Rise of the Fallen (Second Death Book 3), page 5
She was brought to the head of the table where the thirteen council members she led sat gazing at her. She was indignant and silent as she stood before them, and Artimus cleared his throat to address the council.
“Really, Artimus. You didn’t shackle her? You’re losing your edge,” Elias Lauderdale snarked.
Artimus scowled, then glanced around the table. “No, Elias. It is the council who has lost. Lost our chance to defeat the Fallen. We have been led astray by the lies and deceit of Delphine Magliano.” Artimus’ cold gaze swept over the council. “You all saw the memories and knowledge of Brennan. He had verified the One and told no one, as he was instructed by Delphine. I no longer have confidence in her—and, I am sure, other members feel the same.”
Several members of the council nodded in agreement around the table. Others shook their heads.
“Led astray how, Artimus?” Elizabeth Statin asked in a croaky voice. “One could argue that Delphine’s secrecy and caution were warranted, given the stakes.”
Delphine’s heart swelled at Elizabeth’s support—she was the oldest of the council. Despite being close, Delphine chose to keep her in the dark about the One, and her support now, knowing the secret Delphine had kept from her, gave her hope.
“Need I explain it? She plotted to hide the Chosen One with the priest and the drunk in New York,” he said derisively. “The prophecy had begun to unfold. The One had been identified. And she instructed Brennan to keep it a secret.” He gazed at the members of the council, his eyes burning with contempt. “You all saw what I saw in his memories, did you not? This is outrageous—this will be the death of us all!”
“What I saw,” said Elias, “was a plan to keep the One hidden and to train him. What I don’t understand are the motivations behind this plan. Why was the One not brought here, Delphine?”
Delphine drew in a breath. “If I may, members of the Council, please hear—”
“You may not!” Artimus said with reproach, cutting her off. “Instead of bringing him here, you have left him in the care of an alcoholic burnout in New York, with no protection and no guidance other than a priest who has since been killed by a madman and his demon horde!”
Delphine’s eyes burned with ire, yet she held her tongue for the moment, letting Artimus continue his exuberant rant.
Artimus turned his gaze back to the members of the council, throwing his hands in the air. “She has kept all of this from us. She has broken the trust of the council. She has forsaken humanity.”
Artimus turned back to Delphine and raised his right hand to the sky, exposing his flabby old skin, which flapped with his dramatic gestures. He glared at her. “And, I believe, she has acted in alliance with Fallen.”
Several members of the Council gasped. “Conspiracy theories, Artimus? Is this what you have brought us together for?” Elias said, slamming his fist on the table. “How dare you make such an unfounded accusation! It calls into question your motivations. Delphine has been a loyal leader of the Council of Watchers for decades. What evidence do you have of her treachery?” Artimus did not move to speak, and Elias nodded his head. “None, I say! There are no words for these kinds of careless accusations being thrown around about one of our own. I should—”
“You should what?” Artimus argued. “Has she not deceived the council as to the events of the prophecy unfolding? Has she not entrusted the fate of humanity to a drunk? Does this not bring into question her motivations? Her character? Her judgment?” Artimus lowered his voice down to an accusatory growl. “You should be standing here beside me, Elias. You should be with me in this vote of no confidence.”
“I have every confidence in Madam Magliano,” another councilmember, Thibault, said. “Though I do have questions.” He cast his green eyes directly on Delphine and lifted his pointy nose at her. “Why, madam, have you kept all of this to yourself? Why have you acted alone on such an important matter?”
Delphine straightened herself in her chair. “If I may have a moment to respond,” she said, glaring at Artimus, “I have kept my actions secret to protect the One. The prophecy is vague, and the fate of the world is in our hands. I have taken the steps I believe necessary to keep the One safe and to defeat the Fallen. He is not, nor was he ever, alone—he is being trained by Frank Bishop and Rowan McLaren, two of the finest warriors we have.”
“But you realize you have put us in a precarious position?” Elizabeth said. “We cannot simply discard Artimus’ accusations. Your actions have brought suspicion on yourself.”
The council all stared at Delphine and she could feel the weight of their concerns on her. Perhaps I should have entrusted the council. Perhaps I should have been more inclusive in my plans. She sighed tiredly. But it went against her instincts to do so. She had no proof, no evidence, but she was sure there was a traitor among them, and her instincts had always served her well.
“As I said, the prophecy is vague and open to interpretation,” Delphine repeated. “There is no guide. There are no instructions.” She took a deep breath. “The Harbinger came to me in the Dreamlands. She told me… She told me that there was a traitor among us.” Some councilmembers gasped; others raised their eyebrows, their eyes widening slightly. Artimus, however, did not move or make a sound. “And so, I acted accordingly—in secret. But those secrets died with Father Brennan, and now I ask you to join me. Join me in going into battle to fight against the Fallen’s rise!” she said, a sudden fire in her voice. “With or without you, tonight I leave this place. I leave these cold stone walls where our voices echo hollow against the forces of evil that invade the land of the living. Tonight, I leave the council and I go to America, to the desert, to fight! To stop the impending doom of this realm and prevent the world from returning to the chaos and evil it once knew millennia ago!”
