Chapter 12

 

 

 

I lost consciousness for only a few seconds but regained it quickly. Blurry images flashed before my eyes, and I heard the guys call me by name.

“Aiyana, Aiyana! Are you all right?” Michael and Raphael rushed to me, the latter gripping my arms and pulling me toward his warm body. Half-consciously, I realized I had clutched to the sandstone while crawling on the ground. My fingers etched with pain from holding on so tightly to the earth and stone. I began wiping the gravel and sand I’d collected from my fingers.

“I…I…” I faltered as I lay my head on Raphael’s chest. I could feel his steady heart beating against my cheek. His magic unleashed, caressing my face, and the scent of strawberry-vanilla smoothie hit my nostrils, watering my mouth. The archangel’s magic felt like roaring ocean waves, bathed in the moonlight. My heartbeat slowed down, the fear wearing off. His touch felt so pleasant that unashamedly, I had to concede I wondered what it would feel like kissing him, but I quickly banished the thought. He was an archangel for heaven’s sakes! Probably he had a wife or a girlfriend. Prior to coming here, I was crushing on Damian, who was nowhere near me at that moment.

“What happened?” Michael stood over me and gave me a soft pat on my back. His hand sent a fiery tingle of magic, racing across my skin. I felt much better, so I let go of Raphael’s embrace and steadied myself. Did I make a fool of myself? I was the only woman around and couldn’t afford to behave like a weak damsel in distress.

“This happened because you messed with me,” Loki said, drawing closer to me, yet keeping a few feet distance away. His eyes were a shade darker turquoise. Apparently, his mood changed his eye color.

“Loki shut up for once! No one asked your opinion,” Michael growled, shooting him a dirty look. He turned back to me. “What happened, darling?”

I rubbed my temples and tried to gather my thoughts. “I think I saw the villain in our story.” I cracked a wry smile, patting my sheath where the knife and chakram nestled against my thigh. Their soft and steady magical vibrations helped my mind stay focused on something tangible and banish the memory of the dark Nephilim’s hideous face.

“You had a vision of Drogo?” Enki asked, his voice booming with wonder. “What did you see? Did he tell you something? Was he alone?” He fired his questions one after the other and I had put my thoughts in order to answer him.

Raphael shot Enki a reproachful look and turned to me. “Take your time. We need you to describe to us in detail what you saw. It might be important for our mission.”

“Yes, I know. I never thought to keep it secret.” I forced a chuckle and they flashed me wan smiles. Yet, Loki narrowed his eyes, squinting at me. Was he suspicious of me or still pissed off that I bossed him around? Regardless, I summoned my concentration and described to them what I saw. In the end, Enki made a comment with darkness seeping in his voice, “He’s calling you. He knows we’re coming, and he awaits us.”

Ominous silence fell over us, and no one dared say anything. Except Loki, of course.

“Great,” he said, his cheerful voice in stark contrast with the palpable vibe in the air. “Let’s get moving. We can’t disappoint the old devil, can we?” He laughed out loud and marched forward on the sloped path, plunging deeper into the dark forest.

***

We camped on a windy plateau at dusk. With the progression of fall, the sun was going down earlier with each passing day, which was at our disadvantage. We had to get up at dawn and walk faster. I silently cursed Drogo for the protective charms he’d used to pepper the castle’s surrounding area.

We sat before a brightly lit campfire in a circle and nurtured ourselves with delicious food and drinks. The archangels had summoned all the meals and drinks we gorged on—beef steaks, salad, rum and cokes for the guys, and a large-sized margarita pizza and ginger ale for me.

“I can’t believe you created all this just by snapping your fingers,” I mumbled as I swallowed a mouthful of cheese and fresh tomatoes. It was yummy!

Smug satisfaction spread on the archangels’ faces and they beamed in delight like first graders praised for their singing abilities at a school Christmas party. Enki and Loki didn’t seem amused, though. They said nothing, chewing on their meals. Loki had lit the fire pit, contributing to our rest. In his own words, he claimed to be ‘the son of fire’. He still didn’t converse much with me, but at least he’d stopped giving me dirty looks. One step at a time.

“Our magic comes in handy,” Raphael agreed as he took a sip of his rum.

“Unbelievable! Your magic is like the fae. You can create food, drinks, and the like, and what’s even better, you don’t trap people in Fairyland,” I praised their powers. I licked my lips as I finished the pizza and reached for the ginger ale bottle.

Michael chuckled. “More like the fae have a fraction of our powers,” he corrected me, giving me a wink.

Whatever. “It’s amazing. You should capitalize on the abilities you have, guys. You can create your own restaurant or bar and only use your magic. No orders, delivery issues, etc. Imagine how much you would profit from it. No, wait. Think how organic and cool your cuisine would be,” I said elatedly. Jeff, my former boss, had water elemental powers, and they were the reason why he established a pub, not a hairdresser studio or a yoga center.

