All That Is Fallen Read online

  “We have all felt the same pain, Lucio. One cannot live on this world without feeling it at some time or another. Even the foulest sinner feels such pain at some point in his life.”

  “Is that true?” Lucio asked him. “Are there none that do not know suffering?”

  “The dead know nothing.” Mark shrugged.

  “But we do not stay dead. That is the problem. We just keep coming back!” Lucio threw his head back and closed his eyes.

  “You don’t have to come back anymore, Lucio. You can make your choice.” Mark Andrew smiled at him slightly. “At least you have that much comfort.”

  “Why do you keep going? You could leave this place at any time!” Lucio opened his eyes and frowned at Mark.

  “I’m stubborn. I’ve lived as a Godforsaken Scot too long.” Mark said vaguely. “It has always been one of my worst faults. The inability to give up. I know I did try to kill myself once, but it was impossible. I knew it would be impossible, yet I tried anyway. Another sign of pig-headedness. Once I had made up my mind to commit suicide, I would not stop until I was proven wrong.”

  “If I decide to leave this place, will you oblige me?” Lucio almost laughed.

  “Of course!” Mark did laugh and wondered why. “But you will never give up. I know you too well.”

  “Oh. That’s a comfort.” The Knight of the Golden Eagle leaned back on his hands. “Have you heard the news from Baghdad?”

  “Yes. You are referring to Ruth?” Mark Andrew plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers.

  “Si`!” Lucio’s face turned dark. “We should have brought her here.”

  “Should have. Could have. Would have. How many times have we thought these thoughts? You, of all people, should know God has a purpose for everything. No matter how we might disagree… He has a purpose. He knows the plan.”

  “Now you sound like me. What have we become? Interchangeable? I would not be surprised one morning to wake up and discover that I have become Mark Andrew Ramsay and you have become me. Perhaps, we should simple become one, some kind of monstrous beast, and then we might be complete. At least we would be easier to keep up with.” Lucio chuckled. “I suppose God must have a sense of humor.”

  “Oh, aye. Thot ’e does. A few years ago, I wanted to kill you. An old story. Now, it doesn’t seem to matter any more. I could kill you, and someone would take your place.”

  “Really?” Lucio frowned at him.

  “Of course.” Mark shrugged slightly. “I have lost everyone I’ve ever cared for. One more would not make so much difference.”

  “That’s ludicrous!” Lucio sat straight up. “You haven’t lost Luke Matthew! And what about Lemarik? And Paddy Puffingtowne? And Michael? And Christopher Stewart. And you know that John Paul and Meredith are not dead… well, not really.”

  “But where are they?” Mark turned his blue eyes on the Italian. “Will I ever live happily ever after with my family? Gregory and Nicholas? Look at my daughter. Look at my grandson, Bari. And let’s not forget Semiramis. The wonderful Semiramis. I could look her up, I suppose. Perhaps she would turn me into a grouse next time and have me for dinner. All I have to look forward to is war and more war and now I have to contend with Lucifer again. Furthermore, I can’t even get a good dram of Scotch in this wilderness.”

  “I take it that you and he… Lucifer… did not get along?” Lucio’s eyebrows went up. It was still hard for him to imagine that he was sitting here speaking so calmly to an angel about the creature he had always considered to be the Devil. Especially an angel with whom he shared so many unique memories.

  “About like us with a few reservations.” Mark Andrew told him. “That is not to say you are anything like him.”

  “You call this creature ‘he’ and ‘him’. I can’t say it looked much like a ‘he’ to me. In fact, when I first saw it… him standing in front of Simon, I thought he… it was a woman.” Lucio scowled unhappily. “I have never studied angel lore, Brother. Tell me… is Lucifer and these others… are they truly… would you really classify them as… male?”

  “Not really, but it’s nicer than calling them ‘its’. They might not appreciate that too much.”

  Mark Andrew stood up. He did not want to get into this conversation with Lucio. It was too close to the banned topic they had agreed not to discuss. It was becoming very obvious he and the Italian would have less and less to talk about... safely. “It is simply a convenience. Traditionally speaking, Lucifer has always been thought of as male, so we’ll leave it at that. Perhaps you should take up the study after all, but don’t put your trust in the words written by men.”

