Chapter 24: A Confrontation in the Desert
"So why are we back out here in the middle of nowhere?" Cas asked Nimrod curiously. Nimrod didn't answer immediately, scanning the desert sky as though looking for something.
"We have to talk to someone. Luckily, I thought to phone ahead."
"When did you make a phone call?" Cas inquired. As far as he recalled, Nimrod hadn't had time to make any such phone call without Cas having known.
Much to Cas's annoyance, Nimrod didn't answer. Instead, he merely checked his gold watch and tapped his foot on the sand impatiently.
"Who are we even waiting for?" Cas tried.
Still Nimrod didn't answer, but this time he didn't have to, because a second later, none other than Azazel, Dimme, and Bart came down from the sky and landed directly in front of the two good djinn.
"As always, Nimrod, you figure things out a little bit later than you should, but I shan't hold that against you. It's not entirely your fault that you chose the wrong side of things."
Nimrod regarded Azazel with cold antipathy. "I could say the same about you, Azazel. But I didn't go to all of that trouble to contact you just to exchange insults with you."
"And Castiel," Azazel went on, completely ignoring Nimrod now, "how lovely to see you again. I expect that you still haven't changed your mind about joining me?"
"Only as much as I changed my mind about getting a twitter," Cas replied sweetly, a fake smile pasted onto his face.
"I see," said Azazel. "Well, when you change your mind, you'll be following me, I'm sure. In any case, Nimrod, why did you drag me all the way out here? I'm a very busy djinn, as you well know."
"Yes, busy causing the destruction of us all. I know you're recruiting demons to help you start a war, Azazel. What I want to know is why, and what Alexander has to do with any of it."
Azazel crossed his arms calmly. "That's for me to know and you to find out, Nimrod. But I suppose that we can arrange a bit of an information exchange. If you tell me which of these two idiots," He jerked his head back to indicate Bart and Dimme, "tipped you off to my plan, I'll tell you why I need Alexander."
Cas cocked his head to one side, examining his brother's somewhat egotistical countenance, and thinking hard. What was it again that Alexander the Great had been? A conqueror, surely. He'd forged himself an empire...
Cas's thoughts were interrupted by Bart stepping forward. "I told 'em. I figured I could get some info from the other side by playing the double agent, but nope, you just had to go and ruin it for yourself."
Cas nodded. "It's true that Bart's been helping us," He said, wondering why Bart was bothering to cover Dimme's tracks, and wondering if it had anything to do with Bart and Dimme's past together. "He told me that you've been searching the spirit world for Alexander. And I bet I know why."
All Bart had previously told Cas began to float its way to the surface of his mind. ...All the info I've gathered was all to do with finding his 'missing link' and searching the spirit world...They were talking about something having to do with what Azazel called 'the most powerful weapon on Earth'... Cas looked directly at Bart, realizing that he had been telling the truth, or at least part of it, all this time.
"Oh, do you now?" Azazel asked, a cruel smile playing across his face. "Tell me then, why I'm looking for Alexander the Great."
"All right, then." Said Cas, a tiny tremor sneaking its way into his voice. "I will. You want Alexander to lead your army of demons, or else help you with battle tactics- because everyone knows that Alexander the Great was one of the greatest tacticians that ever walked the Earth."
Azazel lifted his chin in the air. "I must say, I'm rather impressed, Castiel. Now I'd like you to tell me why Jirjis was talking to you yesterday. I know he did, so don't try to play coy with me."
Now it was Cas's turn to smile. He had to admit, the feeling of having information to Lord over Azazel was a rather enjoyable one. "Oh, I don't think I will, Azazel. In any case, he wasn't making much sense. Kept asking me to find a hole in the ground."
"Oh, but of course. There's only one thing of value out here, and it belongs to me." Dimme finally spoke up.
Azazel turned to look at her. "And just what would that be, Mother?" he asked curiously.
Dimme looked as though she was about to answer, but was interrupted by a familiar rumbling from beneath their feet, shaking the earth beneath their feet.
"Oh, great." Cas muttered to himself, as everyone else began (in their own ways) to panic.
Unlike the first time he'd encountered the great ghostly cat, however, Cas was now prepared, somewhat, at least, for the reappearance of Alexander's Lion.
While the lion was busily roaring and singling out Azazel, Cas was busy working on a strategy to destroy the evil guardian once and for all. He focused every fiber of his being on that strange glowing that he'd done before, first to repel his demonic father, and then to drive off the lion the first time.
It took quite awhile, but eventually he began to feel the sensation that he was covered in goosebumps. His body head fluctuated in between normal djinn temperature (101.6 degrees fahrenheit,) and something far, far colder, but brighter. (94.2 degrees fahrenheit, to be precise, which is the body temperature of angels and *major* demons alike.)
Azazel, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to do something very similar, for he, too, was concentrating so hard that beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead.