Loki laughed out loud not even trying to hide the derisive overtones in his laughter. “You clearly don’t get how our system works, do you, ginger?”

I squinted my eyes and was about to fire a snarky reply at his rude persona when Raphael hastily intervened,

“We can’t financially profit from our magic. It’s against our Magic Codex. We’re here to serve and protect humanity and all magical beings,” he explained to me patiently, like a mother would to her child as to why people had to be good. “But your idea’s cool. I like it.” He flashed me a smile and resumed eating his steak.

“Damian told us you’ve worked as a bartender, right?” Michael asked me. He’d already finished his meal and now listened intently to the conversation.

I nodded and an idea dawned on me. We had time, and since the beginning, I have been dying to ask them my burning questions. “Er, I’d like to ask you guys something.”

“I’m taken. Enki doesn’t do dating, Loki can’t commit, but Raphael is single. In case you’re thinking whether to ask him out on a date,” Michael said, a broad smile dancing on his smug and handsome face. The fire flames danced in his eyes, illuminating his features and highlighting his strong jaw and mysterious eyes. Dang it, he looked even more beautiful in the dim-lit atmosphere than in broad daylight.

Raphael arched his brows but said nothing. Loki snorted and sipped from his drink. I hoped he’d choke on it.

“Oh, no, not that,” I hurriedly added and fought a rush of heat spreading on my cheeks. “How long have you fought Drogo and his cult? I hope you don’t mind my asking, but when did you establish the Council of Nine?”

The gleam in Michael’s eyes cooled, and his features hardened. His previous amused expression evaporated immediately, and he put on a straight face. He pondered a little and said, “We established our Council around three thousand years ago. Ever since, we’ve actively fought against the dark Nephilim.”

Wow! That was quite a lot of time. I glanced at the four guys gathered around the fire. Their faces looked young and full of energy. If I had to guess, I would say none of them were more than 30-some-odd years of age. Even that seemed a bit of a stretch.

“Drogo and his minions haven’t always been so aggressive and hell-bent on destroying the world, but several times, they have launched serious attempts at controlling the world. Their first attack was two thousand years ago. It was the first major attempt to achieve dominance and total control, but we thwarted their plans,” Enki said.

“Yes, but back in those times, life was different,” Michael said.

Two thousand years ago? That’d put the timeline back to when a special guy preached that the meek would inherit the earth. A sudden realization hit me.

“Are you talking about Christ? Were the Nephilim involved in his crucifixion?”

All four guys exchanged worried glances, even Loki dropped his half-serious, half-joking attitude. Instead, his serious eyes stared at me.

“Let’s just say the dark watchers have always used every crisis to further their agenda for world domination,” Raphael said tentatively.

“As the saying goes, ‘never let a good crisis go to waste,’” Enki added.

That was a pretty evasive reply, I thought. I wanted to ask them so many other questions as my mind literally buzzed with ideas, doubts, and worries about the Nephilim. But anticipating my budding curiosity, Michael cut off my asking.

“It’s getting late. The walking, climbing, and fight have exhausted us. Let’s go to sleep. We need fresh powers to recharge for tomorrow.”

“Yes, the swamp awaits us,” Loki agreed and made a grimace.

“The swamp?” I repeated, puzzled. Did he mean a literal swamp or…?

“It’s the last obstacle before we get to the Houstitz Castle,” Michael clarified. His fingers slid on the sparkling, polished surface of his golden shield. He’d laid it on the ground before the fire pit.

“Great. We’re advancing fast,” Enki chimed in. “Hopefully, tomorrow we’ll confront Drogo and his cronies.”

“Good, the sooner the better,” I said as I stood up. The archangels had summoned a couple of blankets to cuddle with and yoga mats to sleep on over the night. I figured I could summon items, too, though I might need more time. I wasn’t even aware if I could tap on the ley lines yet or not. Which reminded me I had to check to see if they were off limits for me.

“Don’t be so eager, ginger.” Loki turned to me. “The phantoms are challenging. And they aren’t just ordinary phantoms, you know. And the last obstacle—” He couldn’t finish because Raphael cut him off. Anger oozed in his voice as he scolded him,

“You idiot! Don’t bring in the castle now. We’ll discuss it when we reach the castle’s gardens.” He turned to me, his voice softer, caressing my ears. “Don’t listen to him. We’ll be there for you and take care of the phantoms,” he reassured me.

“I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. I’m not a weakling.”

Loki chuckled at my response and gifted me his branded mischievous look of curled lips in a wicked grin, highlighted by a devilish gleam in his eyes. I grew to detest his stares. My insides twisted whenever he spoke to me.

“I never thought you were one; otherwise, we wouldn’t have hired you to help us,” Raphael said, his tone slightly indignant. “It’s just that you…your powers are still not, uh, strong.” He was picking his words carefully as if trying not to accidentally offend me. I waved at him, giving him a signal to stop elaborating further on the topic.

