Last of the Nephilim

by Bryan Davis

  “Who else do we have to worry about?” Elam asked. “Morgan?”

  With the aid of his wings, Clefspeare lumbered to the edge of the garden. Elam followed and stood next to the mighty dragon.

  “Walter witnessed Morgan’s entry into the Lake of Fire,” Clefspeare said. “She will never escape, but there are many other evil beings still lurking in our world. If they were to come here, the odds against us would climb even higher.”

  As the clouds gave way to the sun, Elam looked out over the garden. “Then we will post a constant guard. If anyone shows up, we’ll know right away.”

  “If Arramos were to come, I am the only one powerful enough to face him, and even then, I doubt that I would be able to defeat him. Contain him, perhaps, until help arrives, but it is impossible to be certain.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “First, we should ask the Oracle of Fire to see if a portal exists in the garden. If so, perhaps she or Listener’s spyglass can pierce the veil and tell us what lies beyond.”

  Elam nodded. “Good. We can do that. Anything else?”

  “Gather whatever jewels and gold the people can spare. Thigocia and I will make regeneracy domes here, and we will sleep at danger’s doorstep. If the threat escalates, we will awaken, and if the jewels do their work, perhaps we will be better equipped to face whatever is beyond that door.”

  As Elam trained his gaze on the open pod at the center of the garden, something glinted in the emerging sunlight. “Be right back. I see something.” Keeping his eye on the spot, he jogged along one of the furrows until he reached the central circle. He knelt next to the open plant, now tipped to the side, exposing a small cluster of roots. A crystalline egg, much like one of the companions, lay nestled in the roots’ tendrils.

  Using his fingertip, Elam gave the crystal a light prod. As fragile as the thinnest of eggshells, the outer casing cracked, revealing a tiny red bead inside. He coaxed the bead out with his finger and laid it in his palm. Sparkling like a ruby, it was clearly a jewel of some kind, yet it was smaller than the rubellites he had seen, and it had a rubbery feel.

  “What is it?” Clefspeare called.

  “I’m not sure.” As he let the bead roll in his palm, a scene from long ago played in his mind, actually the memory of a story Merlin had told him during their last meeting. Sapphira had planted a seed in the sixth circle of Hades, a red-and-white-striped bead that grew into the plant that kept Shiloh alive for forty years.

  He pinched it and held it close to his eyes. Could this red bead grow? If so, what would come from it? There was only one way to find out. He dug a shallow hole with his fingers and dropped the bead inside. Then, after covering it up, he smoothed the dirt on top and laid the wilted plant over it, whispering, “When those he calls will not obey, the Maker finds another way.”

  Chapter 20

  The Underborn Returns

  Sapphira held out her dim lantern, searching the stone wall for the familiar hole. Several sections of the tunnel system had caved in, destroying the usual landmarks. Still, the hot springs survived, so this tunnel should lead them to … Yes. There it was, the drawing of Yereq as a spawn Paili had etched with a hunk of limestone so many years ago. The hovel wouldn’t be far now.

  She looked back at Bonnie, Irene, Shiloh, and Gabriel trailing by quite a distance as they stepped over rocks that littered the floor. Gabriel stretched a wing around Bonnie and pulled her close, both smiling as they chatted happily.

  And why not? He had been her invisible guardian angel for years. She had even seen him during one of his rare moments of semitransparency. Bonnie was five or six years old, a weeping child whose heart had been broken by her father’s cruel name-calling. In many ways, he had restored a little girl’s faith in angelic protectors, though he wasn’t really that sort of angel.

  Now, they were together, able to relive those tender moments, as well as another fateful event, a snowy December night when Palin came to call in Bonnie’s bedroom, ready to slay her as she slept. Somehow, Gabriel’s prayers for her protection were miraculously answered, and Palin simply walked away.

  Gabriel stretched out his other wing and pulled Shiloh in. Although she hadn’t even been aware, he had also acted as her guardian angel. Both laughing as they talked, it sounded like he was now revealing his failed attempt to keep her safe that terrible day when Morgan kidnapped her at the Glastonbury Tor and took her to the sixth circle of Hades.

