incredibly powerful prophets. The sword of Lucifer, for instance. Many prophets also have abilities to manipulate technology. Elizabeth’s power is impressive, but she is certainly not the first to have an aptitude for things mechanical. Indeed, she has created one: her computer. In time, I’m sure she’ll create many more. Some of the Elder Prophets have come to possess these items throughout the years.

  “The one I speak of was created by a very powerful prophet a thousand years ago and was left to me upon his death. Like Elizabeth’s computer, this item has intelligence of its own. It’s a small, crystal orb.

  “It has named itself Corruption,” she told Alex. “And it will tell that to anyone communicating to it in whatever language he or she speaks. It has only been used three times successfully. Each time, I was one of the catalysts. You see, Alex, Corruption is very powerful and very obstinate. It requires three prophets who have incredible mental fortitude or at least ten prophets with mid-range mental powers to keep it from devouring the consciousness of anyone who might be trying to communicate with it. However, anyone whose mind is linked with Corruption can project his or her thoughts to any and every sentient being for miles, much the same as you do through touch. That is, of course, only possible if Corruption is being adequately distracted, and that requires very powerful minds.”

  Alex knew immediately where this was going. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  Abbie nodded her head slowly. “There are only two other people who I think could withstand the mental lashing Corruption will dish out. Both of whom are in this room, and, yes, you are one of them.”

  “Who’s the other?” Alex asked.

  Abbie suddenly looked as if she had eaten something rather foul as her attention directed to Nathan. “As hard as it may be to believe, Nathan’s mind is stronger than most. In some ways, it’s probably stronger than my own. Part of Nathan’s ‘gift’ is that his mind can bear the chaos it creates. But I guess none of it really matters unless he agrees to participate.”

  “Not for you, heifer,” Nathan retorted without missing a beat, “but for the boy. I like him. If I can get this crystal ball to eat your soul, I will.”

  Abbie chuckled. “If it overcomes me, everyone will die. I need you to be completely on board with this, if not for my sake, for your own and Alex’s. Your hatred of me, for whatever reason I will probably never know, will have to play itself out at a later date.”

  Nathan shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Alex?” she asked.

  Having had to do his fair share of mental battles with evil beings, Alex was reluctant to do so again, but he also knew there was no other option. Once more, only he could do what needed to be done, and it was not a responsibility he could shirk. It wasn’t even comparable to other responsibilities he’d had, like mowing the yard or washing the dishes. What Abbie was proposing was amazing and dangerous at the same time. Had she forgotten how young and inexperienced he was? Didn’t she have someone more qualified?

  Then, he heard himself utter two words: “Of course.”

  In spite of concerns for his own life and his looming questions, he knew that there was no other way and answered in the only way he could. In all the manners of death infesting his nightmares of late, he’d never considered being driven insane and having his soul consumed by a malicious, little orb, and the concept was not any more appealing than any of the others he had contemplated. However, it seemed to him that his faith had guided him safely this far, and he wasn’t about to stop listening now. He would simply have to rely on that faith to not lead him astray.

  “Excellent,” Abbie said. “Elizabeth, someone is communicating with a demon in the White House, I’m sure of it. Can you find out who that is and how?”

  After a second’s thought, Liz concurred, “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

  “Great. We’ll talk to Matt about accompanying us to Washington D.C., and we’ll see if Gregor can help as well.”

  “I would like to go,” Elizabeth added.

  “It could be very dangerous,” Abbie warned.

  “I’m sure it will be.”

  “All right. Then, we will go and show them what we’ve seen personally.”

  Chapter 5

  For thousands of years, the Elder Prophet Council had kept the deeds of prophets secret, while the demons did the same for their side. This was not a courtesy, and it wasn’t out of some self-righteous need to know more than the mortals. It was because we knew that the end result of that knowledge would be a decision. Which way would you go? If given the chance to choose between what is right and what is safe, would the path be clear? The demons offered security in the power they wielded and the ability to take away our free will and accountability. Accepting their domination would have made things much simpler in many ways. And we knew that, no matter what choice was made, war would follow. The decision to break the silence was made outside the direction of the Elder Prophets, but we soon came to understand the wisdom behind it. Humanity had, and continues to have, the right to know what they were—and are—up against, the right to understand the depth of the truth.

  --Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr

  It had taken a little more discussion, some preparation, a ride on a jet, and a ride in a rental minivan, but Alex found himself standing in Washington D.C. with Abbie, Nathan, Gregor, Matt, and Elizabeth. They had stopped to get food at a restaurant Abbie had been to many times when she’d visited the nation’s capital. Alex looked around outside the restaurant, and all he could see was apathy. Homeless people were everywhere, begging tourists and employees on their lunch breaks for spare change. Abbie explained, sadly, that when a nation is in a monetary and moral recession, there is little spare change to go around.

  “This, Alex,” she said seriously, “is what prophets fight. It’s more than just demons or corrupt people. You can find no better examples of human suffering than where there are only other humans around to hurt each other. Demons didn’t do this. No single, corrupted individual made people impoverished or desensitized to the suffering of others. The hopelessness you see around you was created by the very people we are trying to save. We can’t just save their lives; we have to save their souls.”

  “You know,” Nathan chimed in, “I’ve always said you’re too damned preachy for a whore. Give it a rest. Alex, bums are lazy. In my town, if you don’t contribute to society, you get put in the stocks. It’s not a pleasant experience. I’ve spent some time in the stocks myself. In fact, it’s downright boring. But it teaches you to value the real intricacy of life, which is certainly not begging for money from yuppies.” Turning to a crowd of presumably homeless people, he yelled, “Get a job!”

  “Nathan!” Abbie scolded. “I’m not interested in your opinions or making a scene.”

  One of the bums looked wheelchair-bound, and none of them looked to be in any position to walk into a formal business and get an application.

  “I was paralyzed, fighting for my country in Afghanistan,” the man in the wheelchair yelled back. “How the hell am I supposed to get a job? Do you have one for me? Is it wheelchair accessible, motherfuc
ker?”

  “See what you’ve done?” Abbie inquired.

  Nathan ignored her and walked toward the crowd of homeless people, prepared to answer the man’s questions.

  “Dear God,” she muttered.

  “Paralyzed?” Nathan yelled at him. “I say lazy. Yeah, I have a job for you. A couple, in fact. The first is to stop with the self-pity. The second is to get out of that chair and get yourself a job.”

  The guys near the veteran started to circle around him defensively. They didn’t seem too happy with Nathan’s suggestions. One of them even picked up a nearby board, whether out of anger or out of fear Alex didn’t know.

  “Uh, should we help him?” Matt asked.

  To the surprise of the group, Alex answered, “No. I don’t know what it is, but there’s more here than we see. Don’t get involved quite yet.”

  The man in the wheelchair grunted a laugh. “If shrapnel hadn’t severed my spinal cord, I promise I’d get out of this chair, but it would be to kick your ass.”

  Nathan stopped, put his hands on his hips, and a wicked smile came over his face. “Oh, is that all that’s stopping you? Do it, I dare you.”

  “You like making fun of the handicapped, asshole?”

  “Listen, smart guy,” Nathan continued with negotiation in his tone, “I am so confident that you and your buddies there couldn’t take me, that I’m willing to make a bet. If I win, you all have to get cleaned up and go get jobs. If you win, you can have your way with her,” he offered, pointing to Abbie.

  Alex blushed and felt a little guilty for the comment Nathan had made. “I’m sorry,” he said to her.

  She laughed. “Don’t be. He’s crazy, but I am starting to see what you’re talking about. It hasn’t come completely together yet, but he is working on something. In any event, no one’s going to have his way with me.”