Sin of the Saints (Between Delusion and Sobriety Duet #2)

Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bellcolor

N aomi Fermi is Naama, the eldest child of Lilith.

I kneel in front of the toilet and try to vomit up the heavy lump in my throat, the weight on my soul, but nothing comes out. Nothing can ease this torment of realizing that Valentina held the reincarnation of the demoness who made me the damaged person I am today. My eyes well up and I choke. How can I keep the innocence Lilith wished for me to hold onto? It’s impossible. It’s monstrous. I enjoyed what we did. I loved it.

The grotesque vision rises up again and again, and I try to vomit out the filth that continues to spread inside me, threatening to overtake me. Bar is gone. I refuse to believe Bar had any part in this, however small, that he could do this.

I collapse by the toilet and try to arrange my riotous thoughts. I have to flee from here before they take me down into the abyss with them. I find the strength to stand on my shaking legs and step out into the bedroom. I feel like an intruder. Not just into the deceased couple’s bedroom, but in the lands of Adam as well.

Is there a place for me in this world?

I don’t look back and jump out the bedroom window, rapidly flapping my wings and ascending into the skies. I have to get away from Hillel and Naama as quickly as I can, before they realize I’m gone. At a distance I notice the lingering smoke and chaos we created at the cabin, and I’m mortified to discover that the fire is spreading fast. I hear sirens, other search and rescue teams making their way towards the flames, and my heart starts racing at the thought that Libretto, or the Army of the Saints, might find me.

Panicking, I run the possible scenarios through my mind. Hillel has awakened. Which means the Devil himself walks the lands of Adam. If the Army of the Saints knew that, they’d go hunting for him. They sent Bartimaeus to banish me, and now, with his true form revealed, they won’t let go, not of me and definitely not of Hillel. The most important war in human history may take place in the realms of Man, without them even being aware of it.

A cool breeze caresses my face and I let out a sigh of relief. The panic only stokes the inner fire burning within me, giving me no rest. I remember the curtain blowing in my bedroom at home, that same feeling. At the time I’d chuckled at the thought of it being a divine revelation, but could that have been precisely what it was? God’s way of telling me I wasn’t alone, as He bestowed some of His powers upon me?

If I want answers, I’ll have to go back to the start of it all, my beginning. The only book that, thanks to Bar, showed me the path: the Book of the Hebrews, the Old Testament.

The land of the Hebrews is loud. Its humans speak with their hands, and it seems they can speak in no other tone but shouting. I watch this chaos, the melting pot on the verge of exploding, and I sense the tension in this place.

Intensity. I suppose it’s the only word that can describe this sacred city.

When I landed on the outskirts of the city I realized the collar was a greater problem than I’d thought. From Lilith’s memories I know she has the power to change shape, but the collar blocks her abilities. When a woman in black crosses a nearby alley, I know it’s no coincidence. I follow her, land a blow to her head and steal her clothes, which cover almost every part of my skin, especially my wings and aura.

Thus I enter the most bustling lion’s den I’ve ever seen, without revealing my identity. But damn it, the price of that anonymity is high. The burning sun in this place is nothing like what I know. Even in the memories of Lilith, who lived within the fires of Hell, that heat is unlike this nightmare heat.

But I have no choice. If humanity only knew that the Devil was after me and might be walking among them, Armageddon would erupt right there.

I follow the shining structure that serves as a lighthouse in the chaos of the throng. Better to walk to my destination and enter on foot. I don’t think descending from the sky will be seen as a quiet entrance. People would, to put it lightly, lose their minds.

I lower my head as I feel many eyes staring at me. The one time I dare raise my head slightly, I run into armed soldiers and almost lose my wits. My first thought is that the Council has come for me. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone that heavily armed, more so even than the guards at Libretto’s castle. It’s like they’re geared up for war. But the armed soldiers are talking and laughing, and I manage to breathe again. Despite their intimidating appearance, they seem to be young men having fun. What on earth would make children into vessels of war?

I need to calm down. I can’t draw attention to myself. But I can’t help wondering how such a holy land could become an arena for war.

