Last of the Nephilim

by Bryan Davis

  Acacia groaned but said nothing. The flames flickered. No longer covering her feet, the line of fire receded up her legs and faded from her face.

  Ashley’s eyebeams coated the wound. The blood sizzled and hardened to black ash. Slowly, ever so slowly, a scab eased over the cut. Ashley’s legs jerked. Her entire body trembled, shaking Acacia as well, but she kept her eyebeams in place.

  Finally, with a slight popping sound, her beams blinked off. She pushed away from her mother, and with Acacia still hanging on, she toppled to the side. The flames died away as the two bodies sprawled across the ground.

  In a flash, Walter and Elam were at their side. Walter slid his hands under Ashley’s back, while Elam dropped to his seat and pulled Acacia into his arms.

  As Elam brushed Acacia’s hair back from her face, she gave him a weak smile. “I think she’s okay,” he called.

  Walter gritted his teeth. “Ashley’s still smoking!”

  Thigocia opened her eyes and tried to lift her head. “Move her into the clear where the breeze will cool her.”

  When he had pulled Ashley well away, Walter laid her on her back and began fanning her face. With her eyes loosely closed, she wheezed through half-second shallow breaths.

  “Anyone have any water?” he asked, turning toward Angel.

  Angel waved at a group of four women who had just stepped onto the field, led by Candle. “Birdsong! Greenleaf!” Angel shouted as she knelt at Ashley’s side. “Fill a tub from the spring! Hurry! I will meet you at your hut.”

  Two women turned and ran back to the village, while the other two hustled to join Angel. With curiosity-filled eyes they bent over and looked on.

  “I have heard of such fever,” Angel said, “but only among the marsh people.” She looked up at the new arrivals. “Carry her to the tub. Remove her clothes and cool her with wet cloths before setting her in the bath. We don’t want to shock her.”

  One woman picked up Ashley’s feet, while the other lifted her under her arms, and the two carried her toward the village.

  Candle stayed behind and touched Angel’s hip. “The men are gathering a search party. May I go with them?”

  “I will ask Valiant if you are old enough. For now, stay here. I might need you.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Candle sat in the grass and stared at a glass egg rocking back and forth on his palm. “I will wait for your word.”

  Angel laid her hand behind Walter’s head. “You should go with your Eve. She will probably awaken when she is put in the water, and if you are not there, she might be frightened. I will see to the others.”

  Heat flowed into Walter’s face. What did she mean by “Eve”? As he tried to figure out how to answer, he glanced at Thigocia. She had raised her head and was now testing her legs. Elam and Acacia stood side by side watching her. They all seemed fine. “If I’m not there,” he finally said, “Ashley might be scared, but if I am there, and she’s … well …”

  Angel set her cool fingers on Walter’s cheek. “This redness in your face. Is it shame?”

  “Not really. Just embarrassed at the thought of being around when she’s … you know.”

  “Uncovered?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “Well … yeah.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Are you not her Adam?”

  “Her Adam?”

  She tapped her foot on the ground and looked down at Candle. “What was that word Timothy used?”

  “Husband,” Candle said, rising to his feet. “And they say ‘wife’ instead of ‘Eve.’”

  Angel raised a finger. “Oh, yes, her husband.”

  Walter slid his hands into his pockets. “Well, no. Where I come from we don’t usually get married this young.”

  “I see. So you are from another world.” She took Candle’s hand and walked toward Elam and Acacia. “I was wondering why you had no companion.”

  Walter stayed near her side, just a step behind. What could she have meant by “companion”? Obviously she didn’t mean Ashley, but, if he asked, it would probably make the situation more confusing than ever.

  When Angel reached the others, she massaged Thigocia’s neck. “Father Abraham has told me about talking dragons, but you are the first I have met. I have many questions, including why Ashley called you her mother, but if you truly are her mother, I’m sure you want us to see how she is faring before I satisfy my curiosity.”

  “You have spoken well,” Thigocia said. “I do want to know about her recovery.” She narrowed her eyes to a pair of slits. “Your manner of address reminds me of a dear old friend, actually a relative of mine, but we can speak of that later, as well.”

