CHAPTER 8

The tension in the dimly lit cabin was so thick that each inhale felt like breathing in mud. The small circle of candlelight was only enough to illuminate the three winged humans sitting on one side of the table and the three of us on the other.

“I speak for us all when I thank you for accepting our appeal for a meeting,” Rafaela said, sitting straight in the backless chair that gave room for her folded grey wings behind her. Since having our interaction out on the ice I’d conjured across the sea, Rafaela hadn’t changed out of her gold-hemmed robes of white. Rafaela’s sleeveless tunic exposed arms crafted from defined muscle. She kept her hands joined and rested on the table before her. “And of course, our expressed and utmost sincere apology for what has occurred today. Of course, words are meaningless without action, so we have arranged for any supplies lost in the sinking of one of your ships to be reimbursed and provided at the end of this meeting.”

“Thank you,” I said, meaning it wholeheartedly. “Perhaps we can begin by discussing who or, pardon my rudeness, what exactly you are? As you can imagine, we are a little confused as to what exactly is happening.” I tried to keep my face void of expression that would soon betray me and the discomfort I felt being in the presence of such powerful and unknown creatures.

“An understandable question. One of many I can imagine you have.” Rafaela rolled her shoulders back, enticing her wings to shiver for a moment. “Although we can’t blame you for your lack of knowledge. We were warned that this realm has forgotten of our existence, so your ignorance was expected. It would seem the lack of belief runs deep in both the fey and the humans.”

“Answer the question,” Althea added, speaking before I could utter a similar sentiment. “ Please .”

“Altar was not the only god to make beings in his image. It was clear the humans would not stand a chance against the power of the fey, in case they turned their power against them. So, the Creator crafted warriors of his own. We are known as Nephilim. Our purpose is to spread His word and protect it, no matter the cost.”

“Angels,” I said.

“Ah, so the knowledge has not been completely lost?” Rafaela asked.

“Not by everyone,” I replied, aware of my friends side-eyeing me. “There was once a pious man who mentioned angels. I didn’t believe him at the time, but I do now.”

“Nephilim, angels,” Seraphine barked, seemingly the most relaxed out of the three of us. Her boots were moments from resting on the glass-topped table as she slouched down in her seat. “Never heard of you.”

“And that is precisely the problem,” Rafaela confirmed, hardly caring for the assassin’s presence. “Our kind were dismissed from your realms many moons ago. So many that even the moon itself has forgotten about us.”

“Why though?” I asked. My voice filled the cavernous room and echoed back at me.

“I’m prepared to answer any question you have, but you will need to be more specific,” Rafaela replied. She stood from her chair, her wings twitching with unspent energy. Even folded, I could recognise the pure strength and span of her feathered limbs. If she were to extend them here, they would likely break out on either side of the cabin’s wooden walls.

“Why do we not know of you?” I extended my question, following her as she skirted the table toward us.

“You may expect a story of jealously, conflict of power or perhaps hate. But I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you with the answer. The Creator simply did not require us in Durmain. After the great divide, it was agreed the fey would linger in Wychwood and the humans in Durmain. Our job, of ensuring peace, was not required.”

“The humans are safe from us.” Althea shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “It would seem it is the other way around now.”

“Indeed,” Rafaela nodded. “The Creator’s word we had been entrusted to spread, had already spread like wildfire across the humans. Our purpose had been met.”

“So, the Creator filed you away like ancient books in a long-lost library, ready to call upon you when the world finally forgot about him?” Althea suggested.

Rafaela shook her head, braids of deep brown hair twisting around her shoulders. “Not quite, Althea Cedarfall. The Creator does not wish to force his presence on humans. Faith must be found, not forced. If it was not for the threat of the Defiler’s return, we might never have sailed across the seas to find this land again. Some of us even feel disappointed in our return, but we have a purpose.”

“To spread his word?” I asked, but felt as though I already knew the answer.

