Chapter 30

CHAPTER30

I’m standing in the ruined living room of the cliffside manor that will one day be our home. Ashen is upstairs, his hammer a comforting beat that travels down the stone staircase. Aglaope scrubs a section of the floor where we’ve already swept away debris. I’m brushing down one of the walls with soapy water, and I hum a little tune to the beat of my strokes. Sometimes I think of Bian and cleaning in the Swan and I smile, wondering if she’s sitting in the lobby doing her crosswords as the world is ready to fall apart around her. It should be a disturbing image, but somehow it feels fitting for Sanford. Something makes me think the rest of existence could be destroyed and that hotel would still be standing.

“The Annuls of Biluda state that the Nephilim are creatures trapped between realms, malevolent beings that were punished by the gods for the Insurrection of Ekur,” Eryx says, talking just as much to himself as to the rest of us as he scrubs a tapestry that was hanging on the wall. Ever since he went to the Realm of Light and spent two days in the library in the ziggurat, he’s been a non-stop fountain of historical information, though there’s been less about the Nephilim than I’d hoped for. “In the prophecy of the seventh oracle, Nunamnir, it was believed some Nephilim had remained in the Living Realm in hiding, possessing the bodies of mortals as slowly regained power.”

“That’s what I remember from the early stories. Possession this, possession that. Ghost stories. It seemed like it was another human myth,” I reply.

Aglaope’s laugh is like music that warms the stone walls, and Eryx glances over his shoulder with a look of awe. “We do know a thing or two about hiding beneath the stories of humankind.”

I hum in agreement. “Anything else, Mr. Art Historian Angel?” I ask as Eryx rinses the tapestry, the bright colors starting to show through now that the centuries of dirt are being washed away.

“Only that immortals would open a channel to the space between realms and allow the Nephilim in.”

“Great. So, if that’s true, then how many Nephilim are there lurking in the Living Realm?” I ask.

“Not sure,” he says with a shrug. “It seems like the channel can only be open for short period of time, in an ancient city called Rusalimum.”

A gasp leaves my lips as I turn to face Eryx. Pieces of memory shift into place, my pulse humming with the excitement of a picture coming into view. The hammering stops upstairs, Ashen surely sensing the sudden shift in my emotions. His footsteps flow down the staircase and he joins us in the living room.

“What’s going on?” he asks, looking between us.

“Rusalimum.”

“What about it?”

“Mila Karras. Ammon Hassan told us the first time that we went to his apartment that the witch Mila Karras had died in an accident in Jerusalem, do you remember? Obviously, we know it wasn’t true, since she had been working with Semyon to create hybrids when she stole Valentina’s castle and identity.”

Ashen’s brow furrows. “Okay…so what’s the connection to Rusalimum?”

“Eryx just said one of the texts he was reading stated immortals would open a channel and allow Nephilim into the Living Realm in Rusalimum.”

“The first city of Jerusalem. At Gihon Spring,” he says, the realization stretching his voice into little more than a whisper. “If they’ve found a way to keep the channel open or to reopen it once closed, that’s where it will be.”

Ashen and I smile at one another with this discovery, the first concrete lead in finding the Nephilim and shutting down the threat before it gets anymore out of hand. “Well then. I guess it’s a good thing we have our first Council meeting,” I say as I wipe down my soapy hands on a towel. “At least I’ll have something juicy to bring.”

Ashen gives a fake little cough, taking my hand with a cocky grin as he leads us toward the door as I wave goodbye to my sister and Eryx.

“You would describe yourself as juicy?” I ask, shooting a doubtful look at Ashen as he holds the newly repaired front door open for me.

“No,” he replies, his smile a study in wickedness before he subdues it beneath a haughty mask. “I believe that is the term your colleague Anna used to describe me in the bar at the Swan.”

I hit him hard in the arm and he laughs, fucking laughs, that outrageous, warm, wonderful sound knitting around my heart and tugging. “You are the absolute worst.”

“And you love me,” Ashen says as he wraps his arm around my shoulder and places a kiss on my scowling mouth.

“Most of the time.”

“All of the time.”

We slip into quiet conversation about the upcoming meeting as we pass a few demons on the way, and for the first time, they don’t just stiffly greet me under Ashen’s penetrating gaze. They actually say ‘hello’ or ‘good afternoon’ before acknowledging me with my title. They don’t mutter little insults or regard me through narrowed eyes filled with vicious flames. Ashen doesn’t kill or maim or even threaten anyone. Honestly, even though I do find it pretty hot when he slices someone’s limb off with a single strike of his sword, it’s kind of a nice change not to dodge a fountain of blood. On the plus side, I’ve learned in the process an important lesson about this realm, which is the merits of dark clothing. When Ashen got brains on my cream sweater, I implemented Rule Five: keep the light clothing at home. But also rule Five-And-A-Half: wear light colored underwear because the Reaper finds blood spatter on my bra super hot.