I didn’t want to know more about the creatures we were about to face. I’d never personally encountered a phantom, let alone fought one, but from my academy classes, I knew they were ghost-like creatures. There were subdivisions of them: one type fed off fear and horror while others sucked a person’s living force and soul, turning him into another phantom. The latter were the scariest and most dangerous of their kind.

I was about to lie down but decided at the last minute to make a quick walk around the fire pit. We had let the fire burn down. The space was dark. The contours of the encasing mountaintops surrounded us, pulling us into a tight embrace. I fidgeted around, inhaling the clean but cold air when Raphael’s deep voice startled me.

I nearly jumped when he spoke to me. “Can’t fall asleep, can you?” He drew nearer to me, and I heaved a sigh as I saw his muscular body join me in the open.

“Yeah, maybe it’s stage fright.” I chuckled nervously. “But I wanted to try and check if I could tap on the ley lines, too. Remember our convo back in the clearing?”

“Ah, that one? Yes, I do.” He glanced around and said, “Maybe it’s not the best time, but I’m here, so you can try.”

I relaxed my body and mind, summoning my magic. It came stronger than the previous times I had called it. It still felt strange, but there was a touch of familiarity. My powers seeped out of my thread, encircling my body, and came sizzling to my fingertips. The vague taste of brimstone lingered at the back of my throat, like Michael’s magic, I realized. Next, I reached, pushing my magic toward the ley lines that ran under my feet. Their pattern was uneven. They often zig-zagged in higher places like mountains. The ley lines’ power hummed and infused strength into my fingertips like a magnet pulled metal objects. The magic inside me intensified and sang an ancient song of lost battles and fairy beings. I decided to create a fireball. Flames burst out of my fingertips, and a mid-sized fireball formed, hovering over my open palm. The flames sent a wave of heat across my skin, but a pleasant one.

“It works. I think I can use the ley line magic to my advantage,” I said gleefully and snuffed out the fireball. The flames extinguished, and only a circle of smoke dispersed around us. I was glad Drogo hadn’t blocked or put a spell on the ley lines. At least I could tap on them and use their magic.

A broad smile danced on Raphael’s lips. “Good, it’d be useful to us.”

I hesitated before I asked him, “Do you think I can pull it off? I mean, this mission, the scroll, and everything else.” The way he talked about my magic and powers earlier during dinner made me uneasy. A foreboding feeling gnawed at me: he was treating me as if I were significantly less powerful than them.

Raphael pursed his lips and shook his head. “No need to worry, you’re doing fine. You had to hide your powers and magic your whole life. I understand it. It’s just that…” he faltered, considering whether or not to tell me something. He heaved a sigh and spat it out, “It’s just that you still haven’t been able to use your full Nephilim magic.”

I was taken aback. “I haven’t?”

He nodded and added, “your wings.”

“My wings?” Was he high or drunk? Did he drink too much rum? “What wings? I have no wings,” I snapped back.

“Exactly,” he added ruefully. “When you unleash all your Nephilim magic, a set of glowing white wings will come out of your back, growing from your shoulders.”

I blinked stupidly and cleared my throat. “How do you know that? Have you seen other Nephilim?”

“Of course. How else do you think we’ve fought against Drogo and his cronies?”

“But you don’t have your wings out either,” I pointed out.

“It’s different. Our wings appear whenever we need our magic and summon it, but you don’t seem to be able to tap on all your power.”

“How am I supposed to do that? You guys haven’t taught me anything. Besides, you don’t have your halo, unlike in Eden Hall.”

A sly smile spread on his lips. “Don’t compare Eden Hall to this area. Eden Hall has all our potential unleashed.”

I frowned and pondered the information he’d shared with me. His earlier reply about Nephilim stirred my thoughts back to the fire pit conversation we had before the others had lain down to sleep. As the conversation was going relatively well, and I had his attention, I decided to test the waters for more information. “Umm, can I ask you something I’ve been wondering?” I didn’t wait for his confirmation but fired off my next question instead. “What happened with the other white Nephilim? Are they still alive?” According to Durga, I was the only white Nephilim they could work with to thwart Drogo’s sinister plans.

“They’re gone.” He pursed his lips as if responding to a painful memory and added, “it’s a long story, but those Nephilim were brave souls. We owe them the benefit that we can have this conversation and fight against the dark watchers.”

My father! Was he one of them? My heart beat with yearning. My mind raced toward the fuzzy image I had of him. I had imagined he was tall and dark-haired, with the same hazel eyes as me and a fit, muscular body.

“Did you…” the question died on my lips.

His eyebrows crept up, prompting me to finish my question.

“Er, did you know my father?” The words barely escaped my mouth when the sleeping body of Loki moved, he twitched his legs and called out to us, grunting,

“Shh! You two keep quiet. I wanna sleep.”