“The prophecy is unequivocal!” Artimus hissed. “The battle against the Fallen will take place not in America, but in what was once Mesopotamia.”
Delphine struck the table with her fist. “Nowhere does The Book of Razmus proclaim the conflict between the Watchers and the Fallen will occur in a specific place, at a specific time. You are wrong, Artimus. The Fallen are on the precipice of returning to the Earth to reclaim the land of the living and to destroy what we have sworn to protect. Join me! Come with me now! Only together can we defeat the Fallen. Only together can we save this world from the Leech of the Aeons!”
Artimus’ eyes bulged. “You will—” But he was cut off as the doors to the council meeting room were thrust open.
Seven men in brown robes and hoods, their faces hidden in shadow, filed into the room behind Delphine. One man stepped forward and raised his chin.
“The Protectorate will join you, Delphine Magliano,” the man said.
The room was dead silent. All eyes went to the robed men.
Delphine scanned the faces in the room. “Join us,” she pleaded.
The pause grew and grew, and with it, Delphine’s hope began to fade. Was there no one with her? Was she in this fight alone? Had she lost their trust by not including them in her plans with Brennan?
Then Elias Lauderdale stood. “I am with you,” he said.
Thibault stood as well. “I, too, will join you,” he said.
Elizabeth Statin sighed, her eyes down. “Too long we have remained behind these walls debating, studying, talking among ourselves…” She looked up, vigor returning to her frail form. “It is time to take action. I am old, but I still have some fight in me!” She stood slowly, leaning on the table. Pursing her lips, she glanced at Delphine and nodded sharply. “I fight.”
“You are fools,” Artimus said. Then he sighed and raised his chin to them. “So be it, then. We fight,” he said begrudgingly.
The remaining members of the council stood and all agreed they would join her in the fight against the Fallen. It was more than Delphine could have hoped for—yet her suspicions still remained, and she was careful to keep a wary eye on all of them.
“So be it,” she said, nodding to them all. “We leave tonight.”
9
JACK
Dreamlands
Jack was surrounded by darkness. He felt like he was floating; he couldn’t feel or see anything.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” he called out. His voice echoed into the emptiness and then faded away.
Then a voice, one that seemed to come from all around him, replied. “It’s your turn now, Jack.”
The voice was warm and comfortable, deep and wise, like a grandfather’s, and it filled the emptiness around him.
“What turn? Who are you? Where are you?”
Jack sensed a great loving presence surround him. It was kind and compassionate; pure and holy. An image filled Jack’s mind, and then he was there…
…under an oak tree in a field of tall grass and wildflowers, sitting in the warmth of the afternoon sun. The field was bathed in golden light, and a light breeze drifted across it, bending the tall grass gracefully. Insects buzzed and hummed, birds trilled, and life was abundant.
Jack leaned back and rested comfortably against a thick oak tree in the center of the field. He tangled his toes in the thick bed of grass beneath him, and felt the presence of the Creator all around him.
“It’s your turn to lead the fight against the Fallen. They’re rising again.”
Jack shook his head. The thought of leading anything made him uneasy. He felt…inadequate. Regardless, many questions sprung to his mind.
“Why?” Jack asked. “Why are they coming? Why do they hate us so much?”
“I never asked any of them,” the voice said with a hint of humor. “But it seems they hate you—and Me—because they are envious and greedy of your station. They are unhappy with their role in the Universe. Maybe you can find out more and tell me when you come back.” Jack again picked up a wry sense of humor in the remark, but he didn’t find it funny.
Jack stared at a blade of grass as it danced in the warm breeze, deep in thought, before continuing.
“What are they envious of?” Jack asked. “What do humans have that they don’t?”
“They feel like humans are better in certain ways.” The voice paused. “You’re not better—just different. Everything I have created has its place in the Universe: the grass, the bee, bacteria, the stars—and even I have a purpose according to the laws of the Universe.
“I created the Celestials for many reasons. Some are guardians. Some are communicators. All are compelled to serve the greater force of good in the Universe — the light energy that permeates all living things. The Celestials are supposed to protect and serve that energy. That’s their role. If they choose to reject that role and serve the darker forces of the Universe, there are consequences. And they only get one choice. If they choose to serve the darkness, there’s no going back. What’s done cannot be undone.
“The darkness corrupts them. It turns them into what you may consider to be monsters. They fall to the Earth looking to feed the dark energy they serve.” The voice from the tree paused. “It’s how things work, Jack. But what matters is defeating them.”
Jack felt his mouth hang open. This was overwhelming, and this information begged more questions than it answered. “Why me? Why not you?” Jack asked. “Why can’t you just…kill them?”
“I am a Creator, not a Destroyer. I cannot use my power directly to kill anything I create.”
Jack tilted his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“For now, know this: some of the Fallen can be killed. Some cannot, and those that cannot must be imprisoned.
“And you can kill her. She is one with the Heart of Darkness. He changed her, almost completely, but she still has some humanity in her, and therefore she can die…for now.”
“Who are they? And why is he with her?”
