Chapter 8

 

 

 

I expected to end up in another place or room, but I found myself in a blank space. It felt as if I had stepped out of space and time. What was this I had gotten myself into? Maybe this wasn’t really a portal. I could feel Uriel’s presence next to me. His silent body reassured me that everything would be all right. I turned to ask him what came next. For a split moment, it crossed my mind that all this could be a well-plotted trap, or some magical prison designed specifically for me and my magic. After all, they knew very well what I was.

Nephilim, my mind hissed at me like it was a curse word. The doubts and fears dispelled as soon as Uriel nodded to me. As he waved with his hand, a four-dimensional hologram appeared before us. Images and pictures flashed in it, as real as daylight. It felt like I was in some parallel universe. A series of world events played out. I quickly recognized a legion of angels descending from the heavens on fiery, glowing wings—some white, some darker, and others black as the night--that extended from their shoulders down to their hips and whose feathers swept the ground as they landed to walk. In the next moment, all the angels began fighting with each other. The black- and darker-feathered ones regrouped, combining their efforts, and conspiring against the white-feathered angels. A battlefield set against the mountaintops flashed out, coming to life. The wind blew colder, and a freezing chill prickled my skin, encasing my whole body. The atmosphere charged with heaviness. The scent of blood, gore, and poison rolled off the scene. Death, danger, and pain loomed over the mountain hill like a treacherous serpent. A multitude of dead white-winged and black-winged angels’ corpses were scattered around, lying on the dry and cracked soil. A handful of living dark-feathered and black-feathered angels contrasted the death picture, celebrating what seemed like a pyrrhic victory.

“Hail, Lord Drogo!” A dark angel raised his blood-tainted spear in the air, his massive black wings fluttering. Smeared and still-hot blood dripped off them as he saluted another black-winged angel. The remaining angels joined the cheers, chanting Drogo’s name, their deep bass voices echoing in the space. Darkness and worry stirred in my chest, tightening their grip. The angels’ chosen leader, Drogo, was a tall, brooding angel with a stubby beard, a set of small horns popping up from his curly hair. His wings were bigger than the wings of the other angels, reaching the earth, glowing in dark hues. They heaved slower and heavier when he talked and moved. I spotted fangs sparkling in his mouth as he gave the cheering crowd a crooked smile. Bloodthirst and the promise of deadly retribution gleamed in his crimson eyes. As soon as my eyes locked with his, I screamed. My cry echoed in my lungs, suffocating me. The hologram shimmered, vibrating wildly, and then shattered to hundreds of millions of small pieces. I bent, crouching, and firmly closed my eyes, fearing for my life.

“It’s all an illusion,” I repeated to myself, but the fear raced stronger, overriding my rational mind.

“It’s all right, Aiyana. You’re in a safe place now.” Uriel’s voice caressed my ears, and I listened intently. The air was still and no sound of breaking glass or cheering dark angels was heard. I tentatively opened my eyes and found myself back in Eden Hall. The other gods and archangels watched me with bated breaths.

“I take it you’ve met Drogo, right, darling?” Enki asked me, small dark flames dancing in his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was being friendly toward me or poked fun at my momentary terror. In my defense, Drogo was easily the most vicious dark supernatural I have met so far. His magic tasted like a soup of poisonous scorpions, his energy alone giving me a headache.

“What did you see, love?” Durga asked me. As the only woman in the Council, she was the friendliest toward me, showing motherly compassion. I appreciated it.

“A tall, black-winged guy with small horns on his head, crimson eyes that flashed with a demoniacal gleam…” I shivered, describing what I saw. “I spotted fangs in his mouth, too.”

She nodded, her face turning more serious, her features hardening.

“The guy who you just saw is Drogo Rothstein,” Michael said. “He is the leader of the dark Nephilim or as they have pronounced themselves, the dark watchers. Sometimes they refer to themselves as gibborims.”

Meanwhile, Durga’s face hardened even further, her eyes fixed in the space ahead of her. Distracted by her dreamy, lost eyes and vibe, I didn’t notice how a crashing electrical current hit my own thread, igniting the magic in my center. The air charged with the taste of gunpowder and iron, carrying with it the beating drum song of ancient lands and tribes long lost on Earth. The space before us shimmered and another hologram, this time smaller, appeared: the face of Drogo Rothstein popping up in all his demoniacal glory. The taste in my mouth went sour, and my guts twisted in disgust as I locked eyes with his image.

