Chapter 34

CHAPTER34

We battle for Spes Aeterna. Every inch we make it down the road is a bloodbath. The Nephilim fight back hard as we hem them in, pressing the enemy into a second group of Shadow Realm fighters who hold a barricade further down the road. It’s a large contingent of Nephilim trapped between us, and groups of traitorous angels who fight with them take to the skies, attacking our soldiers from above. The Shub Lugal fell many with flaming arrows, the hyenas running through the enemy lines as they try to catch as many as they can before the angels take off into the night.

I fight off two Nephilim with Cyrus and Ashen, and I take a brief moment to gulp down a bag of blood from a pouch at my belt when someone nudges my elbow.

“What’s up?” Zara says, standing next to me as though we’re in the lineup for Starbucks. I’ve been so mired in battle and survival that I’ve not truly registered the presence of the hybrids in the realm until this moment. Their thoughts are barely a whisper beneath everything else that crashes around us.

“Hey. You know, the usual I guess,” I say as I shrug. I offer her a sip from the blood bag, but she shakes her head. “How are you?”

Zara smiles up at me, her pointed teeth somehow really suiting her with her black bob and her tartan skirt and her dark, goth-inspired makeup. “Totally awesome,” she says, legitimately sincere. She’s fiddling with a long metal tube, pulling a pin down a slit in its side to lock a spring into place.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Zara doesn’t reply. She just lifts the tube to her shoulder and lays her finger on a trigger at the base. She aims the barrel toward the sky and tracks the flight path of an enemy angel who flies overhead. When he comes within range, she shoots.

“I’m having a blast,” she answers as a silver net whirls into the sky, wrapping around the angel and catching on the sharp tips of his feathers, bringing him to the ground. He tumbles across the cobblestones with a pained yell as Zara gives me another bright grin. “Gotta run,” she says, slinging the net gun over her shoulder as she speeds toward the angel with a battle cry.

“Isn’t she the one who bit me in the battle at Valentina’s?” Ashen asks as we watch her tear into the angel’s throat with her teeth, unravelling the net as she pummels him into submission.

“Yeah. I like her.”

“I’m sure.”

I smile at Ashen and he rolls his eyes, and then we’re off, winding through the bodies of the dead and injured as we fight our way toward the ziggurat in the distance.

Our forces crush the Nephilim into our soldiers waiting further down the road, the demons of the Shadow Realm fighting alongside the angels who defend their realm, squeezing the enemy into a choke. We’ve battled them down to a group of about a hundred remaining fighters when two explosions rock the roadway. Buildings on both sides of the road blow apart in chunks of flying rock and shattered glass on the other side of the barricade, sending a wave of dust into the night sky that reflects the flames around us and obscures the ziggurat.

“That fucking sucks. We’re going to have to go around,” I say to Ashen as we watch the cloud rise, flames erupting from the damaged structures to make the roadway impassable.

“Yes, but we also need to stop the Nephilim from renewing their forces or this battle will never end,” he replies.

I nod, looking over the war that rages around us until I find the candidate I’m looking for. “Eryx!” I yell over the fighting. His sword carves a deep slash through a Nephilim’s chest and he meets my eyes with a nod. I give thanks to the realms for the hundredth time tonight that Ediye’s spell has held and he hasn’t passed out in the road as he weaves his way closer with a glittery grin. I think he’s actually enjoying himself. “We need to close the portals in Shabarra,” I say. “They’ll just keep bringing in more Nephilim unless we can shut them down.”

Eryx nods and whistles toward Vlad, who fights with honed grace alongside Valentina. “Hey Dracula,” he calls toward the ancient vampire. I snort a laugh and Eryx looks down at me with an edge of exasperation in expression. “Yeah, ever since some of the souls recognized him and Valentina explained the name, he insists on being called Dracula.”

Vlad joins us with Valentina close behind, and we outline the plan before the three take off in the direction of House Shabarra. Just as they’re leaving, Cole and Aloros appear, Aloros’s injured arm bound against his chest to keep the injury out of easy reach of an enemy.