“To protect them from our shared enemy,” the other woman said. Her voice was light with youth. I could tell from her sharp tongue I had offended her with my suggestion. “Unlike the Nephilim of the past, our purpose this time is very different. Aldrick wishes to bring forth a threat that will annihilate the human race. We’ve come to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“And what of the threat to the fey,” I added, tension unravelling in my gut. “Do you care for us?”

“Of course we do, however, that is your responsibility, is it not? Powerful kings and queens, you already have the magic to protect the fey. We are but two sides of the same coin, wanting the same outcome.”

“To spread his word?” Seraphine snapped. “Seems like a rather relaxed way of protecting humans.”

“Did you miss the second task he bestowed upon us?” the younger Nephilim said, tilting her head to the left.

“Protect His word. What little of the faith remains, it is our duty to ensure it does not dwindle,” Rafaela said.

“So, let me get this straight. You show up now because of Duwar?” Seraphine asked, brows furrowed and teeth bared.

Rafaela nodded, grimacing as the name of the banished god seemed to fill every quivering shadow of the cabin. “The demon god is coming. For the sake of us all, we must ensure the gate to its dimension is left untouched, secured and closed. Duwar’s return will affect us all, no matter what lands we live upon. It just so happened that you found yourselves in the crossfire of our visit to meet with the Defiler’s chosen subject. And for that, again, I apologise.”

“Then you might like to know that you are late,” I added. “Aldrick left Lockinge in search of the keys. If you were hoping to catch up with him, we better end this conversation and let you go.”

“You know of the keys?” There was no disguising the worry in the younger girl’s voice. I looked at her face, seeing how the emotion across it betrayed her. Her hair was golden, as though the sun itself laid its presence upon her head and gifted her with a head of its own light. Piercing blue eyes set nestled upon her face like jewels. Unlike Rafaela’s wings, hers were a dark brown. Among their feathers, I could see other beige tones that reminded me of an owl. And her wide eyes only added to her appearance of wisdom.

“I know of them, but not what they are or where,” I replied. “Aldrick enjoyed boasting about his plans but giving only enough away that still kept him steps ahead.”

“He is blind in his search,” she replied. As though reading my mind, she quickly answered my thought. “My name is Gabrial, and I am the Creator’s script. Memory of his word in flesh.”

“What an introduction,” Seraphine mumbled beneath her breath. “Do you all have fancy titles?”

“Gabrial,” Althea added in hopes of burying Seraphine’s distrust, quickly drawing the young girl’s attention from the assassin back to her. “Do you believe Aldrick doesn’t know where to look for the keys that will unbind Duwar from his imprisonment?”

“Considering Aldrick had one key in his very possession and let it slip carelessly through his fingers, all without knowing, it would suggest he doesn’t,” Rafaela said. “I know Aldrick thinks he knows where to search, for the Defiler will whisper many lies in his ear. However, they are both as lost and blind as a lamb without its mother. But he knows they will be within Wychwood, so that is where he will start looking. And usually, when you look for something, you end up finding it. We are here to stop him before he does.”

I stood without realising, mind focused on only one thing Rafaela had just let slip. “He had one?”

Gabrial smiled knowingly, tracing her bright stare from the crown upon my head to the polished toe of my boot. “Once he recognises a key for what it truly is, the rest of them will easily lay themselves before him for the claim. It is our duty to ensure he never discovers them.”

“Then we must get to them before he does,” I spluttered. “Destroy them so neither Aldrick nor anyone else weak enough to allow a demon to fill their minds can attempt this again.”

Gabrial looked to Rafaela, who shared the worried expression. Without uttering a word, Rafaela seemed to communicate something to the girl.

“Destroying the keys is not an option,” the third Nephilim said. It was the first time he had spoken, his deep voice a low rumble, like the distant song of thunder before a storm. As he laid his eyes on me, I sensed a mistrust in his stare that didn’t waver.

