Authors: Lynnie Purcell
She looked back at me, her milky white eyes reflecting a promise to find Daniel. She inhaled deeply, taking in Daniel’s scent, then took off running. She jumped across the buildings and made her way north without any hesitation.
As soon as she was gone, I leaned against the outside wall of the cave and sighed. I touched my necklace, wondering at the voice I had heard. Where had the warning to move come from? And why had both voices sounded so familiar? When my hand connected to the diamond, I heard the voice for a second time.
It is settled.
The words left me with a strange feeling of regret.
Chapter 19
“What just happened?” Reaper asked around the strange voice and the regret in my gut.
“I’m not really sure,” I admitted.
I felt a sharp pain in my body at my words. I looked down and realized the daggers were still in my stomach and legs. The adrenaline was gone. I had nothing but pain.
“Was that Daniel?” Reaper asked me.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Did you change him?” he asked.
That part was confusing me. Daniel had been gone. My blood had changed him, but I was not sure that I had brought him back. The voices convinced me I had not been responsible.
“I think so…” I said. “But he was gone…I don’t know what brought him back.”
“And you think Alex will catch him?” Reaper asked.
I pulled the daggers out of my stomach and leg. Reaper flinched as I did. It was as if he could feel my pain. I threw the knives to the ground and looked up at him. He looked surprised by my casual way of pulling out the knives.
“Yes,” I replied.
I focused on Reaper’s face. I realized that it was strange that he and the others had come to find us. I could tell from the position of the sun, only a half hour had passed since we had arrived. Reaper had not expected us back for hours. I ignored the expression on his face and focused on the question.
“What are you doing here anyways?” I asked.
“Alex was in a panic,” Reaper replied. “She said she felt something was wrong. We had to find you…so we did. The others wouldn’t be left behind.”
“Oh,” I said.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the others were listening in on our conversation. I gestured for them to join us. Their stares were strangely fearful. I was not sure where the fear came from. I was not eager to ask.
“Daniel died…” Jackson said. “I should have been here to protect him.”
“It was my fault,” Serenity added. “I thought if I followed Odette’s orders, followed you to New York, I would prevent everything that is happening now. I would prevent the explosions, the chaos…everything. I was wrong. I should have told you, so you could be prepared.”
“No, it’s my fault,” Spider said. “Odette told me he would die, and I did nothing to prevent it.”
We all stared at him. Our expressions demanded an explanation. Spider gave in to the explanation.
“When I met with her in private, Odette told me that Daniel was my brother,” Spider said. “In the same breath she said I would lose a brother before the fight with Marcus was through.”
“Daniel’s your brother?” I asked.
“According to her,” Spider replied.
“I thought you knew your father,” I said.
“He must have lied…or else my mother did,” Spider said. “Odette said she had no doubt. I’ve been around a lot of liars, and I could tell she was telling the truth.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.
“I was afraid he would hate me,” Spider said. “It’s not exactly an easy thing to hear that one of your parents got busy with another woman a hundred years after abandoning you to the streets.”
His eyes flicked to Eli for another explanation. Spider had been afraid that Daniel would choose to abandon him, as Eli had abandoned all of the kids. He was afraid to put his emotions out there and trust in a brother for the second time.
“He would never hate you,” I said. “Daniel isn’t like that.”
Spider’s face was dominated by guilt.
“He might now,” Spider said. “I should have warned him.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “Warning him wouldn’t have stopped him from continuing to fight. He wouldn’t have taken the warning seriously, considering it originated with Odette.”
“I…” Spider’s voice trailed away.
I knew it would take more than my words to convince him of the truth. Daniel and Spider would have to talk…when Alex caught him.
“Where did the historian go?” I asked after a brief pause of silence in which we all tried to come to terms with the present state of events. “Did she leave?”
It wouldn’t surprise me if she had. She was so strange, so hard to get a read on. She made her own path and being attacked might have made her feel as if it was time to move on from the home she had formed. She survived by knowing when it was time to leave.
“I didn’t see her come out,” Reaper said.
That didn’t mean much. She could have easily gotten around him without being seen.
“I am here,” the historian said.
I turned back. She was framed by the entrance of the cave. She had the sword I had brought her in one hand and a high-powered rifle in the other. The expression on her face was one of cold anger. My eyes lingered on the weapons.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
She thought carefully about her response before she replied.
“I must admit that I have justified many things under the guise of wanting peace and quiet. I have stayed here in the shadows, killing any who would dare seek me out. The truth is that I have hidden from my duties for far too long. The time now is to fight. I had worried you were not the proper side to stand on. I trained you in hope that I would figure out your true nature. I have, and I wish to join your fight. And I wish to give you something to help you in your cause.”
“What?” I asked.
The historian gestured us to follow her. She moved to the side of the cave where her books were kept, only the wall was no longer there. It was pushed to the side and a dark cavern filled the space. I stepped closer and saw that the cavern was a hundred times the size of her living space. Inside was a large collection of swords and armor. They were all made of silver. Their glittering ranks were highlighted by torches spaced at regular intervals. I felt my jaw drop. Where had she gotten so many weapons?
“You did not think I lived in a mine for the scenery, did you?” the historian asked me. “I wanted the silver to make weapons. I knew this day would come.”
It was proof she had been more prepared for my arrival than I had thought. It was possible she had let me live, knowing who I was and what it meant for the future. The historian always took the long view – she had no choice when her world was so dominated by history. That fact resonated. I remembered the picture we had found in my house and the fact that I had not gotten the chance to show it to her. It was question she might be able to answer.
