The Revelation of Gabriel Adam (8 page)

He turned back to the mirror and watched as the scene changed. Fires bloomed around the city’s crumbling walls. An invading army fought to take siege. From below came the echo of war cries and the clashing of swords on shields.

Two men dressed for battle appeared on the cliff, reminding Gabe of old gladiator movies, and looked out over the crumbling city as soldiers streamed from its gates, burdened with loot and plunder. The first man, a servant, addressed the second, whose gold armor matched blond locks that touched his shoulders. The servant spoke in a foreign language and gave something to his golden captain. His voice did not match the meek attire but dripped with authority, his words hollow and mystic. He stopped speaking and honored his superior by bowing. To Gabe’s surprise, the blond commander bowed even lower.

From the conversation, he made out two words:
Megas Alexandros
.
Alexander the Great
, Gabe guessed
.

Alexander looked at the gift in his hand—a ring with a stone set in its shining metal. He enclosed it in his palm and held it high to the burning city and said, “
Lapis, lapsus ex caelis
.”

In the darkness beyond the light, Gabe heard the woman’s voice again; this time the words were unclear and strained. They sounded panicked and urgent, pleading, before she faded, her last word calling his name.

“Don’t leave,” Gabe said. “Please.”

The voice, now only a whisper, gasped before the silence took her.

Under his feet Gabe felt a vibration, a rumble deep in the earth, like the tremor of an earthquake. After a moment, it was joined by a hissing sound that drifted by in the dark area beyond his circle of light.

A crashing sound in the distance startled him. It came from the outer rim of mirrors. The fixtures were exploding, their mirrors shattering in a collapsing ring all around, the ground shaking violently. One by one, rows burst into a cascading shower of sparks and crashing glass, and the darkness grew.

Gabe watched all around as the ring shrank smaller and smaller until with a deafening explosion the closest fixtures were extinguished, leaving only his solitary light and the surrounding emptiness. The room became still, the ground calm beneath him.

He dared not move.

For a moment, not a sound could be heard. Above, the remaining light flickered and began to dim.

“No, please,” Gabe begged, horrified at the idea of being caught in the dark. There was nowhere left to escape.

Around the edge of fading light the hissing approached and moved around its perimeter like a predator waiting to seize prey.

Gabe glanced at the fixture, its remaining life reduced to only a glowing filament inside its bell shape. Shadows grew, strengthening, as the light disappeared from under his feet. The world grew cold.

“Fortitudo Dei,” the hissing voice said from the void, its clarity stealing all hope. “Fortitudo Dei,” it said again, this time from behind.

There, a man wearing a black suit and overcoat stood, black hair fluttering in and out of his face. Gabe instantly recognized the bloodstained shirt.

He grabbed Gabe by his throat and lifted him off the floor. “It shall all come to pass,” the man smirked, squeezing Gabe’s windpipe.

He struggled to get free until a pure energy began to diffuse from his skin, like sweat made of light. The man in black seemed as bewildered by the glow as Gabe did. It radiated out, encompassing them both, a cloud of power that pulsed in the surrounding air, until finally it detonated like a starburst. The man roared in pain and released his grip, his arm and body disappearing in the blinding white.

Gabe’s last thought was of his father.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Turbulence shook Gabe awake. He looked around the cabin of the plane, relieved to be safe in business class and not a hospital bed. The reading light above burned his eyes, more intense, he thought, than it had been before. It clicked off with the punch of a button. Muscles in his legs and arms burned, as if he’d just played the full ninety minutes of a soccer game.

Beside him, his father slept soundly, oblivious.

A passenger across the aisle opened an air conditioner valve above her seat. It made a hissing sound as air seeped out, just like that sinister noise from his nightmare.

Gabe turned the reading light back on. He somehow felt better being in the light, though it did little to relieve his anxiety. In the back of his mind a migraine was working its way into his skull.

Insanity hurts
, he thought.

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with oxygen, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling in a sigh. In both visions, he had seen his own death.

Everyone’s death.

The inside of his shirt stuck to his body, drenched in a cold sweat. It felt gross. He threw off the complimentary blanket, furious, and stood up.

A bathroom was a few rows ahead. Once inside, Gabe shut the folding door and slid the occupancy sign. The fluorescent light of the mirror reflected someone he didn’t recognize. Bloodshot eyes glared back, framed by heavy bags that accentuated hollow cheeks. His hair a greasy mess.

He lathered some soap in his palm and onto his face. The fragrant foam and warm liquid helped. Another handful of water rinsed the remaining lather from his skin, and the rest he ran through his hair, slicking it back. Leaning against the sink, he watched water spiral down the drain, swirling away. He then looked into the mirror, half expecting to see some ancient scene play out.

“What’s happening to me?” Gabe asked his reflection. A day ago, his biggest worry in the world had been waiting on NYU to send an acceptance letter. Those concerns felt like years ago—worries from a former life.

He studied the lines in his face and took stock of his life.
Why us? We’re nobody special
. It had been unusual growing up, moving from town to town to follow his father’s career. Admittedly, there was resentment, and over time he’d given his father more grief than was deserved.

His dad always made certain to choose interesting cities and towns for relocation, promising never to drag them to some backwater outpost in the middle of nowhere. But really, none of these places had ever felt like home. The only constant in his life was his father, and now that also seemed to be changing.

