Spirit Fighter (Son of Angels, Jonah Stone)

by Jerel Law

  “Sweet,” he said. “Here goes nothing.” And then Jonah began to run.

  He focused on the edge of the red beams, staying just outside their reach. His feet began to move faster and faster. Running along the perimeter, he had to lean in a little to the left, he was moving so quickly.

  In a blur, Jonah passed Eliza, standing there with her mouth open. One lap down.

  Six more to go.

  None of the soldiers had seen him during his first pass. He kept his head down, focusing on the ground in front of him. As he moved around again, he could tell that his feet were already beginning to wear a slight path out.

  Two laps completed.

  Jonah tried to move his legs even faster. On lap three, he felt the doubt creep in. Is this really going to work? Maybe it’s just an old story.

  He bore down, though, determined to push through the doubt. Four laps down, then five. He was a blur of energy, passing Eliza, who had apparently realized what he was up to and was quietly cheering him on.

  It was on lap six that he felt the flat handle of the spear across his stomach. He went spinning into the air, did two flips, and landed on his back.

  He uttered a low groan. The back of his head hurt, there was a gash across his left elbow, and his back throbbed. Slowly he opened his eyes. He saw towering trees above him, sparkling both with the light of the hidden realm and the sun breaking through. Then the shadow of a man covered it all up.

  Jonah felt dizzy as the man stooped down over his face. Suddenly, he was looking into a pair of glaring, sunken eyes.

  “Just who do we have here?” he said. “And what is it that you’re doing, running around our little fortress? Awfully quick, for a mere child.”

  Jonah tried to sit up, but a gnarled, gruesome-looking hand shoved him back down to the dirt.

  “Not so fast, boy. You haven’t answered my questions.”

  Jonah craned his neck, looking for any sign of Eliza. He prayed that she had stayed hidden behind the tree.

  “My name is Jonah,” he said, and then coughed, spitting blood onto the ground. He had bitten his lip too.

  “Nice to meet you, Jonah,” the man said, yanking him to his feet. Jonah staggered, putting both hands on his knees. He noticed that he still had his sandals on. “Did you come for your friend Henry?”

  Jonah picked his head up and looked into the decaying face.

  “Oh yes, boy,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me who you are. I already know. Henry is your guardian angel. And one of those nephilim is your mother.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” Jonah said, spitting again. He tugged against the grip on his arm, but it was solid. He glanced at his feet.

  I just needed one more lap.

  “You will come with me now,” the man said, dragging Jonah along the path. “Abaddon will surely reward me handsomely for this capture.”

  Suddenly, a flash of white light erupted behind them. Something slammed into Jonah’s back, pushing both him and his captor to the ground.

  Eliza stood over them, her shield blazing! As she forced herself between Jonah and the soldier, Jonah realized that it must have been the soldier that crashed into him after receiving the impact of Eliza’s erupting shield. Her shield brushed against Jonah’s elbow now, its coolness actually soothing his aching cut.

  “Go, Jonah!” she screamed. “One more lap! Go!”

  The soldier grabbed his spear and slapped it across the shield. Eliza stumbled backward into the trees. He towered over her, spear raised, but she still had the shield around her.

  Jonah hesitated. She could not hold off this monster for long.

  “Go!”

  Hearing her voice again, he knew what he had to do. Jonah turned away from her and began to run again.

  Elohim, I hope this works!

  He sped around the corner, even faster than before. He heard the commander scream orders to his henchmen. A soldier jumped in front of him, spear raised.

  Jonah closed his eyes and leaped. Somehow his speed carried him over the soldier’s head, and he landed on the other side, and on his feet. He kept running. It wasn’t much farther now, and all he could think about was what was happening to Eliza.

  When he turned the last corner, he saw a group of soldiers standing in a line, spears thrust toward him, waiting. The commander was behind them, holding Eliza by the arm.

  There was no time to stop. He was so close.

