Karix sat next to Zeriel, facing the other two men. "Sounds like a possession?"
"Direct possession?" Stephan asked. "I don't think so. Most demons can't take over a person's body directly like that. You're Ka'taylin. You know how demons work, Karix. It's a mental thing. Whatever this was, it was causing Tarael's body itself to do things strangely. It was almost like he was a . . . a puppet. Someone else was pulling the strings."
"Interesting."
"That's what I thought. I would have been able to sense a demon in the vicinity, but there was nothing. So either it's some kind of very powerful demon doing this at long range with an ability I've never seen before, or we're facing a darker power than even myself."
"That is concerning, but what are we going to do about it?" Karix asked. "Once we get out of here, are we supposed to hunt down some kind of demonic puppet master or a bard with demonic ties? Wait . . . I know a bard. Can bards do that?"
Zeriel and Karix met eyes in their shared understanding. Then they spoke in unison. "Jaycob and Dusty."
Stephan leaned forward, his interest obviously piqued. "Excuse me? Who are they?"
"You don't know?" Zeriel laughed in disbelief. "You're saying you're a Nephilim with connections all around Aldexa, The Veil, and Hell, yet you don't know who they are?"
"Which one's the demon? Do they have a contract active?"
"Yeah. Dusty is Jaycob's demon. His soul has been trapped inside a clay golem."
"Dusty?" The color drained from Stephan's face. "Dusty . . . oh Hell's flames. Surely it can't be him."
"Him who?" Karix asked.
"Dustrimir. He used to be a reaper of children's souls. He's a Nephilim like me, but not nearly as handsome or as forgiving. If he's the same demon, we have to make sure that he stays inside that golem no matter what."
* * *
Jaycob carefully smoothed the final curve of the new golem's jaw with his thin metal spatula he used for carving and shaping. He had to work quickly with the gritty clay already hardening in the hot tent where the fire was blazing. It figured that when he needed it to be colder and wet outside, it was the exact opposite. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on the back of his pink silk sleeve the pushed his red bangs back up under his large hat where the three angel feathers were secured in the ribbon around it. He picked up the golem then placed it into a small stone box which he then lowered into the fire by the handles.
He had done this many times before, but this was the one time he needed to be perfect. This was for his dearest friend, after all. With the added Ka'taylin ingredients that made up the strengthening material for the clay, it would not take long at all for it to harden and set the way Jaycob needed it to. He slowly counted down from one hundred in his mind before pulling the box out of the coals then placing it on the ground. With a pair of Trevor's blacksmith pliers, he gently pulled the hardened brown clay figure from the box. He set it on the table in the candlelight to examine it more closely.
Dusty walked over the tools to circle around what was going to be his new body. He pointed to the golem's mouth.
"What do you think, Dusty?" Jaycob asked, looking into his friend's glowing orange eyes for any sign of disapproval. "It looks just like your current body, but with a mouth now. If this works, we'll be able to talk for the first time in nearly forty years. You haven't even truly been able to write in that body of yours. I'm actually kind of scared."
Dusty patted Jaycob's dirty hand.
"I know, buddy. I know. It's just . . . I'm afraid that I've done things wrong and that you have been going along with them all because you felt you had no voice. I can never know what you're thinking, not fully. I've tried to be a good friend for you. I know you need me as much as I need you. Please go easy on me, okay? I don't want the first thing I hear from you to be yelling."
Jeremiah stormed into the tent, looking just as angry as he had been an hour and a half ago. He slapped a leather whip against the table leg near Jaycob, making him jump. "Are you finished, bard? Or do I need to gather everyone up for the show?"
Jaycob bit his tongue to hold back the string of creative insults he had for the seraph. Instead, he turned back to the table and picked up the new golem that had cooled down. "Almost finished. I just have to paint the Ka'taylin binding rune on the back then break the one on Dusty's current body."
"How do you do that?"
