He sighed, letting his head fall softly against hers. “So that we can be certain. So that, before everything changes, we can feel our connection to the earth, to the sky, to our history… I feel it. I can sense the Fall here, even stronger than back home.”
“It’s the quartzite.”
“I know,” he murmured gravely. Michael was far away now, his eyes fixed on the purple stone.
Kayla swam towards everything he discarded into the rocks at his feet: his doubt, his mistrust, and all the little evasions that held his world together. She reached for him, for the arms that held Kiera, for the swirls and intersecting lines that kept his energy from bursting through the surface of his skin. Those black marks came closer, and she plunged into their gaping darkness.
Another vision arrived. It was still dark above her, but the boundary of the sky was torn. Contorted, flailing points of light plummeted down, crashing against the dense clusters of crystal, spewing trails of sparkling ash up into the thick air. She barely had time to wonder if this is what Michael saw when he first let the stone touch him. For her, it was more than just a vision; she was one of the fallen stars. Now there was only the sensation of warmth, spilling out into the dust. Her body went slack with pain. Were her muscles so torn and disconnected that they could no longer react by tightening? Every light was going out. She was alone, numb and empty. There was nothing, except the vague sensation of sliding down into oblivion. It would be over soon, if she could just accept the Divine’s will one last time. She exhaled.
Something scraped against her shoulders, and she was suddenly aware of her ability to move. The agony that shot through her back was unfamiliar, but as she rolled and twisted her body, she found new joy in motion. A cry of pain escaped her lips, startling her. It was no longer a song of joy or praise. She tried the sound again. It was ugly, but it was hers. The purple stones clung to the new form that cloaked her now-dimmed angelic light. They filled some gaping void; they anchored her here. She rose, dragging her bare feet along the pebbles.
The sun was rising. There were endless possibilities in this new dawn, as if it was the very First Day. Her eyes were different.
‘…and great shall be the peace of your children…’
Kayla stopped short. This wasn’t a new place, only a new time, a different life. A part of her she had lost. She had heard this verse before, somewhere…but in her memory, that sound was lighter, clearer, than it was now. “Mommy?” Her own voice was that of a child’s, without the glory of a Star, without the suffering of the Fallen.
“See all of this? It was my mistake. But I was thinking of you… Shouldn’t that have made it right?” Kiera’s eyes were large and deep set, staring beyond the view from the purple mountain. Her thin fingers absently rubbed her palm.
“Mommy, don’t be sad.” Kayla threw herself into her mother’s lap. She wasn’t afraid. Daddy would come get them. He taught her the rules of games like this. She was starting to think that maybe everything was a game, or that nothing was.
Kiera didn’t seem to hear her. Sometimes she was very far away. But she stroked Kayla’s hair as those familiar verses spilled out, her voice serene and even, and they were both again soothed by the constancy of her anguish. “ ‘How you have fallen from Heaven, O morning Star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, “I will ascend to Heaven; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of the sacred mountain. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.” But you are brought down to the grave, to the depths of the pit. Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: “Is this the man who shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, the man who made the world a desert, who overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?” ’ ”
The vision faded. Kayla found herself standing in front of a dull, faded wall, punched with tiny windows and topped with a slanted, tiled roof. She lifted her chin to the sky. The peaks of intricately carved towers were barely visible, climbing up from somewhere on the other side of the wall. She walked along the perimeter of the stone barrier, allowing her shoulder to brush its irregular surface, and hoping her feet wouldn’t stray from its shadow. Kayla turned the corner, and found that this side of the wall gave way to an open, towering arch. She ventured in without hesitation. This place was hers. She’d been here before, in so many different forms. Kayla suffered a tiny pang of regret that she didn’t find her way here sooner, but she finally understood that there was no shortcut to the inevitable.
The stones under her feet became smooth and rounded as she entered the courtyard. The simple exterior began to slowly acquire ornament, and as she moved forward, she was able to make out a short stairway leading up to another entrance, surrounded by carved relief columns and large sculptures of draped figures. An iron cross balanced atop the high wall, above a set of two bells in an open niche. Kayla’s eyes were focused skyward for a few long moments before she stumbled on the cobblestones. When she caught her balance, she found herself closer to the stairs than expected, and she peered into the shadows that gathered around the closed double doors. A figure sat at the top of the stairs, leaning comfortably in the doorway. She knew he’d be here, and her feet never slowed, her path never faltered. When her toes touched the bottom steps, he rose, and her shoulders tightened with some distant memory, but the emotion that loosened her legs and constricted her throat was unfamiliar and insignificant.
When she landed on the highest step, Sebastian moved suddenly close to her, his dark eyes pressing her hard. Even with the intensity that shone in his gaze, she wasn’t surprised that his words were simple and gentle. “What did you find when you wandered in the world?”
Kayla’s eyelids closed slowly with effort, an exercise in fighting the sudden impulse to be very still. “Emptiness.”
His breath stirred her hair. “ ‘The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep…’ ”
“ ‘…and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters—’ ”
“Ah, but something is missing.”
