Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Cain stalked through the sculpted archway, passing pretty marble pillars and the intricately carved animal totems. His eyes caught on the old, rudimentary carvings on the wall up ahead that told the story of his kind. He remembered bringing Wynter here. Remembered explaining what the various symbols meant, even as he’d feared she’d pull away from him once she learned the truth of what he was and, more, who his father was.
But she hadn’t. His own personal miracle had been more bothered by the fact that cherubim blood flowed in his veins.
Coming to a spiral staircase, Cain descended it slowly, his footsteps echoing. At the bottom, he moved to the arch that featured a wrought-iron gate. A padlock kept it closed—one that could only be opened by an Ancient. So a zap of Cain’s power was enough to unlock it. The gate slowly swung open. He and the other Ancients then filed into the grotto there.
The smooth rock walls and arched ceiling glimmered like they’d been dusted with gold. Cain lit the torches with a flick of his hand. The flames danced and sliced through the shadows, illuminating the natural hot spring.
Energy fairly bounced around the space, static and wild. The scents of damp rock, minerals, algae, and mildew laced the air—air so thick, moist, and hot it was uncomfortable to inhale.
It also hummed with power.
Abaddon’s power.
If any nosy residents somehow managed to get this far, they wouldn’t understand what was down here. Wouldn’t have a clue what was so special about this grotto. Wouldn’t understand that the natural hot spring protected an Ancient.
Yes, they slept in water when they went into the deep state of Rest. Not many people were aware of that. He suspected it was where tales of Leviathans being sea monsters came from.
Cain walked toward the spring, feeling the heat of the smooth stone through the soles of his shoes. The turquoise water lapped at the stone edges, burbling and steaming. White/blue flickers of power crackled along the surface like miniature whips of lightning.
“I’m not getting any sense that he’s close to waking,” said Ishtar.
“No, nor am I.” Inanna let out a disappointed sigh.
Cain exchanged a brief look with Azazel. It might seem that Abaddon was sleeping deeply. But the fact that Wynter had been called to the garden several times suggested differently.
Cain swept his gaze along the other Ancients. “Shall we begin?”
They nodded or murmured their agreement. Then, as one, they knelt on the smooth stone ledge.
Subtle vibrations buzzed against Cain’s kneecaps, and the steamy air rising from the well fanned his face. As he was deep in the shadowy depths of the spring, it wasn’t possible to see or physically touch Abaddon from there. But touching him wouldn’t be enough to wake him anyway.
As Cain reached down to dip his hand inside the well, the water burbled upward and closed over his hand, silky and hot; tiny air bubbles brushed over his skin. Seeing that the other Ancients were ready, he nodded. Together, they chanted in their old language, calling for their fellow Leviathan to join them, as they poured their power into the water to stir him awake.
When they had recently woken Inanna in much the same way, it had only taken one try. It usually did. But Abaddon hadn’t fallen into a simple rejuvenating Rest, and he hadn’t been asleep for a mere century or so. He’d been in this state for a millennia. So it didn’t entirely surprise Cain when nothing happened.
“Let us try again,” urged Seth.
And so they did. Still, the ritual failed to wake Abaddon.
His jaw clenched, Dantalion cricked his neck. “Once more.”
Again, they chanted and flooded the water with power. Again, nothing happened.
“I say we return tomorrow evening,” said Lilith as everyone rose to their feet. “The more frequently we try, the more chance we have of success.”
Ishtar shook droplets of water from her hand. “Or we are merely wasting our time,” she snarked.
Lilith gave her a cold smile. “Either way, it will do us no harm, will it?”
They made their way out of the temple and back to the Keep.
Azazel lingered when the others left and turned to Cain. “Given what we believe causes your consort to sleepwalk, I didn’t think your uncle would be so hard to wake.”
Cain shrugged. “The longer an Ancient has been asleep, the more difficult it can be to wake them.”
Azazel inclined his head. “True.” He sighed. “I really hope Ishtar’s wrong and that our efforts to disturb his Rest will pay off.”
“I believe they will,” said Cain. “We just have to accept that this may take time.”
Azazel grunted. “The problem is we don’t have much of that.”
*
Wynter’s eyelids fluttered as sleep began to slowly lose its hold on her. Her heels scuffed the ground as someone dragged her limp form backwards, their hands tucked beneath her armpits. Her monster was pushing against her skin, furious, wanting out. It seemed to only be the cautioning preternatural breeze fluttering around Wynter that kept the monster in check.