  “Would you kindly give me a reading list then? Perhaps the names of some books written by angels?” Lucio looked up at him expectantly.

  “You could read the Emerald Tablets.” Mark suggested. “But you already have, haven’t you? Or perhaps the writings of a certain alchemist called Hermes? Oh, but that is your specialty, isn’t it?”

  “Those things do not give any information on the subject of the gender of angels. I have read every word.”

  “Then take a hint. What difference does it make? The point is one of the things missing from men… man… humanity… is women and vice versa. If you ever achieve your own version of Nirvana, you will understand it.”

  “That’s what I hate about you.” Lucio looked away from him. “You have all the answers, and you refuse to share them with anyone.”

  “That’s not true. I set everything I know down more than once, and no one knows how to read it in any language. I can lead the horses to water, but I can’t make them drink. Stop worrying about your sons. He won’t hurt them. He is not the devil in spite of what people may think. Stop worrying and reflect on what you learned in the pyramid.” Mark Andrew turned on his heel and Lucio leapt to his feet. “You might ask Simon or Louis, for God’s sake.”

  “You were there! I saw you. I talked to you!” Lucio called after him. “How can you be there and here at the same time?”

  “How can you not know the answer to that question?” Mark Andrew did not look back, but continued on his way. “Perhaps you need to take up Quantum Physics as well.”

  As Mark walked away, Lucio heard him chuckling to himself. The man was incorrigible.

  Chapter Two of Twenty-Two

  A thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night.

  Bombarik stood on the windswept balcony of Adalune’s desert palace. The hot wind made him shudder as if it were a polar breeze. The scarf of his turban whipped about his face and a set of brass wind chimes tinkled in the warm air. He placed one hand on his jeweled dagger and walked quietly through the open colonnades, brushing aside the colorful, silken draperies. He had not wanted to come here. It was very dangerous, but his Master had given him over to the service of the Lord of the Sixth Gate. At least he was free of the presence of the Queen and her disgusting troop of boggans. He was sick of roasted horsemeat and faery wine. If he could succeed at this mission, he might be able to wrangle his own freedom. Next time, he would do things differently.

  Drawing a deep breath through his long nose, he could sense the presence of his sons in this place. The mighty Djinni would have them somewhere in captivity here. They would be far too dangerous for Adalune to consider releasing or even pressing into service. Most likely they were confined to the dungeons or perhaps contained in some magickal vessel.

  An old woman sat on a stone bench peeling oranges, humming softly to herself. She squinted at him from the depths of her wrinkled face momentarily before recognizing him as a stranger. She dropped the basket of fruit and stood up as he approached her, preparing to scream or run away, but he raised one hand and she froze.

  He stopped in front of her and swayed slightly before leaning to look into her face.

  “Old woman.” He said softly. “Do not fear me. I have come to see your Master. You will bring him for me?”

  She nodded her head sli
ghtly, and he touched one finger to her forehead.

  The old woman gathered the spilled oranges from the floor, replaced them in the basket and then shuffled off down the corridor. Bombarik sat down on the bench and began to eat one of the luscious fruits. It was wonderful. Heavenly. He’d not had such since he’d lived in the high mountains of the east with the two women and the boy. He reflected on that time and the mistakes he had made in his haste to restore his race to the world. There had been no need for such haste. He had plenty of time. He stopped chewing and moved his head back and forth like a bird, listening intently to the sounds of the palace. He could here the voices of birds and the snoring of a great cat. There were other voices. The soft murmurings of the servants as they went about their tasks and the most pleasing of all… Jasmine’s voice.

  He did not have to wait long before he heard footsteps hurrying toward him. The old woman reappeared, pointing at him from an arabesque doorway covered with brightly colored tiles. Behind her, was the tall figure of the wizard. He wore his favorite purple robe and a deep frown on his dark face.

  “Ho, Bombarik!” The Djinni swayed toward him across the marble floor. He had made improvements to his palace. Inlaid in the marble were thin slices of geometrically shaped precious stone, depicting breathtaking scenes full of exotic flowers, birds and animals in fanciful poses. Lapis lazuli, turquoise, ruby, emerald, amethyst, amber, onyx and even gold and silver gleamed in the snow white marble. It now resembled the famous Taj Mahal, a magnificent tomb he had visited in India. “What brings you to my home uninvited and unexpected?”