“He was Nasriel, a powerful Celestial I charged with protecting humanity. He lusted after you instead, and now he is called Nalsuu, the Leech of the Aeons.” The voice paused again.
“But there is no going back for him. He fell, like the others before and after him. He was envious of what you have, Jack—he lusted after humanity’s ability to get closer to each other and to create more of themselves. He was never happy with his place in the Universe. Envy, greed, and lust corrupted him. He fell trying to fulfill that lust, but the only thing he found was a lust for death and the ability to create monstrosities and corruption. And she fell for him. She’s with him now…and she lusts with him.”
“I don’t understand. What does he want from me? Who is she? Who’s with him?”
“The girl, Jessie. The one that Frank has been chasing. She’s with him—she is his, and he is hers. They need each other.”
“He needs her how?” Jack was still puzzled, and things weren’t getting much clearer.
“He needs her to escape the Second Death. He wants to reshape the ways of the Universe, wants to put himself at the top and change the balance of things—but to do so, he must escape his prison.” The voice became warm, and softly encouraging in its certainty. “But he won’t, because you’re going to stop him. Like Razmus stopped Kuriel.”
Jack took it all in—and it was a lot. What was clear to him was there was a lot he didn’t know and that he would only get what he needed to know right now, most likely, so he continued to listen.
“You have other problems too, sorry to say. Legion has been unleashed. It, too, must be banished—even I do not know what it may be capable of.”
“How? How do I…do I kill them? I’m just a kid,” he said, his voice shaking.
"Don’t be afraid, Jack. I won’t abandon you. I will send help, and others will willingly help you too. There are those who will sacrifice for you, those you will sacrifice for, and those you will help and bestow great gifts upon.”
“Frank,” Jack said, beginning to understand.
“Yes. Your mentor, Frank. He helps you and others. He is tortured by his past, and only you can help him.”
Jack started to question again, but the voice cut him off.
“You will know more when the time comes. I will give you the power and the knowledge you need to defeat the Fallen. The rest is up to you. Do you accept?”
Jack felt the call of his ancestral blood, and suddenly, unbidden, the words of Razmus came to his tongue: “Your will is my law.”
Upon speaking the words and accepting his fate, a light came down from the sky and struck him—and as it moved through his body, he heard the Creator’s voice.
“Have faith, Jack. I am now with you. The light of the Universe—My light – is within you now. And I am sending you my greatest warrior. Believe…”
Temple of the Watchers, Hudson Highlands
Jack sat up in bed, and the room spun. A stench hit him and he sneezed. Cigarettes, he thought. He rubbed his eyes and leaned forward, squinting at the figure sitting on the chair next to the doorway.
“Welcome back, kid,” Frank said.
“Put that out,” he said, irritated. “I can’t breathe.”
He watched Frank pull long on the cigarette, drop it to his feet, and stamp it out with his boot.
“How are you feeling?” Frank asked through the smoke that clouded around him.
Jack coughed, narrowed his eyes slightly, and then nodded his head. “I’m okay, I guess. How long have I been here—in bed, I mean?”
“A couple of days. It was Brennan’s Last Breath. Knocked you out.” Frank exhaled. “He’s dead.”
Jack blanched. “I…I know. I…saw his mind…and everything that happened.”
“Yeah. You get used to it.”
Jack stiffened in the bed.
“Legion. He’s in New York. My mom—she’s going to be killed. We have to go! We have—”
“Easy, kid! You’ve been out of it for a couple of days now. Take it slow.”
Jack rolled his feet onto the floor and stood up too quickly. Falling back, he caught hold of the headboard and lowered himself down slowly. Frank moved to his side.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you some water. We can figure out our next move when you’re more awake. Your brother is going to want to see you.”
Jack leaned on Frank, steadying himself, and together they walked out of the bedroom…the images and words of Razmus rolling around his mind.
“We need to contact the council,” Rowan said. “It’s what Brennan would do.”
“Brennan’s dead,” Frank said flatly. “The council is there—we’re here. They know what we know. We need to go to New York, now. We can contact them on the way.”
Rowan rubbed his whiskery chin.
“What about the girl? Shouldn’t we go find her?” Rowan asked.
“She’ll turn up,” Frank said. “Meantime, we can kill one of those bastards and save some people.” Frank’s eyes grew intense. “Jack and Nic’s mother is in New York. So’s mine.”
Rowan nodded and looked away. He looked like he was still turning it over in his head.
“We’re going,” Jack said. The others turned to look at him, surprised. “I know what I—what we need to do. We need to save mom. Then we get the girl…and him.”
“Him?” Frank asked.
“You know,” Jack said. “The one in our dreams. Nalsuu—the giant purple-black heart. She’s with him.”
Frank blinked. “Jessie is with him? How do you know?”
Jack stared at Frank, wondering if he should tell him about his dream and what the Creator had said to him—but he decided to hold off. For now.
“I just know,” he said simply. “Have faith. I know what I’m doing.”
Frank stared back at him, his expression unreadable, before nodding slowly.
“I trust you, kid. Brennan did, and that’s good enough for me.”
