Last of the Nephilim Page 5

  As if reading his mind, Jared laid a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Adventures await all who follow the narrow path, son. We have plenty to do here.”

  Sir Patrick held up the printed page. “I should say so! Ashley’s e-mail is most interesting, indeed!”

  “Will you read it out loud?” Billy asked.

  “Certainly.” Patrick waved a hand. “Everyone please gather comfortably. The message isn’t overly long, but I’m sure our conversation about it will be considerably longer.”

  Billy got up from the computer seat and let Shiloh take his place. He dragged a hardback chair from a worktable and slid it next to his mother. He smiled at her, arching his eyebrows much higher than normal, hoping to get a response.

  One corner of her lips twitched upward, but every other line in her face sagged. Billy’s father approached her from behind and rested his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading her muscles. While Monique nestled in her lap, Stacey and Rebecca knelt on the floor at either side, quietly fidgeting. Sir Barlow eyed Sir Patrick as he paced back and forth across the computer room.

  Stroking his chin, Patrick read the e-mail. “Dear Billy and whoever else is reading this, here’s what’s going on. Walter might have told you about this creepy old guy who sat with me during the airplane ride to London. Well, he suddenly appeared again when I was being chased up a stairwell from Hades by a giant with a missing leg. Turns out he wasn’t just a creepy old guy. He was Enoch, the prophet from the Bible. Pretty weird, right? Anyway, while Abigail and I went down to get a waffle at the motel room buffet, guess who was refilling the waffle batter. Yup! Enoch, himself! He told us the key to separating Earth and Hades was in another world called Second Eden. He needs every dragon and former dragon to come and help with a war that’s about to start there. He also asked for Billy, Barlow, and the other knights, something about including the heirs and friends of King Arthur in the great battle.”

  Patrick looked up at Billy. “Edmund will arrive later, but Newman was not able to accompany me because of obligations with the museum in Scotland. Had I known of the need, I would have insisted. Of course, Fiske and Woodrow are still recovering from broken bones, but I could call upon Standish, if necessary.”

  “Sure,” Billy said, nodding. “Is there more in the e-mail?”

  “Quite a bit.” He looked down at the page and continued. “I know you’re busy with a bunch of hairy fiends from Hades, but we have bigger problems to worry about. There are at least ten giants called Nephilim roaming around in Montana, and an overzealous genius named Mardon probably still has big plans for them. My theory is that this dragon named Arramos wants to use them in that war I was talking about. So, if we want to do the David and Goliath thing, rid the world of hairy monsters, and save another world with a single stone, let’s all go to this place called the Bridgelands. Enoch says the portals will lead us there, and then someone will guide us from that point on. Call Sapphira and tell her when you can meet her and Gabriel at the top of the mountain in Montana where I used to live. Larry has the GPS coordinates. I hope they’re accurate. My handheld computer is on its last legs battery-wise, so I’m not sure I can trust it. I pray that it lasts long enough to send this message. Anyway, tell Sir Patrick that he should recognize Sapphira and Gabriel. They haven’t changed a bit. I hope to see you soon. Ashley.”

  “So we fly to Montana.” Billy stood up. “Can we all fit in Merlin? We have more seats in the new model.”

  His mother shook her head. “I have to stay with the girls. They can’t be involved in a war. I can manage without the men for a while.”

  Jared reached for his wife’s hand. “I told you that I would never leave you again.”

  “Thank you for remembering.” She kissed his knuckles. “You have to go. There’s just no other option.”

  Raising a finger for each person, Billy counted. “Okay, so there’s me, Dad, Sir Patrick, Sir Barlow, and …”

  “And me!” Shiloh said. “I’m an heir to King Arthur. Well, an adoptive one, anyway.”

  “Okay, that’s five.” He turned to his father. “What about Bonnie and her mother? Any chance of finding them?”

  He shook his head. “It would take too long to get a message to them. When we were hiding from the slayers, we had ways of communicating, but it often took months, even years, to get our messages across.”

  “This is the Internet age, Dad. There’s got to be a faster way.”

  “What do you propose, son? Post a coded message on a fantasy blog? Irene wouldn’t know to look there. We have to use the old methods.”