  Jonah barreled at them full speed. When he was almost to the point of the first spear, he leapt again.

  Everything slowed down in that moment. Jonah saw himself flying over the soldiers, watched their confused faces, and he heard Eliza scream. He landed flat on his stomach on the other side and glanced over toward the castle to see where he was.

  Lap seven.

  Jonah closed his eyes and waited for something to happen.

  But nothing did.

  He only felt the dull end of a spear planted forcefully on his back.

  Great.

  “Jonah!” Eliza was crying out to him. “Jonah!”

  He turned his head to see her, the sister he had just let down. The sister he had just allowed to be captured, along with him.

  “What?” he mumbled.

  “There’s one more thing,” she said slyly, as the commander pulled him off of the ground. “Remember the story? I think we need to shout.”

  She was right. Jonah vaguely remembered that in the story of the battle of Jericho, Joshua and his troops shouted, claiming their victory before it happened.

  Jonah and Eliza looked at each other. With one voice, they began to yell.

  “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhooooooooooooooooo!”

  The commander sneered and tried to speak over the shouting. “Stop that! Shut your little mouths before I—”

  But before he could finish, the ground started to rumble under their feet. Quietly at first, but quickly it grew stronger. Soon they couldn’t even stand. Jonah, Eliza, and the soldiers were all sprawled out on the ground.

  The castle shook violently. Jonah turned his head just in time to see the electrical webbing protecting the castle flicker, and then disappear entirely. The soldiers in the tower guarding Henry began falling over the edge and down onto the stone landing below. Two of them came tumbling out of the door as the ground continued to shake. Henry’s chains had fallen off, and he flew up above the castle, hovering in the sky for a few seconds.

  He spotted Jonah and Eliza and shot toward them like a bullet. Grabbing their outstretched hands, he pulled them over to a safer spot, fifty yards away from the tower.

  It was not a moment too soon.

  Cracks began to form in the dirt all around the castle and quickly turned into gaping holes. The ground was opening up everywhere, and the soldiers began to disappear, one by one. Everything continued to shake, and their commander dug his fingernails into the dirt around him. But it was not enough. He lost his grip and fell into the wide gap below him, deep down into the darkness.

  All the soldiers were gone. Abruptly, the ground stopped shaking. Jonah, Eliza, and Henry watched as the giant cracks began to seal themselves up. Within seconds, the earth had healed itself, and everything was just as it had been.

  Yet as violently as the castle had shaken, it was still standing.

  “The walls didn’t . . . you know . . . come tumblin’ down,” said Jonah.

  Henry slapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Remember, we are in the hidden realm, Jonah. The victory is not about bricks and stone coming down. It’s a spiritual battle. Elohim, in His wisdom, has conquered our enemies.”

  EIGHTEEN

  TUNNEL TO WARDS ISLAND

  Brilliant!” Eliza said, hugging her brother, then, turning to Henry, “I didn’t know if we’d ever see you again. When you went underwater with the leviathan and didn’t come back up . . .”

  “He wasn’t letting go, no matter how hard I fought, that was for sure,” said Henry. “There was a rumor among the angels after th
e great rebellion by Abaddon that he had figured out a way to control and command the leviathan. The only way it would release me is when the Fallen came for me. This must be some kind of holding tower that they use when they have a prisoner.”

  “And the soldiers?” asked Eliza.

  “Philistines, and their leader, King Achish,” Henry said. When her forehead wrinkled, he added, “Spirits, who used to be men, who warred against the people of Elohim in life. Now in death they are doing the same thing.”

  Eliza hugged herself tightly as she looked again at the ground the soldiers had been sucked into.

  “Thank you, Jonah. Or maybe we should call you Joshua.” Henry smiled. “Just like when he led the people of Israel in the battle of Jericho. Very creative.”

  Jonah shrugged. “The song just kind of came to me. Somehow, I thought it might work.”

  They walked through the unguarded front doors of the castle and climbed the narrow staircase until they emerged outside, on top of the tower.