  The yellow Djinni stood up and bowed low to his rival, touching two fingers to his heart and his forehead.

  “I am at your service, mighty Adalune.” He said and then rose up again. “A thousand pardons for my insolence, but I did not have time to arrange a proper invitation.” He held out both hands to show that he held no threat. “I am alone and have no servants. I am afraid I must do my own work.”

  “Why are you offering your services to me?” Lemarik held up his head and looked down his long nose at his adversary. “Do you think I have forgotten you?”

  “I should think you would not forget me. It would be a shame if you should, for that would mean I am of no importance. You and I were once equals. Now I am in the service of the dark Lord, and this is no small grievance to me. I have been offered a chance for freedom and you, alone, in all the world, may appreciate the meaning of such. There is very little I would not do in order to secure my own freedom from bondage. My Lord has assured me you are in need of my services and that, by serving you, I may also serve his needs as well. In return for my success, I may be released. I am quite sure we can come to some terms of agreement. All would benefit, and even those of whom we know nothing, and who know nothing of us, would also benefit from our success.”

  Lemarik narrowed his eyes and considered the truth of the Ifrit’s words.

  “And what assurance might I have that you would not again turn your sword against me and mine should we come away victorious?” Lemarik stood where he was. He would not invite this creature into his home. Jasmine would be most distressed to see him there. “There are many grievances between you and me. Much blood and sorrow. My beautiful Jasmine suffered grave indignities at your hand.”

  “And your beautiful son and granddaughter suffer much at the hands of the enemy.” Bombarik reminded him. “My Lord’s daughter has also fallen into his hands and her husband, the son of your father’s Brother, as well as, your father’s grandsons, who now also suffer at the same vile hands. Just as my own sons suffer under your yoke, Adalune, your kith and kin are at the mercy of the dark one.”

  “You speak of the daughter of Marduk.” Lemarik nodded. “The Healer and his family are special to me as you say. Not one second passes when I am not thinking of my beautiful son and what has befallen him. If you have come to play treachery on me because of my broken heart, I will not take kindly to you. As you have pointed out, you and I were once equals, and you know what I am capable of doing to your sons.”

  “I am most aware of the danger to my sons, and I have no lingering desire for their mother. I wish only for her happiness, and I honor her memory greatly. Nothing would please me more than to know her sons were safe from harm.” Bombarik used a different angle to remind the Djinni of the ties between Jasmine and his sons. She had often asked him about their health though she had known them for a very short time. A mother’s love could not be bought and sold, nor erased completely. “If you were to grant me one of my sons and keep the other as surety, I would be eternally indebted to you. That is, of course, if you accept my offer of assistance and we are successful against the enemy.”

  “And what assistance can you offer?” Lemarik walked around him and sat down on the bench, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I have learned much from my Lord Marduk and my Master Nergal. Your granddaughter’s bravery is spoken of very highly. She was only defeated by chance. Lord Marduk has the knowledge to defeat the enemy, but the enemy must be drawn out, and there is a certain artifact in his possession that lends great magnitude to his powers. It is Lord Marduk’s considered opinion that he holds your loved ones much as you hold my sons and their release is not impossible. Lord Marduk wishes to banish him to the beyond, but he is afraid as long as the Ancient Evil holds this particular artifact. He has instructed me to help you gain possession of the thing. This vile creature… this piece of camel offal… this steaming heap of jackal dung also holds sway over your grandson, Bari Caleb and your sister, Nicole. You have much to gain from his defeat. Would the price of one of my sons be too much to ask in return for so many?”

  “Not at all!” Lemarik answered truthfully. “My father has instructed me to wait. I would not wish to complicate matters by rash actions; therefore, we may have time for discourse. What do you propose we do, my brother?”