“We can get through,” Cole says, pointing to a barricaded alley where several angels guard the access. “It opens by the gate to the House of Virtues, and then we can connect back with Spes Aeterna on the other side. The soldiers at the alley said the ziggurat is still safe for now, so it should be a straight shot once we pass the gate to Virtues.”

“I will take you directly to the Soulfate stone once we are inside,” Aloros says, his grip tightening on his sword.

“All right, lets get this done.”

We take off running for the alley and the anunnaki at its mouth let us pass into the narrow, darkened corridor. We’re silent as we follow the snaking pathway between tall buildings, darting into the shadows when we hear wings above, though the space between the structures is narrow enough that an angel’s full wingspan wouldn’t fit. Our progress is steady until we hear screams and yelling ahead, and for just a moment our footsteps slow as we glance at one another.

Then we run as fast as we can.

We make it to the courtyard where the gateway to the House of Virtues burns in the marble wall.

A group of souls in their ethereal Esagila robes run through the courtyard, braving the fire that eats through the heavy doors to run into the territory of the House of Virtues. A large incendiary follows after them and hits the wall just as the last soul makes it through to safety. Two more cannonballs quickly follow, and the wall surrounding the door falls to the ground.

We hear the marching footsteps of Nephilim soldiers as they enter the courtyard, making for the ruined gate. Screams rise on the other side. I hear children crying. Dogs barking and whining. That damn donkey braying. My heart crushes in my chest. We’re only four fighters, and I know we can’t save them.

We enter the courtyard from the shadows of the alley. I meet Ashen’s eyes and raise my weapon. This moment of time splinters around us until all that’s left is the look of resignation and determination in my husband’s eyes. He gives me a single nod. I’m ready to die at his side fighting to keep the Nephilim out of the House of Virtues, and with just one shared moment of time, we both know that however long we stand against them, it won’t be enough.

I’m about to tell him I love him when my words are swept away by another sound. And for once it sounds like hope.

“You will not pass this gate,” a familiar voice booms in layers from the other side of the fallen wall.

Through the flames I see Ediye striding toward the broken stone and burning wood, her arms raised at her sides, black orbs crackling in her palms as she readies her power. Shub Lugal soldiers march behind her, their spears pointed at the enemy.

“Shadow Realm,” Ediye calls as the two armies draw to a halt on opposite sides of the flame. “Show these fuckers the meaning of hell.”

Ediye’s black orbs fly through the flames as Zida whips past her over the fire and debris, her hiss bouncing off the stone buildings surrounding the courtyard as she takes down her first enemy. Magic rains down on the soldiers, hit after hit, striking them down one by one. The Shub Lugal run at the Nephilim, their battle cry rising around us as they pierce through armor and hit the enemy with wave after wave of aggression. Urtur lopes into view and joins Zida, tearing a wing from an traitorous angel as the snake’s fangs sink deep into his chest.

“We need to move,” Cole says, casting a final, proud glance at Ediye as he watches her wield orbs of magic, pressing the enemy back from the fallen wall. We turn and run from the battle, staying close to the edge of the courtyard as we find a connecting alley that leads back to the road to the ziggurat.

We make it onto Spes Aeterna and the road is eerily quiet on this side. We can still hear the distant fighting, but rows of anunnaki soldiers wait in utter silence here, their golden armor glinting in the dim light as their lungs fill and empty. I look up and see more soldiers on the rooftops, their bows targeting the skies. A shout comes from a building across the road and the group of angels there let their arrows fly, taking down a cohort of three enemy anunnaki who must be attempting to get behind their lines.

“Our elite army,” Aloros says as we stride past them. “The Milites Lucis.”

We continue on in silence past the rows of soldiers until we make it to the grounds of the ziggurat, and then we jog up the ramp that leads to its entrance. Guards fill the chamber and they move away to let us pass, some of them glancing at my crown, others taking in Ashen’s torn wings and the sparks that spray in his wake. Many give us grim nods of thanks.

Aloros leads us on a circuitous route through doors and corridors to a set of white marble stairs that spiral into the heart of the ziggurat. We twist deeper and deeper into the structure, and it starts to feel like it will never end. Occasionally, we pass an opening to a floor and I have the fleeting hope each one might be where we stop, but it’s not. But after what seems like an eternity, we finally make it to the end of the stairway, the landing opening to a dimly lit corridor that in turn ends at a door of shifting light and color.

