Chapter 15

 

 

 

The gryphon’s massive legs pounded on the floor as he ran toward me, his beak open. Right before he could flare a blazing flame, I summoned a protective barrier. I had no time to take out my weapons, so I had to act immediately. His magic hit the barrier, ricocheting. It charged the wall behind me, and an explosion erupted. Stones and wood showered upon us, falling with a clatter.

Gryphon Drogo flapped his massive wings and took off with a screeching sound. As he flew close to the ceiling, I dug again for my powers. They bubbled inside my center and their push and pull overwhelmed my senses and mind, wanting to be released. The same warm, tickling sensation spread down my skin, and the set of white wings appeared on my shoulders. I’d been repressing my magic for so long, I needed time and solid training in order to harness my newly found powers. Nonetheless, I unleashed a new blast, hurling it at the gryphon’s head. It hit him square between his eyes. The beast let out a painful cry but didn’t slow down his flight. Instead, with increased force, he flared a new dart of flaming fire at me. My barrier thundered against the ferociousness of Drogo’s attack, but the transparent wall vibrated, absorbing his magic. The air got painted in dark-purple and black colors, and then the shimmering hue of my barrier reemerged.

Yet, Drogo’s evil magical signature seeped into the protective wall and stuck to my skin, penetrating deep within my core. Raw negative emotions swirled in my head, making me dizzy. The smell and feel of dead bodies poured into my blood, and for a second, I thought, I’d pass out. But a miracle happened. My own magic jump-started, probably fueled by his. Gryphon Drogo let out a screech, disappointed his blow hadn’t broken me. He breathed a new wave of scorching flames, and the barrier shook under his sizzling attack. The space thundered, magic, scents, and colors vibrating, infusing the space with their distinctive powers.

The center in my thread tugged at me, and a glowing crimson hue cloaked my wings. Unbelievably, but true, his dark Nephilim magic fueled my own forgotten and long repressed one. His blasts functioned as a catalyst. I recharged my magic from the boost. Its powers sizzled and hissed in my thread and on my fingertips. Its song hummed in my ears, but the tune was of victory. I smiled as I let the magic encase my entire being, the humming and buzzing in my ears growing louder. The barrier shimmered as the magic seeped into it, spreading throughout its diaphanous form.

The gryphon must have sensed something because as he was flying above my head, ready to toss another flame at me, he stopped in midair. His eyes squinted, suspicion brewing in them. I hurled all the magic I could draw from my core at him. The pull and feel of it threatened to suffocate me if I didn’t release it. A gigantic ball the size of a werewolf burst forth from me, flying like a tornado at gryphon Drogo. The air ignited in purple-orange flames that flew at the monster.

He blinked with his crimson eyes and screeched as the blast swept him away, sending him reeling backward. He flapped his wings, trying desperately to gain balance, but the explosion’s momentum made it impossible to fight against it. The gryphon’s body slammed against the wall. A loud thunder echoed, and the ground beneath our feet shuddered and shattered. A series of loud cracks followed, and the floor broke in two, exposing a large, gaping hole. The ceiling crumbled down, and bricks, wood, and metal splintered, raining down.

The gryphon shrieked in pain as a large chunk of the ceiling pinned his head against the floor. The sound of his howling made my blood freeze in horror. Was he severely injured? If my blast could kill him, I’d consider my duty fulfilled. Hell, no. I have to procure the Scroll of Lies. More particles, dust, stones, and wood rained down, the whole space crumbling under the weight of the explosion. I held tighter to my protective barrier, hoping no element or magic could break it. A shower of scents, smells, and building elements fell to the floor. The ground beneath my feet cracked further, breaking into hundreds of pieces. The space darkened as dust, debris, and the scent of burning steel cloaked the air. Something heavy hit my barrier and pain exploded in my back, searing my flesh. I gasped, trying to steady myself, but my feet tumbled, the world going black.

***

The scent of burning wood, dust, and rubbish hit my nostrils, making me cough, gasping for fresh air. I slowly regained consciousness, the memory of where and how I ended up in my situation flooded my mind. I recalled the gryphon Drogo and the room we were in, which had crumbled to the ground. Speaking of Drogo, thank the fates, I couldn’t sense his magic nor his signature around me.

I rubbed my temples, opening my eyes. It was dark, and my face was sticky with debris and dirt. I tried to move, but something heavy pulled my limbs down. I looked down and saw a large metal beam on top of my legs, pinning me in place. My arms were free, though, thank magic. I called my powers and aiming it at the upper part of the chunk, blasted it. I didn’t release too much of my magic, since I had no desire to blow my legs to smithereens. The metal chunk exploded in two and smoke engulfed the air. I closed my eyes, holding my breath for several long seconds. When my eyes stopped stinging, I opened them. The big chunk was destroyed, and my body was free. I jumped to my feet, standing upright, relieved I could move and walk freely.

