“Hold them off. I think JD has got some sort of defence system here. I hope it’s activated.” The witch flexed her fingers, and a pulse of power crackled along the tips before she balled fire in her hands. “Fire is my strongest element,” she told Olivia, “but I have plenty of spells to use, too. It just depends on whether they wield Belial’s power.”
Suddenly, everything seemed very real and frightening. “They’re Belial’s Nephilim?”
“Do you know of any more?”
“Sorry! I’m normally cool-headed, but,” her hand flew to her stomach subconsciously, “I have other worries now. I’m not leaving you alone, though. What can I do?”
“Arm yourself with one of JD’s weapons.” Estelle pointed at the tables that were still in the centre of the marquee. “I saw them earlier. Careful how you handle them! Unfortunately, mine’s in my bag in the cave.”
Olivia already knew about the weapons. Harlan and Nahum had told her all about them, and she had seen Nahum’s. He had even shown her how to use it. “Not a problem,” she called out as she raced to the tables.
A blast of fire ignited the dark behind her, and Olivia whirled around. Estelle was already hurling balls of flames skywards. Turning her attention to the tables again, Olivia spotted a series of the ovoid weapons, and picked up a copper one. It warmed in her hands, and she took a deep breath to stop shaking.
An enormous tearing sound erupted overhead, and she looked up in horror as a curved blade sliced through the marquee’s roof. Without hesitation, Olivia fired, almost falling over in shock as a searing flash of red light sizzled through the marquee. A roar of anger followed.
But then more swords slashed through the tent’s roof. Olivia fired as accurately as she could, running to the cave entrance. “Estelle! Get back here!” But Estelle wasn’t even at the marquee’s door anymore.
Olivia’s voice was lost in the noise of sizzling magic, and despite her numerous shots, a Nephilim dropped through the roof and onto a tabletop. He was dark-haired, with eyes of flames, and his wings were pure white. He was clad in silver armour, and he carried two swords, almost as long as he was tall.
And then he saw her.
He grinned wolfishly, bounded off the table, and raced towards her.
Estelle ran onto the wide lawn that encompassed the marquee, and quickly cast a circle of protection around her.
At least half a dozen Nephilim were winging out of the sky, most aiming for the marquee, others for the house. Estelle knew she’d have the best chance of attacking out in the open. All the Nephilim were armed with either curved scimitars or broadswords. One dived down at her. She threw a cascade of fireballs at him, so many that he couldn’t dodge them all. But he was shockingly quick.
He wheeled around and attacked again, while another Nephilim tried to distract her from a different direction. She attacked with a jet of wind. Caspian had taught her how to harness air more effectively, and she put it to good use now. Mixing fire and wind together, she sent a flaming tornado up and out, and the Nephilim scattered—but not for long.
Standing in the open was leaving her vulnerable to attack on all sides. She brought her hands together with a clap, amplifying it with magic. The sound thundered across the grounds as she cast the spell. The closest Nephilim’s wings caught fire, and he screamed in agony.
However, she couldn’t distract the Nephilim from the marquee, and more were dropping through the roof now. Where were the others? Where was Anna?
Lucien was wandering the cavern on his own, lost in his thoughts, and mesmerised by his surroundings.
He was beyond grateful that he had joined the others, fearing that he would be left behind in London. He still felt not quite part of the group, despite everyone’s welcoming attitude, but Barak had just said, “You’re coming too, right?”
So, here he was, a super-soldier who had no idea how to fight as well as the Nephilim, surrounded by ancient magic in a palace of wonders. There was no sign of the others now, however. He had left them behind, and he was now at the far end of the cave. At one point he thought it would go on forever. It was easy to get turned around and disoriented. However, the columns had ended, and a towering wall of sheer emerald stretched ahead of him, like a huge ice cliff in Antarctica. He walked along it, determined to map the perimeter. It was shadowy here, the lamplight barely penetrating. A fine powder was on the floor, like sand, and it crunched beneath his feet as he kept the wall to his left.
He crouched, filtering the powder though his fingers. Emerald dust, he was sure. It was fine, like the gems and metals that had been ground and added to ink to make his tattoos. His skin tingled, and with surprise he watched his skin change to copper—except, he hadn’t willed it.