  “So this is the place you saw in your vision, right?” asked Eliza.

  Jonah looked out over the Great Lawn of Central Park and the surrounding woods. The city skyline rose high in the distance.

  “This has to be it. There aren’t any other castles in Central Park, are there?”

  “Let’s take a look around,” Eliza suggested. “There must be clues around somewhere that can lead us to Mom.”

  They walked back down the steps, Jonah leading the charge. The main level was small. There was a long, wooden counter and a chair behind it. They inspected the room quietly for a few minutes and found nothing except another staircase, going down.

  Jonah motioned for Eliza and Henry to follow him. They wound down the stairs and found themselves in a dark basement. Eliza located a light switch and flipped it. Fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating desks, computers, and office furniture scattered all over the room. The floor was laid in stone, covered by a rug in the middle that had embroidered on it a picture of the castle, and the words THE HENRY LUCE NATURE OBSERVATORY.

  “It looks like this place isn’t a real castle,” Eliza said, picking up a brochure from one of the desks. “It’s actually a weather observation post.”

  “Whatever it is, I don’t see any signs of Mom or the other nephilim,” Jonah said as he took a disappointed look around the room.

  They wandered around for a few minutes, searching for any hints that would point them toward Eleanor Stone. Henry inspected the walls. Eliza shuffled through papers on the desks and tried to log on to the computers, which, of course, were password-protected.

  Jonah stood in the middle, trying to think. Where would they have taken her? Where could they possibly be?

  He sighed loudly, frustrated. Was this going to be another dead end, like the Brooklyn Bridge? He kicked irritably at the dirty rug he was standing on, and the edge peeled up. Underneath was more stone, but there was something else.

  The rounded edge of a darker surface.

  Jonah quickly pulled the rug off of the floor. He uncovered what appeared to be an ordinary manhole cover. But as he knelt down to take a closer look, he noticed subtle, strange markings all over the dark stone.

  “Come look at this, guys,” Jonah said as he ran his fingers over the raised images. They were pictures of snakes, the leviathan, and other strange creatures. Next to those were sneering carvings of the Fallen, some holding spears in the air, others spreading their wings fiercely or firing flaming arrows. There were pictures of horrible faces, mouths open like they were screaming.

  What drew his eye most, though, was the face in the middle. It was larger than the rest, darkened by a black hood that covered his head. A swath of black hair came down across his left eye, but his right eye was visible, and bloodred. His cheekbones and chin seemed to almost push through his scarred skin. The corner of his mouth not covered by his hair was turned up in a vicious, toothy grin.

  “Who is that?” Jonah asked Henry, pointing at the face.

  “Pretty obvious, isn’t it, Jonah?” he said gravely. “It is the Evil Lord, the Prince of Darkness. That image is of none other than Abaddon himself.”

  “Ew,” Eliza said, her nose crinkling up. “He looks disgusting.”

  It was the face of pure evil and it made Jonah shiver. But at the same time he found himself unable to look away. Thankfully, Henry tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Why don’t you allow me to pull this stone aside? I think we may have found where they’ve taken your mother.”

  Jonah blinked hard a few times, snapping out of his long gaze at the image of Abaddon.

  “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

  Henry leaned down and stuck his fingers in the holes around the edge of the stone and pulled. It didn’t budge. He tried harder, straining with all of his angel-strength until Jonah thought his wings might pop off. It still didn’t move.

  He knelt over it, studying the stone more closely. As he ran his fingers softly over it, a look of concern grew on his face.

  “We can’t open this,” he said. “It must be a Door of the Fallen. I’ve never seen one. But if this is what I think it is, it has been sealed with Abaddon’s evil power. Only a fallen one can open it.” He backed up and stood, arms folded, silently staring at the cover.

  “Only a fallen one?” said Eliza. “But we have to get in. Our mom has to be somewhere behind this door. What are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to find some fallen angel hanging around who wants to help us destroy Abaddon’s plan to bring the world down?” Jonah could tell she was getting to the end of her rope, waiting for an answer from Henry. He offered none.