I cast a flaming ball in my hand to illuminate the darkness. The energy and vibrations of the space felt familiar, but I didn’t want to speculate. I searched for Drogo, but neither his human appearance, nor in his gryphon form could be seen. I heaved a sigh and focused on the room. The flickering flames ran on the walls and floor and revealed a space that had survived a bomb attack. The walls gaped half-broken, bricks sticking out between holes; wood and other debris were scattered across the floor, and a large hole the size of a dining table gaped in the middle of the room. I recognized it was the dining hall with the banquet table, where an inverted pentagram teleported me to Drogo’s vault chamber. Yet now, it was unrecognizable. Everything lay in utter ruin, and the table was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a pile of dirt and rubbish had claimed its spot. The portraits had fallen from the walls and lay in the collective pile of rubbish that covered the entire dining room.

Turiel’s portrait! I recalled Drogo’s words and hurried to dig for that painting. That bastard had found a good hiding place for the scroll. It should have been relatively easy to retrieve it, but there were a lot of paintings in the hall. Still, I was convinced he kept the scroll in one of his chamber vaults. The Council of Nine believed so, too. I was acquainted with Turiel: we had studied the different fallen angels back at the academy, and given I was a Nephilim, too, I took special interest in them. Turiel was blond with blue eyes, dark-gray wings, and a few days’ stubble. I would recognize his portrait if I saw it.

I dug several paintings from the ruins, but they were of different fallen angels. One looked eerily similar to the image Drogo projected of my father. Had he really converted and joined Drogo’s cult of dark Nephilim? I pushed all thoughts about my father to the side and instead focused on the present situation. Where the hell was Drogo? And how had I found myself back at the starting point? So many questions swirled in my mind, but only the eerie silence pervaded.

An idea formed in my mind. Maybe the inverted pentagram worked as a portal and when I hurled that blast at Drogo, I activated the portal, taking me back to where I came from? I shook my head. I had to hurry up. There wasn’t time for speculations. There was only one thing left for me to accomplish and that was to find the Scroll of Lies, take it, and teleport back home. My fingers caressed my pocket where I’d put the teleportation charm. The others had probably left long ago and were back at Eden Hall. But why didn’t they connect mentally with me? Protective spells and charms? My heart shrank as I recalled how much they relied on me to hand them the evil scripture. I had to justify their trust. Besides, I couldn’t imagine spending any more time here than I had to. The vibrations were killing me. My whole body was sweating like a buffalo on a hot summer day. Vicious waves rose in my chest, and I was fighting against a bile that had formed in my throat.

I looked around harder, trying to find the portrait of Turiel, but the mess and ruins made it nearly impossible. Raphael’s words echoed for the second time. “Embrace your Nephilim powers.” I connected to the thread in my center, calling out all my magic. A wave of warmth spread through my body. The strength of a raging tornado buzzed under my fingers. I gave the magic the command to find the Scroll of Lies. Simple and clear. The thread in my center heated, and an invisible link shimmered in the wall across from me.

I went to it and laid my hand on the rough wall. The place looked empty. A painting probably had hung there prior to the explosion. As soon as my hand touched the wall, the pull mounted, and a foreign magic pricked my skin. The pull increased, and a blue shimmer vibrated in the air. I called my magic and blasted the wall. My intuition told me there was something hidden on the other side. A dozen bricks fell, but my hand gripped a leather pouch, hidden inside the wall, between the bricks. I carefully took it out and opened it. A parchment scroll lay inside. I had found it! Finally.

Joy fluttered in my chest, and a smile danced on my lips. Upon touch, the scroll buzzed in my hand. Vicious and dark magic swelled from the scroll’s pages. A sudden pain pierced my skin, searing my flesh. I dropped the parchment and glanced at my hand. My fingers were charred, and I had a trouble moving them. I summoned my magic, anchoring it from the thread in my center and prayed to the gods that I’d be able to heal myself in time. A wave of invigorating powers washed over my hands, tingling my skin up to my fingers, and the scent of sandalwood and rose petals flooded my senses, easing away the pain.

I took the opportunity and studied the scroll writings. The images of ugly, repulsive drawings pierced my solar plexus, causing waves of nausea. It was no small wonder the world was in such a mess with those dark scriptures. But the worst was the occult rituals that facilitated through it.

