Shadows in the Silence
Page 92

 Courtney Allison Moulton

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“I became human to fight monsters on Earth,” I told her. “Take it or leave it.”
She shook her head in confusion. “How would this thing help you become an angel again?”
“I have to use his heart somehow,” I answered grimly. “Right now, I just have to get it. one step at a time, right?”
“This is all absurd,” she said.
Will hoisted Ethan’s and Rebekah’s belongings and presented them to their rightful owners. “Deny all you’d like, but you saw what happened here minutes ago. Now, we have to move. You can stay here, but I’d advise you to stick with us since there may be more reapers.”
She gaped at him, clearly fearful of him since witnessing the battle, but she had to know he was right. There was no way out the way we came, and in case another monster showed up, she wouldn’t want to be alone. After a few moments, she took her backpack and lantern from him and began walking alongside him.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” she asked. “Ellie is an angel, but you’re not.”
“No,” Will said. “I’m a reaper, but I fight for her. I fight for Heaven.”
Behind them, I moved nearer to Ethan. “You shouldn’t have brought someone with us who doesn’t know about our world,” I told him in a low voice. “We put her in danger, and now she’s slowing us down.”
“Rebekah knows the underground system far better than I do,” he said. “We will never find the city without her. She’s an invaluable asset. I never imagined I’d ever be required to tell her about the reapers. Most people don’t want to know that monsters exist.”
That wasn’t something I could argue with. I’d fought to keep this world a secret from Kate, but because I’d also fought to keep her in my life, that made it nearly impossible. Now she might have neon nightmares of that black light party at Josie’s for the rest of her life.
“The entrance to the city is just ahead,” Rebekah called to us over her shoulder.
Now that we were down to two lanterns, the underground passage seemed so much darker, and when the ceiling and floor began to widen, our lighted way became more and more dim. At last we came to a set of stairs that led into a large chamber with rows of support columns and archways that branched off into many rooms and hallways.
“We’ve excavated hundreds of underground cities throughout Turkey,” Rebekah explained. “Many are connected through miles of tunnel systems like the one we came through from Aleppo. They’re something like beautiful patchwork quilts, containing pieces from many different civilizations and expanded through the ages. I’ve found examples of Phrygian, Hittite, and even Byzantine period artifacts here. This room was likely an area for trade. The rooms off to the side were once stables and a granary. The underground temperature preserved food and kept living conditions comfortable. I don’t believe these caverns were used much for housing, but mostly for storage and religious purposes. The Sanctum door is clearly marked.”
She guided us further through the city, which was dark, cold, and quiet. I could hear the echoes of trickling water in the distance. We passed reliefs of Mesopotamian gods and demons, and when the door came into view it was even more gigantic than I had imagined. Jewels had been inlaid into the stone, and since they hadn’t been stolen, I believed that no one had found this door before Dr. Massi and Ethan Stone. It was carved from floor to ceiling with images of the war against Nephilim: bodies of giants littered the bottom of the relief below a layer of images depicting a violent battle of Nephilim carrying stocky, archaic weapons against winged, armored angels wielding swords. At the very top, a winged figure surveyed the carnage from the crest of a hill, hair flowing, and both hands carried flaming swords. At the figure’s feet was the name, the only Enochian word I remembered because it was tattooed onto Will’s arm. My name: Gabriel. I swallowed hard, recalling Azrael’s memory of me at the end of this battle, a frightening reflection of the carving I now saw with my own eyes.
“As soon as I saw this door,” Ethan said, his voice breathy with excitement, “I knew what lay in the Sanctum beyond, that the legends were true.”
“Not all legends are made from honorable heroes,” I said quietly. “What does all of this say? I can’t read the rest of this script.”
“The Enochian along the edge of the door described the angels’ victory over the Nephilim and says ‘This barrier shall yield only to the flesh and blood of the Left Hand.’”
“Me,” I said, gazing at the beautiful language describing such horrible acts of violence.
“For the most part,” he replied. “It means that your human form, the vessel of flesh and blood, is meant to open this door. I believe I was able to open it because your mortal blood flows through my veins. We share genetic material.”
“How does it open?”
“A pass phrase must be spoken,” he explained. “And then you must offer your blood.”
“Then go ahead,” I instructed. “You’re the one who speaks the angelic language.”
“Enochian didn’t work,” he said. “In any case, we are here for your purpose, not mine. You were always meant to open this door.”
“Which language worked?”
“I tried a handful of languages, but old Hittite was successful. Your pass phrase will be different from mine, because your connection to the Naphil, the creature believed to be a god by the people who built this temple, is different from mine. They thought the angels were gods and you should regard yourself as such.”