  Angel smiled. “I have no dragon relations, but I love every dragon I have ever met.” She walked over to Thigocia’s wing and raised a loose flap. “We have people who mend dragon wings. Since you are larger than our passenger dragons, I doubt that you can navigate our streets, so I will send a leather worker out to you. Maybe by then he can bring word of your daughter’s condition.”

  A weak whinny sounded. Elam and Walter spun toward the call. A white horse plodded toward them, its head down and its coat striped with long red marks.

  “Dikaios!” Elam ran to the horse and threw his arms around its neck. As he pulled back, he brushed Dikaios’s mane up over his withers, revealing a deep gash. “What happened?”

  As the two walked toward the rest of the company, Dikaios spoke in a low voice. “After the dragon rescued Acacia, I had a violent disagreement with a large contingent of muskrats. While trying unsuccessfully to negotiate terms of peace, Flint’s men caught up and reintroduced me to their spears. Fortunately, they became preoccupied with the muskrats, allowing me to excuse myself. One of the muskrats tried to go for a ride on my back, and it took quite a while to discourage him. When I finally succeeded, I looked up in the sky and watched the dragon transfer Acacia from her claws to her back. I was so impressed, I decided to follow its path.”

  Elam grinned and rubbed an uninjured part of Dikaios’s coat. “Did you work on that explanation all the way over here?”

  “Yes.” Dikaios winked at him. “I thought I would mimic your penchant for understatement.”

  Angel clapped her hands twice. “With the exception of Father Abraham, all are accounted for. Valiant will want to send the search party immediately, but even if they find Father Abraham from the air, they will not be able to rescue him.” She set a hand on Elam’s shoulder. “We need our warrior chief to devise a plan to bring him home.”

  Elam took in a breath and exhaled loud and long. “Okay. Let’s go talk to Enoch’s Ghost.”

  Standing atop the turbine next to Yereq and Gabriel, Sapphira whipped the fiery cyclone above her head into a frenzy. As she swirled her arms, she followed the sound of a buzzing airplane engine and spotted Merlin closing in directly in front of her. “Okay,” she called. “Boost me up.”

  Yereq ducked below the fire and wrapped his huge hands around her waist. Suddenly, she flew upward until she was suspended a dozen feet above the turbine. Her head entered the eye of her firestorm for a moment, but as she continued waving her arms, it ascended and spun furiously around her hands.

  She reached down with her bare feet, trying to locate his shoulders. When she finally planted them firmly, she called to him. “When I say ‘Now,’ I’m going to jump and cover all three of us with the flames. The portal column should stay in the air long enough for the plane to fly into it.”

  “At your command,” Yereq said. “I will make sure you land gently.”

  Gabriel called from below. “And I’ll be here to catch you, just in case.”

  As the plane drew near, using her enhanced vision, she could see Billy and his father in the cockpit, both looking right at her through their windshield. She took a deep breath and held it. She had to time this just right. Once she lowered the portal column, she might not be able to see the plane at all.

  She brought her arms down. The ring of fire descended, making a flaming cocoon around
her body. The sound of whipping flames drowned out the buzzing propeller, and the plane faded into a miragelike apparition of swirling orange. Pulling her arms in at her sides, she closed her eyes, now relying on her memory of Merlin’s speed, and counted. Five … four … three … two … one … “Now!”

  She leaped off Yereq’s shoulders. With Yereq’s hands again around her waist, she drifted down. Her body slid out of her cocoon, and the flames continued to spin above her. As soon as her feet touched down, she thrust her fiery hands upward again, trying to weave a connection to the cyclone. The airplane blasted into the flaming wall, its landing gear barely sweeping over their heads. Like a toy twisting in a tornado, Merlin spun with the cyclone. As orange sparks launched in arching splashes, the wings melted away, then the fuselage, until the airplane and the portal disappeared.