"I will have to crack it open and-" Jaycob gasped in horror as Jeremiah grabbed Dusty then threw the golem down on the floor of the tent. With one swift stomp, the seraph crushed Dusty under the heel of his boot. There was a cracking sound followed by a flash of shadows.
Jeremiah kicked the crumbling shards of clay into the fire. "There. That takes care of one of our demon problems. Now, you will use the golem you just created to trap that faerie, Shane, inside. I want him bound in there so he can't get away. We will then use him as bait to lure out Stephan. Get this mess cleaned up. I want you to join infantry squad seven that is being deployed to the Cavinil Desert in the morning. Maybe you'll be useful out there."
As Jeremiah left the tent, Jaycob dropped to his knees to scoop up the remaining clay shards and the dust that was left behind. His cracked hands cradled the fine brown powder, the only remnants of his dearest friend. He began to tremble as he held the clay up to his nose and breathed in the earthy scent for the last time. "Dusty! Dusty, can you hear me? Dusty!"
* * *
The four of them sat in a large circle so they could all keep their eyes on one another . . . just in case any of them tried to do anything. Zeriel doubted even Stephan would attack them. There was a feeling of contentment that hung in the place, causing them all to simply sit there or lie on their backs to stare up at the never-changing white sky. Time passed. They knew that much, but how much time had passed? None of them could tell. It ran together while still being disjointed and confusing. They couldn't say whether they had been inside that strange world for a few minutes or days.
Zeriel lay on his back with his glistening white wings spread out around him. He had his eyes closed, just listening to the others as they hypothesized about the purpose of their predicament. He had no need, no pressing desire to wonder about it. They were obviously here for a reason, so that reason would have to inevitably be brought to light. Worrying about it wasn't going to make it happen any faster. Just when he had started to drift off into his thoughts of Jaylen, something soft and velvety landed on his forehead. He picked it up and held it above his eyes.
A black rose petal.
He sat up and called to the others. "Guys, look. A black rose petal. I've seen these before when I was sent to the dream world by Nimiel."
Payniel scoffed. "Nimiel is dead."
"But with Purgatory closed temporarily, his soul had nowhere to go."
"So you're saying that Nimiel is playing a trick on us?" Karix asked, eyeing the sky cautiously.
"Or maybe he brought us here to tell us something. Let's think about what we could have in common." Karix then looked up as more black rose petals began materializing out of the nothingness to fall like snowflakes over the area. "Hmm. I guess we're on the right track. Anyone have any ideas?"
Stephan held out his hands where he collected a pile of the black rose petals. "We're all very powerful forces on both sides of this war, but we're not the commanders. If I didn't know any better, I would hazard a guess that Nimiel wants us to work together towards a common goal. Carvael, Queen Sela, Jaylen, and Jeremiah are too set in their ways. Their minds couldn't be swayed by something like this. Which is why Nimiel brought all of us together."
"Interesting concept. Zeriel?" Karix asked. "Any thoughts?"
He looked around at them all then came to one observation. "In some way or another, we are all immortal."
The rose petals stopped.
Payniel jumped up and held out his arms. "Nimiel, is that right? What are you trying to tell us? Give us a sign. Something."
Zeriel noticed something strange about the way the b
lack petals covered the floor. Flying up in the foggy air, he peered down at it from a different perspective. There on the floor, created by the black rose petals, was a Ka'taylin rune. It was one Zeriel had seen all too closely in the real world. A demon's mark, just like the one that was on Jaylen's back. "I know what Nimiel is telling us."
Chapter 9
The deck of the Osprey was slicked with seawater from the waves that had washed over the sides during the recent storm. The crew was busy bailing out the water from down below deck while others were mopping around the masts. Now that they were out of the tumultuous weather, the night sky was a black canvas speckled with millions of glittering stars that peered down around them in the stillness. There was no wind tonight, only a cold chill that hung over everything like a funeral veil.
