THE FALL (Rapha Chronicles #1) (The Rapha Chronicles) (30 page)

“They want the child.”

“Why?”

“They serve the father of the child. He sent them.”

“But—” Eve’s words were cut off by another rumble and rocks began once more to crash around them. Rapha pulled her forward until he felt an opening on the left. They huddled there until the noise ceased. Rapha reached behind him until he felt the folds of a bundle. “Thanks to Kal we will now have light in the darkness.” He pulled out a torch and the sparking stones.

“Do you know, Rapha, I could see you.”

“Hmmm?” He struck the stones together.

“When Sheatiel screamed and you were praying, you… got brighter. Then, right before she began breathing again, the light passed into her.”

Rapha blew gently on the tiny spark until it ignited the oil-soaked fabric. In the flame’s glow his face was thoughtful. “I could feel Adonai’s power, but I was unaware it was visible. Perhaps you are gifted to see what others cannot.” He brought out a length of rope and tied it around his waist, then attached it to Eve. “The path, if it is still there,” Rapha added, “is treacherous ahead.” Then he stood and held up the torch revealing a lofty cavern with pointed rocks coming up from the floor and dangling from above.

“I have always wanted to ask,” Eve’s words echoed around them, “what, exactly,
are
you now?”

Rapha chuckled as he waved the torch, seeking the correct passage on the far side of the cavern. “Ah! We could be buried at any moment but Eve has questions.”

“You told us you chose to stay and Adonai changed you but, how? You eat and sleep like me but you are… different. Come now,” she said when Rapha hesitated, “distract me from the fact we are trapped inside a crumbling mountain. I may not get another chance to ask.”

He sighed, “I will tell you what I can but, in some ways, I too am trying to define what I am.”

“You still have power with your words. Is that because you retain the knowledge of angelic language or because that power remains? And you communicate with animals and know the thoughts of others. Again, is this knowledge or remnants of former power?”

“I believe it is both,” Rapha turned to assist Eve off of a high ledge. “I saw Adam display power over the earth’s elements on our last day in the garden. That authority was placed in him from birth and was lost to Lucifer but Adonai promises it will be restored. As for me, as long as I do not mix my flesh with that of mankind I will remain as I am. I will not… fade.”

“Are there others like you?”

“Many joined Lucifer and were banished. But I have not heard of any of them existing in human guise.” Rapha paused, his face thoughtful in the flickering torchlight, “However, the one who tried to kill Sheatiel is also able to shake this mountain. Those feats require ancient knowledge and power. Yes, it may well be one of the fallen of my brethren.”

“Lucifer?”

“No. But most assuredly one in league with him.”

Eve was quiet a moment then she said softly, “So will Lucifer fade… die… since he mixed with mankind?”

Rapha took a deep breath, “No. I am sorry to say, he implanted the seed in you. Even in regards to Adam, Lucifer safeguarded himself and only collected Adam’s seed. He has been mastering the art of corruption for many ages.”

“We were such young fools,” Eve whispered.

“But Lucifer’s evil has taken its toll on him nonetheless. Remember the sacrificial blood from the lamb? Every step away from Adonai galls him. By his actions, he tortures himself.”

They stopped and Rapha held the torch up to light a narrow path with a sheer drop to unseen depths below.

Rapha checked the rope attaching them, then moved forward. “Can you hear the water? We will follow this path to where it leads down to it.” He stopped speaking as images assaulted his mind. “Kal.”

“What is it?”

Rapha shut his eyes, pain etched across his features. “The warriors have discovered Kal’s hiding place. He is protecting the women and children.” Rapha felt fear grip his heart. “They did not acquire what they sought, so they will punish and destroy.” He clutched his head. The images were so real. He had not sought these visions. He had not been praying. But they were so vivid.

Fear filled the children’s eyes. The acrid smell of charred flesh assaulted his nose along with the agonized screams of the animals with no escape from the flames.