I suppressed a chuckle, and Raphael whispered to me, “Come on. Let’s get some sleep.” He pulled at my sleeve, and I complied.

I lay down on the yoga mat, tugging the thick blanket over my face, up to my mouth. Before I fell asleep, Raphael whispered to me, “Your father was a brave man. You must be proud of him.”

My heartbeat froze for a second, and then a wave of joy spread through my veins. I wanted to ask Raphael so many questions, but I’d wait for that. My father had helped the Council of Nine in the path against the abominable Nephilim. With that comforting thought, my heartbeat slowed down, and I closed my eyes. Sleep came over me immediately.

We rose early in the morning, had a quick breakfast, which the archangels again created with the snap of their fingertips, and started climbing to the top of the mountain. It took us a few hours to reach it. From there, I could see the castle with an eagle’s eye. It loomed eerily above the lowlands, a long stone fence encircled it, winding up like a snake. I took a look around me and shivered at the sight of the thick, dark clouds hovering above our heads. Dread curled in my stomach. I could distinctly feel an invisible, gray cloud encasing the castle like a giant bubble, building some sort of a barrier against adversarial forces. But then something sinister and ancient as time sang inside my blood, making my heart pound like crazy. Was it the Scroll of Lies’ magic? Or perhaps the energy of the bottomless pit where the Council of Nine suspected the scroll was kept hidden? My heart raced as it dawned on me maybe it was Drogo’s magic. I shook my head, trying to banish the thought. Time would tell. I steadied myself, my hand gripping my sheath more tightly. The enchanted weapons vibrated against my skin, boosting my courage, and soon enough, my mood lightened.

“Are you all right?” Raphael asked me, watching me intently. Throughout the journey, we’d grown closer. I enjoyed his company and, judging from his friendly behavior and the fact he conversed with me the most from the group, I’d bet he liked my company, too. If I pulled the mission off, maybe we could meet up once it was over. A Nephilim together with an archangel? The thought alone sounded crazier than the tin-foiled-hat conspiracy theorists. I could see the rest of the supernatural community go insane if that scenario came true.

“I’m fine.” I looked at Raphael, his big, blue eyes gleaming with warmth and love. Inspired by the strength radiating from him, I conceded, “I calculated the possible danger down there. In the castle, I mean.”

He nodded, his brows furrowed. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He patted me on the shoulder, his touch sending a buzzing heat down my body. Okay, maybe I had a little crush on him. I shook my head. I’d been single for so long I’d probably fall for any attractive guy who gave me some attention. And was he attractive!

We climbed down, and thank the fates, it took less time and physical effort than going up. Sometime in the late afternoon, we reached the lowland. From first sight, a large swamp lay ahead of us. Hell, it smelled like one for sure. The odor of stagnant water, mud, and reeds assaulted my nostrils. The atmosphere and vibe felt different, too: stranger magic hung in the air, penetrating the whole area. Mist shrouded the swamp like a veil. An eerie energy flooded my blood, giving my heart a jump. The sickening feeling flushed my mouth while curling my stomach as we moved deeper into the swamp.

“Walk along the edge. Try not to fall into the swamp,” Michael commanded. A gust of cold wind blew into my face as if trying to dissuade me from advancing, but I pushed forward, clenching my teeth as I tried my best to follow the archangel’s advice.

“That sick bastard,” Raphael groaned through bared teeth. “I hope you slay him.” He turned to me. I squeezed his hand. My fingers intertwined with his, and I tried to calm him. We got moving, advancing down the narrow, slippery path one by one since only one person could walk along it.

As I followed, my left foot stepped into a sinking hole up to my calf. I lost my balance, turning unsteadily, and in making an attempt to regain my balance, my legs crashed against the frozen waters. So much for not making a fool out of myself.

“Are you all right?” Raphael asked and stretched out his hand to pull me out of the swamp.

Pain shot up my body from the drenching in the freezing cold waters. Dirt and insects got stuck on my clothes and face. Eww, once the mission was over, I planned to take a very long, hot shower. I consoled myself that at least my clothes and shoes weren’t expensive: the dirt and water would totally ruin anything I wore. I took Raphael’s hand and got up.

After a quick glance, I saw the others’ progression along the swamp was more confidently successful than mine. I needed to brace myself. Mentally, I pulled up my big-girl panties and continued forward. The more we progressed deeper into the swamp, the more the mist increased, and I couldn’t see anything beyond a couple of feet. It wasn’t an ordinary, thick fog, though. It was the kind that accompanied ghosts. I put my hand on the utility vest, ready to take out my newly acquired weapons in case of a surprise assault.

“Do you guys feel it?” I asked the others.