  Sapphira turned her attention back to her task, searching the tunnel walls for her hovel. After a couple of minutes, she spotted the low opening. “I found it,” she called.

  When the others caught up, Sapphira ducked under the chest-high opening and dropped the two feet or so to her hovel’s floor. Bonnie joined her and, cinching up her backpack, extended a hand to help her mother. Shiloh, also wearing a backpack, hopped down without a problem, but Gabriel had to scrunch his wings to squeeze through. Soon they all stood in front of two cubbyholes in the wall.

  Sapphira set her lantern on the floor. “I thought Bonnie and her mother could sleep here. That way they’d be surrounded by rocks, and maybe the slayer wouldn’t be able to find her.”

  Bonnie crawled into one of the cubbyholes and lay on a thin mattress, poking a finger through a ragged perforation in the side. “How long did you stay here?”

  Sapphira looked at Bonnie’s finger. A strip of dark tape covered her rubellite ring. “Part of the time,” Sapphira replied, “I lived in the museum room, but if you count it all together …” She shrugged. “Somewhere between four and five thousand years. I lost track.”

  “Five thousand years?” Irene touched Sapphira’s cheek. “You poor girl! How could you stand being in this dark place for so long?”

  Sapphira sat down on the floor and hovered her hand over the lantern’s outer glass. “When you’re born in darkness, and it’s all you know, it doesn’t seem so bad. You don’t really even notice it. But once you’ve been in the light, darkness is the worst place in the world.” She breathed in deeply and smiled. “At least we won’t be here that long this time.”

  Gabriel stretched out his wings, nearly filling the small chamber before pulling them back in. “This place isn’t exactly the Holiday Inn, but it’s … uh … cozy.” He looked up at the entrance hole. “Where are the rest of us going to sleep?”

  “I thought Shiloh and I could use the pair of hovels in the next chamber, but it doesn’t really matter who sleeps where, except for you, Gabriel. You can go to Elam’s old room.”

  “Elam’s room?” Gabriel hugged himself and spoke in mock horror. “You mean where that slave-driving giant used to beat Elam mercilessly, eat all his food, and drink himself to sleep?”

  Thoughts of Elam’s tortures still stung Sapphira’s mind, but she knew Gabriel wanted to set up a joke, so she obliged with a big smile. “Yep. The torture capital of the underworld. If Nabal’s still there, he can break you in with the whip tonight.”

  “Sounds perfect. You girls should bring some popcorn and watch.” He nodded toward the hovel’s exit. “Should I wander around in darkness until I find it?”

  “No, silly. I’ll show you in a minute.” Sapphira reached toward the wall and set her finger in the fist-sized hole at its base. “It’s right through there, so we can communicate.” As she pushed her finger through, her mind drifted back thousands of years to the time she pushed handfuls of stew through this hole to feed Elam on the other side. Even now her fingers tingled as she imagined Elam licking the stew from her skin, an invisible boy so starved that he had to get every drop of precious nourishment. “Maybe Shiloh and I should take this room after all.”

  She pointed to the curved bone in Irene’s hand. “Is that the one Enoch said I was supposed to take?”

  “Yes.” Irene handed it to her. “Do you know what to do with it?”

  “Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon.”

  Once Sapphira had settled everyone in their hovels, she and Gabriel walked together
in the tunnel. Sapphira paused at a side corridor where the sound of falling water sent an echo all around. Although the source was no more than a six-foot-wide stream, the tunnel magnified its sound into that of a hundred cascading rivers.

  “You can take your bath now,” she said, extending the lantern. “Girls will go in the morning. No worries about running out of hot water here, but you’ll have to drip dry. Maybe Yereq can get us some towels the next time he brings supplies.”

  “Not a problem.” He took the lantern and let it swing from his finger. “But how will you find your way in the dark if you’re not allowed to use your power?”

  “With this.” She withdrew the ovulum from underneath her shirt. As it rocked back and forth on her palm, it cast a red aura all around. “I think Enoch is ready to talk to me, so I’m going to find a quiet place to listen.”