  They stood around the stone, staring at it silently.

  Suddenly Jonah asked, curiously, “Are you sure that only a fallen one would be able to open this door?”

  Henry cocked his head. “Yes, Jonah. It is known throughout the hidden realm that there are some doors that only those belonging to Abaddon, only the Fallen, can open.”

  Jonah, with a mysterious look in his eye, spoke softly. “What about someone who is . . . a descendant . . . of a fallen one?”

  Henry began to nod slowly. “I see what you are saying. That just might work. But the one who tries needs to be very careful,” he warned. “These things are never as simple as they might appear.”

  Jonah looked at Eliza. Before she could say anything, Jonah spoke up.

  “Our grandfather is a fallen angel. I’ll try.”

  He leaned down over the cover, took a deep breath, stuck his fingers into the holes, and began to pull.

  “Aaaah!” he screamed. His hands suddenly felt like they were being held over an open flame. He snatched them away. He expected to see charred skin, or even bone, where his hands used to be. But his fingers looked totally fine.

  “Jonah!” Eliza cried. “What is it?”

  He continued looking at his fingers. “My hands. It felt like they were on fire.”

  Henry took his hands in his and looked at them. “They look, and feel, unharmed.” He looked into Jonah’s eyes, which had welled up with tears from the pain. “But there has to be another way to open this door!” muttered Henry. “There must be.”

  But there wasn’t. And they all knew it.

  “I’ll try again,” said Jonah.

  Before Eliza or Henry could protest, Jonah reached down again and stuck his fingers in the holes of the door. Keep pulling. No matter what happens, just keep pulling.

  He closed his eyes again and pulled. His hands burned again—but there was more this time. Awful screams ripped through his ears, horrible sounds of people in pain. Wailing and cries of anguish filled his head, knifing down into his brain. Jonah’s heart began to feel heavy, as rough and black as the stone cover he was pulling. His hands were still burning, and the screams caused despair to well up inside of him. His eyes popped open and he looked around, trying to see where the tortured voices were coming from. But there was no one except Eliza, watching him with concern, and Henry, bowing his head in fer
vent prayer.

  Stand firm, Jonah.

  It was just a whisper in his ear, though somehow louder than all of the wailing, which did not disappear, but seemed to have grown quieter.

  Stand firm.

  And then words came that pierced him down to his core: Do not fear, Jonah. You are Mine.

  With these words the screams vanished, and his hands felt as if they had been thrust into a bucket of ice water. He sighed with relief, once again able to focus on trying to open the door. With a new energy coursing through his body, he pulled on the door with all his might. It began to move, rising slowly.

  He heard Eliza’s voice, urging him on. “You’re doing it, Jonah! Keep pulling! The door is opening!”

  His feet were grinding against the stone floor as the cover continued to move. It was heavier than anything he’d ever lifted, but finally he managed to pull it completely off and set it to the side. Collapsing on his knees, he wrapped his arms around his ribs and breathed deeply.

  “Did you guys hear the . . . screams?” he asked, knowing what their answer would probably be.

  Eliza knelt beside him and reached a motherly hand up to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, pushing her hand away. He knew the look on his face said differently, though.

  Only a fallen one could open this door.

  Maybe he had heard Elohim’s voice, but opening the door had proven something to Jonah, something that had been lurking in the back of his mind but that he’d been afraid to admit to himself: there was evil in him. There had been since the day he was born.

  “There is no one beyond Elohim’s reach,” Henry said, reading Jonah’s expression. Then he grinned. “Not even grandkids of the Fallen. Now I would suggest we see what’s down here. What do you say?”

  Henry went first, jumping down into the hole. Jonah was fine with that, since there was no sign of a floor below and he didn’t have wings that could help him float down. He landed quickly, though, and Jonah could see his face only a few feet away.