I take another look at the child-soldiers. An older man walks by them, spits in their direction and hisses out a curse in a language I can’t understand. One of them seems like he’s about to respond, but his friends hold him back and calm him down. I release the air in my lungs. Damn, I’m more tense than they are. One pats the furious boy-soldier’s shoulder and says something with a gleeful smile, and the soldier relaxes and joins in their laughter.

Children who know war, yet retain their innocence, I think, and turn my gaze from them.

The crowd grows the closer I get to my destination, and I quickly realize that the term ‘private space’ doesn’t exist in these humans’ lexicon. Sweaty bodies bump into each other, loud sounds, car horns and gusts of exhaust fumes blur my vision. It’s too much.

I pass through the heavy security barrier and all the noise stops at once. The crowd thins out in the large plaza, and I can finally draw fresh air into my lungs. A cool breeze hits me and I pause before a golden dome at the top of an octagonal structure decorated with breathtaking mosaic tiles.

“Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear 1 .”

“ And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so 2 .”

I recall the passages we studied in Bar’s class. The land, the sea, the sun. All are here right in front of me as though I were witnessing the creation of the world firsthand.

The rays of the burning sun are reflected and magnified off the golden dome, and I shade my eyes, unable to look directly at it. It’s as though God knows I’m unworthy. At this moment I believe that of all the places in the world – God is here. I feel the sanctity of this place, it burns me with beams of light disguised as the scalding sun. I shouldn’t be here , I pull back in terror. The sun burns me, a warning I must heed. I want to run, but the looks the humans are giving me paralyze me. I mustn’t draw attention , I repeat the words again and again like it has the power to calm the storm I’m immersed in. With no other choice, I walk right into the place I’m forbidden from entering. But despite the warning I hear in my mind, I encounter a cold that soothes my fears. Relief floods me and I open my eyes to find the stone ruins at the heart of the structure.

Is that all? I think, disappointed.

“It’s the Foundation Stone,” I hear an English-speaking tour guide explain to the group of tourists standing before him in awe. “They say it’s the cornerstone of the world.”

I approach the rail and examine the ruins, what’s left of the first realm of Man, where I first opened my eyes, before it became a petri dish of obscenity, ruin and hatred. Nothing remains of it but rubble. Nothing is left.

I tremble at the cold that lingers in this place, like someone’s poured ice water over me and put out my raging flames, and I raise my eyes to the arched ceiling.

“He’s not here.” The bitter truth slips out of my lips. “I’ve come in vain.”

I turn and quickly march out of the chilling place. The sanctity within is an illusion, nothing more. I move beyond the boundaries of the site and run; my eyes blurry with tears. So many people bump into me, so many people around me that I lose what little composure I still had. Someone addresses me in an unfamiliar language.

“Miss, are you alright?” He says to me again, this time in broken English. His accent is heavy. I lift my eyes and encounter the boy-soldier I’d seen before. “I thought you spoke Arabic, but you actually responded to English. You surprised me.” He smiles at me affectionately.

“I-I…” I stutter, unable to complete the sentence.

“Here, you look like you could use something to drink,” He holds out a cup of cold water, and I chuckle. “No?” He raises an eyebrow. “There’s nothing cold water can’t cool in this country of ours. Drink, don’t be embarrassed.” He brings the cup close to me again, and I nod.

I react to his words. “Where does your water come from?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He laughs. I narrow my eyes and look him over. His smile is pure , I think. “Well,” he scratches his head, trying not to turn his curious stare upon me. “From the Kinneret, of course.”

“God created the water to keep Lilith away,” I blurt out without thinking, the wheels in my head starting to turn.

The boy-soldier gasps and pulls back. “Lilith? We don’t say that name here.” He looks around with a haunted expression.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly say. “I think I have heat stroke.” I wave dismissively, and as I notice terror take a hold of him, I realize my hands are glowing with a crimson light that’s stronger than ever.

“Miss…” he stammers, awestruck, but I don’t stick around to deal with the consequences. I run as fast as I can and disappear into the crowd before he can realize that Lilith is not just a name: She’s flesh and blood and she’s here, in the lands of Adam.