“The sense of extreme foreboding and that we should turn around and leave the place?” Enki asked somewhere ahead of me. I couldn’t even see the outline of his body. When I confirmed, he said, “yes, we feel it. Over our ill-fated attempts to steal the Scroll of Lies, fog shrouded the swamp, too. The same negative sense pervaded, lingering around.”

“We’re very close to Drogo’s land. That’s why. Once we get out of the swamp, the castle’s gardens are next. We’re getting close,” Michael said to me, giving me encouragement to get the hell outta there as fast as possible.

I sped up, concentrating on my footing through the narrow path, trying not to slip into the muddy waters. I’d have been a total idiot if it happened again. The trees that grew inside the swamp loomed over us, their unnaturally long branches and crowns intersecting above our heads, building something like a thorny blanket. Frogs croaked in the distance in uneven intervals, their sounds further unnerving me.

“The phantoms lurking around aren’t ordinary, so be careful,” Raphael advised me, concern ringing in his voice. He was walking before me, and I could see only his back. Well, also his butt. “Some are vampire phantoms…others demon phantoms.”

“A piece of advice. Don’t try to fight them. Their bodies are ethereal,” Michael chimed in. “That means the more you fight them, the more they’ll suck the life force out of you.”

“Then how can we get past the swamp if we don’t fight the phantoms?” I asked in confusion. A brilliant, dark orange sun hovered over the horizon, casting its glow on the surrounding hills and fields. Great, we’d have to fight in the dark soon if the phantoms attacked us. Which was most likely.

“Loki and I will take care of them,” Michael’s voice sounded from somewhere ahead. Loki grunted out in discontent.

“Just keep walking ahead, don’t turn around to look or even stop. If they get their claws on you, you’ll be in trouble,” Raphael said.

I nodded. The scent and feel of the magic imbibing the area intensified. It came to my senses, hissing, which was downright weird. It smelled of rotten food and caused my nose to wrinkle in disgust.

“Drogo has left an imprint of his dark magic over the swamps,” Raphael said in response to my thoughts.

Did he just read my mind? I wondered. The wind blew colder, and my body shivered from the chills, tingling right down my spine. My instincts screamed to leave the place, but I’d signed a contract with the most powerful white supernaturals. Besides, I needed the money. Yet my biggest benefit would be if the Council of Nine talked to the Magic Council about my kind. It’d be the best payment I could hope for in that I would get to live my life like the other supernaturals, not being afraid of using my peculiar magic in public places. I gritted my teeth, my fingers clutching the knife so tightly that my knuckles hurt.

Soon the soil turned into muddy waters that reached the height of our shoes. We waded cautiously through the swamp for a while when an abrupt noise cut across the silent area. Something rustled around a big willow tree near me. The orange flame of the setting sun glinted off the dark waters, which surprisingly, had become more clear and clean.

“I can feel it. They’re coming,” Michael warned us. Soon enough, a ghostly form sprang into view and floated toward us. It had been hiding behind a nearby tree, preying on us.

A sense of misery hit my center, overwhelming me with darkness. Heaviness rose in my chest, and I could hear the phantom hiss at me, “Nephilim.”

“Do not listen to them. They use your darkest secrets and fears to trap you in a state of a mental prison. If you give in to their tricks, they’ll catch you physically and devour your soul,” Michael said.

“Lovely,” I commented when my left foot again stepped on something slippery, this time inside the waters. I lost my footing and stumbled. I slipped but quickly regained my balance. But when I tried to move ahead, my foot was entangled in something like a plant or tree roots. A new formless ghostly figure stormed at us. I tried to move, but the plant had caught me in its suffocating embrace. It just wouldn’t let me move away. I gathered all my magic, which still felt strange to me, and I blasted the water below my feet. An explosion burst, rippling the waters around the spot where I stood. I stepped away from the trap I had been caught in and started to wade ahead. I suppressed the desire to look behind me, but something rustled again, this time closer.

Another phantom, this one bigger and in funny clothes and an old-fashioned hat, hovered above me. Its incorporeal hands stretched out to touch me. I pushed forward, trying to take bigger steps, but it was hard with so much mud around me. Searing pain hit my body, sending a wave of terror through my chest. The phantom had grabbed me by the arm. Its face twisted in a spooky grimace. I hurled a magical blast at him, but he didn’t even back up like any decent monster would do. His frosty claws were clutching my arm tightly. The sense of dread, coldness, and horror intensified, chilling my blood, and a sinister feeling overrode my senses.

“Aiyana, don’t move,” Michael shouted at me. He’d summoned his flaming sword and ran toward me, his feet splashing mud and dirt in the swamp. He jumped, his body and glowing red shield crashing into the phantom. He raised his sword and with one swift movement, severed the phantom’s arms. The air cracked with a shimmering gray light, and dark glowing particles showered on us. More phantoms flew at us, closing in. Another phantom lurched toward me, his chalk-like, freezing fingers groped my breasts. That one was a pervert, besides being a monster. Anger boiled inside me, and for the second time, I disobeyed the earlier advice Raphael had given me to not fight the phantoms. I had no choice. I had to get rid of him. I concentrated hard, unleashing more of my magic and blasting the formless creature, which had the audacity to touch me inappropriately. Again, he didn’t even flinch at my magic, his hand tightened its grip on me, his fingers running down my waist toward my ass. Gross! Michael intervened again, lashing his fiery sword at the phantom. The blow severed his head, and again, teeny tiny magical particles dispersed in the space, falling down into the muddy waters.