“No! Adonai, no!” Rapha’s strength drained away as he watched the carnage. “Please! Brother angels, intervene!” he shouted.

“Rapha,” Eve’s hand was on his shoulder, “perhaps it is more sorcery. Perhaps these things you see are lies,” her voice pleaded for it to be so.

Again the mountain around them rumbled, a huge stone fell two paces behind and they were forced to stumble forward onto the narrow path, the sheer cliff rising above and the water rushing far below. Rapha prayed as he walked, his mind still seeing the torturous scenes, his heart reliving those horrible last hours in Eden. Why was evil triumphing here? Why was Adonai allowing it? Tears ran down Rapha’s cheeks as the path narrowed until he and Eve had to slide forward gripping the cliff.

And all the while they prayed. Over and over Rapha tried to wrest his mind from the visions of destruction but they would not relent. Again the mountain rumbled and in the fight to hold to the cliff the torch fell from his hand, its light flipping end over end until, with a distant splash, its flickering glow was quenched.

Eve screamed, “Rapha, I am slipping!”

“Pray and move forward. We will make it,” Rapha instructed even as a new vision played in the darkness.

It was Kal’s face, teeth bared, the sharp harvest blade slashing into his enemies as he shouted words that Rapha could not hear. Into the picture leapt Eden, vicious and fearless beside Kal. The dog dove at a man who clutched a small girl, and ripped out the man’s throat. The man released his hold on the child and fell, dead, with a startled expression still on his face.

A spear slammed into Eden’s side. Rapha could see Kal’s face as he saw the dog fall, his eyes wide with horror. In the momentary distraction an arrow struck Kal’s shoulder.

Kal twirled and fought as more arrows pierced him and the enemy forces, glowing red from the surrounding flames, closed ranks.

“Rapha!” Eve’s panicked voice pierced his grief. “I… can’t….” She screamed and suddenly her weight was added to Rapha’s crumbling handholds. He inched forward, every movement a strain, convinced at any instant the rock would give way as he clung to scant grooves, sweat pouring down his body, the fact only too clear that three fingers on one hand prevented them from plunging to the rocks below.

“There’s nothing!” Eve cried out. “I’m reaching. Nothing is there,” she sobbed, her cries amplifying off the cavern walls like the despair of a multitude.

Again, the image of Kal was forced before Rapha’s eyes.

Kal’s face was bleeding, his eyes swollen shut, the white tufts of hair gone, ripped away. He was pushed, kicked and beaten until he was thrown to the ground, broken and defenseless.

All was dark. Hope was gone. Rapha clung to the rock weeping, his head beating against the rock as if to remove the horror, sticky warmth now running down his face. He could feel nothing. He could hear nothing.

Let go.

He could not stand the pain. He could not care anymore.

Adonai?

Adonai has abandoned you,
his tortured mind hissed
. You have failed. Every choice, a mistake. Every hope, destroyed. The Most High turns His face from you, ashamed.

Give up.

Let go.

End the pain.

Let… go.

The hopeless litany beat against him. He was drowning beneath fierce waves, thrown down out of remembrance, forgotten, destroyed.

Let. Go.

He began to loosen his cramped grip.

Through the haze of searing pain he felt something. A heartbeat thumped against his back, beating when his heart longed to cease. Warm breath was on his neck. As if emerging out of deep water, sound returned to his ears. There was a moan and the weight on his back struggled against the ties that held it there.

“Rapha! Rapha! Please! Move!”

That voice. He remembered it. Eve.

As Eve’s weight on the cord kicked and the injured woman on his back struggled, Rapha breathed one word—“Adonai!”

The weight of the women grew tenfold and the blood pounded in his ears, its throb the only sound as repeatedly his anchors on the rock gave way. The voices in his head multiplied.

You fool! You can save nothing, not even yourself. You have led them from danger to certain death!

His strength was gone. He could feel no further chink for hand or foot. The rock to which he clung leaned slightly out over the unknown abyss and the weight of the women pulled him down… down.