  “Sounds good. I guess no one will bother you down here.”

  “Not likely. I shouldn’t be gone too long, so when you’re ready for me to show you your bed, set the lantern on the floor here, and I’ll know it’s okay to come back.”

  She turned to walk away, but Gabriel grasped her wrist and pulled her gently toward him. He lowered the lantern to the floor, then pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as he whispered, “Can I be completely honest with you?”

  The lantern’s light flickered in his face, reflecting in his sparkling tears. His touch sent chill bumps across her skin. She gave a shrug, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Uh … sure. I mean, we’re going to be stuck together for quite a while. We should be honest with each other.”

  He kept his eyes locked on hers. “I’m not trying to be forward or anything, but I wanted to let you know that you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. You saved my life. You saved Bonnie’s life. You saved Shiloh’s life, too. And you did it all after suffering alone for thousands of years.”

  As a wave of warmth pulsed through her body, she lifted a finger. “It was a team effort. You helped me rescue Bonnie.”

  He laid his palms on her cheeks. They felt cool against her hot skin. “Learn to take a compliment. You are an amazing girl, Sapphira Adi, and I want you to know that someone appreciates all you’ve done.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Now go talk to Enoch, and tell him I said, ‘Howdy.’”

  He picked up the lantern and walked into the side corridor, slowly fading as darkness swallowed his form. With the sound of tumbling water again dominating the tunnel, she stared at the residual glow. Her cheeks still flamed. Prickles coated her skin. His gentle touch and soft words brought Elam to mind.

  She sighed deeply. Oh, how she ached to be with him again! Would they ever get together? Would she ever have a chance to whisper the words she had longed to say to him for centuries?

  As she walked toward the museum room, guided by the ovulum’s glow, she shook her head. Maybe she and Elam would never be together. They were separated by more than just miles. She was once again trapped in the depths of Hades while he fought against demonic enemies in another realm. Would he survive? Would she ever leave this place once and for all? Maybe they both had been called by God to suffer and die without ever fulfilling their own dreams, just like many faithful saints of times gone by. As children, they had lived as slaves to Morgan, suffering for many years under her cruel hand. Now they served God, but their suffering continued.

  Sapphira passed the old portal room, the chamber that housed the spinning column of light Morgan had used to send her and Mardon to the upper world. That first time in the land of Shinar had been the most wondrous day of her life—her first glimpse of the sun, her first conversations with unshackled humans, and her first view of dance, a man and woman spinning and leaping in gorgeous costumes bearing every color of the rainbow. Up to that point, the colors in her life had been brown, gray, and orange, and each one of those muted by the darkness of the underworld. Yet, even as wonderful as that day had been, it soon crumbled into the worst day imaginable. After the dragons toppled Nimrod’s tower, she had to return in shame to her slavery.

  She squeezed past a fallen boulder and entered the final tunnel. All of life had been like that. She would witness an amazing miracle and experience God’s tender love and care, but the miracle would soon be followed by a tragic collapse, and she always ended up back in the same place … the mines. She had outlived Morgan and Naamah, Nimrod and Mardon, and most of the whip-bearing Nephilim. Now she was queen of the caves, the empress of emptiness, once again marooned and wandering alone in the midst of the loneliest place in the universe.

  As she approached the opening to the museum room, she slowed her pace. Ahead lay the massive chamber where she had spent so many hundreds of years alone watching the world above through a portal screen. She extended her hand, allowing the ovulum’s red glow to illuminate the area. Directly in front of her, the museum looked like it always did, yet now, shrouded in a scarlet cloak, it seemed more sinister than ever. At one time it had served as the lower third of the great Tower of Babel, a pitiful excuse for a stairway to heaven, but now it stood as a blood-drenched prison guard, a warden who once loomed over her, marking off year after year of solitude as the only witness to her sufferings.

  The portal screen that had always given her glimpses of worlds beyond was gone. It had been the only window to light and freedom, but someone slammed it shut, boarded it over, and made this prison darker than ever.