“We would all be liars if we did not admit that destroying the keys would be the easier route to stopping Aldrick from freeing the Defiler,” Rafaela added, drawing the focus back to her. “However, doing so would simply unlock further problems that even we do not have the power to stop. I’m the Creator’s hammer. Enforcer of His word. And if I can recognise that destruction is not the way out of this, then know it for truth.”

“So you do all have fancy titles?” Seraphine asked, her voice slipping into the moment of silence such that not a single person could pretend not to have heard it like the rest of her comments.

“My name is Cassial,” the man with the slitted cloak and ivory-white wings said. “The Creator’s shield, guard of His word.”

His hair was midnight black, his face shadowed with a beard that matched. The silver of his eyes was so bright that they looked almost entirely white.

Cassial was clearly the oldest of them all, with a broad figure and towering presence that gave him the impression of being the offspring of a giant. His giant fists were balled at his side. One slam of them upon the glass table and it would have shattered into countless pieces, that I was sure of.

Seraphine pulled a face, brows raised to her hairline. “You must be special. I pride myself on having an excellent memory, but even I’m going to end up forgetting that. So Cassial will do.”

“Our names will suffice.” Rafaela smiled, her eyes glowing with genuine amusement. “But you are right, only the special ones have titles. There is a small selection of us, personally chosen by the Creator. Although, speaking of names, is it not your guild that run around under the guise of a snake?”

“We prefer serpent,” Seraphine said, her amused stare giving away her enjoyment of the back and forth. “It has more of a bite.”

“Oh,” Rafaela sang. “I’m sure it does.”

As they spoke, I blinked and glimpsed a vision of Abbot Nathanial. His body broken beneath the rubble in the church all those miles away. He was devoted to the Creator in a place where others were not. His memory alone had me turning on Seraphine.

“Seraphine, perhaps we don’t offend our hosts, especially since we know what they are capable of?”

“Or that we may be looking at some of our most valuable allies,” Althea added.

Seraphine stood abruptly. Her chair clattered to the floor. The sound of its fall was uncomfortably loud. She hunched over the glass table with her arms locked below her to keep her upright. The weight of her grief was so sudden and overwhelming that it almost brought Seraphine to her knees. I knew the feeling well.

A stain of scarlet crept up her neck and shaded her face with ferocity. “My distrust and annoyance that they have simply turned up now after already so much has been lost is beyond me. Do not ask me to show them respect when they have spent years hiding away in Altar knows where doing who knows what when I’m sure the Nephilim’s presence in this realm may have prevented us from ever getting to this point.”

“But we are here now,” Gabrial said, attempting to calm the furious assassin.

“My sister died because of your tardiness,” Seraphine snapped, eyes glistening with tears. “Forgive me if my welcome is not as warm as you were hoping.”

I had no right to ask Seraphine to grasp onto her rationality when my lack of it had led me into Aldrick’s hands. Grief was an emotion powerful enough to execute decisions without a second thought. It latched onto fury and fuelled it.

“Loss is the ugly truth of conflict,” Rafaela said. A sympathetic warmth burned through her deep eyes as she refused to drop her attention from the heavy-breathing assassin. “I wish I could ensure you that our presence will prevent more, but I dare admit it will only incite further harm. The Nephilim’s presence will enrage the Defiler. Make the demon desperate and rushed. Our being here presents a challenge, and the Defiler’s desperate need to be freed will probably encourage them to counter that challenge.”

Seraphine’s gaze flickered across Rafaela. In search of what, I was unsure. But to my surprise, she took her seat again. “You are confident in your hopes of stopping Aldrick from releasing Duwar?”

Rafaela contemplated Seraphine’s question for a moment, glancing across the other two Nephilim that sat, stone-faced, at the table. “There is no other choice.”

“If that is the case, then we must work together,” I said. “We could do with the help of those clearly well versed in battle.”

“Strategy,” Rafaela corrected. “And yes. We don’t intend to leave your side for a moment, Robin Icethorn.”

There was something off about what she said, but I couldn’t place a finger on what that was.

