The Revelation of Gabriel Adam (32 page)

“The Ring of Solomon,” Gabe said. “I am the heir.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Septis walked under the streetlamps, making his way toward the distant gate at the end of the road. Humans lined the sidewalk, cowering in their hovels, looking desperate and in need of pity, though he had none to give. One of them approached, his arms held out begging, pleading for help. Disgusted with the creature’s presence, Septis grabbed it by the throat and snapped its spine.

The onlookers screamed, running into the night as the corpse fell to the ground, and Septis felt invigorated by the sound and knew the darkness would offer no reprieve from what hell he was about to reap upon this land.

Ahead, soldiers took notice and aimed their pathetic instruments at him, but he paid them little regard. Spotlights towering above the gate came to life, flooding the street below. Septis called to his power. Shadows fed off the night and grew strong, stealing away some of the light surrounding the buildings before flowing across the street to meet him. He reached out, and from the darkness surrounding the distant steps leading to the gates, shadows came alive and attacked the soldiers, like predators lying in wait, pouncing from the ground, their smokelike forms ripping the life from the bodies of the men.

An alarm rang out over the compound, and more humans stormed to the gates.

Septis welcomed the challenge.

They opened fire with their weapons, but the bullets did little but tear through his clothes. Septis laughed, toying with the humans, manipulating the shadows into a weapon of his own, an extension of his arms, their actions synchronized with the gestures of his hands. Through his bidding the formless creatures grabbed the men with their darkness and tossed them into the metal gates or high into the air, only to watch how they broke as they hit the ground.

Red eyes in the shadows glowed bright in anticipation, as if begging to be loosed from a chain. He waved a hand, and his pets flowed through the streets in all directions, like rivers of black water surprising the soldiers with their speed. Becoming more alive with every passing second, animal snouts and clawed legs appeared in the moving flood of darkness, without taking physical form. They roamed like dogs chasing down game, leaping from the ground to grab the fleeing humans.

Cries of death echoed throughout the street as the blood began to spill, and Septis smiled.

Though he enjoyed the sport, his determination remained on what drew him to this place. Fortitudo Dei’s presence burned here like a freshly lit candle, stronger now than he had ever felt. The boy’s powers were growing inside him, and the opportunity to quell his ability to influence control over this realm was slipping away. Septis knew that now was the time for his redemption. He would kill the boy here, along with all that stood in his way, and ready this world for the Hellgate to open for those that would claim rightful authority over Earth.

He thought of the glory that awaited. Mastema would be pleased by these accomplishments, and Septis knew he would reap a generous reward. But first, he must locate the boy. As the humans repositioned to fire upon his position, Septis animated the shadows once more. They pulled into his body, swirling around his tattered clothes, and funneled into the ground.

He closed his eyes, and the living world appeared to him, dark all around except for the church ahead. The beings swarming over the grounds appeared in his mind as weak embers, their meek glows just visible. Something ahead troubled Septis. There was a void of neither light nor dark beyond the gate, as if energy had been omitted from the world. Worse, he no longer saw Fortitudo Dei’s beacon shining.

Escaped. Again
, he thought. A fury lit inside, shaking the ground where he stood. A building by the street buckled and fell. Humans screamed as the rubble trapped some. Before he started tearing apart the town with his rage, something drew his attention. A presence, like a beacon of light, just beyond the church in the distance.

Septis opened his eyes, and his anger turned to a renewed determination. “There you are, boy.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

The ladder objected to their hurried pace with every creaking rung climbed. Light grew in the shaft as Micah reached the top of the ladder just ahead of Gabe; however, something was different. The light above seemed muted, softer than it had been before their descent. It flickered in the room as if lit by a candle.

A crackle of noise echoed from above.
Kalashnikovs
. In the distance, he could hear sporadic gunfire mixed with screams of agony.

“Hurry,” Afarôt shouted down the round opening. “Do you have it?”

“Gabe does,” she said, and he helped lift her from the ladder.

Gabe followed. His body still hurt from the experience in the ark. Before he could protest, his father grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him to his feet. As he was pulled from the shaft, the pathway folded in on itself, and soon the altar reformed, shutting off the way below.

“Are you okay?” his dad asked. “You’ve been gone hours.”

“Hours? What’s happening?” Gabe asked, seeing the black of the windows.

“The enemy has found us,” Afarôt said. “We make our stand here. Come with me, Gabriel.”

“What about me?” Micah asked.

“You are not yet ready. Stay here. Without your full powers, only the ring will stop the enemy.”

Gabe followed Afarôt through the curtain and into the night, leaving Micah and his father behind. On the road below, beyond the gates of the compound, stood the last of the soldiers, running to the aid of their fallen comrades and fighting to their deaths. Most of the refugees had managed to escape, vanished into the hills, but bodies in the compound formed a sort of path leading to the street, some in a grotesque state, contorted beyond recognition.