“He’s a senior Nephilim, one of the originals. He’s the first Nephilim the Creator made. Not only that, but he’s also the most ancient vampire in the world, in our current civilization,” Shiva said, pointing at the static hologram.

“From Drogo, all the other vampires have descended. He is easily one of the darkest supernaturals…” Raphael chimed in and quickly added, “besides first-tier demons and, of course, the leader of the Black Court.”

The boss in charge of the Black Court was Lucifer, but compared to the monster projected before my eyes, he almost seemed like a baby demon. I had never seen Lucifer and hoped I would never have the honor. From friends and student colleagues, I knew he was a force to be reckoned with. He could be helpful but would never miss the chance to deceive the hell out of you. It all depended on if he had something to gain from you, and whether or not he respected you.

Enki cleared his throat. “Speaking of demons, I have to tell you this. My lost brother, Enlil, spilled his own eagle-shifter blood, giving Drogo part of his powers, too.” The darkness in his eyes mounted, resembling two glowing charcoals. Incredibly, before we started discussing Drogo, his eyes gleamed in a turquoise color. Strange shivers crept up and down my spine, and I had to calm my mind.

“And you want me to fight this, umm…monster?” I asked the Council members. I called all the strength I could muster in my voice to sound nonchalant. This special project—or as they called it, “Mission Fallen Conspiracy”—might turn out to be more than I could chew. Procuring artifacts and occasionally fighting monsters was one thing, but that dark, fallen angel and his minions was a whole next-level evil. My mythology teacher at the academy would call this Drogo guy “the archetype of the universe’s wickedness.” Very fitting choice of words. But the real question was could I pull it off? Me, a bartender, scraping for a living. A girl who’d suppressed her magic and powers all her life. Those concerns burned in my mind, painting my thoughts in dark, shadowy colors. I liked this mission less and less as I learned more about what I had to go through.

“He keeps the Scroll of Lies in his castle, locked underground. We suspect it might be somewhere in his basement,” Durga said. She waved her hand and the hologram of a medieval, dilapidated castle zoomed in the space before us. The castle was rather short, and I got the impression it was tilted on the right side. I took a deep breath. The castle was better than Drogo’s obnoxious face.

“His fortress base is none other than the infamous Houstitz Castle.”

Oh, crap! It sounded very much like Auschwitz. I twitched nervously in my seat.

“Do you know about it? Did you study about the castle at the academy?” Raphael turned to me. I shook my head no. I thanked fates and magic we hadn’t studied about that castle or I would have had nightmares, especially in my early teen years.

“I told you they teach them only crap in those schools,” Loki chimed in, his voice soaring high in Eden Hall like a hawk’s screech. “No fun stuff, no useful knowledge, nada. Enki, bro, we ought to initiate a revolution. You, of everyone, know best that we can—”

“Loki!” Shiva’s thunderstorm of a voice boomed in the hall, chilling my bones. Loki wasn’t impressed, judging by the look of boredom written on his face. He shut up, though, and let out a low grunt in resignation.

Durga turned to me. “Houstitz Castle is situated a few miles from Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic. It marks the border that separated Hell from the earthly plane. That’s why some supernaturals call it the Gates of Hell.”

“Centuries ago,” Shiva said, “Drogo tried to unleash a league of evil, summoning all banished and locked-up demoniacal entities, even those that the Black Court had declared as abominations. We intervened and built a vault chamber at the pit of the castle where all those rascals are kept at bay.” Shiva’s eyes turned a shade darker as the hologram vibrated, changing its colors. The image of a bottomless pit zoomed into the space before us. Dark, creepy energy filled the air as if the castle’s magic could travel and infuse the space even through the holograms. The taste in my mouth went sour as if I’d drunk the bitter coffee that Andrew, the son of my boss, once prepared for me. My heart jumped into my throat as dark shadows danced in the hologram against a magically illuminated vault. Hellish scarlet flames burst out of it, trying to swallow the place, blowing away the infernal powers of horror, pain, and suffering. The vault resonated, its magical shield bending to the massive power waved against it, but it managed to push away the hellish flames. A purple-blue protective wall rose up and encased the flames and creatures crawling down in the pit. I could hear the howling of hellhounds, ghouls, and other lower demoniacal spirits. The screaming, hissing, biting, and scratching froze my blood.

