Spirit Fighter (Son of Angels, Jonah Stone) (21 page)

The commander sneered and tried to speak over the shouting. “Stop that! Shut your little mouths before I—”

But before he could finish, the ground started to rumble under their feet. Quietly at first, but quickly it grew stronger. Soon they couldn’t even stand. Jonah, Eliza, and the soldiers were all sprawled out on the ground.

The castle shook violently. Jonah turned his head just in time to see the electrical webbing protecting the castle flicker, and then disappear entirely. The soldiers in the tower guarding Henry began falling over the edge and down onto the stone landing below. Two of them came tumbling out of the door as the ground continued to shake. Henry’s chains had fallen off, and he flew up above the castle, hovering in the sky for a few seconds.

He spotted Jonah and Eliza and shot toward them like a bullet. Grabbing their outstretched hands, he pulled them over to a safer spot, fifty yards away from the tower.

It was not a moment too soon.

Cracks began to form in the dirt all around the castle and quickly turned into gaping holes. The ground was opening up everywhere, and the soldiers began to disappear, one by one. Everything continued to shake, and their commander dug his fingernails into the dirt around him. But it was not enough. He lost his grip and fell into the wide gap below him, deep down into the darkness.

All the soldiers were gone. Abruptly, the ground stopped shaking. Jonah, Eliza, and Henry watched as the giant cracks began to seal themselves up. Within seconds, the earth had healed itself, and everything was just as it had been.

Yet as violently as the castle had shaken, it was still standing.

“The walls didn’t . . . you know . . . come tumblin’ down,” said Jonah.

Henry slapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Remember, we are in the hidden realm, Jonah. The victory is not about bricks and stone coming down. It’s a spiritual battle. Elohim, in His wisdom, has conquered our enemies.”

EIGHTEEN
T
UNNEL TO
W
ARDS
I
SLAND

B
rilliant!” Eliza said, hugging her brother, then, turning to Henry, “I didn’t know if we’d ever see you again. When you went underwater with the leviathan and didn’t come back up . . .”

“He wasn’t letting go, no matter how hard I fought, that was for sure,” said Henry. “There was a rumor among the angels after the great rebellion by Abaddon that he had figured out a way to control and command the leviathan. The only way it would release me is when the Fallen came for me. This must be some kind of holding tower that they use when they have a prisoner.”

“And the soldiers?” asked Eliza.

“Philistines, and their leader, King Achish,” Henry said. When her forehead wrinkled, he added, “Spirits, who used to be men, who warred against the people of Elohim in life. Now in death they are doing the same thing.”

Eliza hugged herself tightly as she looked again at the ground the soldiers had been sucked into.

“Thank you, Jonah. Or maybe we should call you Joshua.” Henry smiled. “Just like when he led the people of Israel in the battle of Jericho. Very creative.”

Jonah shrugged. “The song just kind of came to me. Somehow, I thought it might work.”

They walked through the unguarded front doors of the castle and climbed the narrow staircase until they emerged outside, on top of the tower.

“So this is the place you saw in your vision, right?” asked Eliza.

Jonah looked out over the Great Lawn of Central Park and the surrounding woods. The city skyline rose high in the distance.

“This has to be it. There aren’t any other castles in Central Park, are there?”

“Let’s take a look around,” Eliza suggested. “There must be clues around somewhere that can lead us to Mom.”

They walked back down the steps, Jonah leading the charge. The main level was small. There was a long, wooden counter and a chair behind it. They inspected the room quietly for a few minutes and found nothing except another staircase, going down.

Jonah motioned for Eliza and Henry to follow him. They wound down the stairs and found themselves in a dark basement. Eliza located a light switch and flipped it. Fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating desks, computers, and office furniture scattered all over the room. The floor was laid in stone, covered by a rug in the middle that had embroidered on it a picture of the castle, and the words T
HE
H
ENRY
L
UCE
N
ATURE
O
BSERVATORY
.

“It looks like this place isn’t a real castle,” Eliza said, picking up a brochure from one of the desks. “It’s actually a weather observation post.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t see any signs of Mom or the other nephilim,” Jonah said as he took a disappointed look around the room.

They wandered around for a few minutes, searching for any hints that would point them toward Eleanor Stone. Henry inspected the walls. Eliza shuffled through papers on the desks and tried to log on to the computers, which, of course, were password-protected.

Jonah stood in the middle, trying to think.
Where would they have taken her? Where could they possibly be?

He sighed loudly, frustrated. Was this going to be another dead end, like the Brooklyn Bridge? He kicked irritably at the dirty rug he was standing on, and the edge peeled up. Underneath was more stone, but there was something else.

The rounded edge of a darker surface.

Jonah quickly pulled the rug off of the floor. He uncovered what appeared to be an ordinary manhole cover. But as he knelt down to take a closer look, he noticed subtle, strange markings all over the dark stone.

“Come look at this, guys,” Jonah said as he ran his fingers over the raised images. They were pictures of snakes, the leviathan, and other strange creatures. Next to those were sneering carvings of the Fallen, some holding spears in the air, others spreading their wings fiercely or firing flaming arrows. There were pictures of horrible faces, mouths open like they were screaming.

What drew his eye most, though, was the face in the middle. It was larger than the rest, darkened by a black hood that covered his head. A swath of black hair came down across his left eye, but his right eye was visible, and bloodred. His cheekbones and chin seemed to almost push through his scarred skin. The corner of his mouth not covered by his hair was turned up in a vicious, toothy grin.

“Who is that?” Jonah asked Henry, pointing at the face.

