The Descent of the Gods

Trap

Instead of one long bridge, the space across the river was broken up into three individual bridges. The first was founded on Nod's own soil, but a jutting rock formation that raised it high above the river. The second two bridges were built on massive stones in the Euphrates itself, both rising above the waves and providing a foundation for the guard towers and the raising mechanisms located at each. 

The bridges were not quite finished - some areas were still waiting for the final planking to be installed, and so Azrael gingerly raced across beams arced over gaping holes in the construction. 

The men following him moved forward across those areas with more care, but still the whole group crossed the series of three bridges in less than five minutes. Azrael stood at the end of the bridge, facing the gaping blackness of the forest. The others joined him.

"Put the torches out!" Azrael said, hurling his own torch end over end into the river behind them. His companions did likewise.

Azrael entered the darkness. The others followed. Even with angels among them, all shared a feeling of ominous dread. At first, they moved slowly, expecting at any moment to be ambushed by the thousands of warriors they imagined laying in wait for them.

When no such attack came, they began moving more swiftly forward and spread out to cover more ground - each man putting ten paces between him and the next. And they swept through the forest, Azrael in the center setting the pace faster and faster.

Silently, they plunged forward. Azrael only had one direction to go by - Enoch's had pointed out the way the boat had crossed the river. He only hoped the direction was still the right way to find Naamah before she was taken too far for him to find.

Taking human form had its disadvantages. As a Watcher, he could easily see through to the darkest places and pass with hardly any effort over huge tracts of space. Confined to the mortal realm, his powers had all but vanished.

Suddenly, Azrael knew something was not right. He halted, motioning for the angels flanking him to signal out to the others to stop. 

"What is it, Azrael?"

He wasn't sure at first. But he could sense anger in the woods just beyond his ability to see. Then he felt it coming towards them, fast. And then Azrael saw.

On the flank of their advance, Sariel waited to see why Azrael had stopped their advance. In the momentary stillness, he distinctly heard a woman calling for help to his right. He moved that direction quietly, but heard nothing. He looked back to where the band of rescuers had been strung out, but now he could see nothing. He was just about to turn around and notify the others what he had heard, when he heard the voice call out again, this time more urgently. Someone was in mortal peril!

He bounded away from the others, winding through rocky crags that punctured the forest floor. He suddenly realized that the voice didn't sound like Naamah's at all. It really sounded like Maori's!

He heard her cry out again, and now he was certain it was Maori! She must have been taken too! He rushed forward, swiftly narrowing in on the sound.

Ferocious beasts barreled toward them through the forest. Instinctively, Azrael knew this was not a coincidence. He had never visited the Herabite fortress himself, even before descending to earth, but he knew from his spies that the Herabites bred creatures such as these, training them for their sinister purposes. Now they had prepared a real ambush, with bloodthirsty, fearless beasts.

As the creatures leaped forward to tear the angels and men limb from limb, Azrael realized why Naamah had been taken. Herab needed to convince his troops that the angels were nothing to fear, if he ever hoped he would conquer Nod and take his vengeance. If the morning broke, and his troops could see that a few wild animals were able to slay a few angels in the attack, they would be emboldened - they would take up their war cries once again and attack Nod. Before Nod was ready to withstand such an attack.

"Kill them!" Azrael shouted to his comrades. The blood of man was precious in God's sight. The blood of beasts was not. As soon as these creatures lay dead, they could continue the advance. Every second delayed meant Naamah was taken farther away. He couldn't let that happen!

Azrael gritted his teeth as a massive hulking brute of a beast headed straight for him. Herab will not take us down so easily, he thought, sidestepping the beast's attack. The other angels readied their blades and engaged their attackers in battle, their slashes and thrusts deadly.

Azrael regretted not taking a sword - it would have made it possible to dispatch his attacker immediately. It spun around, clawed feet gouging the forest floor as it lunged at him again, razor sharp teeth barred.

Not far away, Tubal was knocked flat in the attack. He struggled to regain his feet, but a heavy, clawed paw landed on his rib cage, forcing him back down onto the ground. A snarling face appeared over his, and the horrible mouth opened wide to snap his neck.

Tubal didn't notice the howling whine of the incoming stone hurtling through the forest. But he saw what it did when it found its mark. The beast's ravenous face was knocked sideways by the impact of the rock on it's cheekbone. The beast let out a angry howl and as it turned to see where the new attack had originated, Enoch's staff landed in its face again, and the spearhead drove through its skull and embedded itself into the creature's brain cavity.

Enoch helped Tubal to his feet, and quickly wrapped his sling back around his wrist.

"You ok?" Tubal still had the wind knocked out of him, and could only nod vigorously. Enoch smiled. 

"Looks like I made it just in time!" Enoch said with a quick laugh, pulling the staff free from the beast's body.

"Thank you!" Tubal managed. 

"Time for thanks later. Come on!" Enoch said, running into the woods. Tubal picked up his own blade and followed.

They burst onto a scene that made them stop in their tracks.