She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, struggling to recall a nearly forgotten image. “No. No, I’ve felt it before, somehow…” Somewhere in her memory, her neck was craning towards a warm light, and there was something waiting above with an outstretched hand. Her heart leapt then, and how many times since did she feel that sacred wonder set her on fire? Steam hissed across the sigils on her back.
“You feel it here.” Sebastian gently grasped her wrist, tugging it closer to the marble railing, and then released her as her palm touched the cool stone, guiding her fingers lightly around its curving surface.
The Angelic script that trailed down from her shoulders burned softly. Her awareness spread from her palms, into the marble, and then the crystal below…across the hills and caves, catching glimpses of a former world through blazing eyes. “We Fell here too? I thought—”
“So much time wasted. You traveled across an entire, sprawling continent and still you know little more than you did in the exile of your youth. Time passed differently in Heaven, and we were cast out across the Earth under a series of Eclipses. Something unusual occurred here, however. This mound of quartzite reacted with Angelic bodies in an unexpected way. The natural quality of this stone is to regulate change, and so more Angels survived the Fall while retaining their attributes.” Sebastian paused, smearing away a bit of the purple dust that clung to her fingers. “And there’s more. But you’ve experienced some of that yourself.”
Kayla shuddered, her hands clenching the rail. “Jeremy…” she gasped as she spoke the word that she promised she would keep silent, the name she somehow forgot during her journey from the cave. The oppressive weight of her body returned; her legs felt weak and her back ached. She couldn’t remember what she did to him. Her cheeks burned with the memory of the simple ecstasy that
moved her to this place. Now that it was gone, she felt more human than ever, and it seemed absurd to think she could touch divinity. The script on her back was just a series of cold, raised scars. She felt Sebastian’s body behind her as a towering pillar of heat, and she struggled to keep her breathing even.
Kayla maintained her composure for a few moments, but she soon found herself coughing, her chest swelling with the effort to draw in air. She remembered that the sun should be rising, but her eyes were growing bleary in this expanding darkness. Her hands still gripped the marble balustrade as her legs began to give out, buckling underneath the weight of her fragile and breathless form. Before she slipped away, she felt Sebastian’s disapproving voice envelop her in endless ripples: “You’ve felt the elation of your Angelic mind, but still, even the vaguest thought of him can drag you back down to what you still consider your ‘self.’ ”
An unfamiliar, coarse purr echoed from somewhere close by. “…Interesting.”
43
Kayla watched the tops of the cypress trees bend as they yielded to the autumn winds. She shivered. The earth below her was warm and inviting, but the cold air stiffened her skin. How long had she been here in the garden, staring off over the tiled roofs, past the distant purple hills, to the troubled sky? Her body was heavy, but her head swam through the thin atmosphere, and although so much didn’t make sense, she had the suspicion that for once, she understood everything that really mattered. She knew she was in the innermost courtyard of the monastery, but she couldn’t remember how she came to be in this place. Something happened between her last lesson with Sebastian out in that seabed desert and her most recent memory of his disappointed eyes. Kayla gazed at the sun’s rays breaking through the clouds as the shining star let itself sink closer to the horizon, and there was something familiar about her attention being focused on those tiny points of light. Her chest ached with longing. She knew she was lost.
Very soon, that same sun would go dark, high up in the sky, and everything would change. She was afraid, but not for herself. There were others, somewhere… There were people she loved. The pain in her breast sharpened and she let her body fall to the earth. Were they already dead? She couldn’t remember their names, their faces… Kayla pressed her cheek into the dirt and crystals. They had to be long gone. She was alone, except for Sebastian.
She thought about the tattoos that crossed over his torso and down his arms. The symbols blurred in her recollection as a mass of dark, chaotic strokes. She closed her eyes and went deeper into her memory. There was a sharp line that dipped and changed direction, then hooked around a tiny curve. Beside that mark was an inverted, diagonal cross that trailed a two-pronged spike. The shapes weren’t random, they weren’t decorative — she recognized them now. The first symbol represented a “B,” then an “A.” Baltoha. There was more. Twisting, bending lines, swelling and constricting. I-Z-I… Izizop. Baltoha. “From the highest vessels.” “For my own righteousness.”
Kayla held her breath. When did she learn to read this language? It was just another thing that she didn’t remember understanding. All the beginnings were missing. She fought to recall her first meeting with Sebastian. Light was filtering through large windows, and there he was — dark eyes, dark hair… Something moved, and they were left alone. Who led her there, that very first time? His image was distant; she couldn’t see his face. There was only a pair of shoulders, thrown into a posture of reckless apathy, set above a thin back, its strong angles lashing together sets of curves that seemed ready to bend, explode, or change direction at any moment. Those features were so familiar. Kayla could feel her heart beating fast against the earth. Was this someone who she loved or feared? She remembered his fingers bruising her wrists, her arms; she remembered him inflicting darkness on her, and poison; she remembered his hair brushing her face, his warm breath… “Jeremy.”