A memory came to him. He must have been eleven or twelve years old. On his way out of their church to play soccer with some friends at a neighborhood field, he overheard a conversation.

His father sat in his office, talking on the phone. Gabe couldn’t recall ever seeing his father so emotional.

Gabe hid behind the door and listened.

“Because of Gabriel?” he asked into the phone. “Or because you didn’t have the courage to leave your home? I realize you have responsibilities there. Of course, I’m sure the repurposing of the Nicene Project
is
very important . . .”

He paused, listening to the response, shaking his head.

“No, Aseneth, it
was
my choice. Regardless of what family duty I had, Gabriel’s adoption
was
my choice. I
chose
to accept the charge.” He paced around his office. “That’s not true. I did . . . I do love you. But he is my son now. His place in this world is my responsibility. Above all others.”

A silence hung in the air like a storm cloud.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how it would ever be possible for me to return to Iznik.”

Whatever response his dad heard caused him to slouch, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Then I suppose it is. He sounds like a good man. You have to let me go now. Marry him and enjoy your life. Good-bye.” With that he hung up the phone and fell into his office chair.

Gabe eventually spoke with his father about the woman on the telephone and hearing the story of his adoption. As far back as he could remember, he seemed to have always known about it but never knew his dad had given up a woman for him.

The light in the bathroom became nauseating. The memory reminded Gabe of how much his father always did for him, which made the fact that they were miles above the Atlantic, flying to another country, all without a hint or an explanation why, so unbelievably frustrating. Still, at the same time, it was also reassuring. Regardless of the man’s refusal to explain anything, Gabe knew he would not take such extreme measures unless absolutely convinced it was for the best.

Gabe wished
for the best
had meant someplace warm and tropical. Someplace far away from the insanity of New York.

He had a feeling England would be neither.

Gabe returned to his seat, sat back, and pulled the flimsy airline blanket over his legs.

A light clicked on above his father. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“No. I keep thinking about . . . I need to know what’s going on, Dad.”

“I promise I will tell you everything once we get to England, but now is not the time.”

Gabe sighed, exasperated by his father’s cryptic response, and switched on the light above his seat. He turned his back on his father and found escape flipping through one of the several magazines provided by the airline, pictures of patchwork fields and English villages passing by.

“It’s been eighteen years since I was home. Can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“So, where are we going? London?”

“Durham. About three hours from London by train. It’s a university town just south of Newcastle in the northeastern borderlands. Not a big town, really, but it’s quiet and a bit off the beaten path. You’ll love the cathedral and castle. They’re marvelous.”

Gabe turned to see a smile form at the corners of his dad’s mouth as he became lost in the thought. “I think you miss it more than you know.”

“Maybe I do.” He nodded to the magazine. “Those rural pictures remind me a lot of where I grew up. Little farmhouses that look as though they sprouted right out of the land itself, quaint villages, grand cathedrals, and local pubs. I guess you can take the man out of the country but not the country out of the man.”

“Could you at least tell me what’s in Durham that’s so important?”

His father paused, as if considering how to respond. “Well, the short answer is
history
. The history of the region is very important. There is a wall north of Durham called Hadrian’s Wall, built when these lands were part of the dying Roman Empire.”

“We’re traveling all this way for a wall?” Gabe asked.

“Of course not. But our reasons are connected. The Roman Empire placed great value in the lands around Durham as a stronghold to defend their occupied lands from the constant invasion of the northern hordes. It is that reason—that effort to hold that land—that takes us there today. I’ll introduce you to someone who is very knowledgeable about this history.

“But none of this is a conversation for now,” he continued. “You should try and get some rest. You’re going to need it. There is much to see and even more to hear. Try counting sheep,” he said with a nod to a picture of a white-speckled field in the magazine.

With that, the light above his father clicked off, and Gabe was alone again.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The clattering of pots and pans somewhere in the house woke Gabe from a dreamless sleep to a darkened room.

He felt his wrist for the light button on his digital watch but then remembered,
Missing since The Study Habit
. A scene of the emergency medical technicians cutting it off his arm in the ambulance and shouting, “Stat!” at each other played out in his imagination. He wondered what sort of disruption he’d caused at the café. Coren had screamed. That meant she cared, he supposed. At least enough to be concerned. Did she run to his side and try to comfort him?

The embarrassment struck him again, as the memory strayed. He pictured himself spazzing out on the floor like frying bacon while Coren looked on.

Hell with it
, he thought.
Probably never see her again, anyway
.

Silly concerns over his dignity soon quieted in the comfort of the bed. He didn’t want to do anything but stay in the warmth of the covers.

The previous night existed in his memory like snapshots from someone else’s photo album. Various scenes from airports, train rides, and cabs all fit together enough to reassure him that he’d actually experienced them.

The rest was a little hazy. He remembered arriving in Durham. His father had woken him when the train’s interior lights came on. Gabe stumbled off into the snowy night, lumbering like a zombie toward a black cab. A man sitting inside had introduced himself to Gabe, but right now he couldn’t remember his face, let alone a name. What did leave an impression was his impressive physique and thick Scottish brogue. He was an older man but looked as though he could start as linebacker for any NFL team.