“We know more about Aldrick and what he will do to ensure his task is completed. You have the knowledge of Duwar,” Althea said, slapping her hand on the table. Smoke curled around her fingers as the surrounding air hissed. “Together, we have power. I like the sound of becoming allies.”

“If you share what you know about the keys, we can help protect them whilst Aldrick is found and dealt with,” I added. “Aldrick is a powerful fey with the ability to invade one’s mind and control his victim from the inside. If we are to stand a chance at stopping him, it will be together.”

“History has not looked kindly upon the union of fey and humans,” Gabrial said. “As you are well aware, Robin Icethorn, previously Robin Vale. You are the son of such a union. You, more than anyone, understand the divide.”

“I do.” I speared my gaze across the long table toward the younger Nephilim, who seemed to study her open palms as though they were pages of a book. Her attention on them interested me like a moth drawn to a flame. Looking through the dimly lit room, I pondered why her eyes ran back and forth as though she read from pages. Then I saw it. Beneath her skin, moving with fluid grace. There were shapes I did not recognise. Until I focused harder and saw the shapes shift into words.

The marks were a darker tone to her skin, like ink upon pale paper.

“I don’t remember telling you of my past though,” I said, unable to draw my eyes from the Nephilim’s skin.

“Nor do I know of it by asking you,” Gabrial replied, lifting her attention to me for only a moment. “The Creator has humans past and present written in scripture. You, Robin, are as much human as you are fey. Your heritage places you in favour of the Creator. He sees your story and remembers it. As he does with all his children. I see your origin and everything that has come after it.”

“Neat trick,” Althea muttered, watching the scripture move like a raging river beneath the girl’s skin. “Would come in handy if we come to an agreement of how we are to work together.”

“All in good time,” Gabrial said, her smile so genuine it almost stole my breath. “I’m memory of His word. My purpose, as the Creator’s script, is to remember what was and is. History of all born in his image is remembered on my skin. Answers and memories that even you, Robin, have forgotten. Ah, see here when you were shy of your fourth year, and you fell from the tree and snapped your ankle. Your pain is remembered. As is the memory of when you woke to two intruders in your home who took you and sold you to the Hunters. I see, as the Creator does, everything. That is my burden.”

My cheeks burned with the thought of the young girl seeing my past. What secrets and stories she could uncover with such a gift.

“We are all burdened,” Rafaela added, walking back to her seat. “Given gifts which have a purpose in His name. Just as you, Althea Cedarfall and Robin Icethorn, have a purpose for the fey. Children of Altar–”

“It would seem you have a way of diverting the conversation swiftly away from the keys,” I said, shaking off the confusion Gabrial’s revelation had cursed me with. “I think we should focus on that.”

“For good reasons,” Cassial said, casting his silver eyes across the three of us.

“Robin is right. If you are unwilling to answer our questions, why call on our council in the first place?” Althea asked, tone suggesting her annoyance of the dance.

Unless they were keeping the knowledge from us because they didn’t trust us with it?

“The human who waits on your ship,” Rafaela said. “His story should have ended, yet still his lungs are filled with life. His heart beats, but not by the will of the Creator.”

“Duncan.” My body hardened in my seat, skin turning to cold stone. It was undeniable that the Nephilim shared an unspoken interest in Duncan, for they each glanced at one another.

“Duncan Rackley,” Gabrial confirmed his name. “He should be dead, but he is not. We would like to know why.”

“Can’t you glean that information, Script of the Creator?” Seraphine spat, leaning back in her chair. It was a miracle she didn’t prop her feet up on the table.

“His story ends with his death,” Gabrial replied, unbothered by Seraphine’s sarcasm. “I cannot see beyond it.”

“Well, you can thank Aldrick for that,” Seraphine added.

“And what are we thanking him for exactly?” Cassial asked, deep voice a rumbling groan.

