The Nephilim: Book One (12 page)

He grit his teeth and looked away
from her, “Ah, no. A soul can sustain for eternity in the resting places, but
if he doesn’t make it there and expels everything here, he’ll cease to exist.”

Sophie let the suggestion sink in.
“But you said souls are eternal.”

“They’re supposed to be, and none
of us knows what happens to those who burn themselves up, but none have been
recovered after, to my knowledge. I went on a few soul collecting missions in
the past, and when they refuse to go to rest it is a terrible thing to see. The
others say that the soul becomes stuck in that moment of death, trapped
forever. They say if you visit the site where it happened, you can feel their
pain going on for eternity.”

“I don’t want that to happen to
Eric.”

“No,” Adam shook his head, “No one
would.”

A crash came from the front of the
house, and both Sophie and Verrine were instantly on their feet. Adam rushed
ahead of them into the room and Sophie followed close behind to see Mona
stumbling in through the door. Sophie’s clothing was loose on her, making her
look even more disheveled than she was, and blood painted her neck and hands.
Her face, however, showed no signs of debilitation, “We have to go.”

“Did they follow you?” Verrine ran
past her and to the open door, thrusting her head out.

“I don’t think so, it was only Michael,
but he said they took it somewhere far away.” Her breathing slowed and she
gathered herself, wiping her hands off on the jeans.

Verrine came back inside, “To do
what? Only Sophie is supposed to be able to read that book.”

“You used it, didn’t you?” Mona
spat out, then turned to Sophie and Adam, “I don’t really know what they plan
to do, but I think they’ve taken it to Apollyon.”

“Apollyon?” Adam thrust his hands
out in front of him, “The angel Apollyon?”

Mona opened her eyes wide at him
and nodded curtly, “Yeah, that’s what I said. So it’d be wise if we got on with
it. At best it will take them a little while to figure out how to use the book
before they come for Sophie, and at worst they’ll resurrect Agrippa and we’ll
have a whole new problem.”

Adam peered upward and thought
aloud, "Well, then, should we go to Meririm, and have a fleet set out for
the book?"

Verrine nodded solemnly, “I hoped
we could return with the book and Sophie, but that doesn’t seem possible. I
think we need to prepare for the worst.”

Chapter 11

Sophie stepped through the tear
Verrine had made with her own dagger. Adam was close behind her, he always
seemed to be, not that she minded, and Mona hopped through last just before the
crack sealed itself. As her eyes adjusted, she rubbed at them, sure what she
was seeing could not be real. She looked down at her bare feet, they hadn’t
bothered to change before they left and Mona’s shoes hadn’t fit her, and
wiggled her toes. They sunk pleasantly into the soft, red sand, and the grains
sparkled. The beach went on, flat and unending to either side of them, only
broken by scattered groupings of rocks. Behind them the sand continued for a
few yards and then was enveloped by swirling gray mists like those on the
Transcendental Plane. Ahead, it lead out to water that met the sky, both black
as night, the horizon only distinguishable by lapping waves and a thin veil of
mist. A crooked dock led off from the beach, serpentining into the water, at
its end a long, thin boat and a pale, flickering light.

Verrine was leading them to the
dock, speaking over her shoulder, “We have to take the river, it’s the only way
in or out of Hell. They used to use it to keep us out,” she chuckled lightly to
herself, “Just don’t touch the water.”

The others nodded, but Sophie
questioned, “What happens when you touch the water?”

“You will burst into flames and die
and your soul will be trapped beneath the waves forever,” Verrine answered with
a sweet lilt.

Sophie shot a worried look at Adam.
He shook his head, “No. I don’t think your soul gets trapped in there forever.”
She sighed, placing a hand on her chest. “But you will burst into flames and
die.”

Sophie tiptoed down the dock after
that, paying careful attention to the water that lapped at the edges of the
crumbling wood. When they came to the end, they found a hooded figure sitting
patiently in the boat. All that peaked out from his heavy, black cloak were
withered hands with long, slender fingers and knobby knuckles, the skin gray
and fading. It held out an open, cracked palm toward them.

“Who’s this?” Mona asked
hesitantly.

“A ferryman,” Verrine knelt down to
him, drawing a symbol on his palm with her finger, “They’re deaf and blind and
the only ones who can navigate the river. Thankfully, they have no allegiance
to anyone, just to obols.” She held up a silver coin to show them, then placed
it in his outstretched hand which he tucked into his cloak. He lifted a long
pole from the boat and dipped it into the water, then waited for them.

Verrine was in first and reached
out a hand to steady Sophie. She felt Adam’s hands on her back, just slightly,
as she stepped in and looked back at him. He pulled away immediately and
averted his eyes, instead offering a hand to Mona who only looked at him
sidelong, snorted, and jumped in on her own.