I push away thoughts of beheaded demons and bloody bras as we enter the Kur, the structure still imposing despite its growing familiarity. We’re the last to arrive in the Council Room, and everyone stands when we enter. Cole nods to Ashen with a faint smile, and my own hope and relief are a mirror of what I feel from my husband, rippling like gentle waves beneath my skin. Cole still seems a little tired, but so much better now that Naya has agreed to the terms of our offer. Though I can smell the adrenaline that enriches her scent of citrus and jasmine, she at least seems at ease next to him.

When we’re settled, we start our first meeting as the complete Council of the Shadow Realm.

We cover a few easy topics first, like updates from the Houses and feedback following the events of the Gauntlet, which everyone seems to agree was a significant success, even within House Mushussu. We talk about making room for more souls and reallocating space that had once belonged to traitors who have been permanently killed. I describe our new knowledge about the Nephilim arriving through a channel at Jerusalem. We agree to gather a contingent of Shub Lugal soldiers and send them through our corridor there to find it and shut it down as soon as the meeting is over. When it comes to the other corridors to the Living Realm that still remain closed, everyone agrees that we need to maintain the rotation of opening select portals so we can bring Reapers home, but it does lead us into the most pressing matter and the one I’m most worried about. It’s the one I’m most afraid no one will say yes to, and sure a shit, I’m not wrong.

My proposition is quite simple. We need to go to the Realm of Light and find the key to Soulfate.

“No,” Hotaru says when I propose reaching out to the Realm of Light for permission to search for the next stone.

“Watch your mouth,” Ashen snaps.

Hotaru rolls her eyes. “No, Your Grace.” She shifts her attention from Ashen to me. “The anunnaki cannot be trusted, whether we have made alliances with individuals there or not,” she says, her gaze slicing to Cole and back again. “The stones can only be taken by immortals under specific conditions, correct?”

“Yes,” I reply with a nod. “An ancient immortal with the capability of traveling the realms without a chaperone.”

“So we can only send you, and the anunnaki likely have traitors among them just as we have had among our own kind. Whether Ember was working with the Nephilim for their true purpose of controlling the fates or whether they had successfully deceived her into starting a war among the realms to distract us all while they took what they wanted, she still was in contact with the enemy, operating from the inside. Who’s to say the Realm of Light does not suffer the same affliction of traitors in their midst? If we send you, the anunnaki could seize our Queen, and the Nephilim could take the Soulfate key before forcing you to give up Deathfate as well. They would bring war here, crushing this realm until they either found what they were looking for or until you couldn’t bear it any longer, giving them exactly what they wanted.”

“Do not let the future run too far away from you, Hotaru,” Imani says as she leans forward in her chair and laces her graceful fingers on the black marble table. “Our Queen hasn’t even set foot from the Throne Room and you have her future mapped to her downfall.”

Hotaru scowls and crosses her arms. “It’s called risk mitigation.”

“She has a point,” Davina interjects as her eyes fix to mine. “It’s dangerous to send you. Is there someone else we could send? Someone who also has the capability of obtaining the stone but who would be less likely to catch the attention of potential traitors?”

“That’s a good question, who else has the ability to travel the realms without someone to guide their entry?” I ask. “I always went with someone, both here and to the Realm of Light.”

“Yes, but only because you didn’t know where the passages were or how to activate them. Not necessarily because you weren’t permitted entry on your own,” Ashen replies. I look up and meet his eyes, his cognac gaze flowing over my skin, taking in my unusual glow here that I can’t see but all the demons can. “You already had access to the Realm of Light after you saved me in Sanford. You are able to travel to and from the Shadow Realm now that we’ve mated.”

“Who else has that ability?” Maru asks. “Anyone else?”

“I do,” Cole says. “I would need to have a reason to meet with someone in the Realm of Light to go back, otherwise it would arouse suspicion if I showed up without cause.”

“I might also fit the requirements,” Ashen replies, a crease appearing between his brows as he thinks through the possibilities. “I can be summoned by the anunnaki Aloros. Technically, though he needs to request my assistance, I can pass into his realm without a guide. If that is sufficient to fulfill the conditions of retrieving a fate key, then he would also be to do it. He has the same ability to travel here if I summon.”

“If that’s true, they might already have the Soulfate stone freed if he’s found it,” Maru says as he runs a finger across his forehead, his gaze trapped on the surface of the polished table.

“Perhaps, but they also might not even know where it is, just like we had no idea it was at the bottom of the sea,” I say. I sigh, leaning back into the plush gold cushions of the throne.