  “What methods?”

  His father sighed and nodded at Sir Patrick. “It would be better if you explained it since you set up the system.”

  Setting a hand on Billy’s back, Patrick spoke in a serious tone. “It is impossible for you to comprehend how secretive we had to be. Over the centuries, the slayer picked us off one by one until only Jared, Irene, and I remained. Even though we exercised extraordinary care, Devin was able to track Irene to Montana and Jared here to West Virginia. Such was his obsession and prowess. Yet, although he knew where I lived, Morgan forbade him from killing me. She wanted me alive to continue her blackmailing schemes.”

  “You mean to use Shiloh as a hostiam?” Billy asked.

  “Exactly. If a slayer is stalking Irene and Bonnie, any form of communication could well endanger their lives. I think it best if we take this journey without them. Perhaps Enoch will unite us later.”

  Billy clenched his fist, imagining Devin’s throat in his grasp. “But could any slayer be as crafty as Devin? Whoever this new slayer is, he’s probably just a wannabe without any experience.”

  “Are you sure this is a new slayer?” Patrick asked. “How do you know he isn’t Devin himself?”

  “I cracked the candlestone Devin was in. He’s nothing but a bunch of sparkling light now.”

  “Yet he survived a similar fate in the past.”

  Billy’s heart thumped. Patrick was right. After Devin came out of the candlestone as a weird energy monster, Excalibur sent him away in a swirling cyclone of energy. Somehow Morgan was able to put him into the body of Clefspeare, but who could have reconstituted him this time? “I guess you’re right. Maybe the former dragons really are in big trouble.”

  Patrick gave him a grim nod. “I know how to reach Legossi in a safe way, so I will send her a note immediately. I also secured a hiding place for a few other dragons in Europe, so I will ask Larry to store and secure those addresses. Perhaps I can call upon Legossi to warn them for us. Still, there are others we might not be able to contact without compromising security. For them, including Hartanna, I will use our safest form of communication, though it is also the slowest. We have rented post office boxes in every major region of this country as well as in England. I will instruct one of the members of the Circle of Knights to write a letter addressed to each one. They will be sent from various locations, and, of course, the message will be in code using a method we dragons devised long ago.”

  “That sounds pretty safe,” Billy said, looking at his father. “How often did you check the box in this region?”

  “To us,” his father said, “time was not a major factor. I cannot speak for the other dragons, but I checked mine once each year.”

  “Once a year!” Billy moaned. “We can’t wait that long!”

  “I wish I could give you better news.” He draped an arm over Billy’s shoulder and pulled him close. “Bonnie’s presence could well cause Irene to check hers sooner, but if she believes Devin is on her trail, she might not come out of hiding at all.”

  Swallowing hard, Billy looked up at his father. Still a few inches taller, his protective stance reassured him. It was as if Jared Bannister maintained the power and presence of Clefspeare. “Who will stay to protect Mom and the girls?” Billy asked.

  Patrick looked at his watch. “Sir Edmund should arrive before nightfall, but I’m not sure we should wait for him. Marilyn will be safer if all
former dragons vacate the premises.”

  “Edmund would be the perfect guardian,” Barlow said. “As his captain, I hereby order it.”

  Billy pulled free from his father and picked up a phone on the desk. “We’d better let Sapphira know when we’re coming.”

  “She has Walter’s cell—speed dial nine,” his father said. “When I was last in Montana in dragon form, I flew over the mountaintop Ashley mentioned. There’s plenty of room to land our plane.”

  Billy looked at the phone’s keypad. “What time should I tell her?”

  “Probably late morning to midday tomorrow.”

  “Can’t we fly all night?” Billy asked. “We can take turns.”

  His father shook his head. “We’ll fly as far as we can tonight and finish in the morning. I don’t want to land on that mountain in the dark.”

  “Got it.” He punched the numeral nine and raised the phone to his ear. “But if what I hear about Sapphira is true, she could light up that mountain like it was daytime.”

  Chapter 3

  Return of the Ring

  Walter tightened his grip around Ashley’s waist and clutched a handful of her sweatshirt. “Do you think they heard that last message?” he called.