The ferryman pushed them away from
the dock with his pole and they cut through the haze into the open water. Soon
the dock disappeared into the gentle mist that hung over the bank, and they
found themselves drifting in open water with just the dim light of the
ferryman’s torch illuminating their boat.

Sophie looked out over both sides,
but the river seemed to go on forever. She pressed herself down into the wooden
hull, wary of the splashing waters, and focused instead across the boat on
Mona’s face. The girl, the strigori, she reminded herself, had been staring at
her. "That could have been you," she whispered, her eyes heavy and
sad. Before Sophie could ask what she meant, Mona turned to the black waters
and sighed, “Sophie I'm so sorry.”

“Mona, no, you don't have to say
anything. I understand.” She shook her head. She knew the strigori had been
given a task, and it was her change of heart that really mattered.

“No, you don't. You don't even know
why I'm sorry,” Mona looked back at her, and Sophie noticed something in her
face had changed. Mona. of course, always looked young with rounder features, a
small nose, large eyes, but now something in her face screamed age, and she
looked tired. "I used to really hate you. And it had nothing to do with
you being a demon. It was really childish," she laughed slightly under her
breath, "But what else would you expect from a child, right?" Her
voice had lost its usual harsh tone, "Of course, I'm not fifteen. I never
really was, but I’m physically stuck at that moment in time, in that body.

“They changed me almost seventy
years ago,” she spoke as though she were realizing for the first time, “I was
part of a project with children. When some humans are changed they develop
special powers. There’s a sweet spot somewhere in the early teens for that, and
I was one of the few lucky enough to get something a little extra special, but
others, well, the strigori venom has a different effect, speeds up the aging
process and just kills them. My little sister wasn’t as lucky as I was.”

“Mona,” Sophie reached out and put
a hand on her arm.

“She didn’t die,” Mona stared off
into the waters again, “She would have, but they preserved her. Said if I
helped them they could wake her up. It didn’t matter that they’d killed my
parents then, only that I could get my sister back. I saw her body a few times,
I held onto that, but I never connected with anyone like I did with Michael. 
He helped me and treated me differently, like a friend. I liked that. Then when
I knew what his role would be with you, I got jealous. I hated you. It made
things a lot easier,” she laughed and wiped at her face, “but it didn’t last
because you had to go and be nice to me, treat me like I was your family. You
reminded me of Mary. Sophie, I'm sorry this had to happen to you," Mona
broke her gaze from the water and looked back to her friend, "And I'm
sorry I was part of it."

"Mona, don't-"

"No, you don't
understand," Mona's eyes became glassy and her words ran together,
"You could have been changed. When we planned for Michael to bite you, we
hoped it would bring out your true self, your buried soul, but you could have
become a demon, stayed human, or you could have been turned into a strigori.
There is no worse fate, Sophie. Strigori pretend they’re immortal, and to
humans, yeah, we seem like it, but the truth is we can't
allow
ourselves
to die. Every creature has a survival instinct, but none is so strong as the
strigori's. Every being's existence is dependent on their soul, but a
strigori's soul is not their own. When we bite, we can feed, we can poison, we
can kill, and we can change. The bite that changes takes the victim to the edge
of death, then, just before pushing them over, takes away a small part of their
soul and replaces it with...this,” she held out her hands, “But if I die, I
won’t have an intact soul. I shouldn’t have made that a possibility for you.”

“You’ve never changed anyone?”
Verrine’s voice drifted back from the front of the boat.

Mona was solemn and closed her
eyes, “No.”

The boat lurched as it connected
with a dock. The structure had emerged from nowhere, but as the other was
twisted and old, this stood healthy and straight, climbing from the waters with
an ancient elegance. Their vessel was dwarfed by its size, an edifice clearly
made for much larger ships, but did have a small ramp that jutted off its side
for small passenger boats. They disembarked and followed the dock, this time
with no fear of lapping waters.

Stepping onto the bank, Sophie
again admired the ginger sand against the black waters, sparkling despite being
beneath a sun and moonless sky. Set off from the bank ahead of them ran a white
stone wall, at its center a tall, arching gateway.

“A little more desolate than
normal?” Adam questioned as they traveled to the archway.

Verrine nodded gravely, “I don’t
like the looks of it. I’ve never seen it like this before.”

The archway poured up into the sky,
pale and twisted, and as they moved closer, Sophie could make out figures on
the gates, bodies ranging from a few inches to a few feet in height, twisting
and climbing upward, some jutting out from the stone and others shrinking back
into it. They looked almost like they moved and Sophie wanted to touch them,
but what lay at the center of the arch made her stop. In the space between she
expected whatever was hidden beyond the wall to be revealed, but instead there
was only blackness, an abyss.