Quickly my fingers and hands were healed, and carefully, I placed the parchment back into the pouch, when heavy steps resounded on the messy, dusty, debris-filled floor. The familiar scent of rotten eggs and decaying corpses wafted in the air, and I froze. It couldn’t be! Drogo’s magical signature came to my thread, prickling my skin. Holy cow, I had to wind up. I stood and hastily took out the teleportation charm. The small, black ball glowed in yellow light on my palm.

I threw it on the ground because that was how those charms worked. Yet, the item didn’t shatter, nor did a glittering cloud rise. No cloud, no sparkling stuff. Nada. What the hell? Sweat broke out on my forehead and neck, dampening my skin. Drogo’s steps came closer, and my heart raced wildly in my ribs, threatening to break my chest. I took a long breath, trying to calm my nerves. I had to fix the stupid glitch.

“What’s wrong with you?” I cried with a muffled voice as I retrieved the charm, taking it in my hands. Did the protective spells Drogo and his cronies used mess with the item? Or was it simply the castle’s dark magic that interfered with it? Everything seemed possible in the god-forsaken, demoniacal place.

The pounding steps reached my ears closer than ever, and in the next second, Drogo’s human appearance came into view. I had half a mind to blast the charm, in the hope the teleportation spell could get activated but opted not to destroy it. Something within my core whispered to me, Drogo must have disabled the spell.

“You!” He shouted at me, striding with giant steps toward me.

I hurriedly summoned a protective barrier. I threw the charm on the floor one last time, hoping for a miracle.

“The jig is up, Barbie.” His voice boomed like thunder, drawing nearer to me. Yet he stopped this time about a dozen feet from me. I guessed the explosion blast had made him weary of my powers—not that I could control or understand them. Hell, I couldn’t even activate the teleportation charm. I gave it one last sad look and had to accept the fact I had to disable Drogo’s magic first. They called this “Mission Fallen Conspiracy,” but it sure as hell felt like I was on the way to “Mission Failed.”

“I have to give you credit, though. You blasted the veil and cast a very old and difficult spell.”

“Really? I did? And what was it?” My fingers clutched the scroll so hard I was afraid my nails might leave marks on the parchment through the pouch.

“The backward teleportation spell.”

Seeing the bewilderment on my face that the spell didn’t ring a bell, he clarified, “You shift the person to the last place he occupied.”

What an irony! Now I couldn’t even activate a simple transport charm.

“You’re brilliant, Aiyana,” he said, his voice turning again softer. “I don’t understand it. Why do you care about the Magic Council or the White and Black Courts after all the crap they put you through? Didn’t they declare our kind an abomination? Do you feel content and happy having to repress your magic every single day?” He paused to study my face. His eyes glanced at the pouch I clutched in my hand. He knew I wanted to get out with his horrible scripture.

“Last chance. Come and join my army of Nephilim. Think about it. We’re our own masters. You could do anything you please on my team. We’re the gods because there are no other gods left. We’re the most powerful, and the others know it, that’s why they’ve hunted us down for two millennia.” His eyes sparkled in their distinctive dark crimson color. “I’ll make you chief commander of my army. Together we’ll take over the world.”

The crimson glow in his pupils mounted, showing his zealous passions, and I knew I had to stop his tirade. I couldn’t stand him, nor his castle, least of all, his insanity. As he held out his hand, I dug for my Nephilim magic. It spilled into my veins like wine, pumping up my powers. It filled my core faster than before. I tapped on the ley lines running under my feet for maximum effect.

The pulsating energy of destruction, rage, and steel welled up in my body, and I hurled at him a gigantic glowing fireball. An explosion burst, bigger than the previous ones. It painted the dark room as raging flames erupted, swallowing the space. The scent of brimstone rolled off, and Drogo shrieked as he fell down. I didn’t wait another second and threw the charm on the ground, hoping the scorching fire wouldn’t burn or tamper with it. The small ball shattered, and a silver glittering cloud rose in front of me. The flames didn’t catch on it, and I stepped into the sparking stuff, holding on to its positive vibrations. The smell of mint, garden flowers and honey prickled my senses, and I reached out to them. It was a nice change from the feel of Drogo’s magic. I envisioned my house in Santa Theresa, and the pulsating magic grabbed me around the waist.

“You won’t get away with this, bitch! I’ll hunt you down and make your life living hell! You’ll pay for this. Do you hear me? This is far from over. You’ll wish I killed you,” Drogo screamed maniacally and tried to steady himself, but his legs failed his body, and he stumbled. In a last attempt, he straightened, gaining balance, and rushed toward me, but it was too late: the magic bubble had taken me, pulling me through the ether into the void.