“Pretty obvious, isn’t it, Jonah?” he said gravely. “It is the Evil Lord, the Prince of Darkness. That image is of none other than Abaddon himself.”

“Ew,” Eliza said, her nose crinkling up. “He looks disgusting.”

It was the face of pure evil and it made Jonah shiver. But at the same time he found himself unable to look away. Thankfully, Henry tapped him on the shoulder.

“Why don’t you allow me to pull this stone aside? I think we may have found where they’ve taken your mother.”

Jonah blinked hard a few times, snapping out of his long gaze at the image of Abaddon.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Henry leaned down and stuck his fingers in the holes around the edge of the stone and pulled. It didn’t budge. He tried harder, straining with all of his angel-strength until Jonah thought his wings might pop off. It still didn’t move.

He knelt over it, studying the stone more closely. As he ran his fingers softly over it, a look of concern grew on his face.

“We can’t open this,” he said. “It must be a Door of the Fallen. I’ve never seen one. But if this is what I think it is, it has been sealed with Abaddon’s evil power. Only a fallen one can open it.” He backed up and stood, arms folded, silently staring at the cover.

“Only a fallen one?” said Eliza. “But we have to get in. Our mom has to be somewhere behind this door. What are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to find some fallen angel hanging around who wants to help us destroy Abaddon’s plan to bring the world down?” Jonah could tell she was getting to the end of her rope, waiting for an answer from Henry. He offered none.

They stood around the stone, staring at it silently.

Suddenly Jonah asked, curiously, “Are you sure that
only
a fallen one would be able to open this door?”

Henry cocked his head. “Yes, Jonah. It is known throughout the hidden realm that there are some doors that only those belonging to Abaddon, only the Fallen, can open.”

Jonah, with a mysterious look in his eye, spoke softly. “What about someone who is . . . a
descendant
. . . of a fallen one?”

Henry began to nod slowly. “I see what you are saying. That just might work. But the one who tries needs to be very careful,” he warned. “These things are never as simple as they might appear.”

Jonah looked at Eliza. Before she could say anything, Jonah spoke up.

“Our grandfather is a fallen angel. I’ll try.”

He leaned down over the cover, took a deep breath, stuck his fingers into the holes, and began to pull.

“Aaaah!” he screamed. His hands suddenly felt like they were being held over an open flame. He snatched them away. He expected to see charred skin, or even bone, where his hands used to be. But his fingers looked totally fine.

“Jonah!” Eliza cried. “What is it?”

He continued looking at his fingers. “My hands. It felt like they were on fire.”

Henry took his hands in his and looked at them. “They look, and feel, unharmed.” He looked into Jonah’s eyes, which had welled up with tears from the pain. “But there has to be another way to open this door!” muttered Henry. “There must be.”

But there wasn’t. And they all knew it.

“I’ll try again,” said Jonah.

Before Eliza or Henry could protest, Jonah reached down again and stuck his fingers in the holes of the door.
Keep pulling. No matter what happens, just keep pulling
.

He closed his eyes again and pulled. His hands burned again—but there was more this time. Awful screams ripped through his ears, horrible sounds of people in pain. Wailing and cries of anguish filled his head, knifing down into his brain. Jonah’s heart began to feel heavy, as rough and black as the stone cover he was pulling. His hands were still burning, and the screams caused despair to well up inside of him. His eyes popped open and he looked around, trying to see where the tortured voices were coming from. But there was no one except Eliza, watching him with concern, and Henry, bowing his head in fervent prayer.

Stand firm, Jonah
.

It was just a whisper in his ear, though somehow louder than all of the wailing, which did not disappear, but seemed to have grown quieter.

Stand firm
.

And then words came that pierced him down to his core:
Do not fear, Jonah. You are Mine
.

With these words the screams vanished, and his hands felt as if they had been thrust into a bucket of ice water. He sighed with relief, once again able to focus on trying to open the door. With a new energy coursing through his body, he pulled on the door with all his might. It began to move, rising slowly.

He heard Eliza’s voice, urging him on. “You’re doing it, Jonah! Keep pulling! The door is opening!”

His feet were grinding against the stone floor as the cover continued to move. It was heavier than anything he’d ever lifted, but finally he managed to pull it completely off and set it to the side. Collapsing on his knees, he wrapped his arms around his ribs and breathed deeply.

“Did you guys hear the . . . screams?” he asked, knowing what their answer would probably be.

Eliza knelt beside him and reached a motherly hand up to his forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing her hand away. He knew the look on his face said differently, though.

Only a fallen one could open this door
.

Maybe he had heard Elohim’s voice, but opening the door had proven something to Jonah, something that had been lurking in the back of his mind but that he’d been afraid to admit to himself: there was evil in him. There had been since the day he was born.

“There is no one beyond Elohim’s reach,” Henry said, reading Jonah’s expression. Then he grinned. “Not even grandkids of the Fallen. Now I would suggest we see what’s down here. What do you say?”

Henry went first, jumping down into the hole. Jonah was fine with that, since there was no sign of a floor below and he didn’t have wings that could help him float down. He landed quickly, though, and Jonah could see his face only a few feet away.

“It’s some sort of tunnel,” Henry said. He made a throwing motion with his hands, and a white orb of light appeared in front of him.

Jonah could see the dirt floor now. He hopped down after Henry, then turned and helped Eliza drop down.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see that they were in a small passageway that had been carved out of rock and dirt. Water dripped down the walls in various places, creating a dank smell and a mucky floor. It only led one direction.

“We’re really going to go that way?” Eliza asked, looking down the dark tunnel as she tried to keep her voice from trembling.