Gabe felt like he was on autopilot, driven into a situation for which he had no control. Hands shook, his heart beating in triples. He and Afarôt moved past the trees and toward the main gate. Gabe hoped to find some measure of hope that his new friend might enlighten him on how to use the ring, but Afarôt remained silent, wringing his hands as they approached the chaos. One thought prevailed above all others:
This is happening.

Without guidance from the Ethiopian, Gabe looked to the dull metal of the ring for a sign, anything that might give him a clue. Its jewel only looked lifeless against his finger.

The gunfire ahead began to diminish, reduced now to only a few sporadic bursts, a few flashes of light.

As they walked the short distance from the temple garden to the gate, Gabe watched the body of a soldier fly into the air, launched by an unseen force. It crashed against a building and fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, leaving a distant man standing alone in the street. He wore a black suit and overcoat, which had been torn open. Crimson lines swirled on his chest, and blue eyes fixed on the gate’s entrance.

Gabe looked at the remains of the army littering the ground, single-handedly dispatched by this man, and a crippling fear set into his mind.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Septis anticipated the delicious moment of the kill. It hung in the air like the promise of a decadent dessert.
The hunt is over
, he thought.

Two stood at the gates and two more at the small temple beyond the entrance. Besides the boy, he could feel a powerful essence coming from one in particular. The presence had not been felt since the first war between the realms, but there was no real cause for concern.

Afarôt the Healer
.

Even together, they would be unable to stand in the way. Gabriel had yet to find his true power, and the healer was a mere inconvenience
.
Septis felt encouraged, his timing perfect.

Much blood had been let. Pools of it gathered in the street, some flowing in the gutter. This pleased him.

A good place to end the light
.

The man who haunted Gabe’s visions, as real as the building storm in the darkened sky, had just stepped out of his nightmares and now waited amongst a scene worse than any of his visions had imagined. The full measure of the carnage was visible in detail. Bloodied, deformed bodies lay in crimson pools on the steps and contorted in broken piles near buildings, blood spray splattered across the walls. Weapons, useless against the enemy, lay smoking on the ground, spent to no avail. Some of the refugees lay facedown in the streets, their backs torn open. Gabe’s stomach turned at the sight of the gore. So many innocents had already perished.

I could have prevented this
, he thought and reconsidered his choice in the ark. He pushed the feeling aside, knowing that the rampage would have happened anyway.

The visions played in his mind’s eye. The burning city of New York. The death of his father.
All shall come to pass
.
Here and now
.

Afarôt walked to the top of the steps to meet the man in black.
“
Prepare yourself,” he whispered as he passed by Gabe.

“How?” Gabe asked, nearly in shock.

“You will know,” Afarôt said and then turned to the street. “It has been a long time, Septis.”

“Yes, Afarôt. Much too long,” Septis said. “Love what you’ve done with the place.” He motioned to the world around him. “Nothing like a constant state of war with which to decorate your paradise of peace and love.”

He approached a body facedown in the street and kicked it over. Blood spilled from the corpse’s mouth. Septis snarled as he wiped his dress shoe off on the dead man’s clothes. “This . . . meat doesn’t want paradise. Or peace. It wants war and destruction. Death and intolerance. Those rights are
ours
to claim. We now have title to this realm. They have chosen this; they have chosen
us
. You, most of all, should remember!
That
was the agreement.”

Gabe didn’t understand what was meant by
agreement
or why Septis acted as if he knew Afarôt.

“That was long ago,” Afarôt said. “Mankind’s mistakes do not grant you claim to this world.”

“Oh, Afarôt.” Septis laughed. “You’ll forgive us if we respectfully disagree.”

He raised his arms, hands empty as if lifting a heavy, unseen object from the ground. Suddenly, clouds grew low in the dark sky above Axum, and a buzzing sound filled the air accompanied by a vibration in the earth.

Tremors shook the ground as Gabe watched Septis strain against the unseen weight.

Around him, pockets of dirt burst from the ground, and millions of hornets streamed into the air. Septis lifted his hands high, controlling the insects as they converged into a swarm, then threw his arms forward toward Afarôt.

The hornets took after him like a guided missile.

Gabe watched, trembling as Septis used his power. Stricken with an unbearable fear, he backed away from the gates and ran toward the Temple of the Ark.

Outside the small building, Micah and his dad stood in the garden. Gabe could see terror in his father’s eyes.

He motioned to Gabe. “We need to find safety. Quickly!” He stepped toward the curtained entrance, pulling Gabe to the throne room.

But Micah did not move. Nor did her focus stray from Septis. “No, Joseph. This is our fight. Carlyle always said that if I reached down far enough, I’d discover the power inside me. If there is anyone in the streets left alive, I have to help them. You should seek cover, though. Take the ladder down to the tabernacle and seal the way behind you.”

A deep sorrow formed on his father’s face. He reached out and hugged Micah but only looked to his son.

Gabe understood. Embracing would mean acknowledging that it might be for the last time.

His dad’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Wait. The stone. Damn it. I nearly forgot. You’ll need it to complete the sword. It’s still inside.”