“He is–”

“Again, we have danced away from the only topic that matters. And that is the keys.” My mind wanted nothing more than to keep Duncan away from the line of focus. Whereas I could control what I said, my magic loosened at the mention of the man I’d do anything to protect. I felt the flow of cold air seep out of my mouth as I spoke. Rafaela looked at me and my display of power. A single brow lifted as she did so.

The concept of the Nephilim asking after Duncan did more than simply unnerve me. I felt a shiver of disgust at the idea of him filling their interest. Defensive jealousy was so intrusive that I lost control of the frozen power that twisted deep within me.

“We mean him no harm,” Rafaela said.

“I wish to believe you, but you see I’m rather protective of what belongs to me.”

“Understandable, considering all that you have been through. However, perhaps I can prove that we are no threat.” Gabrial reached out a hand across the table. Ink swirled across her palm. “Let me show you.”

I studied her palm, mesmerised by the words shifting just beneath her skin.

Her fingers curled, beckoning me to take them. Gabrial must have sensed my hesitation as she saw my hands grip onto my thighs in defiance. “The human side of you allows me to share the word with you. Please, if this does not help you to trust us, at least you can see that we do not lie.”

I gritted my teeth. My jaw ached as I reached out for her hand. “I’m sure you don’t need warning that if you do anything to harm me, I could shatter your hand with a single thought.”

She sighed, her smile never wavering. “Not everyone is out to harm you, Robin Icethorn.”

“We will see.” I stared deep into her azure eyes as my fingers brushed her palm.

On impact, the world faded.

My mind was filled with images. I saw a young boy with obsidian hair throwing himself into the arms of a man. My father. Before my heart crumpled with pain, the image shifted like ink in water.

I saw… stones. Four black pillars formed around a symbol etched into the ground. This new vision felt different. I sensed power there. The image moved quickly, but I recognised the symbol of the Creator. It was scored on the ground between the four stone pillars. Except it was upside down. The northern arrow upon the wheel pointed south. Down.

The ground shifted beneath me. I felt myself fall sideways into the next vision before I could make sense of the first.

Out of the shadows, a balcony formed. Upon it, two men stood. One was small and the other was tall. The vision grew more defined until I recognised the steel-silver eyes and close-cut hair. As I recognised what I was being shown, I wished to pinch my eyes closed. To block out what was unfolding before me. As though sensing my wishes, the shadows exploded once again… but not before I heard two words spoken by the taller man.

Little bird.

I drew my hand back from Gabrial as though her touch burned me. She held her eyes on me. Her resolve was powerful across her youthful face.

“What happened?” Althea snapped, encasing me in a protective arm.

“I’m fine, Althea.” I couldn’t explain it. The visions, so real that I could hear, taste and smell my surroundings. “Impressive gift the Creator has given you,” I added, eyes fixed to Gabrial.

“What did you see?” Althea asked, her concern rushing over me in a tidal wave.

“I showed Robin his past,” Gabrial confirmed for me, likely aware I couldn’t form the words to begin to explain.

“The stones,” I said, wanting to divert the topic from the potential of slipping to the royal guard I fought daily to keep from my mind. “What are they?”

“Ah, so Gabrial has shown you the gate we have left behind,” Rafaela said, patting her comrade on the back. “That gate is what our kind have spent centuries protecting. The reason why we have been too occupied to meddle in human and fey affairs.”

“It will take more than that for us to trust your intentions,” Althea said.

“I trust them,” I added quickly, needing to diffuse the distrust between both parties.

Rafaela shrugged, fighting a smile. “Your internal concerns are for you to explain, not for me to speculate. We simply wish to understand what Aldrick is doing in his task of freeing the Defiler. Why he keeps your kind prisoners and how his followers have access to powers that should not be possible. Hence our interest in Duncan Rackley.”

Before I could open my mouth to fight back on his behalf, Althea spoke for me.

“Perhaps we go and find him straight away. Then you can ask him yourself. If you say that Duncan is no longer human enough for you to see his story, then he is no longer your responsibility. Leave him to us.”

Heat coiled in my chest at Althea’s words. I mouthed my thanks, and she nodded. If there was anyone who could protect him as well as me, it was her.

