when he answered the phone. He left the group in the kitchen and wandered onto the slabbed patio, glad of the peace and the night breeze that kept away the midges.
“Where are you, Jackson?”
“In a van on our way to the abbey, why?”
“I suggest you come here instead.” He quickly summarised the events of the night.
Jackson’s normally confident tone faltered. “They’ve escaped? Again?”
“Honestly, we’re not sure where they are. They’re either circling back, or have a well-planned escape route.”
“Did you get anything?”
Ash sighed as he remembered the scant items they’d been able to salvage. “Look, come here and we can explain better. Preferably without your team.”
He listened to the mumble of voices while Jackson conferred, and then he said, “I’ll be with you soon.”
Ash turned to watch the drama playing out in the kitchen, the bright yellow lights showing the tableau of activity. Niel was doing what he always did when faced with a crisis—he cooked. Right now he was cooking up a storm, a very apt word for it too, because the crash of pans was like thunder. Gabe was having a heated debate with Nahum, both of them wearing stern expressions, both gesturing at the papers they’d rescued that were placed on the table and the images now secured to the kitchen walls. Barak was leaning on the counter, arms folded across his mammoth chest as he watched and listened, the quiet centre of the space. Estelle and Shadow were elsewhere in the house, Estelle tending Shadow’s wounds. Yet another worry.
In the cool of the garden, unseen, he studied the images of the stone tablet, pondering on the references to the Igigi. They were their contemporaries a lifetime ago—half man, half beast. Some of whom could fly. No wonder Black Cronos was interested in these hybrid creatures. They were created by the Sumerian Gods, the Anunnaki, for labour, and were treated as slaves. Monstrously strong, considered demons by some, they eventually fought back and fled across the desert, before vanishing without a trace. At the time, rumours were varied. Some said they were dead, their bodies buried where no one would find them. Others said they had made a new life for themselves. Even if they had survived, in theory they would have died later in the flood.
Taking another deep breath, Ash returned to the kitchen, took a seat at the table, and pulled the papers towards him, hoping not to get dragged into the argument.
Too late.
”Ash! You’re the scholar amongst us!” Gabe said, his expression tight. “What do you think this passage means?”
“I’ve barely looked at it, so I can’t say right now. Maybe when I’ve had a chance to read it properly…”
“Read it now! It’s legible!”
Ash’s gaze slid to Nahum, whose eyes held a warning, and then back to Gabe. “It’s a large amount of text. We’d be unwise to jump to conclusions.”
“But if Black Cronos know where they are…”
“Were,” Nahum corrected him. “They still have to find the place, and that won’t be easy!”
Gabe rounded on him. “But they could have been studying that text for months!”
“Or mere days,” Ash said calmly. “Obviously they thought the stone tablet important enough to hide within a booby-trapped bunker, but it doesn’t mean they’ve found anything.”
“If anything,” Barak added, “it means they’re only just starting to translate it. Look at it! The photos are clear, but the writing is tiny. Certain words are weathered and damaged. Even we who translate easily would have to make calculated guesses to interpret it properly.”
Ash shot Barak a grateful glance. They had all been shaken by mention of the Igigi, but he was glad to see that most of his brothers were calming down now. “Exactly. We need to take these home and study them properly. What I’d like to know is where that stone tablet is.”
Nahum nodded. “I’d like to see the original too, but that would seem impossible right now.”
A knock at the door disturbed them, and Ash stood. “That will be Jackson. I’ll get it.”
Barak waved him down. “Let me.”
Instead of sitting again, Ash left Nahum to reason with Gabe, and headed to the fridge to get a beer. He wished he could go to bed, but knew they needed to talk a few things through before then. Their nerves were all on edge after the night they’d had. He was aching from the earlier explosion, and grimy with dust and dirt. He grabbed several bottles, placing one on the counter next to Niel. “Are you okay?”
Niel grunted as he flipped the steaks using his left hand, his right arm now in a sling. “I’m more annoyed that we got bested by that bloody woman than the Igigi.”
“How’s your arm?”
“Sore, but I can feel it getting better already. Muscle damage to my shoulder—not a break.”
Ash nodded. One of their abilities was understanding their bodies’ injuries, as well as healing them quickly. “Good. We’ll come across her again, there’s no doubt about that. You’ll get your revenge. We all will.”
As he crossed the kitchen to the table with the other beers, Barak returned with Jackson, Estelle, and Shadow. Whatever healing magic Estelle had used on Shadow had worked. She looked to be her normal feisty, self—well, almost.
Shadow turned down Ash’s offered beer, instead heading for the fridge. “Gin for me.”
“Me too, please!” Estelle called after her as she sat at the table. She and Shadow still didn’t seem that comfortable together, but at least their blatant animosity had waned.
Shadow nodded and prepared their drinks, but Jackson paused at the door to the kitchen, his sharp eyes sweeping over them. “If you don’t mind me saying so, tensions seem to be high tonight, and many of you look injured. What happened?”
Ash tapped the chair next to him. “Take a seat. This will take a while.”
“You all need to sit,” Niel’s commanding voice said. “Food is ready. We can talk while we eat.”
Jackson laughed. “Steak and chips at three in the morning! I haven’t done that since my student years. Is there enough for me?”
Ash laughed too, glad to feel the atmosphere brightening as they all found a seat. “You’ve clearly never experienced Niel’s cooking before. He prepares enough for a small army.”
Between them they summarised the night’s events, and Jackson made notes on a pad he pulled from his pocket, jotting down points while he ate, and asking the odd question as they went. When they finished, he exhaled heavily. “Potentially, every place of theirs that we might find could have similar traps. That’s worrying.”
Gabe pushed his empty plate away. “I’m not sure the abbey is safe, even now. There are a few corridors we didn’t explore. I’m not sure it’s okay for your men.”