“No!” he shouted in surprise, trying to brush the powder away, fearing he was changing without control.
However, he didn’t feel any different, and as he focussed, his heart rate settling, his skin changed back to normal again. What the hell was happening? His finger traced the fine design of the alchemical bracelet JD had made for him, and as the emerald dust rubbed into it, the metals glowed, too.
Suddenly curious, rather than scared, he rubbed the dust over his arms, and this time actively willed his skin to change. The alchemical reaction was like breathing to him now. He felt stronger, and his vision became more acute as he transformed. Where he’d rubbed the emerald dust, his skin and tattoos glowed with extra brightness and hardness. It had enhanced him even more. He peeled his t-shirt off, rubbing more of the emerald dust across his chest, and immediately saw the change there, too.
He straightened up, seeing the cave with new vision. The pillars had light within them, and the script etched on the surface glowed with an Otherworldly light. He was somehow attuned to the cave. He saw a broad archway a short distance ahead in the wall of the cave. It was twice his height, and the longer he stared, the more it seemed to solidify and yet shimmer all at the same time. And then he saw more of them. There were more rooms here, hidden within the walls themselves.
Unable to contain his curiosity, he stepped through an archway into a room beyond, and found a cache of weapons. Shields, swords, and daggers, all ornate, all ancient. He grabbed a shield, hefting it on his arm. It was lightweight and seemed to mould to his body. More alchemical weirdness.
He needed to tell the others. However, he had progressed only a short way across the cave when he heard Maggie’s anguished shout, and he ran.
Nahum flew through the cave as soon as he heard Maggie’s shout for help, Barak next to him. They left the others far behind.
As Nahum reached the end of the tunnel, he saw the dark-haired Nephilim advancing on Olivia. She fired JD’s weapon at him as she retreated, upending chairs in his path, but he moved like the wind, his speed supernatural.
Fortunately, the intruder was so fixated on Olivia that he didn’t see Nahum until the last moment. Nahum angled over her, slicing his sword at the Nephilim’s head. With impossibly quick reflexes, his opponent’s head whipped up, and he blocked him with one sword, while striking with another. Nahum wheeled around, using his wings as a weapon, dropped onto a table top, and pivoted on the balls of his feet. He launched at him again, keeping his attacker’s focus away from Olivia. He glanced around, assessing the risks, and saw that Barak was tackling another Nephilim who had broken through the roof of the marquee. But more were arriving now, swords flashing as the marquee’s roof was slashed to ribbons.
Nahum didn’t know his opponent, but he recognised the insignia on his breastplate. The House of Belial. He didn’t appear to be wearing any of Belial’s tokens, though. But that was as much as he could take in. They met with a fierce clash of swords and grunting aggression. Fortunately, Nahum was used to fighting warriors after months of battling Black Cronos, and the Nephilim was distracted by Olivia, who was still firing at all the newcomers. Their armour was obviously enhanced, as they seemed impervious to JD’s weapons.
“You will die here!” Nahum yelled. “Leave now while you have the chance.”
“And leave your spawn behind in the human whore? I think not.” His eyes sparked with malice as he slashed at Nahum.
Olivia shouted in outrage. “Whore? Who the fuck are you calling a whore? Get back, Nahum!”
The searing red light of the alchemical weapon sliced down the Nephilim’s wing, leaving it shattered and broken. He roared in pain and shock. Clearly, not everything was impervious. Olivia struck again, hitting the other wing and making Nahum dive for cover behind a table. Her aim was scattered in her fury, but she had already caused enough damage. Nahum knew that the pain of severed wings would be immense. He leapt in and ended him, forcing his blade though his neck to behead him.
Then he swung around, ready to face another attacker.
Harlan sprinted towards the cave’s entrance, flanked by Jackson, Maggie, and JD. The two Nephilim were already way ahead, and he had no idea where Lucien was.
“I have to get to my control tower,” JD said, trotting to try and keep up with the others.
“Aren’t your defences already on?” Harlan asked in horror as he contemplated the alternative.
“Only the ground ones! That will be of no use if Nephilim are attacking from the sky.”