James Vallen stood at the stern of the ship with his back pressed up against the captain's cabin door as he twirled a quill pen deftly in his well-worked and calloused fingers and watched the crewmen who were hard at work. He wore the same grey cotton pants and long open tunics as they did. He was never one for making himself stand out. His black curly hair rested on top of his ears where he wore simple emerald studs, his sister's favorite.
Once the cabin door opened, James slid the quill pen behind his right ear then slipped quietly inside the room. Candlelight flickered on the walls, illuminating the shelves filled with ledgers from past voyages, half-empty rum bottles from around Aldexa, and paintings of the captain's two daughters. James did what he did every night. He went to the large wooden desk then pulled out the current leather-bound ledger to record the day's events as the captain bathed in the tub nearby. It wasn't a king's job, but it was better than being a galley slave.
Captain Dave Mandobi stood in the soft glow from the candles as he unbuttoned his long black admiral's coat, emblazoned with the golden full moon symbol of Wolfekin on the back. His legs were shaking as he leaned his cane against the wall then groaned as he stiffly removed the rest of his clothes to sink down into the steamy water. "James, fetch me my rum like a good man."
"Right away, sir." James stopped what he was doing to find the closest bottle of dark spiced rum then took it to the captain and held it out with a warm smile. "Here you are."
"Good man, good man."
"Anything else, sir?"
Captain Dave Mandobi waved his gnarled hand dismissively as he closed his eyes.
"Very well, sir." James returned to the desk and picked up his pen again. "What's our heading, sir?"
"Damn it."
"What? What's wrong?" James asked.
"I . . . I think I'm growing old, James. I can't remember."
"Oh, well that's all right, sir. I will just ask the first mate in the morning."
"You are the first mate."
James frowned and blinked a couple of times. "Oh, yeah. That's right."
Dave Mandobi looked back at him with a concerned look on his aging face. "James, are you okay? You're not relapsing, are you?"
Honestly? James had no way of knowing when he would lose all coherent thoughts and fall back into the totally dependent and child-like state that terrified him beyond belief. Even with Divinus's death, the mental instability had only grown worse to the point where he was reduced to a delusional blabbering waste of space for two weeks of every month.
"You're not a waste of space."
James looked up from the ledger at the man who took him in and gave him pay even during those very trying times. "Sir?"
"I heard you talking to yourself. You said you were a babbling waste of space. I don't think that. I've never told you that. Just because your mind isn't like everyone else's doesn't mean you're worthless. Hell, you're more intelligent than every other crewman on this ship combined. You're special, James. What Divinus did to you years ago should be considered nothing less than, for lack of a better term, mind rape. He entered your mind, altered your thoughts, and used you to do unspeakable things. That's over now. All you need to focus on is recovery."
"Through my writing."
"There ya go, boy. It's okay. Everyone's different. What makes you better than most is that you applied yourself to something even knowing that you're not like everyone else. That takes guts, kid. You can't go through your life worried and scared everyday that you'll have another breakdown. But hey, if you do, you know I'm right here."
"And once we get to Ilyan, I'll see my sister again." James said with a smile. "Then I'll get to meet her husband. What was his name?"
Dave's eyes turned dark as he stared at the young man behind the desk. "Jaylen. Jaylen Corrifus."
"I bet she took his name, huh? Kato Corrifus. Oh, I'm so excited to meet my brother-in-law!"
"You don't remember anything, do you?"
James dipped his quill pen into the ink pot as he continued scribbling down the supply inventory. "What do you mean?"
"You must have had another breakdown in your sleep. Don't worry about it. Everything will be explained in time."
James had just finished writing down the levels of the gunpowder stores when a fearsome wind blew the shutters open. Papers and books went flying through the cabin as the candles were blown out. Left in darkness, James closed the shutters then raced to the captain's side where he lit a candle, but it was instantly extinguished by an unknown force. "Sir, what-"
"Shh. Don't you feel that, James? It's a demon."
"A demon? No. No, I can't. I can't!" James sunk down to the floor as he started screaming and held his head in his hands.