Nimrod was the only one to notice Bart put his hand around Dimme's waist, mutter his focus word, and vanish over the horizon using his whirlwind.
Finally, Cas managed to make the goosebumps burst, and he sent a jet of white light that glowed with such a fierce intensity that it forced both Nimrod and Azazel to look away.
At exactly the same moment, Azazel managed to succeed in his endeavor, and an inky black shadow seemed to fall around him, and a tendril of shadow inched its way forwards from the circle, looking like the shadow cast by a giant squid.
Both projectiles hit the lion at exactly the same time, with exactly the same velocity, with exactly the same intent. If Cas had thought that the Lion's earlier defeat had been exciting, then this time it must have been downright astounding!
Where before the Lion had faded slowly, this time it exploded into thousands of tiny, many-faceted blue pieces of lion ghost that flew apart at first, but soon imploded and condensed until it was nothing more than a tiny, faint blue light that was quickly snuffed out altogether.
Cas's head pounded, and he felt much weakened, and he fell to his knees on the sand, even as he was watching this fantastic sight. He didn't notice, but Azazel was stumbling a little as well.
Slowly, in the same spot, another soft blue light rose up from beneath the golden sands, twisting and undulating upwards, spreading until it became as wide as a man, then it split into three separate flames, each continuing to grow and shape until the ghostly shapes of three men were discernable.
"Alexander," Azazel breathed.
"That is who I am," said the curly-haired man in the middle, who was a darker blue than either of the others.
"But who are you, sonny djinn?" Asked the ghost to the right in an upper-class English accent, his face partially obscured by a plumed helmet.
"I'll tell you who he is," said the third ghost, a young American man dressed in explorer's khaki and heavy-duty work boots. "He's the limey who killed me!"
Nimrod cleared his throat. "Allow me to introduce Azazel Teer, gentlemen. I am Nimrod Godwin, and this young man here is Cas Malone."
Alexander nodded politely at each of them in turn, though he seemed to be reserving his judgement.
"I'm Henry Peters." the young man introduced himself, squinting hard at Nimrod and Cas. "And come to think of it, haven't I met you two before as well?"
"Yes, I believe so, though you looked quite a bit older than you presently appear."
"Oh, right, you came with that nice girl who gave me a stick... Strange one, that girl. Vanished and then reappeared in seconds."
"Ah, you're referring to Holly Godwin, I assume?" Asked Alexander. Mr. Coomes beamed with pride.
"I brought her up, you know. And right proud I am of her, you can be sure." He nodded, taking his plumed helmet off, and still grinning.
Azazel frowned. "Yes, well..." he began, but was interrupted by Alexander.
"Yes, she helped me get a third of my soul back. A very good role model for other young djinn of her age. Showing kindness to an old ghost like me never goes amiss, nor does handing out money to beggars on the street."
"Holly Godwin was not the only djinn who helped you, Alexander." Azazel pointed out loudly, tersely.
Alexander spared him a glance that was dripping with indifferent ennui. "No, I suppose she wasn't. You and Cas over there did play important roles in setting me free. For that, I thank you."
"That's all? Just a simple 'thank you?' No reward for nearly getting myself killed for your sake?!" Azazel's face was turning redder by the second, and the frustration radiating from the Ifrit was palpable.
"Quit being selfish, Azzy." Cas said, getting to his feet and feeling slightly irritated with his brother for ruining the moment. "You ought to bear in mind what the book of Proverbs says: 'A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.' Proverbs 22:1."
Azazel sneered. "Quoting the Bible now, are we? You've fallen so far, Castiel. I'm disappointed."
Cas replied levelly. "Not as disappointed as I am in you, Azazel. Now go away before you embarrass yourself further."
"In any case, Azazel, I have no interest of aiding a war effort that will likely destroy my essense for good." Alexander chimed in primly.
Azazel cursed extensively, turned around to see that Bart and Dimme had vanished, cursed some more, and rode off in a cloud of dust and a huge huff. "I'll be back, Castiel, just you wait!" he called over his shoulder. "And when I am, you can bet I won't be as forgiving as this time!"
Cas shook his head and turned his attention back to the three ghosts and Nimrod. "Excuse my brother for being a complete and utter toad and idiot." he said calmly. Alexander, Mr. Coomes, and Henry Peters all waved it off as though it was nothing.
"I've seen bad blood between brothers before, Castiel, it's nothing new." said Alexander. "But you had best not let your guard down. A djinn like Azazel isn't likely to have neglected his plan B."
Cas and Nimrod nodded politely to the three ghosts, and they waved farewell.
"Until next time, Nimrod, Cas," said Mr. Coomes.
"Goodbye, good fellows," said Henry Peters.
"May luck be with you. I suspect you'll need it."
With Alexander's parting words, and one last wave, the three ghosts faded into nothingness, leaving Cas and Nimrod alone in the darkening desert.