Loki, who stood a little aside, charged at the phantoms who’d trapped me, and I nearly choked when I saw a flaming crossbow in his hands. He aimed at a repulsive phantom and shot. A flaming arrow sunk into the phantom’s head, disembodying it.

“We warned you not to use your magic.” Michael turned angrily to me. “Do you want them to suck your soul and turn you into a phantom, imprisoned here forever?”

No. I didn’t desire to be a phantom, cursed to haunt this swamp for eternity. I remained silent, since he had made such a good point. Dark flames glowed in his eyes, giving me a sign he was furious at me for disobeying his advice.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I got carried away,” I muttered, but more phantoms lunged at us, aiming to catch a hold of me. Enki and Raphael were somewhere ahead, down the swamp.

“Run away!” Michael ordered. “Loki and I will deal with the phantoms. Catch up with the guys and stay with them. Can you remember this?” He asked me as if I was an idiot. I stifled a grunt. I got it. I’d gone against his advice, which he had so generously provided me.

I sped up, splashing the water. I reached Enki and Raphael who moved with high speed. The swamp spread across the whole horizon, so I began to worry if we could get to the other side before night. The remaining light was dim. The twilight wouldn’t last much longer, and then the night would cloak the area until dawn. Considering the distance and the gloomy light, I couldn’t see how Loki and Michael were doing against the phantoms. Occasionally, I would hear cracking blasts and the shooting of arrows and fire at the phantoms, but the more I moved away from them, the duller the sounds became.

“You’re very fast,” I said, panting when I had caught up with Enki and Raphael.

“It’s a long way until the other side,” Raphael said. “If only we could fly…” He let out a deep sigh. The air around his shoulders shimmered as his wings flashed for a second, sparkling in the space but they disappeared as quickly as they appeared, and he resumed slogging through the swamp.

Enki who was a few feet ahead of us abruptly turned, his face lit up by an idea. “I have a suggestion, guys. Maybe with your magic,” he turned to me, his voice eager, hope oozing from it, “and combined with our powers, we could fly over this shitty swamp?”

His statement made some sense, but I was a guest. The gods and archangels knew the surroundings far better than I did. I glanced expectantly at Raphael.

His face darkened, a scowl creasing his brow. “We ought to walk fast and get to the other side ASAP. We’ve got no time to waste trying new things. You know…” He turned to Enki. “Our flight powers don’t kick in here.”

“Let’s give it a try. The distance is great, and we’ll have to walk for several hours,” objected Enki. “Her magic is like Drogo’s. She’s special. Maybe with her magic added, we can pull it off. At least we should give it a go.”

Raphael sighed in resignation and agreed with a grunt.

“Aiyana, direct your magic at Raphael, unleashing it. Try to break the anti-flight spell.” Enki gave me an order, and I nodded curtly.

Raphael concentrated, closing his eyes. His aura changed. A multitude of shimmering vibrations in purple-blue colors engulfed him. I connected with the dormant magic in my center. It came fluttering to me like a butterfly. I reached for any ley line to tap on it, but the swamp was devoid of them. I silently grunted but dug deeper and unleashed my magic, releasing it in the open air. I scanned the space for any spells, but nothing appeared. In the meantime, Raphael’s wings had come up, popping up from his back and shoulders. They were massive and heavy, glowing in a snow-white color with a little pink gleam on the edges. He flapped his wings and lifted off the ground a few inches. For a moment, I had hope he’d be able to float and fly, but suddenly, he crashed with a thud. His body fell into the muddy waters of the swamp, splashing us.

“What an epic failure,” Enki commented as he wiped off dirt from his cheek.

“Now satisfied?” Raphael snapped at him, standing up from the mud. His clothes were ruined, dirty, and stinking of the waters.

“Let’s get moving, guys. Michael and Loki won’t like us delaying—” I couldn’t finish because in that moment, something touched my right leg, sending a freezing tingle up to my thigh. I turned around and faced another phantom creature. It was larger and glowed in a silvery-blue, transparent light. He stretched out his arms toward me, and I ran away, jumping into the muddy waters. Enki and Raphael joined my run. I was surprised they didn’t fight the phantoms as Michael and Loki had done.

“I thought you’d blast them,” I said, panting, to Raphael. We kept running at high speed as the phantom floated above us, trying to grab a part of our bodies and hold us captive in his deadly embrace like some sort of ethereal vampire. Gross.