  “Can’t tell,” Ashley said. “My computer lost the connection.”

  Walter looked at the mist-covered screen in her hand. “Should you try again?”

  “I think the battery’s finally given up the ghost.” She lowered her head, sending her hair into a frenzy. “Time for a portal dive!”

  Flames shot from Thigocia’s mouth and nostrils as she bent into a hard left turn. The fiery arc tightened until it became a spinning wheel that funneled downward into a tornado. Her wings fanned and twisted the flames, making them spin faster and faster. As she continued to pour a river of orange into the vortex, the opening at the top widened.

  Clouds within a few feet of the spin streamed into the funnel, ripping a hole in the fabric of the sky. The rift expanded into a black chasm that dipped toward the vortex, an expanse of nothingness at least the width of a dragon’s wing.

  “Here we go!” Thigocia shouted. “Hold your breath and hang on!”

  Ashley stuffed her handheld computer behind her jeans waistband and gripped a protruding spine. Folding in her wings, Thigocia dove into the void.

  Walter took a deep breath and held it as the surrounding air faded to black. Now floating in cold darkness, he slowly exhaled, keeping as much air as possible, but after a minute or so, his body craved oxygen. He tried to suck in air, but nothing would enter. As his chest muscles clutched painfully, he felt Ashley’s abdomen tighten. Abigail’s hands trembled around his waist. If they didn’t break out of this vacuum in a few seconds, they would faint and fall off.

  Finally, a rush of air breezed in. Walter took in long, deep breaths, soothing his aching lungs. Ashley’s abdomen relaxed, as did Abigail’s grip. Light filled the skies, and down below, a field came into view, a wide expanse of green grass dotted with purple and yellow flowers that bordered a dense forest.

  Walter patted Thigocia’s scales. “Way to go! You did it!”

  Her wings beating the fragrant air, she curled her neck, bringing her head near her passengers. “I apologize. The lack of oxygen lasted longer than I remembered.”

  “It still doesn’t make sense,” Ashley said. “No air, but enough pressure to keep our bodies from exploding.”

  Thigocia snorted plumes of smoke from her nostrils. “There are two things you need to learn, my dear. One is that the laws to which you are accustomed on Earth might not hold true here in the Bridgelands.” As she descended, she straightened her neck and aimed twin red beams at the grass below.

  Walter grinned. Thigocia was baiting Ashley to ask about the second thing she needed to learn, but either Ashley didn’t want to bite or her newly awakened mind-reading skills had already given her the answer.

  After a few seconds, Abigail piped up from behind, shouting into the wind. “What’s the second thing?”

  Thigocia spread out her wings and flattened her angle as she swept parallel to the meadow near the forest’s outer tree line. As soon as she landed in a graceful slide, she reached her head toward them again. “The second thing is to always trust your mother.”

  She lowered her snout to the ground, creating a staircase with her neck. Ashley, Walter, and Abigail stepped across the oddly angled ridges until they could jump safely to the ground.

  Abigail stopped for a moment. She adjusted her jeans, tucked in her T-shirt, and pulled the hem of her thick woolen sweater over her belt. “I am not accustomed to pants yet. During my time as a human in Dragons’ Rest, I wore dresses.”

  “I hope you’re a quick study,” Ashley said. “Dresses aren’t very practical when riding a dragon.”

  Walter quickly checked his jeans, shirt, and sweatshirt, a dark gray one with a Glacier National Park logo on the front. No use being the only one looking like a bum. He then stooped and passed a hand through the grass. As soft as silk and as green as emeralds, it seemed unearthly.

  “Because it is unearthly,” Ashley said. “I think we’re in the Bridgelands.”

  Walter straightened, trying not to scowl. “This mind reading of yours might get annoying after a while.”

  Ashley’s brown eyes sparkled in the warm sunshine. “Don’t fret, Walter. I pick up your thoughts only once in a while, mostly images, really. An occasional word or two pops up, but nothing for you to be ashamed of.” She smiled. “Your thoughts are … well … sweet.”

  “Thanks.” Walter pressed his lips together. “I think.” He dug into his pocket. “Speaking of sweet …”

  Ashley tried to peek. “Did you bring candy?”