“What about me?” Ediye asks. “I have the free pass to the Realm of Light. I could go. What would it take to have the same unchaperoned access here?”

“Probably a reaping and then a resurrection from Davina, I would guess, unless there’s another way,” I reply as I glance up to Ashen, whose mouth is set in a grim line as he shrugs. “Perhaps my sister fits the requirements too. Are there any texts related to unchaperoned access to all realms?”

“If there are any passages, I’d be willing to bet they’re in the book you took from Ammon Hassan’s,” Ashen says as I let out a groan. I fucking hate that book and the mental gymnastics it’s taking to decipher its intricacies. Ashen smirks as though he can read my thoughts, which probably isn’t hard. I’m sure they’re written all over my face.

Naya leans forward, letting her gaze rest on each person as she speaks. “Regardless of how it’s done, I don’t think we need to make more of us who could be taken and used for the purposes of securing the second stone. The fewer the better.”

Cole nods next to her. “There could be more individuals out there that we don’t know about who fit the criteria. Now that we know only one stone is needed to pass the gate, we need to find the others before the Nephilim do.”

“We have the Deathfate stone,” Hotaru says. “Our realm is protected. If we keep our corridors shut, we will weather this storm. As we always have. Alone.”

I rise from the throne, waving for the others to remain seated. Silence follows as I walk to the windows overlooking the Bay of Souls, the dark water below glistening like an oil slick. A ripple disrupts the shifting waves in the distance and I wonder if it’s Hooktopus stalking the murk, stirring the nightmares of the human souls that fester beneath the surface.

“I wish it were that simple, to just shut our realm and let the storm rage,” I say to the bay that stretches into the fog. “The Nephilim are resolved to get to the fates. Even if it takes them centuries, they won’t just give up. Who knows how long they’ve been trapped in the abyss. What would you do to get out of hell? What would you give to never go back?” I turn toward the Council. I hold Ashen’s gaze. “You swam through our hell. What would you give to never touch that water again?”

Ashen swallows, pain etched into his features, his eyes pressing closed for a moment to open with dark flame. “Anything but the one thing I cannot live without.”

My heart grows heavy in my chest as we watch one another. When I finally look away and take a step forward, I carry the warmth of Ashen’s gaze with me. “Wherever they’ve been trapped, it must be just as bad as the Black Sea. Maybe worse. And the Nephilim are not just desperate. They are coordinated and determined. They will be relentless. They will never give up. We must get that stones and destroy Alahalsu before they do. If the Nephilim capture it, they will find a way to use it against us until we fall, whether our corridors are shut are not.”

We’re all staring at one another as though daring one person to speak, the room filled with thudding hearts and restless thoughts. I’m just about to suggest we take a break when I hear running footsteps approaching from down the hall. I rush into the corridor with the others following behind me as Cyrus’s brawny frame draws to a halt in front of us. Though his face is stern and reserved, his eyes are wild with alarm. “The assembly hall. Hurry.”

He turns and starts running back the way he came as we keep pace next to him. “What’s going on?” Ashen asks as we take a left turn at speed.

“We received an urgent message from Keegan at the portal in Narbonne. He brought him back through the corridor.”

The fine hairs at my nape raise as claws seems to rake across my spine. I grab the kaiken from the sheath on my thigh. “Brought who?”

But as we enter the assembly hall, Cyrus doesn’t answer.

The hellfire swords of ten Shub Lugal soldiers are pointed to a man kneeling on the stone floor. His white tunic and pants are streaked with gore. He clutches his injured arm to his body, everything gone from the elbow down as though it was torn off. Flesh and shattered bone glisten with blood. His unblemished wings clink as the feathers shift with each of his ragged inhalations. But the agony in his expression is not just the torment of physical pain.

“They have come for the Soulfate key,” Aloros wheezes, despair painted across his beautiful face. “The Nephilim are taking the Realm of Light.”

For a moment, it seems like all the air flees the wide expanse of the Kur.

“How is this possible?” I ask, the guards lowering their weapons as I rush to Aloros’s side. Ashen pulls his belt off and tightens it across the angel’s bicep to stem the bleeding.

“House Shabarra,” Aloros says through gritted teeth. Sweat flows down the bewildered and broken expression on Aloros’s face. “A contingent of traitors opened portals there and let them in. They are fighting alongside them. They are contained for now in that quarter of Anur, but they are continuously taking more Nephilim in through the portals. They have many fighters. And they brought hellfire.”

“We believe we know where the Nephilim might be coming through to the Living Realm. Rusalimum, now Jerusalem. Cyrus,” I say, shifting my attention to the soldier as he nods. “Gather some trusted soldiers. Send them there to find it and shut it down. See if they can identify where they’re getting through to the Realm of Light and close the corridors from that side too.”