“Last year, shortly before Christmas, our informant told us that Drogo had procured the Scroll of Lies. He keeps it in this castle, and I’d bet it’s close to or inside this bottomless pit,” Michael said, his wings igniting in fiery red hues as if in response to the hologram’s image of the castle’s pit and the monsters roaming there. With Michael’s wings glowing, his magic came to my senses, tasting like strong malt whiskey against the back of my throat. That’s exactly what I needed! After watching these horrific pictures of Durga’s castle playing out in front of me, I surely needed back-up ammunitions.

“We tried to get to the scroll, but Drogo and his cronies put protective spells around it, making it invisible to everyone else. Only Nephilim can see and touch that scroll,” Uriel said. “Shortly after he got the parchment, the plague started.”

“We’re afraid it’s just the beginning,” Damian chimed in for the second time since the meeting had begun. “Much worse things can happen if this super-psychopath is let loose to do what he can do best.” He gave me a meaningful look.

“Which is…? Wreak havoc?” I suggested, filling the gap in his statement.

“She’s very quick, isn’t she?” Loki said, gifting me a radiant smile. “Good choice in picking such a smart cookie, bro.” He turned to Damian, but the angel ignored him. Durga glared at him, but Loki pretended he didn’t notice. Instead, he mused aloud. “Well, the situation wasn’t that bad, at least until humans got so fucked up. Where’s the fun? Where’s the thrill?” He was talking to himself but got silent when Durga threw him yet another dirty look so intense her upper lip quivered.

“You must break the Houstitz Castle’s defenses, spells, protective charms, or whatever and get the Scroll of Lies intact. Then bring it back to us,” Michael said, his strong baritone voice breaking the silence that had fallen after Durga warned Loki to shut up. “I’m afraid it won’t be an easy task.”

“But at least it’ll be fun,” Loki added, his eyes gleaming with mischief as red flames burned in his otherwise turquoise pupils, making him seem more alive than ever. “It’s good news. You won’t be bored to death like me, dear.”

“Yes, and I think Loki should accompany Aiyana to Houstitz Castle,” Michael offered, shooting a daring glance at the Norse god.

The latter beamed and agreed wholeheartedly. “Great idea. I approve. I haven’t gone to the human plane for centuries,” Loki agreed.

Durga’s stern face twisted in what looked like a half-sincere smile, and she said, “well, I guess, his presence will be an added bonus to your monetary reward.”

I pursed my lips, calculating the danger and potential outcome. If those powerful gods were confident I could pull it off, I’d better trust them to preserve my sanity. And yet, my unpreparedness gave me a bad taste in my mouth, my stomach clenching in fear.

“There’s a problem,” I said, speaking up unexpectedly. Enki darted his gaze at me, the others following suit. “I haven’t mastered my powers. Hell, I’ve been suppressing them my whole life. And now that you showed me that Drogo guy, I’m not sure my rusty magic could tackle him and his cronies.”

Durga exchanged glances with the archangels, and Michael said to me, “we can guide and teach you.”

Raphael turned to me. “You shouldn’t worry about that. Magic is always within you, even if you haven’t used it. It’s like a part of your body. It can’t be killed or reduced in power. It can be weakened, sure, but you’re young and energetic. You’ll do fine.” He grinned, and I forced a wan smile.

My mind pondered over their words, my thoughts drifting to what I knew and what they had said. “Only a Nephilim can kill another Nephilim.” I hoped they got that right.

“Let’s go and kick some Nephilim butt,” I said, pumping up my courage. My voice didn’t falter, but it wasn’t full of confidence either. I recalled I had no weapons, not even my enchanted knives. Damian had advised me not to take them since the Council had the best magical weapons.

I was about to ask them to lend me one or three of their enchanted weapons when Shiva’s bass voice boomed in the hall. “Oh, honey, you have to reach Houstitz Castle first.”

I squinted my eyes in confusion. What did he mean? Were there booby traps, spells, and maybe even monsters before the wretched castle?

Durga translated his words for me. “You have to pass the obstacles in the castle’s surrounding area before you can even enter its premises.”