  Sapphira clasped her hands together, snuffing her fire. She looked up at Yereq. He looked back at her. He reached down one of his meaty hands and took hers. “I am sure they are all right. They just went to the other world without us.”

  “Yeah,” Gabriel said. “An airplane couldn’t possibly burn up that fast.”

  “We’ll soon find out.” Sapphira pulled away from Yereq and raised her arms. “I’ll just make another portal and—”

  “No!” A new voice shouted from somewhere below. “You must not.”

  Sapphira lowered her hands and walked to the edge of the platform. A man waved from the turbine room floor. With her eyes still sharp, she had no trouble identifying the newcomer, a man she had recently seen from far away as he stood at Heaven’s Gate. “Enoch!”

  As the plane raced toward the twisting fire, Billy grabbed the hand rests and tensed his muscles. “Just a few seconds! Everyone hang on!”

  He looked back. Sirs Patrick and Barlow had copied his pose, but Shiloh sat comfortably, her hands loose on the rests. “This should be fun!” she said with a smile and a wink.

  “Yeah, right.” Billy wheeled to the front. “As fun as a hot foot!”

  His father gripped the control yoke, his knuckles white. “She jumped! I’m cutting the engine!”

  As the propeller’s buzz died, Billy held his breath. The flames splashed against the windshield. The airplane jerked to the right, but then settled. Instead of bursting out on the other side or spinning in a fiery carnival ride, they seemed to float in a sea of orange. Suddenly, as if kicked from behind, they blasted out of the cone and into the clear.

  “Restart!” Billy called.

  His father revived the engine. The propeller whirled up to speed, and the plane coasted over the new scenery with ease.

  Billy looked out the side window. The power plant, the dam, and the river had all disappeared. Now only a vast green meadow spread out below, dotted with lush trees and coated with a multi-colored blanket of wildflowers.

  He pumped his fist. “Woo-hoo! We made it!”

  His father flopped back in his seat and whispered, “Thank the Maker!”

  “Praise the Lord!” Shiloh called from the back. She turned to her father. “It worked! You were right!”

  “Yes, my prediction was accurate,” Sir Patrick said as he mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “But I must say, I had my doubts.”

  Sir Barlow squeezed as far as he could into the cockpit. “Any sign of the white-haired lass and her friendly giant?”

  Billy’s father turned the yoke. “We’re swinging back now to have a look.”

  Billy leaned forward and scanned the ground, searching the colors for a telltale spot of white. As they descended, however, the greens, purples, reds, and yellows that swept past them underneath gave no hint of white, or the other obvious feature, a man nearly as big as their airplane.

  After several passes of silent scanning, his father finally said, “No sign of them. We’ll have to land.”

  As they descended, Billy looked at the GPS monitor. A warning light said that the receiver had lost contact with the satellites. He settled back in his seat and let out a long breath. They really were in another world.

  Elam followed Angel into the humble abode, passing between two dragons painted on the exterior wall. Leaving the door open to allow light into the room, he stayed just a step behind her as she tiptoed forward.

  She stopped for a moment, then dashed to the back of the hut and slapped her palms on a table. “Where is it? It was here last night!”

  She dropped to her knees and searched the floor underneath. “It’s clear glass, the shape of an egg, and the size of a small cantaloupe.”

  Elam crossed his arms and scanned the area, his gaze hopping from a blanket-covered cot at the right side of the room, to an oval throw rug next to the cot, to a solitary hardback chair close to the table, to a well-worn kneeling altar at the left. “I’ve seen one before. Red mist inside, right?”

  She banged her head on the table, let out a yelp, then crawled out, her hand massaging her scalp. “Yes. That’s exactly right.” As she rose to her feet, she pointed at him. “You didn’t take it, did you?”

  “Not me.” He raised his hands and backed away. “I haven’t seen one in years.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just so confused, I’m not thinking straight.”

  “How about Flint? Or one of the shadow people?”

  “It’s too big for the shadow people to carry. They can barely manage one of our companions. And as long as Flint’s holding Father Abraham, I don’t think he would risk leaving his prisoner.”