Dave Mandobi quickly dressed then found an oil lamp that he lit. This time the light stayed, but he dropped it once he spotted the average-sized black-haired demon with the slanted orange eyes standing nonchalantly in the corner by the ash-filled hearth. "You there, demon!"
The demon unbuttoned the top two buttons of his long-sleeved pink shirt then walked up to James, his thin leather boots scuffling along the floorboards. Once he was standing over him, the demon reached down to lay his clawed hand on the man's head. "I need your help."
James was trembling under the demon's touch. With fear coursing through his veins with every quickened pulse of his heart, he looked up into the unexpectedly-calm eyes. "W-what does a demon want with me?"
"I need both of you to help me. You're going to have to trust me."
Dave Mandobi found his blunderbuss and pointed it at the pale-skinned demon. "I have a policy on this ship. No demons. If you value your life, you will go back out that window and never come back. Go back down to Hell where you belong."
"I don't belong there. I belong at the side of my friend for eternity."
"Your friend?" James asked, his voice airy from fear.
"A bard by the name of Jaycob Colif Tamerlayn-Sequarius of Destfort. I am eternally in his debt."
"I don't care about your little lovey-dovey romance, okay?" Dave Mandobi pointed towards the window. "You get off of my ship and you let James go. He didn't do anything to you."
The demon looked down then removed his hand from the man's hair. "I apologize. I meant him no harm. I just felt the pain and the scars that cover his mind like tree roots. He's hurting. I can heal him."
"A demon healing what an evil corrupted seraph did to a human's mind? Don't tempt us with your tricks. I've been around werewolves and elves far too much in my life, so I know that no demon can ever be trusted."
The demon placed his hands on his hips. "But I'm not a werewolf or an elf. I'm a reaper. I'm a Nephilim. More than that, I am Dusty."
"A Nephilim? Sola's rays! James, get down. The Nephilim are the first fallen angels, the ones who raped Sola and destroyed Heaven. They were cast down to Hell where they became demons. This one's dangerous."
"I'm not. Not anymore. I've been living to do the best I could and atone for what I've done. I know I made horrific mistakes in my past by following Stephan's leadership when he ransacked Heaven. That was so long ago. I just want to heal all the pain I've caused in the world. I want Sola to love me again. I want my wings back."
"Your wings?" James asked. "Your angel wings?"
"Yes. I want to be a holy angel again. I'm stronger now, so I know I won't be swayed by evil temptations. I just . . . I want to make Jaycob proud of me."
Captain Mandobi was obviously not moved by the demon's words. "Whoever this Jaycob person is, I cannot see how he could ever be proud of something like you. You defiled our goddess and betrayed all the souls who depended on you to be an angel who would protect them. How can you even go on living with that kind of guilt?"
"Because I'm innocent."
"What kind of backwards lies are you-"
"Stop." James stood up, still looking into the demon's eyes. "He's telling the truth."
"You're serious?" Dave asked. "You trust this demon? A Nephilim?"
Dusty took James's hand in his. "Thank you. You're like Naomi the centaur, aren't you?"
James tilted his head to the side in confusion. "What? Who? A centaur?"
"Oh. I see. Well, Naomi is able to read people, like a psychic. You will like her. Let's get going."
Dave barged between them and held out his blunderbuss threateningly at Dusty. "No one is going anywhere with you, demon."
Dusty held his hands up as he stared down the barrel of the gun. "I'll heal him. I'll completely heal your friend here."
"And what does a greedy demon like you want in return?" Dave asked. "You never work for free."
"I want to find out why I'm not dead. Then I want James to stop summoning demons with that spell he found. All he's doing is sending those lesser demons to possess people. It's not helping."
"How dare you blame him for doing something so heinous?"
James hung his head in a mixture of shame and defeat. "I just wanted to help end the war. I thought I was helping."
Angel of Darkness Books 6-10 Page 60
