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As I stepped down the stairs into the garden, I felt everyone's eyes on me, the tension radiating in the air. One false move and it could all be for naught. The golems—hundreds of clay sentinels with eyes that seemed to bore into my soul—shifted their gaze en masse, tracking my movements with eerie precision. Yet, they stood as still as the grave, their ancient faces hard and impassive. The magic binding them to the earth wasdormant, waiting for a trigger. I just hoped that trigger wasn't me nearing their leader. I stopped before the pool, studying the lone figure on the dais. It stood taller than its brethren, its clay coloured a deep crimson in the fiery golden light. An intricate pattern of runes covered almost every inch of its body, a silent testament to Solomon's genius.
With a deep breath, I stepped over the edge of the intricately carved circle sunk into the smooth rock floor and froze. Energy zapped up through my foot, fizzing through my veins and the circle glowed brightly. A wave of energy exploded outwards over the city like some magical pulse, and I gasped at the shock. It hadn’t hurt, but my heart was hammering.
“Tell me that wasn’t another supernatural trip wire,” I called, turning back to look up at Alastor and Theo.
They didn't respond, staring upwards at the ceiling in shock and I looked up as the cavern above twisted into a roiling mass of wings and shadows. Hellions, their bodies contorted and grotesque, swarmed the cavern's ceiling like a dark cloud before a storm. The sound of their leathery wings filled the air, an ominous drumbeat to our impending doom.
"Shit," I hissed, the swear word foreign on my tongue, but oddly fitting at that moment, as more of the creatures spilled out from the buildings etched into the cave walls. These ones were ground based with no wings, but still deadly. They poured forth in droves, a dark tide of malice heading straight for us.
Alastor’s eyes dropped from the chaos above, falling on me. Pain flashed across his face for a moment, then cold resolution.
“Go!" His command cut through the chaos. "We'll keep them off you. Get the scroll and get out of the city. Back to the surface.”
I took another two steps but then my feet faltered, heart slamming against my ribs like it wanted to break free from its cage as his words hit me. Leave them? The thought splintered through me, sharp as the knife I wielded. "I can't—"
"Damn it, Sariel!" Alastor's eyes blazed with a ferocity that matched the hellions descending upon us. "You're the only one who can do this. We hold the line. You run!"
I still hesitated. For the first time the thought crossed my mind that I might not actually care about the greater good as much as I thought if it meant leaving Alastor and Theo behind...
“That's an order, Sariel," he roared.
I forced my eyes from him and turned back towards the pool. Stretching out my wings, I lifted off from the ground, but I had barely moved when heavy clay hands reached out, grabbing at my arms and legs, pulling me back down. I looked down to see several of them beneath me, hands stretching up, faces twisted in grotesque expressions and fear ripped through me. My wings beat hard as I tried to free myself, then suddenly I heard several cracks and a shower of dust. A flash of red flew past my face, so close I could feel the heat and blasted another golem to pieces. I kicked off the remaining two, rising into the air and glancing back. Carlisle and Ash were heading down the temple steps, the human armed with two handguns, and the demon firing off small red fireballs at speed, blasting the golems who were now advancing.
"Appreciate the distraction," I called out. Carlisle nodded and Ash grinned. It was the first time I’d seen the guy really smile and it was maniacal and downright creepy.
Two huge dark shapes streaked past him, and I opened my mouth to shout a warning before I realised that Theo and Alastor had shifted into their primal forms. Together they dove into the nearest group of golems, and dust rained down everywhere as they gave free rein to their beasts. My heart beat faster as I watched, and I reluctantly turned away from the sight as more golems closed in on me, elongated hands reaching out, and a strange moaning noise came from mouths that formed as I watched. I shivered at the sound, but moved away fromthem, across the pool to where the central dais held the golem I needed.
As I landed, the lone golem on it pivoted, its motion eerie—like a rusty weathervane turning against a stormy sky. One rough clay hand reached towards me, and I brought my knife up, instinct and training kicking in. The creature’s hand froze and began to pull back and turn back around. Something inside told me it wasn’t about to attack, and I slipped my knife into my belt.
“We need the scroll and the ring,” I told it. “Others are coming. Others who could use them for evil, but we can protect them.”
The creature stood stock still for a moment, then turned again, reaching out as it had before. Its hand hovered inches from my chest, as if it was waiting. My muscles coiled tight, ready to spring, but I held my ground. Solomon's riddle wound through my mind.
“To the soul unsullied, the heart concedes,” I murmured, understanding. "Judgement day, huh? Ok, go ahead."
The clay hand was cold, impersonal, and it pressed against my chest with the gravity of a judge's gavel, but there was only the cool, unforgiving texture of earth and rock. As if it could sense the pulse of my intentions, it held there, motionless for a heartbeat that dragged into eternity.
A sliver of fear ran through me. A soul unsullied, the rhyme had said. Memories of Alastor’s arms around me, his cock hard at my back as I had brought myself pleasure with his body. I had been wrong. My soul had been sullied. I wasn’t worthy. The hand pulled away and I felt the despair of failure. It moved to mirror the gesture on itself, where a human heart would beat beneath flesh and blood. The golem's fingers disappeared into its chest, and for a moment, all was still. Then a rough grating sound of stone on stone as the golem's hand reemerged clutching the elongated form of a copper scroll. It laid it across both hands, offering it to me.
“Thank you,” I said, relieved to find I wasn’t as tainted as I’d feared. There was hope for me yet.
The golem's response was a bow, a slow nod of acknowledgement and then, as if by some invisible signal, the chaos around us fell silent.
I turned, seeing Alastor and Theo in the midst of the golem army, still as statues themselves as they looked around at the figures that were no longer attacking, just standing still again. Carlisle and Ash stood on the steps, hands and weapons raised ready, watchful and waiting. Then suddenly as one, every single golem in the garden turned toward me, a silent army now frozen once again. But this time, their stillness wasn't eerie; it was almost reverent. As if they recognized something in me, or maybe in the scroll clasped tightly in my hand.
"Well,” I whispered, looking around. “I guess that’s one way to get everyone’s attention.”
I glanced down at the scroll in my hands. Suddenly, the weight of it felt immense. Above us, the hellions hissed and dove towards us in their hundreds. I froze in fear.
“Sariel! Command them!” shouted Ash.
I looked over at him, not understanding.
“The scroll,” he shouted. “It gives you the power to command the golems. They’re yours to command.”
From all around the garden, the ground-based hellions began to tear through the ranks of golems, the stench of their hatred and evil invading the garden as they fought to get near their prey.
I looked down at the golems, standing as if to attention, their eyes on me, and understanding dawned on me. I smiled. I might not feel at home on earth, or working as part of a small team, but give me an army to command and I was home.