  “My MP3 player.” He pushed the earbuds into place and set the player to its radio setting. “I got it when we stopped at Wal-Mart. Just thought I’d check for any stations.”

  “Don’t you know where we are? What do you think you’ll find? A Top 40 countdown of hymns from an angelic choir?”

  “That’s the point. I wanted to make sure we really made a jump. When I had my cell phone, I used that to check, but since I gave it to Sapphira, this is all I have. No stations means we’re not in Montana anymore.” After scanning the frequencies, he shook his head. “Not a sound.”

  “Well, unplug yourself and put it away. We all need to keep our ears open.”

  “Sure thing.” He popped out the buds and slid the player into his pocket. “But you never know when it might come in handy.”

  Abigail untied the strap of a backpack from a spine near Thigocia’s tail. As she bent over to check its zipper, a clear bauble dangled from a thin chain around her neck. Walter watched it swing back and forth, the egg crystal that Sapphira had formed out of the diamond-like shards that had fallen from the sky when Ashley’s and Abigail’s father gave his life for them. He glanced at Ashley, but hers wasn’t in sight. She was wearing it earlier, so it was probably hidden under her shirt.

  Abigail pushed her arms through the backpack straps and hiked it up. “I see a jagged line in the distance that interrupts this meadow.”

  “Trees?” Walter asked. “Hills?”

  Thigocia folded her wings in tightly. “It is a chasm bordered by a rocky ridge. I noticed it on the way down.”

  “That would suggest a river at the bottom,” Abigail said. “A water source is a good find. We only have enough for a couple of days. If we don’t locate Enoch soon, we will have to refill our bottles.”

  Walter pointed at the horizon. “If water is over there, then why did we land here?”

  “I sensed a presence.” Thigocia’s triangular ears twitched. “I thought it best to investigate.”

  “Danger?” Walter asked.

  “I did not detect it using my danger senses. I picked it up by smell.” Thigocia sniffed the air. “It is an old memory, very old.”

  “A human smell,” Ashley said. “But I can’t pick up a name from your mind.”

  “Because
I cannot identify it.” Thigocia sniffed again. “It is not Enoch … or Timothy.”

  A voice called from the trees. “Thigocia, your senses are as sharp as ever.”

  Walter spun on his heels. An old man shuffled out of the forest, slightly bent as he pushed a wrinkled hand through his wispy white hair. Dressed in a gray cloth robe that covered his legs down to his ankles and his arms to his elbows, he wobbled back and forth in a lively gait.

  Thigocia bowed her head. “A pleasure to see you again, Glewlwyd. How many years has it been?”

  As soon as Glewlwyd joined them, he stroked Thigocia’s neck three times. “Let us not count years, good Queen of the dragons.”

  Walter grimaced. Glewlwyd’s voice sounded like a cross between a squeaky door and a complaining Siamese cat, all scratchy with a touch of growling.

  Glewlwyd splayed his hands and continued. “When the number of centuries I have seen eclipsed the number of fingers on my hands, I forsook the practice of counting. Years are like days, days like minutes. Time seems rather meaningless now.”

  Thigocia tapped the end of her tail on the ground twice. “In the days of Arthur, Glewlwyd rode me into battle on a number of occasions. He is a gatekeeper during times of peace, but all able-bodied men had to go to war when called upon, especially those who could ride dragons.”

  “My dragon riding days are long gone. When I died, it had been forty years since I had even seen a dragon. Their transformation into humans made us bereft of a great and noble race.”

  Walter shuddered. Just a few feet in front of him, a dragon and a dead man were having a conversation. Not exactly an everyday occurrence, but stuff like this was becoming more and more normal all the time. He extended his hand. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you, sir. I’m Walter.”

  “I know who you are.” Glewlwyd shook his hand heartily. “You are the descendant of Arthur, the son of his body.”

  “Yeah, I guess. At least that’s what someone told me.”

  “And he would be correct.” Glewlwyd patted him on the back. “I sense that you have not traveled to the Bridgelands to stand around and talk to a decrepit gatekeeper. Shall we discuss your business?”