Beyond the Shadows (To Absolve the Fallen Book 0)

by Aaron Babbitt

  Jeremiah took a brief glance and dropped his watch wrist to his side. “Well done.”

  Only then did Dylan look at his arm. The cut was still there, but there was no blood coming out. Despite the awe-inspiring chemical process that blood clotting really is, he had willed it to coagulate with a simple command.

  Taking Dylan’s arm in his hand, Jeremiah ran his other hand over the cut, sealing it up nicely. Even after scrutiny, the young prophet couldn’t see a scar or notice that the skin had been damaged at all.

  “Among my many talents, I’m a pretty good healer, myself,” Jeremiah explained. “It would definitely raise too many questions if you were walking around in public, and some busybody mistook the cuts on your arm as a cry for help.”

  “Cuts?”

  As soon as the question escaped his lips, he saw the flash of steel and felt its bite more keenly this time.

  “Again,” the demon demanded, “but do it faster.”

  ***

  “What could you possibly mean by ‘go public?’” Will asked the Chancellor with as much restraint as he could muster.

  “It’s only a matter of time before the prophets or demons beat us to it,” Byron replied. “This age of technology isn’t going to slow down. Our time in the background may soon be over whether we like it or not. I say we plan for it. We’re stronger than we’ve ever been, and we can come out now, as the secular defenders of humanity. Then, the Society could protect humanity from this holy war, and, in return, humanity will protect us against an inevitable backlash from the demons. I’m sure, at that point, the prophets would have chimed in, and we could declare them allies—for the sake of all, but we would have been there first. We have a chance to earn the people’s trust.”

  “Or be burned at the stake,” Will countered. “With all due respect, Chancellor, have you lost your mind?”

  Raul stood. “I have rarely known any statement introduced by, ‘with all due respect,’ to be respectful. You are free to have a difference of opinion, as I surely do, but I will vouch for the Chancellor’s sanity and invite you to rephrase your question. Mind you, I don’t speak at this time as a Regent of the Society of Minds, as I obviously have no authority in that capacity here. But let us be friendly so that we may accomplish mutual goals.” Then, he took his seat once more.

  William seemed to calm a little. “Agreed. Chancellor, I apologize for the poor wording of my question. That said, isn’t it possible that we could be inviting a fate worse than ‘demons’ by revealing ourselves to the public?”

  “The Salem Witch Trials were a long time ago, Minister Johnson. In fact, if my math is correct, even Regent Habsburg would have been pretty young at the time.”

  “Still a boy,” Raul agreed. “But I’m afraid I still don’t understand, Chancellor. Is not the Society’s place in the shadows?”

  Byron shook his head. “Not for long…unless you want to go further into hiding. I would estimate that in less than twenty years, we’ll be discovered if we do nothing more than we’re doing now to cloak our whereabouts. I think we could probably buy another twenty or thirty years if we chose another location, one even further from civilization, locked it down, and devoted all of our efforts to hiding and defending it. But to what end? We might be able to hold onto our xenophobia for another half century, but then the rest of the world will be thrust upon us, maybe violently. Our gifts and our best intentions will eventually be overcome by technology and avarice—if they are not first overcome by evil and mysticism.”

  “I, for one, agree,” a minister seconded when the Chancellor had finished.

  He was tall, and, when he stood to address the Assembly, the lights of the candles danced happily on his ebony skin. He and the woman sitting next to him were both relatively new to the ranks. It was not often that a minister had to be replaced, but, five years ago, cancer had claimed one. Of course, the Korean Minister next to the speaker had been Raul’s replacement. The Regent had read the files of the newer appointees, but, he felt ashamed to admit, he had never taken the time to familiarize himself with them.

  “Minister Candugo,” Byron recognized with a nod.