  Angel scooted over to the cot and flipped up the thin, straw-stuffed mattress. While she looked through the blankets, Elam ran a finger along the table, making a line in the dust. Near the back, a round stand sat on the weathered wood. It, too, had made a slight path through the dust, as if someone had pushed it when taking the ovulum. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, something else came into view on the table. Was it writing?

  He stepped to the side, allowing light to spill over the table. He stooped and looked at it again, this time at an angle. The writing became clear—For Sapphira.

  Picking up the stand, he walked over to Angel. She flopped down on the cot and blew a shock of hair out of her eyes. Tears welled, sparkling in the light from the doorway. “I’m the last one who saw it,” she said, her voice breaking. “I came in here uninvited.”

  He sat next to her and set his elbows on his thighs, propping the empty stand in his fingers. “Don’t worry. I know where it is.”

  “You do? Where?”

  He smiled, partially because of Angel’s cry of relief and partially because he knew why his old friend had taken the ovulum. “Enoch has it.”

  She pointed at the floor. “Enoch walked right into this room?”

  “Apparently so. He wrote a note for me in the dust on the table.”

  “But why would he take it? We need his help so desperately! And why would he leave? He could have stayed and given us advice.”

  Elam got up and reached for her hand. “Enoch’s ways are mysterious, but my guess is that he wants me to rely on what I have already learned, and he knows someone else needs the ovulum more than we do.”

  Chapter 12

  New Journeys

  Gabriel flew down from the turbine, carrying Sapphira. As soon as her feet touched the main floor, she broke free from his embrace and ran into Enoch’s waiting arms. She pressed her cheek against his tunic and breathed in the aroma of worn leather. “Oh, Father Enoch! It’s so good to see you!”

  His strong hand patted her back, and his friendly voice rose above the sound of the nearby waterfall. “My dear girl, it is a delight to finally be with you after all these years.”

  As she rubbed her cheek against the rough tunic, she squeezed even tighter. “I’ll never forget how much you helped me! Never!”

  “Well, now I need your help.” When Gabriel joined them, Enoch gently pushed Sapphira away and waved at Yereq, who was climbing down the last few rungs of the ladder. “Come, and we’ll sit together so the four of us ca
n talk at the same level.”

  When they had all sat down on the floor, the wind eased, and the sun’s warming rays washed over them. Enoch took Sapphira’s hand and looked at her palm. “Your power is quite remarkable, young lady.”

  “Young lady?” Sapphira grinned. “Father Enoch, I’m thousands of years old.”

  “And I am older still, so I claim the right to call you young.” As he released her hand, his laugh lines smoothed out, and his eyes seemed to deepen with his tone. “It is because of your many years in the darkest of dungeons that I call for your help. You have successfully delivered the necessary warriors for the initial battle, but now I ask you to protect a warrior who will be needed later.”

  “So I have to stay here on Earth?”

  “In a manner of speaking. You see, since Earth and Hades have united, you don’t have to leave this realm at all.”

  A slight lump grew in her throat. “Do you want me to go back to Hades?”

  “As I said, you are already in Hades, but you will have to go—”

  “To the underground mines?” Her voice pitched higher. “But why?”

  “I am sending you and Yereq to protect a very special person. A slayer is chasing her, and without your help, she will likely fall into his hands.”

  “Is Bonnie the special person?”

  Enoch smiled. “Your many years have allowed you to figure out my thoughts very easily.”

  Sapphira tilted her head downward and intertwined her fingers. She had been in those caves for thousands of years, while her time spent in freedom had seemed like seconds, and most of those seconds had been filled with danger. Now Enoch, the great prophet who had given her so much, the bard who had introduced her to Elohim and had taught her how to dance with God, wanted her to return to that awful, horrible, dark place.

  As the image came to mind of her hovel, a gloomy dugout in the rock that held her little cave of a bed for hundreds of years, tears welled in her eyes. It was so lonely, especially after Elam left, and now … now when she thought she would get to go up to Heaven’s Gate and be with him … to touch him once again, see him smile, hold his hand …