"All right, you three,"
Verrine stood before the black void and addressed them, "Keep in mind that
none of your kind, any of you, are technically welcome here, so just,” she eyed
Mona, “behave.” She pressed her hand against the gate and whispered in an
unknown tongue then turned back to them, “This will take us directly into the
hall. I don’t need a horde of guards falling on us because I’ve got strangers
with me. Now come on,” she gave them a little smile and stepped into the
blackness, disappearing as she went, and the three followed suit.

Inside was immense. A fire burned
in a tall cylinder in the room's center and the flames licked at the
immeasurably high ceiling, casting a warm glow on the entire room. Cool gray,
circular walls made up the large foyer and a separate circle of large stones
bordered the flame. A set of wooden doors lay closed on the opposing side of
the fire and on either side of the doors staircases gently curved inward to a
shared landing above. Sophie's heart ceased pounding and her shoulders slumped,
she hadn't even known she was so tense. But Verrine didn't allow them much time
to gawk at the grand foyer and hurried around the fire. Adam followed,
uninterested, and Mona seemed too anxious to linger.

"So," Sophie spoke with
her voice low despite that they were alone, "this is really Hell?"

Verrine turned to her with a smile,
"Yes and no. Not what a human would perceive as Hell anyway. There are
seven realms to Hell, just like Heaven. There haven’t always been, but as
demons have evolved, we’ve had to make the place suit our needs. We’re in the
third realm now where your parents govern.”

Sophie’s nerves rattled. She would
meet them, here, and she had no time to prepare. She wanted to yell to Verrine
to stop, not open the door. She just wanted to stand here for a moment and
breathe. Maybe forever. But instead, Verrine walked through the passage with
such purpose the others had to follow.

“Lady Verrine!” the high-pitched
voice was full of as much tension as it was excitement and was paired with the
sound of feet slapping hard and fast on the stone floor, “Thanks be to the
night! The alarm had been raised, and I could only hope it was one of you.
Please tell me you haven’t arrived alone!”

The creature was short in stature,
maybe two and a half feet tall, and very round, yet he moved quite swiftly
toward them. His tail, at least as long as his body, slashed behind him as he
went and his black, leathery skin glistened in the light of the flames that
lined the walls. He came to a sharp stop at Verrine’s feet and stared up at her
with bulbous eyes, waiting and tapping his foot, “Well?”

“And hello to you too, Thanatos.”
Verrine crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, “Clearly I’m not alone. Now
where are—”

She was silenced by the creature as
he raised a hand to her, his enormous, misty eyes secured on Sophie. She stared
back at him, amazed at the inhumanness of the little critter. He opened his
mouth, more a snout really, and whistled, “By Michael’s feathers can it really
be?”

“Oh,” Verrine scratched her head
awkwardly, “Thanatos would recognize you, wouldn’t he?”

“Then it is?” the creature
expectantly ping ponged his head from one to the other.

“Yeah,” a satisfied smile took over
Verrine’s face, “It is.”

“Your Highness,” he dropped to one
knee and bowed his head.

“Oh, no, no,” Sophie nervously
looked around at the others as she motioned at the little being, “Don’t do
that. That’s weird.”

“Your Highness?” he wobbled for a
moment between kneeling and standing, coming back up to his full height at the
urgency with which she motioned to him.

“Ah, yeah,” Verrine poked his
shoulder, “Soph is a human now so she’s not used to...all this,” the woman
gestured to the room.

Thanatos narrowed his eyes, “Human?
How?”

“It’s probably a long and
complicated story that we don’t have time for right now,” Verrine shrugged,
“Now what I need to know—”

“My Lady?” a soft, feminine voice
sounded from the other end of the room. A tall, slender woman had appeared in
the doorway dressed in a long, silky, crimson gown that dipped low at its
front. She came toward them with her arms outstretched, proving to be even
taller than Adam as she leaned down to embrace Verrine. Her skin was the color
of cinnamon, her hair dark and straight, pulled tight away from her face. She
offered a restrained yet warm smile to the others until her golden eyes fell on
Sophie. Her mouth fell open and she whispered, “Oh, my.”

The woman fell to one knee and held
her arm out before her bowed head in salute, “Her Highness has returned.”
Sophie again fidgeted and pleaded with the woman to stand. She raised her head
to Sophie, this time wearing a broad grin, then stood and wrapped her arms
around the girl. The embrace felt familiar, loving, and Sophie did not feel the
need to shy away. When the woman pulled back, she kept hold of her arms with a
firm yet gentle squeeze, “I am so very thankful for this moment.” She had
sharp, small features and a thin, slightly hooked nose. She let out a small
sigh before releasing Sophie and gracefully folding her hands before her,
“Verrine, we must see the others immediately.”

“Exactly what I wanted, Pru,”
Verrine noted, following the woman when she turned and lead them through the
room to another chamber.

Sophie felt overwhelmed, yet her
feet kept moving. Was no one going to ask her what she wanted? If she was
ready? If perhaps, at least, she’d like a shower first?