  “Thank you, Chancellor. Ministers and honored Regent, the world suffers while we sit in our frigid, mountain fortress. AIDS, famine, war, genocide…these are all things we can stop; I am sure of it. We have seen these creatures of nightmare, and we know they are our enemies. We need no official declaration of war from them. It doesn’t matter if we call them demons or not; they’re cruel, and they’ve attacked one of us. If it was coincidental, then I’m glad Regent Habsburg was around to protect Lonny. If it wasn’t coincidental, then we can expect to see more such attacks. And how long before they come here, where we have many nearly defenseless children? Regent Habsburg cannot protect them all. If we ally with humanity’s governments and scientific community, they will help us. And, like the Chancellor said, the prophets would have little choice but to come out in support of us, but they won’t be able to claim that it’s a religious mission.”

  “I believe humanity’s governments and the prophets will use us, Michael,” Estella argued. “Even if we’re stronger than we’ve ever been, we aren’t strong enough to control an institution like the United States’ government or the Elder Prophet Council. And how can we know that the latter won’t leave us as vulnerable fodder for the demons?”

  “They wouldn’t,” Raul assured her. “But their reaction to anything we do must not be brought into the equation in this—I hope—completely hypothetical discussion. Oracles, what say you?”

  Raul and the rest of the Assembly turned to face two ministers sitting about as far away from the head of the table as possible. As usual, they’d been silent the entire meeting. Raul had found them almost a century ago in Kabul—twins, a boy and a girl. Mirza and Nadia, respectively, were now older than mortal humans usually lived, but, like the other members of the Society and the prophets, the Oracle Twins physically aged slowly. In fact, unlike their peers in the Society, the Oracles could have been mistaken for older adolescents.

  He was already an established and trusted member of the General Assembly when Raul had met the twins, starving and sick in a bustling market place. Consequently, he knew it wouldn’t be a typical meet and greet with a prospective member. On a request from the Regents, via the Assembly, he’d been following a rumor of such a pair, and was amazed, as was everyone else on the Assembly, when the rumor turned out to be an understatement. Though it was still certain that the extent of the Oracles’ power hadn’t been discovered yet, the strength and accuracy of their shared foresight and telepathic abilities were unprecedented as far as Raul knew. However, what they chose to share was often cryptic and choppy.

  “The future in this matter is cloudy,” Mirza answered softly.

  Raul cocked his head in frustration. “You can do better than that.”

  “You are mistaken, Regent Habsburg,” Nadia corrected, always a little more assertive than her brother. “There are too many uncertainties to offer an accurate prediction. We will have more information later.”

  “You’ve foreseen that you will have more information later?” Raul pressed reluctantly.

  “Correct,” Mirza affirmed.

  “That’s intriguing,” Byron noted. “Do you know what’s keeping you from seeing now and why it won’t be an issue later?”

  “No,” Mirza admitted.

  Nadia added, “It’s strong though.”

  “So, is it your belief that there is a force actively blocking you?” Byron continued.

  They were both silent, and everyone else in the room was painfully aware that the Oracles were discussing the issue telepathically. Raul knew that people throughout the Society, including Regents, were wary of the twins. He’d fostered them for five years after he’d found them—another job he’d felt unqualified for. He realized they were quirky, and they kept their own counsel, but they certainly weren’t plotting and planning. In fact, they typically acted apathetic and almost uni
nterested in others, an opinion he’d made clear to some Ministers, decades ago, when they implied that the twins might be secretly trying to undermine the Society.

  Every year, they would teach one advanced class of two to five telepaths, if teaching is what you’d call it. Raul had observed sessions with them where no one said a word for hours at a time. He didn’t understand it, but they had taught the very best telepaths and diviners who had ever come out of the Society of Minds, and none of their graduates would ever speak to anyone about what they’d learned.

  And, though they were very rarely apart, there was no doubt that, even then, they were in constant communication. However, they were stingy with what they shared with others, even Raul, whom they had let into (or forced into) their mental conversations from time to time.

  “Yes,” Nadia finally answered.

  The other Ministers started murmuring.

  “It is our opinion that there is a force actively blocking us,” Mirza repeated.

  “So we are being targeted?” Raul asked.

