The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(78)

The ball moved deftly, dodging fiends and falling stone. Cybele’s eyes followed the gleaming gold as it flitted through the yellow murk, climbing ever higher. Spinning through a gap in the stone, it plunged into the golden gauze of the celestial seal.

For a moment, Cybele thought Raphael’s barrier would hold. Then a fine network of spidering cracks appeared, spreading darkly from the point of the winged ball’s impact. Chunks of golden light began to fall, revealing the night sky behind.

“Yes.” Dusek’s cry was triumphant. “Yes.” He started out of the niche, shoving Cybele before him. As his wings lifted, an angry rumble shook the ground.

The cave floor heaved. Dusek lost his balance. Cybele didn’t miss her chance. She let her body go limp, causing her captor to pitch forward at the unexpected shift of her weight. She twisted to one side and, arms still pinned by the hellfire lashes, slammed her head up into his jaw.

His head whipped to one side. His body half-turned with it. The silver disc about his neck swung sideways on its chain, striking the cave wall. A jagged line appeared down the center. The silvery liquid trembled and separated. The broken halves coalesced into two smaller, perfect circles.

One disc remained attached to the chain. The other fell to the cave floor. A sphere of brilliant light bounced out of it, spinning sharply upward. With a loud pop! the light became a baby—a chubby baby with wings and a slightly tarnished gold ring wobbling wildly above its head. Cybele stared at it in amazement.

“Wheeeeee!” the infant cried. Iridescent feathers whirred. Feathers, Cybele realized, that matched those on the golden ball that had broken the celestial seal. White swaddling clothes, quickly unraveling from the baby’s chubby form, streamed free.

Dusek uttered a foul cry. He grabbed at the baby. The little creature was too swift. He evaded the Nephil’s fingers. Zigzagging wildly, he ricocheted off the cave walls like a demented ping pong ball. At one point he buzzed past Dusek’s nose. The Nephil swatted at him with one hand, but couldn’t quite catch him.

The Alchemist’s other hand, unfortunately, remained gripped around Cybele’s upper arm. Again she twisted and kicked, with little to show for it. Until the cherub—that had to be what the winged baby was—flung himself at Dusek’s chest.

Grabbing hold of the silver chain with one hand, the angel pounded on the part of the mirror still attached to it. “Maweth? Maweth? You in there? Are you all right?”

Dusek swiped at the angel. This time, his grip on Cybele slackened. She wrenched free. Without so much as a single backward glance, she took off down the tunnel.

Running was treacherous. Dusek’s hellfire kept her arms lashed to her sides, making it difficult to keep her balance. She navigated crumbling ground, dodging fire and fiends. It took all her concentration to remain upright as she stumbled back toward the cave’s main chamber.

Something caught her from behind. Her head snapped back. “Not so fast, my love.”

Dusek. He yanked her head around, his fingers digging painfully into her scalp. Damn it all to Oblivion. She should’ve hacked off her hair when she’d had the chance.

Incredibly, the little angel was still clinging to Dusek’s silver chain. “Maweth? Maweth?” His voice hitched up an octave. “Answer me!”

Dusek, ignoring the angel, gave Cybele’s head a vicious shake. “You will learn obedience. Starting now.”

“Fuck you.” She spat in his face.

A fist connected with her jaw. Pain exploded. Her head whipped to one side. Using her hair as a tether, Dusek gave her another shake. He slapped her across the cheek. Her head snapped back the other way.

“You may look forward to more of that,” he said harshly. “I know I will.”

“You think you can make me obey you?” Cybele snarled. “Forget it. I’ll kill you. I’ll gut you while you sleep. I’ll poison your food. I’ll cut off your—”

“Maaaaawethhhhhh!” The angel, apparently oblivious to his surroundings, pounded on the mirror.

Dusek looked down. “As for you—enough.” The Nephil tore the angel off his chest and threw him to one side. The angel ricocheted off a falling rock, swayed dizzily for a second, and then seemed to regain his bearings. He looked at Dusek. His expression darkened.

“You!” A missile of incandescent light slammed into Dusek’s face. The Nephil staggered backward. His grip went slack. Cybele fell, her knees hitting the ground with a painful jolt. A falling rock hit her on the shoulder. Looking up, she saw a boulder tumbling toward her. She rolled swiftly toward the cave wall. The massive stone crashed down, barely missing her.

Dusek, cursing, clawed at the angel. Pudgy infant legs locked tightly around his throat. One chubby little hand grabbed a fistful of his hair. The other rained choppy blows on the Nephil’s nose.

“Take that!” the angel cried. Punch! “And that!” Smack! “You!” Slap! “Bad!” Thump! “NEPHIL!”

Dusek fought his tiny assailant absurdly. Hellfire was no use. The little angel seemed immune to it. And each time the Nephil managed to pry a chubby arm or leg off his face or neck, it slipped through his fingers and splatted back into place.

“You hurt!” Smack! “My friend!” Punch! “Bad. Bad! BAD!”

The sulfurous fog was thickening. Cybele could barely see through it. Her lungs burned. The world was falling rock, leaping flame, beating wings, and unholy shrieking. The ground was cracking beneath her. The entire hill was collapsing into the abyss. If she couldn’t find Arthur and get out of here, they’d both fall into whatever corner of Hell the fiends had escaped.