“I am sorry,” he gasped as his fingers slipped.

“Rapha! Rapha!” He felt a yank on his waist and realized the weight had lessened. “My foot is on a ledge,” Eve’s breathless voice echoed up, “I see some light ahead.”

Rapha could not see light. He slid down, his feet finally reaching solid rock. It was the last thing he remembered.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Death

When he came to, he heard voices and the trickle of water. For a reason he chose not to recall, he kept his eyes shut.

“Here, drink,” Eve’s voice spoke.

A loud gulp caused Rapha’s tongue to flare with thirst. “What about him?” Sheatiel’s voice whispered. “Is he alive?”

“Yes. He still breathes.”

“How did we come to be here? There is no path.”

“He carried us.”

“That is impossible!”

“Yes,” Eve answered again. “How are you?”

“Better than him, from the look of things,” Sheatiel answered with a hint of humor in her voice.

The weight of hopelessness on Rapha’s mind lessened.

After a pause, Sheatiel spoke again. “I prefer him this way, weak and sleeping.”

“He has saved you time and again. Surely you do not still fear him.”

“His kind bring only pain.” With those words all was dark once more.

“There is not another of his kind, as far as I know.”

“There are many… and they bring pain.”

The despair of the girl’s past wrapped around his exhausted mind like dense smoke. It was worse than fearing physical death. This torture chained from within. Rapha struggled against the suffocating darkness. He threw an arm over his eyes as if to shut out her pain.

“Rapha!” Eve was beside him. “Drink.”

Like a weak child he obeyed, feeling each cool drop of water flow through his body.

“Give me your hands.”

He lifted heavy arms, wincing as wetness set fire to his fingertips. When he tried to open his eyes, they remained shut as if stout thread had sewn his lids.

“Patience, Rapha.” She wiped at his face until he was able to open them to the dim light.

He moved to sit up but his body screamed in protest. Instead he turned his head to look around. Yes, the cliff above was sheer. It appeared a large chunk of rock had fallen from the pathway since he had last ventured to this cavern. No wonder they had lost their footing in the dark.

“How did you get to the water?” he asked Eve.

With a smug smile she pointed down. “Look.”

As if a giant hand had positioned them, huge rocks lay off the side of their ledge forming an almost perfect staircase down to the stream. In amazed silence he studied the place above where he had clung, realizing Eve’s feet must have been dangling a mere hand’s breadth from the highest rubble. His greatest, Herculean effort, and they hadn’t even been in real danger. He was ridiculous, covered in dirt with most of the skin from his hands and legs left behind on the rocks. How Lucifer would gloat to witness this humiliation!

As if the fallen angel whispered in his ear, Rapha heard what he would say.
“I told you it would come to this, old friend,”
the words hissed,
“you wear their filth well,”
Lucifer’s cackling laughter leapt from Rapha’s memory with such force he could hear it pounding from the cave walls like a fresh avalanche.

He curled into a ball and covered his bloodied head with his arms.

“Pa-the-tic.”
That single word pounded over and over.

How could he fight truth? Why should he? He felt pulled into gaping jaws and the wounds on his body awoke as if each had become hungry insects devouring him inch by inch.

“Why cry out to Adonai? Even the Most High mocks you.”

Where was Adonai when Rapha had hung from the cave wall in fear? Surely this shame was His will. Again Lucifer’s laughter filled his ears.
“Behold! The angel who became a worm!”

His body was quivering, aching, burning. He was helpless. He was drowning in torment.
Please, Adonai.
His mind screamed though his tongue formed only gasps and groans.
Slay me!

A splash of cold hit his face and his eyes flew open in surprise. Sheatiel was there, eyes wide and determined. “The voices in your head. Resist them!” she commanded. “They light fires and weave spells. They devour with thoughts.”

“The whore knows nothing,”
the vicious words accompanied a vision of Sheatiel, eyes vacant as from too much wine, body swaying provocatively. The image scraped across his soul, arousing both desire and disgust. Was she simply Lucifer’s latest guise?