Aloros places his palm to the door and the mechanism inside registers his essence, the gears whirring to life within as a series of locks release within. With a final click, the door swings open, revealing a gold wall of ticking rings and a polished lapis stone at its center. “The key of Soulfate,” Aloros says, and we enter the room.

The ticking rings shift with metronomic precision in opposite directions, the Dingir text lighting the room in a gentle glow.

“What does it mean?” Ashen asks as he takes a step closer, his gaze flicking across the room before it lands on the stone once more.

“The text? No fucking clue.”

“No,” he says. “Well yes, I guess that too. I mean the voice.”

I tilt my head, my brow scrunching. “Voice?”

Ashen looks around the room again as though searching for the source of the sound. “The whispering. It’s getting louder.”

I gasp, a smile creeping across my face as his words suddenly fall into place. “You hear whispering,” I say, and he nods. “It’s not me. It’s you, Ashen.”

“I’m not whispering,” he scoffs, his gaze darting to me and then the stone, then back again. “What?..”

“It’s you, Ashen. You are connected to the stone of Soulfate.”

Ashen laughs as though I’m crazy, but it dies off into silence as he realizes I’m dead serious. I give him a reassuring nod as the realization takes hold in his bones. “No, Lu…” he says, shaking his head. “That can’t be true.”

“Why not? You have the ability to travel to the Realm of Light, don’t you?”

“If summoned, yes—”

“Chaperoned?”

“I…well, no…but…” Ashen looks at each of us as though there’s some other explanation, running his hand through his sweaty hair, the Sumerian glyphs of his rank glowing on his knuckles. He rustles his wings, the torn snakeskin grazing the floor. The burnt edges shift against the stone, and it cracks my heart when he gestures at himself as though he’s broken. As though he’s always been broken. “No, Lu. I’m not—”

“Not what, Ashen? Worthy? Just? Fair?” I ask as I take his hand, leading him toward the stone. “Super hot in swimwear? Slightly obsessed with butter?”

Ashen snorts a laugh that quickly dies. He swallows and opens his mouth to argue but I squeeze his hand.

“I know what you are, Ashen. You’re loving. Courageous. Resilient. Honorable. You have a soul just as deserving of being chosen as anyone else that you love.”

I’m able to hear the whisper when it becomes a ribbon that snakes around the room, waving through the heights of the ceiling like a snake testing the boundaries of a cage. It spirals around us, dropping in height as it circles. “Get ready to catch it,” I say, keeping my hand wrapped around Ashen’s wrist.

The ribbon shoots toward the door, heading for the stone. Ashen grabs the end and I start chanting with the whisper, nodding to him in encouragement to do the same. Ashen repeats the Dingir incantation and I help him to wind the ribbon up his arm. Just as the rings open, I thrust his wrist forward and he grabs the stone.

We’re blasted to the floor with an unseen force as the rings slip beneath one another, opening the window to a glimpse of the domain of an ancient god.

Much like last time, the space beyond the rings is brightly lit, but instead of threads there are little sparks flashing through the room. They drift away from us with comet tails, and the nearest ones pull away to reveal a person sitting in the distance. There’s too much light to make out any more than their basic form, and it’s only a moment before the rings close once more and the entire scene is hidden from view.

“She spoke to me,” Ashen says, his voice a little awed as he looks down at the lapis stone humming in his hand. “She said ‘Ashen gud Urbigum. Rakbu shisitum. Eteru sut.’”

“I’m guessing that’s the same kind of message I was given. They’re asking for us to save them.”

Ashen meets my eyes and smiles, and despite everything, I see a little relief in him. “Then we’d better do just that. We need to get back home and regroup so we can figure out where the gateway is.” He turns toward Aloros as he places the stone into a small bag attached to my belt. “Do you have any ancient texts related to the fates that we could take with us?”

“Likely, yes,” Aloros replies, and he nods for us to follow him back out the door, shutting it behind us. The locks click into place. “I will take you to the area where they are most likely located in the library.”