  “There are many options. I think we should consider everyone of them with great caution, and then make our plans. I am… at your service for as long as you may wish.” The Ifrit bowed again before the Mighty Djinni. “Your father’s people are migrating back to the north lands. It would be wise to cast protection over this place, and go there to Council with Lord Adar and Lord Nebo. My Lord Nergal has blessed me with knowledge of a great council that is to take place very soon. If we could present to them this artifact, or perhaps another, we may further their cause as well as our own. It would not be wise to consider confronting the Ancient One without help, but we may be able to weaken him considerably by stealth and deception. My Lord Nergal presented my present Master, the magnificent Lord Marduk, with a precious gift, which he bestowed upon me to use as you see fit.”

  “Ahhhh.” Lemarik’s face lit up. “Show me this precious gift, Master Bombarik, that I might judge its worth.”

  The yellow Ifrit sat down on the marble floor and reached into one of the numerous pockets under his robe. He drew out a black silk bag and held it reverently in both hands.

  “We must not take it out until the sun is down.” Bombarik told him. “This is the amulet that the lone wanderer of the wastelands drew from the ashes of the unholy priests of the Ancient One in the mountains of Nirbem! The very amulet that my Lord Marduk possessed from the Mad Arab and has held in his possession for all these years!”

  “Ahhhh. Ohhhhh.” Lemarik’s dark eyes widened. He reached for the bag, but drew back his hand cautiously. “But you say that your Lord Nergal presented this amulet to Lord Marduk. How came Lord Nergal to possess the treasure of Marduk? The amulet of the power of the moon, which may hold off even the ancient terrors? How can this be so?”

  “My Lord Nergal received it as a gift from the Lord of the Fourth Gate.” Bombarik’s eyes glowed with pride at having knowledge the Marid did not possess. His sing-song voice betrayed his arrogance. “Lord Shammash has been the keeper of the precious relic for several years now. He recovered it from the cave of the knocker when Lord Marduk was dissipated by Queen Ereshkigal wh
ilst in his weakened state. When he was defeated by her immense power, the amulet was left behind even as your father’s Brother carried him wounded and dying from the cave! The disturbance awoke Lord Shammash and he ascended into the underworld to see the havoc wreaked by Marduk and Ereshkigal as they strove to destroy Lord Adar when he lived in ignorance of his own power. If Lord Adar had but known this amulet lay in the ruins of the cave, he could have saved himself much trouble.”

  “But Lord Shammash is of the sun. His eminence and radiance would destroy such a treasure. So it is written that the sun’s rays must not fall upon the amulet lest it be destroyed.” Lemarik drew back suspiciously from the proffered gift, suspecting treachery. He thought perhaps the Ifrit would attempt to entrap him in some magickal vessel.

  “Ahhh! You do know something of the amulet. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Bombarik nodded and smiled broadly at him. “That is true! But remember the darkness of the cave in which it was lost. The rays of the sun had never reached so far within the stone mountains. Shammash did not appear in his glory, but disguised as a mortal wizard, covering his radiant countenance under a heavy robe. He recognized the amulet, covered it with black silk and placed it in this bag for he knew tit might be needed one day.”

  “Ahhh. Lord Shammash is most wise and worthy of the Watchers!” Adalune nodded solemnly. “But how can I use this thing? It is most powerful!”

  “But you are like your father.” Bombarik laughed softly and laid the small bag in the center of a stylized lotus made of inlaid alabaster and rose quartz. “You are the spawn of the gods, Adalune. I am not pleased to tell you this. You were never a Djinni from the first. Have you forgotten? Your mother is the goddess, Semiramis. Your father, Lord Adar of the Seventh Gate. You are not a Marid. You were never a Marid! You are no more of the race of Djinni than Lord Marduk or Lord Shammash. The only difference between you and your father is your young age. There is nothing he can do that you cannot do. Surely, you recognize the truth of my words. Not only you, but your half-brother, the one called Luke Andrew! He is not a Scotsman as he pretends to be, wearing the Ramsay colors on his skirts. He is a most exasperating creature. But he is very young! A mere babe in comparison to you. Take the amulet! Cast your spells over your palace and hide it from the eagles and the carrion crow who are spies of the Ancient One. Tonight, when the full face of Anu falls upon your balcony, take out the amulet and listen to the past. Tomorrow we will go into Persia and find the relic that will give me freedom and bring about the release of your children.”