“Whore,” he whispered, barely realizing the word had left his lips.

Whack! Her palm struck his face.

But as he grasped the offending wrist while it was still in motion, he knew this was not his old enemy. Humility and shame filled Sheatiel’s eyes—two things of which Lucifer was incapable. Rapha dropped her hand but still he felt its warmth, on his face as well as his fingers.

“Come, Sheatiel,” Eve took the trembling girl by the shoulders and shot Rapha a murderous look.

But Sheatiel, pale beneath her burnished skin, resisted Eve and held his gaze. “I am what you say.” The dark circles under her eyes deepened as she spoke. “But I know what torments you. They devoured me long ago. Once hope is gone you are their slave. Cling to what is good, no matter how small.”

Without pause she addressed Eve. “Please help me to the water.”

Then the two women left him and descended into the dimness toward the chattering stream. Alone on his ledge he wrestled with the evil that assaulted his mind. Finally, by thinking of the cool water cleansing Sheatiel’s stain, he knew peace.

In the coming days Rapha led Eve and Sheatiel, foraging for their food by cover of night, then retreating to the cave’s protective shadows while the sorcerous evil scoured the land, caused the ground to rumble and continued to taunt Rapha, calling him out, pressing images of suffering women and children on his mind.

“You hide because you are weak,”
the voice echoed over and over in Rapha’s mind but Adonai’s will held him back. Repeatedly in prayer he was convinced his most important mission was to keep the women safe. No visiting angel appeared to assure him but his heart was certain.

At night, the images almost drove Rapha to madness as the screams of women and children filled his heart. If not for the undeniable mandate from Adonai, he would have stumbled out of the caves for a daring, most likely ineffective, rescue. As it was, darkness would press in, surrounding them with the maddening pursuit until the breath of evil brushed their cheek and whispered death in their ears. But they had learned. Eve and Sheatiel would draw close to Rapha as he painted a picture of Adonai’s glory with his words, sometimes whispering heaven’s language when the words of men fell short. Therefore, though their bed was cold stone and fear hovered, they learned the art of weaving peace. And when Rapha lay in the darkness, watchful and cramped with the women drawing close to his warmth and their breathing growing deep and steady, he realized he no longer felt alone.

Finally, a day dawned when the brooding presence was gone and they could emerge, grateful for the sun’s warmth. But as they drew closer to their former home, dread clutched their hearts.

At the borders of their land, carrion fowl fed on two fallen warriors. Why so few? Why were the majority of their traps undisturbed?

At the grove of olive trees, Rapha finally saw evidence that brought a brief smile. No, their attackers had not been caught off guard at their borders. But they had underestimated Kal. The wily old warrior had lured dozens of the enemy into the open arms of his trip wires and booby traps, where explosions and pits with spears had greeted them.

Every structure was a burned-out shell but, thankfully, no bodies were found among the ashes.

However, as Rapha followed Kal’s trail that led toward a large rock, the stench of death was strong. Several enemy soldiers had fallen there along with… Rapha parted the bushes to discover, not Kal, but a mystery. There lay the body of a frail woman, stabbed in the heart, her arms folded over her chest as if prepared for a grand funeral.

Rapha called Eve who moaned and knelt beside the woman’s body. “This is Moria. She is finally released from her pain.” Eve looked toward the dwellings. “But she could not walk. How did she get here?”

Rapha studied the ground, “She must have been carried. Look. Kal’s steps lead away.”

“Follow them. Perhaps he is still alive. I will see to Moria’s remains.”

So Rapha followed a meandering path of the enemy’s feet. The only evidence that he was also following Kal’s footsteps was the occasional trapped or crushed enemy.

The site of Kal’s last stand was a rock at the end of that valley. Rapha was sure the final volley had been an amazing site. At least twenty of the enemy lay pierced by Kal’s arrows and a circle of warriors had fallen to his sword.

But, it had not been enough.