“Do you know why Marcus came to you really?” I asked. “Do you know what he is hunting?”
“Beyond you?” the historian replied.
“Yes,” I said.
Her multi-colored eyes were strangely afraid.
“A sword,” she replied.
“What does it do?” I asked.
She sighed. Her expression had turned enigmatic.
“Everything,” the historian replied.
“Care to be more specific?” I asked.
“The sword was forged out of the pit of hell with the blood of one of the holiest of angels. It grants the owner eternal life, power, and control over the very fabric of the world. Its powers go beyond that. It was hidden after the first unmaking by your ancestors. This was centuries even before Farrah was born. It was always her task to protect it from the world. It was something that not even her brothers knew about.”
“Why not destroy it?” I asked.
“Fear,” the historian replied. “The sword is not a typical sword. It gets in to your mind. The darkness it contains is strong. It was forged from the death of an angel. Its desire to unmake is stronger. Too, no one has discovered the truth of destroying it. Destroying it is not as easy as creating it.”
I was irritated.
“Wait – so, what you are saying is that Marcus has spent years hunting me down just for a sword?” I asked.
“You misunderstand the purpose of the sword. You are thinking of it in too literal a way,” the historian said. “Have you ever heard of the legend of Gog and Magog?”
“No…” I said.
“There are many versions of the pair, but the truth is that they are words used to describe the two sides of the unmaking. The sword is known as Gog and the being that controls it is called Magog. When the sword has a welder, they become fused as one being – a being focused on unraveling the world as we know it. The bearer is granted unlimited power for helping the sword with its ultimate purpose.”
“He would have to know where the sword was buried though, right?” I asked. “You said it has been centuries…”
The historian nodded in agreement.
“He would have to know where it is buried…and he does. My advice helped him unlock the truth. Marcus went to Israel to uncover Farrah’s city. It was covered in the flood, but it has not been destroyed. The sword is there…waiting.”
“The sword can only be unlocked by Clare,” Reaper said. “So why dig to it if he can’t get it out?”
The historian sighed – she was fully aware of how I would take the next piece of information.
“The stories say that the sword responds to war and death,” the historian said. “It seeks the light in such troubled times. Marcus seeks to draw it out with the chaos and the fear that is spreading. I can feel it working. The sword is waking up.”
“So, instead of using me to get it out, he is trying to use murder and mayhem to ‘wake it up’?” I asked.
“Yes,” the historian replied. “And he will succeed. You should also know that it does not strictly say that a Michaels with Watcher blood has to get the sword out. Anyone of your bloodline will do. With the sword seeking light, a lesser being would work.”
“I’m glad I got Ellen when I did, then,” I replied. “He won’t be able to use her.”
“But why would Marcus stay so focused on Clare if that was the case?” Jackson asked. “If any Michael would do, why not just use her grandfather to get it out?”
“There are many reasons,” the historian replied. “Odette’s prophecy is one reason. And because Clare has moved beyond the prophecy – she is evolution of our kind. She can change Watchers – she moved beyond the limitation of all the expectations. He would not be able to resist that. With Clare’s help, he could overcome even the sword’s pull. He could master…everything.”
“Is that the real reason Cobb wanted my blood?” I asked. “Because they thought it would help him get the sword out?”
“It is possible,” the historian replied. “Or else they were seeking to see what you were capable of.”
“Do you know how long we have until all his chaos works and the sword wakes up from its nap?” I asked.
“Not long,” the historian said. “People’s fear is palpable. We all respond to it. The sword even more so.”
“We should move quickly then,” Reaper said. “We should attack Marcus as soon as we can.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Reaper looked at the historian.
“These weapons will help,” Reaper told the historian. “And we are, of course, honored you would choice to join us in the fight.”
The historian nodded politely. Reaper was still all business.
“Sara should be back in an hour to pick us up. I’ll have her and Shawn start ferrying these swords to our camp.”
“I’m going to keep an eye out for Daniel and Alex,” I said.
Reaper nodded. He had expected as much. He started giving the others orders; I saw his mind working overtime to come to terms with the information the historian had given us.
We finally had an explanation for Marcus’ actions. We knew what he was after, and why he was determined to spread chaos. The virus, the fear...it all held a larger purpose: The sword. Marcus was letting the sword respond to the destruction, to make his task of getting it easier. There was nothing left but the act of attacking Marcus.
As I left, the historian moved over to the white rose that had fallen during the fight. She bent down and picked up one of the petals, a curious expression of understanding dominating her face. Her hands then moved to the red diamonds I had cried when I had lost Daniel – two beautiful, sad, reminders of my time of woe.
Spider followed me out of the cave. I accepted his company without comment. We walked back down the trail to the house we had repaired. Spider had trouble in the snow, but my hand on his elbow kept him from falling. We sat on the steps of the porch and waited for signs of Alex and Daniel’s return. It took me a moment to realize that Spider was shivering in the cold. Not feeling the cold made me forget he could still feel it. Remembering our belongings in the house, I went inside to get him a coat. I grabbed one from his room then went to the room I had shared with Daniel. It was dark and cold but my things were still there. The guitar was in the corner, the book was on the bed. A duffle bag of both Daniel and my clothes sat in the corner, messy and unkempt. I grabbed the book and the guitar, as well as the clothes and moved to Alex’s room. I grabbed her bag of clothes as well, knowing she would need them when she got back. I took all of our things downstairs and sat them on the porch next to Spider. Spider pulled on the jacket gratefully and tucked his hands under his armpits to keep them warm.