The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(4)

Michael was getting dizzy, watching his brother’s frantic pacing. “In the traditional scheme of things, yes, a Nephil Ordeal usually comes two to three months after the subject’s near-death. But I gather cocaine speeds up the process. If the dormant survives, the crisis arrives almost immediately. Some idiosyncrasy of Nephil physiology, apparently.”

“Disturbing. Very disturbing. When did Arthur emerge?”

“Thirty-two hours ago.”

Raphael passed a hand over his eyes. “Go back to Earth. Immediately. Keep an eye on him. Arthur Camulus, a Nephil adept.” He shook his head. “Blessed God in Heaven.”

“I don’t understand.” Michael looked from Raphael to Gabriel. “Who is Arthur Camulus?”

Gabriel slid off his patch of mist and onto his feet. “Yes. Who is he?”

A pained expression crossed Raphael’s countenance. “It’s not who Arthur is, precisely. It’s who his ancestor was.”

“All right,” Michael said slowly. “I’ll bite. Who was Arthur’s ancestor?”

“Merlin.”

“Merlin the Sorcerer?” Gabriel said with some surprise. “Camelot and all that?”

“Yes.”

“So?” asked Michael.

“So,” Raphael replied tightly, “Merlin the Sorcerer was the most powerful Nephil ever to walk the Earth. If Arthur Camulus is alive, he’s Merlin’s only living direct descendant. He’s heir to Merlin’s memories and magic. Magic, I might add, that Merlin gained by surviving his own Ordeal unguided.” Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose. “And now, if Arthur has done the same...”

“So what if he has?” Michael asked. “It’s not the end of the world or anything. Nephilim have no souls. Their existence is finite. Wait a century or so, and Arthur will be in Oblivion.”

“It’s the damage he could do before he dies that I’m worried about,” Raphael said. “You want to talk about the end of the world? Back when Merlin was alive, he managed to push humanity this close—” He pinched a bare inch of air between his thumb and forefinger. “—to destruction. Utter and complete destruction.”

What? If the world had once been in danger of ending, this was the first Michael was hearing about it. “When was this, exactly?”

“Thirteen hundred years ago.”

“I don’t remember a crisis of that proportion during that time period.”

Gabriel approached, eyeing his eldest brother curiously. “Neither do I.”

Raphael’s gaze slid away. “Yes, well. You two didn’t know about it. I didn’t choose to inform you. I handled it alone.” He cleared his throat. “As thoroughly as I could, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michael asked.

“It means I acted to ensure the world’s continued survival, all right?” Raphael dragged a hand through his golden curls. “I thought the issue was over and done with.”

Gabriel’s brows rose. “Hardly. We all know how the Almighty has set up the universe. No solution is unassailable.”

“The Loophole Edict,” Michael said.

“Yes. Exactly. The Loophole Edict.” Gabriel’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious. “Nothing is certain. Possibilities always exist. No matter how sure a thing seems, or how impossible, there’s always a way to do it. Or undo it, as the case may be.”

“Exactly.” Raphael sank down on his throne. “This young heir of Merlin could easily overreach himself, just as his ancestor did, and undo all my hard work. In fact, given the magnitude of the power Arthur now has within reach, it’s more than likely he’ll misuse his magic. Or worse, lose control of it completely.”

“And if he does—” Gabriel tucked his walking stick under one arm and flicked all ten fingers outward, like a bursting star. “Kablooie.”

Michael regarded Raphael uneasily. He’d never seen his overconfident elder brother so troubled. “If you’re that worried, maybe we should wake the Almighty and seek His guidance.”

“No.” Raphael’s head jerked up. “No, no, and no. I forbid it. Two thousand years ago, before the Almighty went down for a well-deserved nap, He gave me two simple commandments.” He counted them off on his fingers. “One—don’t disturb him. Two—the Apocalypse is not, under any circumstances, supposed to happen until He wakes up.” He shuddered. “If I have to wake Him early, Heaven help me.”

There was a brief moment of silence while Michael and Gabriel absorbed this information.

“Then...what are we going to do?” Gabriel ventured.

“I don’t know yet,” Raphael said. “But I swear to you both, by Heaven’s holy gate, I will come up with a plan.”

Somehow, Michael wasn’t reassured.

***

Arthur had found his mother’s touchstone.

He took a quick step backward, as if needing to distance himself from the immensity of his achievement. His foot slipped on the moss; he only just managed not to fall. He staggered to the center of the garden and dropped heavily onto a stone bench. Long moments passed before his breathing slowed and his stomach settled.

He examined the stone with shaking hands. A three-rayed star shone within a translucent blue moonstone. The carved apple wood setting resembled an intricate tangle of vines. An unbroken silver chain passed through the carving. A distant memory called—Arthur’s own this time. He was in his mum’s arms, swatting at the stone. He’d wanted it for himself. His mum had laughed and said it was not yet time.