In the middle of their fields that had been picked clean by the enemy, Rapha found Kal, impaled and burned on a tall wooden stake. Rapha crumpled to his knees. “I am so sorry, my friend,” he whispered as tears ran down his cheeks and he collapsed to the ground.

A loud “Squawk!” interrupted Rapha’s pain and he looked toward the sound to discover his raven friend perched on Kal’s shoulder. “Squawk!” the bird said again, then flew to the ground before Rapha, taking a few waddling, determined steps forward as he flapped and bobbed his head. Obviously, something was on his mind.

Rapha wiped a sleeve across his face and nodded encouragement to the bird who stepped closer. He obeyed the bird’s direction and laid a hand on its sleek feathers.

Once more he was plunged into Kal’s last hours but this time, rather than the sorcerous connection that had revealed only despair, it was related through the bird’s pragmatic eyes.

He was soaring over the hills on the outskirts of their domain. A dark mass of men was approaching from the west.

“The only safe entrance is between those two stones,” the man at the front said. “One long line and stay quiet.”

The wind whispered through his wings as the bird looked for the short man with white feathers on his head. The man was not in his bed. Bright points of fire were approaching the fields when he located the one called Kal standing among the fruit trees with the dog at his side.

The bird landed a safe distance from the growling dog and croaked the news of men approaching.

“How I wish I could understand you. Are you telling me we’re being invaded?”

The bird bobbed his head.

“I knew it! If you can understand, friend, alert Rapha,” Kal said before running toward the dwellings. “You old fool,” Kal muttered as he ran, the dog at his heels. “Feeling it all day and hesitating.”

The bird flew to Rapha’s cave in time to see rocks falling to block the entrance.

By the time he descended again to the valley, Kal was leading a group of mostly women and children toward the mountain behind which the sun appeared each day.

“Where are we going?” a small boy asked in a loud whisper.

“You will escape into the hills,” Kal whispered back.

“You, too?”

Kal ruffled the child’s hair and smiled, “Not yet.”

“Elanor,” Kal addressed the woman at the boy’s side, “straight through the pass and over. You know where the provisions are. Do not look back. Adonai is with you.”

The woman nodded and took the boy’s hand.

“Eden. Go with them!” Kal pointed toward the group moving off into the darkness. The dog hesitated, whined, but then obeyed.

Kal ran back toward the settlement. In the small dwelling closest to the well he entered the dark doorway and came out a moment later carrying a frail woman, Moria.

“You can stay in the cave until it is safe,” he said.

The woman murmured something the bird could not hear.

Kal chuckled, “Yes, I am an old fool but I’m still getting you to that cave.”

A flaming “whoosh” sailed over their heads and struck the thatch of the neighboring dwelling. Kal ducked his head and ran faster. Suddenly he stopped as out of the shadows two young boys and a girl appeared with Eden at their heels.

“What are you doing here?”

“We came back to help you,” the taller boy replied. “We know where the trip wires are. We can fight.”

“Tess!” Kal addressed the girl. “You run into those trees right now or I’ll kill you myself!”

The girl took one look at Kal’s angry face and ran.

“But she’s only seven and she’s scared of the dark,” the taller boy spoke again.

“Tonight the darkness is her friend. All right, Eli, Jason, you man the rocks. Then get out!”

“No.” Eli stood with his fists clenched. “You taught us to fight, now you want us to run?”

There was a scream in the trees followed by harsh voices.

“Tess!” Kal gasped then commanded, “Tess! Nose, eyes, ears, now!”

There was a man’s yell, “Ow!” followed by a string of curses and, “Where’d she go?”

“Good girl,” Kal breathed. “Eli! Go!” He hissed and the boys shot away into the darkness.

Then more arrows flew through the air and lit the dwellings while Kal ran beneath an arching branch and behind a large rock where he deposited the woman in his arms onto the ground, “I’m sorry, Moria,” Kal pulled out the blade from his belt, “I will be back if I can.”