“My magic element isn’t fire, only Michael can put up a good fight against them.”

“Loki, too. He’s the God of Fire, besides being a trickster, you know.” Enki added with a wink.

The phantom flew dangerously close above our heads and landed a foot before us. I ducked below his attack, but he went for Enki, who froze in place as the phantom touched his leg.

“Can’t we summon a protective barrier?” I asked Raphael, concern rising in my chest as the phantom’s grip on Enki tightened. The god’s face had turned a shade colder, icy-blue frost emitting from his aura.

“It’s pointless, barriers don’t work on phantoms. They’re insentient beings with incorporeal bodies.” He panted and added, “Enki’s a tough guy. He has unlimited, resilient magic. He can tolerate their dark magic much longer than any of us.” He turned around, looking for something or someone. “I’ll mentally call Michael. They need to come and kill this bloody bastard.” Unadulterated anger rang out in his voice, and he concentrated hard.

It all lasted for only a few seconds, but soon Michael came to us, running. He carried his shield raised high above his head, his sword glowing in burning red flames. But the most striking feature was his fiery-glowing wings. They shimmered in orange flames on the edges but were interlaced with white in the center. It was quite an image to behold, and I shivered as goosebumps prickled my skin. Before Michael could swing, charging with his sword, three more phantoms flew above our heads, crashing into the dirty waters just inches from us. One reached for me, the other two at the archangels, but I dodged the monster’s attack. Michael cut the arms off the phantom next to him, then stabbed his heart. Holy magic, Michael’s sword moved like a lightning bolt. Then he cut down the other two phantoms nearest to him. The creature let out a weak scream as its ghostly form twinkled in the space and disintegrated. Those phantoms were different than the previous ones. I was about to ask Michael what subtype they were when one of the remaining ones grabbed my arm, wrapping its ethereal body around my waist. Searing pain ran across my skin as the feeling of ice burning flesh overwhelmed my body and mind. My vision went blurry, and I tried to pull out of the phantom’s hold and keep pounding through the muddy waters. Its grip didn’t subside. It only grew, sending another excruciating pain down my spine. It was too much to endure, and I shrieked. My feet went weak, and I swayed, about to collapse any moment. In a haze, I saw Michael strike the phantom, his flaming sword severing the ghastly head from the phantom. The monster cried and turned to silver gray ashes, which the wind scattered around.

When the phantom’s magical grip disappeared, I took a breath of fresh air, my energy rejuvenating. Enki and Raphael were free of the phantoms’ clutches, too, so we continued through the swamp.

We walked for several long hours in relative silence. Night had fallen. Michael summoned more fire into his sword and shield, and they resembled flaming torches, casting light in the dark, swampy area. The chill of the air grew colder, and I had to draw heat from the center of my thread to keep myself warm. We didn’t camp nor even sleep but just kept walking in the muddy waters. In the wee hours, the swamp gradually dried out, diminishing until we eventually stepped onto solid soil. The magic also changed, becoming stronger and thicker than before. The hexed forest seemed like a dream compared to the vibrations we felt. Rage and poison seethed in the air, wrapping around my energetic body, hissing at my own magic and trying to break my defenses. I didn’t get weird vibes anymore; no, they were downright sinister vibes. It was as if a dark cloud hung over the area like a storm about to erupt. Shivers ran across my body and I bucked up, calling my magical defenses, casting a protective spell over me.

“We’re about to enter Houstitz Castle’s gardens,” Michael announced, walking slightly ahead of us. Though unspoken, he’d assumed the role of the group leader. With his flaming sword and fiery shield, he imposed respect and awe.

“I say we have that talk with the girl,” Enki said, slowing his pace. He gave the archangels a stare, and they conceded,

“Yes, you’re right,” Michael agreed. “She needs to know how magic functions here before we enter the gardens. Maybe the dragon and gryphon will attack us right off the bat.”

“I’m more concerned she hasn’t fully come into possession of all her Nephilim powers,” Raphael chimed in. I recalled the conversation we’d had the other night and the lack of my wings when I called my magic. I frowned. “Her magic still feels hidden to me. She hasn’t even spread her wings.” He shot me a glance, concern and doubt written on his handsome face. He doubted that I could succeed? Indignation burned in my chest. No one underestimates me. I was about to snap at him, but Michael raised his hand, forestalling my snarky reply.

“We’re all exhausted. Let’s have this talk quickly. We need to recharge our magic batteries, too, if we want to stand a chance against Drogo and his cronies.”

The space around us lightened as the sun headed for the horizon. Happy butterflies fluttered in my chest because it was always better to have the final battle during daylight than in the night.

“So, here’s the plan.” Michael turned to me. “First comes a ten-foot-high, stone fence and then the gardens. Drogo is from the nobility. His mother was a descendant of the House of Seidel.”