  “It would appear so,” Nadia confirmed.

  “Do you support the Chancellor’s call to go public?” Estella inquired.

  “We cannot make any reliable recommendations to this Assembly until we divine more information,” Nadia declared.

  “This may be something we would like to act on quickly,” Will urged.

  The Oracles stood.

  “You’re copping out on us, aren’t you?” Raul asked.

  “We will let you know when we have more,” Nadia reiterated as they began walking to the exit.

  Raul also stood. “Oracles, my student is in jeopardy. I need to know what I can do to protect him as soon as possible.”

  “Understood, Regent,” Mirza answered. “If we discover anything pertaining to yourself or Lonny Talbott, we will notify you at once.”

  Raul nodded, conceding. “Of course.”

  Let this one go, Regent, Nadia advised telepathically.

  We will not allow anything to happen to Lonny, he heard in Mirza’s voice.

  They were never as open aloud as they were when they’d speak to him in his mind. At first, it really disturbed him. When he was younger, a powerful telepath had taught him how to protect his mind from attacks, and even she’d said he was a natural. Nevertheless, from a young age, the Oracles broke down his mental barriers with ease, never maliciously, more like they were merely walking through cobwebs they hadn’t seen.

  You do know more than you’re letting on, don’t you? Raul reasoned in his mind.

  We suspect much more than we know, Nadia corrected. But we do know that Lonny will live for many years to come.

  Though the attack on Lonny was intentional, Mirza explained, we think it’s part of a bigger picture and not something that we fully understand yet. This is why we didn’t immediately side with the Chancellor, as was our initial inclination. But our hesitation will not hold out for long. He has a point, and he’s very persuasive. It seems probable that we will approve his plan to go public, but not yet.

  Thank you for sharing, Raul thought. I’ve missed our conversations.

  We are telepaths, Regent, Nadia’s voice reminded him. You need not lie to us.

  Raul chuckled aloud and realized the other Ministers and Byron were staring at him, having deduced that there was a part of the meeting they hadn’t been invited to.

  “I apologize,” he rasped as Nadia and Mirza left. “We had catching up to do. I cannot adequately express how much I appreciate the attention of the General Assembly. I know your time is very important, and I think we’ve made critical discoveries that you all will have to analyze. I fear that I may have taken advantage of my privilege as Regent during this meeting, and I hope I didn’t step on anyone’s toes.”

  “Never,” Byron insisted. “Your wisdom is always welcomed and desired, Regent.”

  “Here, here!” Will seconded.

  “I will go see to my charge,” Raul announced with a slight deferential bow. “Please let me know when the General Assembly has reached a consensus, and advise me of how I may be of assistance.”

  “Thanks for coming, Raul,” Byron said.

  “Is there any further--” is the last thing Raul heard before he stepped into the shadows and vanished, whisking himself back to the United States.

  ***

  Jeremiah stared at the wall clock impatiently. He’d gone for hours with the boy: cut, clot, heal, repeat. After cursing turned into tears, the demon decided he might give Dylan a short reprieve. The two hour rest was up.

  He sighed and got up from the couch to walk towards the boy’s room. When he got to the door, he shook his head and knocked.

  There was a silence; then he heard Dylan stammer, “Uh, come in?”

  Jeremiah took a step back from the door and burst into flame. A burning hand shot out of the pillar of fire; the knob on the door turned on its own , and the door swung open telekinetically. Dylan stood there, wide-eyed, and behind him was a beautiful woman with long black hair, atop which were small, red horns that matched her similarly-hued, scaled skin. Behind her was an opened window.

  Black, leather wings spread out behind her. “Well met, Jeremiah.”

  “Hardly,” his voice boomed from the pillar.

  “I know that you can burn me where I stand, and the boy wouldn’t even break a sweat,” she began. “My name is Muriel, and I just want to talk.”

  “Okay,” he bantered, “I’d say my recently fostered son is a good conversation starter. Why are you holding him hostage?”

  “He isn’t a hostage.”