We follow Aloros up several flights of the spiral staircase, and he leads us to one of the floors and down a long corridor that connects to a wide foyer through a door. When it shuts behind us, the doorway disappears into the wall, I realize that the stairs we just took must have been part of a hidden passageway system.

The foyer is bright and airy, filled with gold and white marble sculptures, and our footsteps echo across the unusual angles that follow the pitch of the slanted roof. Aloros leads us to a row of doors and holds one open for us to enter a beautiful library whose walls seem to radiate a gentle white light. The far wall is all windows, looking out toward the grasslands and the gradual lightening of dawn in the distance. The horizon is pristine, unaffected by the war that surely still rages not far beyond these walls in the city of Anur.

Aloros takes us to a section of the library where the light is dimmer and ancient leather texts and scrolls line the golden shelves. He searches the spines and pulls out anything he feels might be useful, handing a few books and several scrolls over to me and Ashen.

“Wait here,” he says when he passes a final book to the Reaper, then strides away to a series of rooms along a nearby wall, returning with a leather bag in his hand. We place the books inside and Ashen slings the strap over his shoulder. “There’s a seldom-used portal to the Living Realm about an hour’s walk from here. It will take you to Khirbat al-Mudayna in Jordan. There isn’t much close by for human civilization. Do you have any corridors near there?”

“In Amman, yes. But we can find transport,” Ashen says.

“Good. This will be the safest way for you to get out. I will show you where to go to take the path.”

“You’re not coming with us?” I ask, and Aloros gives me a smile as though the worry in my expression is unexpected but endearing.

“No, I will stay and fight for my home,” he replies.

“Me too,” Cole says as he joins by Aloros’s side. We don’t exchange words about it. We don’t have to. I don’t think I could get them past the anxiety that grips my throat in a tight fist anyway. I know this was once his home too. So, I give Cole a hug that says what I can’t, and he embraces me back with the same emotions that tighten his muscles and steal his breath.

“Stay safe, brother,” Cole says to Ashen, who can only manage a slight nod and a lingering hand on his friend’s shoulder. Ashen squeezes and then lets go, and we follow Aloros through the library until we leave Cole behind with a fleeting glance.

Aloros leads us down stairways and passages until we reach a long corridor that leaves the ziggurat. When he opens the door at the end, fresh air flows into the hallway, the scent of grasses and wildflowers a welcome change from the blood and soot that cover our clothes. “The path follows the edge of the wall between the city and the fields. It will diverge from the edges of the city and skirt the cliffs overlooking the Silver Sea,” he says, pointing in the direction of a narrow gravel trail. “Stay on the path as it drops down toward the beach. There is a small, unused gazebo close to the shore. The corridor is next to it, a simple pedestal. Just be wary, you will be exposed for much of this journey, and there are very few places to hide.”

Ashen and I nod, and I don’t even try to stop myself from giving Aloros a hug, avoiding his injured arm in the process. “Thank you, Aloros,” I whisper, and he laughs, the sound almost as enchanting as Ashen’s.

“No, thank you. Thank you both. Please, stay safe.” Aloros smiles as he backs into the hallway and he watches as we turn away, not closing the door until we’ve crested the first of the rolling meadow hills.

Ashen and I walk in silence, our hands clasped, both of us vigilant for the sounds of enemies or ambush. Nothing comes, though we hear the sounds of continued fighting in the distance within the city walls. Eventually, the path strays from Anur and the horizon of the sea comes into view. When we reach the edge of the cliffs we stop for a moment, looking out across the water.

“I wonder if they have a Hooktopus,” I say as we look at the glittering water, our hands still joined. “I think it’s totally unfair, by the way, that an angel just told you where to find your stone and I had to be dragged across the sea by some Shadow Realm monstrosity.”

Ashen laughs and I grin up at him as I take in every crinkle at the very edges of his beautiful eyes when he smiles. “To be fair, I bet the Hooktopus creature was humbler, at least. Do you really want to—”

Ashen’s grip tightens on my hand and then lets go.

He looks down at the blade that pierces through his abdomen. His eyes meet mine for only an instant, and then he’s falling from the cliff to the sound of my scream, his sword tumbling after him, another weapon still lodged through his body as he falls into the sea.

And just as I’m about to jump after him, the world goes black.