“Agreed,” Nahum said. “They could be planning to return, too.”
“Nevertheless, we have to search it.” Jackson’s gaze swung to the images of the tablet. “Are those everything you found?”
Ash shook his head. “No, we just took the essentials. There are more papers down there, abandoned rooms, dead dogs, and of course Toto escaped with a bag.”
“Dangerous or not, we have to go, but we’ll proceed carefully,” Jackson said, sipping his beer. “However, what I’m more interested in right now is the Igigi. What’s the big deal with them?”
“I’d like to know that, too,” Shadow said, staring at the Nephilim accusingly, especially Gabe. “You’re all very cagey, and I want to know why!”
Ash felt sorry for her. Shadow hated to be left out of the loop, and her injury had side-lined her for a short while. “Because,” he told her, “they are superhumans. Well, half human, half beast. Made by the Sumerian Gods for labour.”
“And what are Sumerians?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
“An ancient Mesopotamian people who lived in the south of the region—now the Middle East. It was a collection of city states more than anything else. But they were clever, inventive people, highly respected. They invented the concept of time—literally the way the day is structured, and the concepts of cities and farming. And,” Ash added, staring at the tablet, “they invented writing. Cuneiform, it’s called now.”
Nahum gave a dry laugh. “Yes. The world literally changed around us. And as we lived for a long time, we saw how those changes civilised everyone.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair, tapping his notebook. “The Sumerians were undiscovered until the nineteenth century. They were lost to time until then.”
All of the Nephilim were shocked at that, their heads jerking around to stare at Jackson.
“Are you serious?” Gabe asked, confusion clouding his features. “They were a powerhouse. It seems impossible that they would have disappeared.”
“Really, brother?” Niel said sceptically. “Many civilisations are buried beneath deserts, jungles, and modern cities. What remains is paltry. The British Museum, and I’m sure many like it, prove that. Mere fragments remain.”
Ash hated this talk as much as he loved it. To think of their own time utterly destroyed was unnerving and fascinating.
Jackson continued, “Their existence was discovered by scholars who were anxious to prove the Bible’s stories. What they found challenged everything. It proved the Bible wrong, for one thing. It pushed history back…or I should say, civilisations. A place referenced in the Bible—Shinar—puzzled scholars for years. It turned out to be Sumer.”
“Because that book is full of stories,” Estelle said, amused. “Interesting for the light they shed on a certain time and place, but that’s all.”
Ash watched Jackson, intrigued. He had paused in his note taking, and was leaning forward, studying them all intently. Ash voiced his thoughts. “You seem well-informed on this topic, Jackson. How come?”
“I’m a collector, like Harlan and Olivia. I like knowing about old things. Sumer is one of the more fascinating places. It has its own flood history, too. It was documented in the Epic of Gilgamesh, which I admit to having only a passing knowledge of.”
Ash was familiar with it. “I’ve done much reading on the flood since our return. It seems the Sumerian Gods colluded with our own God in wanting to rid the world of humans. One of their men was able to build an ark, as well.” He looked at his brothers. “Either way, it wiped us out.”
“A universal flood myth?” Shadow asked, intrigued.
“It appears in many histories,” Ash told her. “Time and time again. We weren’t the only civilisation at the time. But as we’ve said before, I doubt it was a worldwide flood. Maybe just most of the Mediterranean and the Middle East. How would we know, though? It killed us.” Ash’s last memory surfaced of him standing on a hill watching a gigantic wave roll in, smashing everything in its path. He had considered taking flight, but he was far from the mountains. He had waited with the others besides him, resigned to his fate, and feeling like he had deserved it for some of his activities. He, like his brothers, now felt their time on Earth was a chance to rectify past behaviours. A type of atonement.
Shadow was single-minded, however, her questions dragging him from his reverie. “And the Igigi? Where do they fit in?”
“The Sumerians,” Niel said, “had their own Gods, like many civilisations did. Each of their city states had one. The Gods created the Igigi to build their cities and do the heavy work. That’s why they were so powerful. They could work tirelessly for hours.”
Nahum cut in, “Until they decided they didn’t want to. They rebelled.”
“And,” Gabe added, “our own God became twitchy at their rebellion. Some of us were sent to subdue them. We failed, and they disappeared.”
Ash had not been part of that, but knew why Gabe was so troubled. He, Niel, Zee, and Nahum had fought them, and it had been hard and dangerous. Some of the Nephilim had died. Barak, like Ash and Eli, had not been involved.
Estelle asked, “Their own Gods couldn’t subdue them?”
“It seemed not,” Gabe answered bleakly. “And we never found them once they escaped.”
“But that tablet,” she pointed beyond his ear to the wall, “points the way?”
They all turned to stare at it as Gabe’s low voice rumbled around the room. “It seems to tell the remnants of their history, and yes, suggests a resting place. But that’s just my initial interpretation.”
“A resting place that Black Cronos is searching for?” Shadow asked.
“It appears so.” Gabe gave a dry laugh. “They’re powerful enough already, without recruiting the Igigi to their side.”
“You think they’re still alive?” Estelle asked, alarmed.
“I sincerely hope not,” Niel said, “but equally I wouldn’t rule it out.” He glanced at his brothers as he started to collect the empty plates together. “I doubt, however, that they could have kept their existence so quiet over so many millennia. They must be dead.”
“Agreed,” Barak rumbled.
Jackson folded his notebook and put it in his pocket. “It’s maybe just their bones that Toto wants. We have no idea how they fit into his plans. Yet. But we do need to stop him.” He looked around the table, weighing them up one by one. “Are you interested in helping?”
Gabe didn’t even consider their opinion when he answered, and Ash knew why. It was unfinished business. All of it.
“Of course, we will.”