Cyrus turns and carries out the orders, picking soldiers for the task as Ediye works to staunch the bleeding from Aloros’s injury. When Ashen finishes tying the tourniquet, Ediye takes his wounded arm and examines the shattered bone. I smell burnt skin and singed hair. Sections of his flesh are charred and blistered.

“They knew you could summon Ashen?” I ask.

“Yes. I was about to call for him but was struck down with a mace before I could start the summoning. The Nephilim are strong,” Aloros says with a shudder. “Very strong.”

Ediye lets Aloros’s arm down gently before examining his ribs, prodding her fingers against them as he hisses in pain. She meets my eyes when she straightens. “I need to lie him down somewhere safe.”

I nod. “The Throne Room. We can use the table.”

Ediye turns her attention to Cole. “Get Wynter, have her bring the same supplies she used for Eryx to stop him from burning here. Tell her what happened and that I need my healing materials, she’ll know what to bring.”

Cole motions for two guards to go with him and they take off running for the residences as Ashen moves to Aloros’s uninjured side and heaves the angel’s heavy arm over his shoulder. Aloros is the taller and broader of the two, but Ashen’s formidable strength keeps him steady with ease as he pulls the angel to his feet. When the two are balanced, Ashen focuses on the corridor ahead and they start to limp in the direction of the Throne Room. Aloros steals a puzzled glance at my husband as though he never expected to receive the care he’s being handled with, and a little surge of pride balloons in my heart for Ashen. He feels it and slides a scowl in my direction. “If he touches you with those wings, I will tear the other arm off myself. Wings too,” Ashen says, and I smile, if only for a moment.

We walk in tense silence as we return to the Throne Room. Of the Council, only Imani dares to come close to the angel in our midst as she brings Aloros a glass of water after Ashen heaves him onto the table. The other demons of the Council keep back from the table, watching with both curiosity and suspicion.

“How did you get here? How did you know where to go?” I ask, using my dagger to cut a strip from my tunic and then a slice through my hand, letting my blood saturate the fabric so Ediye can press it to Aloros’s wound.

“Cole,” he replies with a grimace as Ediye starts working as best she can on the angel while we wait for her supplies. Hotaru lets out a disapproving growl, but I put up my bloodied hand in a request for silence. Aloros glances at her but continues. “He managed to get a message through for how to seek you out if we experienced difficulties. I never thought…” he says, trailing off as his gaze falls to the floor.

“You said they are contained for now?”

“Yes.”

“How long?” Ashen asks.

“Maybe a day at most, unless we can close the last portals in house Shabarra. I closed two before I was injured,” the angel replies. “We believe they have come for the Soulfate stone. They are attacking House Esagila, targeting the main pathways leading to the ziggurat. That is where the stone resides, in the lowest level.”

“The Nephilim would need an immortal capable of taking it. Have they found someone?”

“Possibly. I recognized an apothecary named Lazarus from the Guild of Gilgamesh Council among them. He has access to our realm. Do you know him?”

Ashen shakes his head. “No, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the ability to travel here. Perhaps the former leadership here had somehow granted him unchaperoned access.”

Aloros nods, and his gaze drops to the floor once more. His hummingbird heartbeat quickens. He swallows. “Shortly before I left, the enemy began mobilizing toward the gates to the House of Virtues. We believe it is an attempt to divide our attention, to draw us away from their target,” he says, his voice strained. “House Esagila and House Borsippa fight to keep the Nephilim from the House of Virtues. They are weaker there. They have few fighters. The souls of many children and youth reside there. If the enemy gets in, many souls will perish in everlasting death.”

Silence descends on the room. Aloros’s head drops. His eyes are pressed closed. Ashen looks to me, his lips set in a grim line.

I smell Aloros’s tears as they slide across his skin to tap on his stained linen pants. His expression is every facet of agony when he opens his eyes and looks right into me, as though he could pull my soul free with nothing more than a desperate glance. Without breaking the connection between us, he pulls a heavy chain from around his neck, withdrawing a hexagonal gold pendant set with rubies and lapis lazuli stones. “The key to access the hidden portals of the Realm of Light.” He holds it for me to take. I remove the square that hangs around my neck, holding one in each hand. I can already see how they fit together, the divots in the Shadow Realm pendant made to fit the stones in the hexagon for the Realm of Light. “Long ago, before most of us even existed, our realms were not enemies. We were halves of a whole. And now we need your help. We call for the mercy of the Shadow Realm.”

I close my fingers around the gold and gems, imprinting them on my palms.

“And we will come,” I say. No one argues, but I see the wariness in their eyes when I look around the room. I gaze back into Aloros’s soul, just as he’s looked into mine. “We will fight for the Realm of Light.”