  “Don’t dawdle, succubus,” Jeremiah commanded. “I was already impatient before I opened the door.”

  “Then, I shall be brief. General, Adversary requests your presence in San Francisco for the creation and maintenance of a demonic horde.”

  “He sent a succubus to parlay with me?” Jeremiah growled. “Or perhaps he’s foolish enough to think you will entice me sexually?”

  “I am no succubus, Jeremiah. That isn’t why I take the form of a woman, and that’s probably the last time I’ll bear the reference before I zap the kid from the inside.”

  The fire around Jeremiah died. “Understood,” he said. “My mistake. I have an unfortunate history with a succubus.”

  Muriel shifted into her human form as well. “I’ve heard, and I accept your apology. Please accept mine for intruding.”

  “To business?” Jeremiah prompted.

  “Indeed. Would you kindly ring down to your doormen to let my associates up? One looks like an unwashed hippy, and the other is an obnoxious, little girl.”

  He shook his head. “Really?”

  “Have to laugh to keep from crying. But I promise this plan has potential. Something big is in the works, and Adversary is controlling it.”

  “Which one of you is keeping me from sensing your demonic nature?” he queried.

  Muriel smiled. “I hope you’ll not be offended if I refrain from answering that right now, General, for my own protection.”

  “Sure,” Jeremiah agreed. “Why do you keep calling me ‘General?’ I haven’t held that title in decades.”

  “I’ve researched your impressive career. In my humble opinion, you’ve earned the title for life, even if—as legend has it—you died and, it appears, came back.”

  Jeremiah nodded and rested his chin in his hand contemplatively. “Okay. May I be honest with you? For the sake of full disclosure?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great. I hate all other demons. I always have. That cocky attitude, the condescension…Who do you think you are? And, more importantly, whom do you think you’re speaking to? I must confess, you’ve done little to convince me not to burn you to ashes right now, then invite your friends up and do the same thing to them. If you worked for me, you would be dead; so would they, and so would Adversary.”

  “And, again, I do humbly beg your pardon, General, but I don’t work for you. I work for Adversary, and I hope to
help persuade you to do the same.”

  “Hmm…” Jeremiah pondered, “I still don’t think you’ve addressed why I shouldn’t burn you and your ‘associates.’”

  She sighed and motioned to Dylan. “Because I can set the molecules in his body on a course for self-destruction and microwave him in about the same amount of time it would take you to burn me completely.”

  “There,” he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his hip pocket, along with a lighter. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Being straightforward?” He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, replacing the pack and lighter afterward. “Please, continue. It sounds like I’ll be heading to San Francisco. Will I need to make travel or lodging arrangements?”

  Chapter 4

  “So, this is fun, right?” Jeremiah asked from the driver’s seat of his own car. He looked into the rearview mirror at Muriel and Dylan in the back seat, and beamed happily at them. Then, he looked beyond them to the car that had been tailing them from Las Vegas.

  “General, I’m like you,” she said, eyeing him cautiously. “I’m sure you’re seething on the inside. You’ve probably fantasized thousands of ways to torture and kill me since we met. I hope you’ll give us a chance.”

  “Oh, you’re fine,” he assured her, though she doubted his sincerity. “This is how business is conducted, is it not? I remember. I’ve conducted a lot of business. I may be a little rusty at it, but I’m confident I’ll get back into the swing of things when I start negotiating with this Adversary. But, you’re in complete control here. You have leverage, and I’m aware of that. No need to do anything hasty.”

  “I won’t always have leverage,” she muttered, knowing that he could still hear her.

  He nodded and looked back to the road. She was right, after all. She would have to give up the boy, give Dylan to someone else—Adversary, perhaps—or kill him. In any event, she would eventually be completely vulnerable, and they both knew it. He would just have to keep an eye on the kid until this situation had been resolved. Should they try to kill him or Dylan, Jeremiah was sure that the reverse of Muriel’s argument was also true: He could burn one or more of them to ash by the time any of them could inflict much damage.