  The ovulum’s light slowly brightened. Enoch’s familiar voice emanated from within. “Why are you so troubled, my child?”

  She let her sad smile stay in place. “The mines remind me of so many bad things. I thought I would never have to come back.”

  “Yet, so many good things happened here, as well. It was here that you watched Bonnie and gained the kind of faith she has in the Messiah. It was from here that you were able to leap into the Great Key and create the covenant veil that ushered the residents of Dragons’ Rest into Heaven. It was here that you learned how to suffer in darkness so that you could bring comfort to your friends who are now called to do the same.”

  “I know. Keep reminding me.” She brought the ovulum closer to her eyes and tried to find Enoch within, but red mist veiled the center. “How long am I going to be here?”

  “I expect that it will be quite a long time, but it depends on how events transpire in Second Eden. Your friend Elam will help determine both the destiny of that land and the timing of your departure from this place.”

  “Will I ever get to be with Elam? I mean, I know I’ll get to see him in Heaven when we die, but I wanted to someday …” She paused and bit her lip.

  “You want to be united with him through the covenant of marriage.” A warm, gentle laugh flowed from the ovulum. “Yes, I know, dear child, but I cannot answer that question. I simply have no idea. God’s purposes are often fulfilled through the sacrifice of our personal desires.”

  She nodded. “So I have more sacrifices ahead of me?”

  “That remains to be seen.” The mist billowed for a moment, then settled. “Now let us go into the museum room. I want to remind you of another wonderful event that happened in one of these underground chambers.”

  With the ovulum’s glow as bright as ever, she had no problem finding her way through the museum’s broken door. She walked to the center of the room and stopped at the edge of the circular planter where the tree of life still stood. Although greenery covered most of the branches, it bore no fruit and seemed to be the same height as before.

  She looked around. The magnetic bricks she had placed to give light to the tree no longer emitted their colorful beams. Apparently the lack of energy played a part in stopping the tree’s fruit production.

  Still, the tree felt like an altar, a place to come for meditation and prayer, a place of silence. She raised the ovulum to her lips and whispered to Enoch, “I’m here.”

  “Do you have the rib?”

  She lifted it close to the ovulum, still whispering. “Right here.”

  “Kneel at t
he side of the tree’s planter and lay it in the soil near the trunk.”

  Balancing the ovulum in her palm, Sapphira lowered herself to her knees and set the bone on the cool, dark earth. As she looked at the soil, the contrasting shades of white on black sharpened. Tiny pores in the bone’s surface magnified, enabling her to see minute grains of dirt embedded within, and her emotions sank even further than before, two sure signs that a portal was near.

  “Where does this portal lead?” she asked.

  “To a place that is not ready to receive you yet. You must not attempt a passage until I give you permission.”

  “Okay. I put the bone by the tree. Anything else?”

  “Did you bring the soil Yereq collected in the Bridgelands?”

  Sapphira dug into her jeans pocket and pulled out a handful of dirt. “I’ve got it.”

  “Sprinkle it evenly on top of the tree’s bed.”

  Holding her fist over the soil, she opened the gaps between her fingers while scooting around the planter on her knees. When she finished, she brushed her hand on her jeans. “Okay. That’s done.”

  “Now set the ovulum down, call a hot fire to your hands, and rub the bone’s surface. Pick it up to make sure you massage the entire bone, but keep your hands over the soil.”

  After setting the ovulum gently at the edge of the planter, Sapphira raised her hands, her palms pointing upward, and whispered, “Ignite. And make it hot.” Fire leaped from her hands. White and at least a foot tall, the flames seemed hot even to her fireproof skin. She picked up the bone and wrapped her fingers around both ends, then, pushing it through her grip, she coated the entire surface with her blaze.

  As she rubbed, the bone sizzled and popped. Radiant white drops spilled to the soil, and sparkling smoke rose toward the upper reaches of the tower. The bone began to shrink in her grip, becoming more slender with each second. “Enoch!” she called. “It’s melting!”

  The mist in the ovulum swirled. “When it completely dissolves, spread the residue around and cover it over.”