He was nearby. She knew he was hurt when she found herself wincing with every attempt to draw in air. Kayla tried to ignore his thoughts, but he was insistent, and he only had one desire: to ascend just high enough to reach her. She sprang up and began running across the courtyard, trailing glimmering dirt, but it wasn’t until she passed through the marble walkway into the adjoining garden that she considered the direction of her flight. She stopped suddenly in front of a fountain, carved with images of two winged beings. What sort of human was he, that he could inspire this breathless sort of fear, and still drive her to rush, not to end it, but to let it endlessly continue? Kayla planted her palms against the rim of the sleeping fountain and stared into her own reflection in the water. She had a past, and he wouldn’t let her forget. There were scrapes along the sides of her face and blood-blisters scattered over her shoulders and chest. She pulled the bandage away from her throat to reveal wounds that were beginning to scab over. What happened on her way here? Did he do this? Kayla gazed into her own eyes, their radiance dulled by the dark skin below them. She dipped her fingers into the cold water before attempting to smooth her hair and smear away the grime that clung to her flesh. Here, in this place, she was suddenly aware of her body and regretted her disheveled appearance. She examined her reflection again as the water settled, and she adjusted her rumpled, sleeveless blouse. As she pulled the straps of her top straight, she noticed a little white line circling above her collarbone and disappearing down beneath her neckline. Her hand moved in a reflexive spasm to clutch her locket, but it was gone. A cold shiver of recognition struck her before she began frantically searching her pockets. Her mother’s cards and Bible were missing, and her father’s prayer beads were no longer wrapped around her wrist. She closed her eyes. How long had she been without them? When did she see them last? She could only remember the weathered hands that had first dropped the keepsakes into her lap, trembling almost imperceptibly beneath the pressure of their own strength. It was only through great suffering that she obtained these relics. She forced the gaze of her memory upward so that she could again meet those eyes, forever unmoved by the chaos that dazed the rest of the world.
“No!” she cried out, slamming her hands down along the edge of the fountain. “Asher…” How could she forget why she was here? How could she forget him?
Jeremy’s voice exploded in her mind, sending urgent blasts of force against her skull. He was screaming their names. He wanted her to remember.
“Kittie…Kittie! Bruno…Vic…” She clapped her hands over her mouth. A sharp pain in her stomach nearly pulled her back down towards the ground, but she fought to stay standing. These were the people she lost; they were her family.
He did worse to your family. Jeremy’s voice stung her brain.
“Stop…” He kept flinging images at her, smearing his cruelty over the spaces of her mind that were once soothed by sweet words. Where was her mother’s voice?
Is that what shut me out for so long? Since Azevin, you thought you were hearing her? Jesus, Kayla, that was Him.
“What? No…” She gripped the marble, concentrating on the quiet moments between his words. When he didn’t force his thoughts on her, there was no past and there was nothing to remember. Was there anything that she could trust as truly hers?
The gentle pressure of a warm palm between her shoulder blades drew her back towards external reality. This time, sound reached her ears before her brain. “Are you still so lost? What do you suppose it will take for you to finally find your bearings?”
Kayla turned, determined to find her own answers in Sebastian’s face. His eyes were still and his features were relaxed, disappointment only slightly pulling his brows, and she saw no evidence of malice tightening his mouth. She could still feel Jeremy’s distant influence as he thrashed against his bonds, some desperate warning in every roar he expelled. Should she be afraid? Kayla peered deeper into Sebastian’s clear, black eyes. His energy was forceful and probing, but she couldn’t see any threat hidden in that veiled intensity, only expectations. She lowered her gaze, wrestling with her failings as an Angelic being and the sudden d
esire to watch that face soften with approval. Her eyes searched for a place to secure her focus, and she noticed the symbols marking his forearm — sharp, angled characters alternating with delicate, curving ones.
“Iadanamad…” she whispered, astonished again by her ability to read the script.
“ ‘Undefiled knowledge…’ ” Sebastian’s fingers brushed against his tattoo before they lifted her chin, not allowing her to avoid his gaze. “Is that what you’ve been searching for all this time? The purpose of your training was to answer those questions you have about yourself, your past, your world. Now we have such little time left.”
She could barely breathe. “But…it’s not too late.”
“Not even two days of training to prepare you for a new Earth…” He closed his eyes, but he didn’t release her. “You don’t know what you’re saying. How could you?” Sebastian moved closer to her and a tiny tremor moved his features. “The world has finally touched you. Even now, I can smell the decay, the hopelessness, the savagery. On your skin, I can smell them…and him.”
Kayla tensed her jaw and pulled away from his touch. “Then shouldn’t I be able to do the same?”
“You’ve picked up another human trait.” He opened his eyes, but they passed over her now, looking to the architectural adornment with the same interest he once bestowed on her. “Have you noticed how they demand what others have? They desire the fruits that spring only from diligence and toil, but they want an effect without a cause. You see them search for a shortcut, and if that can’t be found, they’d rather take a poor imitation, a little fix, than do what is necessary to create their own glory.”
“I’ve seen humans move with resolve. Would an Angel stay still until the Divine calls her? Where is the power that guides the Nephilim?”
She was worthy again of his gaze. “Iadanamad again? Could it be possible that all this was your way of seeking? You weren’t wrong to think there really was something to find, despite all that emptiness that surrounded you. Then who am I to deny you a glimpse of it now?”
Dominion of the Star (Descendants of the Fallen Book 1) Page 34