“I have an idea,” Seraphine spoke up, shattering the tension. “How about you tell us about the keys, and we will consider giving you what you need. A trade, so to say.”

There was a silence in the room that stretched and devoured us all. No one dared speak first, not when it signalled the forfeit. I waited, willing to encapsulate every single Nephilim in the room in ice to ensure they could never even think of Duncan again.

“Your trust in us must be earned,” Rafaela said finally. “Robin has made his stance on Duncan clear. We will not push again.”

A warmth unfurled in my chest at Rafaela’s words. My anger was now not with the Nephilim, but with the assassin who was still under my employment. It seemed she required a reminder. Abruptly, I stood, followed by Althea, who grimaced in silent agreement that this conversation had ended. “Thank you for your time. I have ships full of fey who I have promised to return home. You have a demon god to stop from destroying the world.”

For once I allowed the illusion of the king to slip, giving way to the selfish man who lurked beneath. And that part of me needed to get Duncan as far away from these people as possible.

I turned on my heel and moved for the door.

“Unfortunately, I cannot let you leave.” Cassial stood before it, his hulking frame blocking out the glorious light of late afternoon. His sudden presence was unexplained. He had shifted from his seat to in front of the door in a blink.

“Out of the way big guy,” Seraphine growled, setting herself before me. Like Cassial, she had moved unseen and now held two curved blades in her hands. Weapons shouldn’t have been brought into the meeting, but of course, the assassin had means of slipping in a few.

“I am afraid I am not able to do that.”

Seraphine’s lips curled over teeth. “I won’t ask again, I will make you instead.”

Cassial chuckled, glancing at the assassin’s knives with a lack of fear. “Pretty. I use blades bigger than those to pick food from my teeth. What is it you wish to do with those?”

“I have a few ideas.”

Althea was behind me, facing back into the room. Fire danced around her wrists, building its heat and intensity with each passing moment. “What is the reason for this?”

“Your protection,” Rafaela added quickly, both her and Gabrial sitting calmly at the table as though we were not moments away from a fight.

“Do you need us to prove that we do not need it?” I asked, stepping to Althea’s side. Ice crackled across my fingers, bringing the temperature of the room down.

“We do not wish to argue with you.” Rafaela held her arms up at her sides in surrender.

“Had us fooled when you sank one of my ships,” Althea reminded, knees bowing slightly as she readied herself.

“That was before we knew who and what you are.”

“What we are?” There it was again, the strange use of words. It unsettled me enough to relax my hold on my power and command Seraphine to stand down. “What do you mean by that?”

Rafaela looked to Gabrial, who shook her head in silent refusal. Whatever Rafaela was about to say, she swallowed it, took a deep breath and shifted her gaze to Cassial. “Let them leave if they so wish, Cassial.”

“That would not be wise,” he replied, refusing to move. “You know it as well as I.”

“They may leave, but… not alone.” Rafaela’s voice brimmed with control. The leadership she held among their group was clear. Cassial did as he was asked and stepped aside from the doorway, but not without a snarl at Seraphine, who, in return, snapped her teeth at him in play.

“Ready our fleet,” Rafaela called out after us as we slipped out of the cabin before another could stand in our way. “It would seem our journey is not over yet.”

“Where will you go?” I asked, turning back to see Rafaela’s full attention on me. Although moments before I wanted to run from this room, there was a small part of me that knew these beings were the key to dealing with Aldrick.

“Wherever you go,” Rafaela replied with words I didn’t expect. “We shall follow.”

I tried to swallow, but my throat seemed to have closed up. I only managed one rasped word. “Why?”

“Because you are crucial to ensuring Duwar stays locked in his dimension. Your survival is our survival.” Rafaela stood, muscles flexing in her arms as she placed them at her sides. “As mentioned, we will provide any supplies lost. In the meantime, take the time you need to settle any internal grievances. When you are ready to discuss how we can benefit you, we will be here.”