“Ahem, that’s how the bastard got his title of duke…and this castle,” Loki commented, venom seeping in his voice. His turquoise eyes gleamed darker, and I shivered, sensing the vibe I got from him. He hated Drogo and his pals with strong passion.

“Listen, Aiyana, this is crucial.” Raphael turned to me, his eyes pleading for me to remember his words. “You have to let go all of your inhibitions and fears. Don’t hold onto them, or they’ll ruin you. Instead, embrace your Nephilim powers. You don’t stand a chance against Drogo if you’re stuck in your magical comfort zone.”

“He’s right,” Enki chimed in. “Push the envelope and let the magic inside you dictate your actions.” He flashed me a forced smile.

Their pep talk got me all worried, and I twitched, my fingers fondling my vest. “You do realize I’ve never met another Nephilim in my life, right?” I asked them finally.

“It’s all right, girl.” Raphael came nearer to me, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, drawing me into his embrace. His warm touch soothed my nerves, temporarily dispelling my worries. “Just follow your natural instincts—the ancient beat of your magic—and everything will be all right.” He tidied a lock of hair behind my ear, and Loki cleared his throat.

“Do you two need privacy?”

“No, we’re done,” I said abruptly and let go of the archangel’s touch.

“Right, so here’s the plan,” Michael began. “We’ll tackle the dragon that guards the gardens, and you, Aiyana, in that time, will enter the castle. We’ve only made it up to the castle’s main hall. Drogo’s legion of Nephilim has defeated us there every time. You, however, will get past them. And then you have to get to the Scroll of Lies. We don’t really know where Drogo keeps it. Our informer told us there’s a magical gate that opens by touch, leading to a corridor and a giant hole. There, the bottomless pit lies. But it’s all rumors. We haven’t checked it ourselves.”

I hesitated for a second before I asked my question, “Who’s your informer? You keep dropping hints about such a person, even back at Eden Hall. But you never called his name. Do I know him?”

“You sure do.” A sinister smile cracked Loki’s face, and he added, “Damian told us about a fight you had before he met you.”

The realization who he was talking about hit me like a train—that arrogant guy from McManus’! The ancient vampire. The one who I beat. After that event, Damian caught wind of my existence and came to visit me. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

“Jason?” I asked incredulously. “He’s your informer?” A bad taste formed in my mouth, remembering his ogling me and his forceful attempt at seduction, resulting in me having him sprawled on the floor. Bile formed at the back of my throat.

“Hmm, did he go by that name?” Loki asked but quickly added, “His real name is Augustine.”

“Whatever. That piece of shit tried to force himself on me, and you say he’s your informer?”

“I know it doesn’t look good,” Michael began, but I cut him off.

“Not good? Are you serious? It’s insane. That guy’s a negatively oriented supernatural.”

“Yes, he is, but he’s made his choice. Funnily enough, the things Drogo and his cult stand for are against Augustine’s interests, too,” Loki said, a strange energy vibrating in his voice, one I hadn’t heard before. It felt like he was talking from his heart; was he saying Augustine was like him?

“It’s true. He’s a dark supernatural, but not all of them agree to the shit these Nephilim do. Augustine’s our ally. End of story,” Enki cut in.

Okay, if the big boys said so. “Will he be in the castle? Am I going to see him?” I asked Michael, concern welling in my chest. I doubt he’d like to see me, either, given how I beat him the last time.

“No, don’t worry. He won’t be in the castle. He lives in another place. They only invite him when they perform high rituals—that is, dark rituals.”

A beam of rays illuminated the horizon, and the golden sun lazily floated higher into the sky. The area came to life as green lowlands awakened, bathed in the sunlight. Only the occasional bush here and there would pop up. But what made me hold my breath was the looming massive wall made of dark gray stone. I’d estimate it to ten feet in height.

Enki turned to me, his emerald eyes gleaming stronger than ever with their unnatural color. They almost looked serpentine. “Ready?”

I nodded, and Michael said, “Good luck, love. Stick to the plan and beat the crap out of Drogo.” With those words, he concentrated, and his wings fluttered, popping out, sparkling in fiery colors; his glowing sword turned into a bundle of flaming light beams. He slashed the sword, and the flaming beams clashed against the stones, scorching them. The air charged with electricity. The scent of brimstone combined with buzzing heat permeated the area. The stone wall began burning like charcoal, and the stones blackened and melted. Soon, there was a big enough hole for us to pass through. Michael was first. Then Enki and Loki went through it.

We had negotiated they’d be first so the castle’s guardian dragon would spot them first, and then they’d distract it so I could enter the building. Raphael made a slight motion with his hand, prompting me to step in front of him. I bent to pass through the gaping hole, and he whispered in my ear, his breath hot and tempting. My mind went to places, but I quickly snapped shut those thoughts.

“We’re counting on you, Aiyana. The world counts on you. You’ll do it.”