the outside was calling it out, tempting it to the surface once more.
There was a scream above his head, and Remy instinctively pressed himself against the wall as a winged body fell past him to the floor of the pit. He followed its fall, noticing that its body appeared to be cocooned in a shroud of crackling black energy.
The Filthy writhed and croaked, enwrapped in the strange darkness, finally lying still.
“You sure you want to go up there?” Baarabus called out as he sniffed at the angel’s corpse.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I get there.” Remy quickened his pace.
He’d noticed that it had grown more quiet, only the occasional sound of magickal release to break up the silence. Remy had no idea what he was in for, or what he would find when he got to the top, but that just seemed to be par for the course in this strange world he found himself trapped in.
Getting closer to the lip of the pit, he carefully reached up, feeling around for a proper handhold. He felt a boney hand wrap around his wrist and begin to assist him in climbing up over the edge.
“I’ve got you,” the Fossil said, free from his bonds.
Remy was glad to see that the old-timer was all right, and he climbed up over the side, then turned back to help Leila and Anthony.
“We still have to get Baarabus out of there,” Remy said, turning to face the Fossil, whose exposed flesh had accumulated even more dark scabs in the short time since Remy had seen him last.
“No problem,” he answered, signaling to several other of Samson’s children, who immediately grabbed some rope and tossed it into the pit to help the demon dog up.
It was then that Remy noticed them in the background, standing perfectly still, waiting to be acknowledged. There were ten in all, cloaked in fabric that seemed to be cut from the darkness of the night sky, patterns of star constellations twinkling on their hooded capes and robes.
He knew these beings, these angelic warriors that had refused to pick a side during the Great War between God and Lucifer. They were known as the Cowards by the soldiers of Heaven, but all others called them Nomads.
“What are they doing here?” Remy asked, moving around the Fossil to face the line of cloaked angels.
“They said they’re here for you,” the Fossil answered.
“For me?” Remy asked, walking toward the Nomads.
As he approached, they bowed their heads, and something began to gnaw at the edges of his mind—something that did not belong to him but to the other.
Something that struggled to be remembered.
“Hello, Remiel,” one of the Nomads said, stepping from the line. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Have we met?” Remy asked him.
“I told Azza about your little problem,” the Fossil said, coming to stand beside him. “That you’re not him but some other version from an alternate reality.”
Remy looked back to the hooded figure.
“You’re who you need to be,” the angel Azza said, unfazed by the absurdity of the information.
“I’m guessing that we have you to thank for driving away Michael and his Filthies,” Remy said.
“Only temporarily, I fear,” the Nomad said. “They’ll return shortly. I suggest we start our journey as soon as possible.”
“Our journey?” Remy questioned.
Azza smiled, turning to look at the others of his ilk. They, too, were grinning from within the darkness of their hoods.
“Of course,” he said. “Why else would you have summoned us?”
“I didn’t. . . .”
“You released the power,” Azza said, reaching out to place the tips of his fingers upon Remy’s chest. “These markings upon your flesh had been put there to alert us when this would be so.”
Remy watched as Azza returned to stand with his brethren.
“A power you swore would never be called upon again until it was time,” Azza finished.
“Time?” Remy questioned, for some reason fearing the response.
“Time,” the Nomad leader said with a slow, knowing nod. “Time to bring about the end of something old . . .”
Azza paused and looked about the village of the Filthies before turning his attention back to Remy.
“And the beginning of something new.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Leila tossed the thick, knotted rope over the side of the pit to Baarabus.
“Hold it with your mouth, and we’ll pull you up,” she told him.
Baarabus took hold of the rope in his cavernous mouth and bit down.
“Are you ready?” the daughter of Samson asked him.
He looked up at her and acknowledged her question with a nod.
“Let’s go!” he heard