The Watcher's Stone

Chapter 11: Alexandria

The Watcher's Stone was a beacon calling him, a siren that knew just the song that spoke to him. As Lara drove them away from the Temple of Banebdjedet, Kurtis' eyes kept drifting to her backpack, wanting to look at the artifact again.

Could it really bring back the dead?

Brother Occitan believed so.

What would Kurtis do with such a power?

His father, of course. He had failed him, he had failed the entire Order. Kurtis had stayed hidden and saved his own skin.

What if he had been spared for this very opportunity? A chance to right the wrongs, to give the innocent lives lost a second shot. Kurtis forcefully pulled his eyes away, shutting them tightly. Too bad he didn't believe in destiny.

"Are you alright?" Lara glanced over at him from the driver's seat.

"Just tired," he lied.

"Hmm. Well, we're almost to Alexandria. Now that we've the Stone there's no hurry."

"Until Vasiley tracks us down again. Karel has the Periapt Shards and I don't know any other way to kill him."

"Try not to be so negative," Lara tutted.

Kurtis noticed she seemed… lighter, somehow, since they acquired the Stone. Where he had felt the burden on him increase tenfold, weighing on his shoulders and heart alike, the tenseness in Lara was no more. She must be high with a sense of achievement after all the globetrotting and an end to the chase.

She continued. "I think we should begin from square one. Back to the start. The original stories about the creation of the Nephilim: perhaps they can give us some clues as to how to destroy them. How much of the Book of Enoch is accurate, do you think?"

Couldn't hurt. "I haven't read it since I was a kid, but I recall it being treated as mostly true by the Elders."

"They seem to be right so far about most things concerning the Nephilim, so I'll trust their judgment. Lucky for us we're headed to a city with a rather large library."

"Alright. We'll hit it up first thing in the morning."

They continued the drive in silence for some time, when Lara suddenly spoke.

"Kurtis? What if we can't destroy the Watcher's Stone?"

Kurtis blinked. What did she mean by that? Was Lara feeling its influence as well? He thought he was only going to have to struggle with himself; the possibility he'd have to fight Lara for it never crossed his mind.

Could he fight her for it? Would he be able to kill her?

No, not anymore. And what would be the point– she wouldn't actually use it. Lara wasn't a threat, not in that way.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"Bogomil and Limoux already tried destroying it. If conventional means won't work, we may have to consider something drastic, like throwing it into a volcano."

Oh. Kurtis felt foolish. That's what she meant.

"Even if that doesn't destroy it," she went on, "it will make it unobtainable."

"For a while, at least," he added. He wouldn't discount the possibility of future technology allowing for its retrieval.

"Perhaps I ought to keep it, in that case."

"No," Kurtis snapped without meaning to.

She *does* want to keep it! But it's not hers to keep, it's mine.

He sheepishly lowered his volume. "It would make you a target."

Lara looked at him askance from the driver's seat. "Too late to be concerned about that. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine and dandy. Look, I'm beat. Let's talk about this later." Then he turned his head to look out the window though it was too dark to see anything of interest, and resolutely tried to pretend the Stone was not within reach.

"Kurtis?

Are you awake?"

His eyes snapped open.

Blinking to clear the blurriness, Kurtis gazed around. He was standing in a large, open room. Distorted rectangular shapes stood in the distance. Shapes of people – men, many men – surrounded him. He brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed at them forcefully, and finally his vision became focused.

The voice which called to Kurtis was familiar yet strange at the same time, like hearing a loved one speak in a recording. And likewise the young man who stood nearer than the others, looking at him with hope and paternal fondness, reminded him of someone. Someone he should know, yet the picture was wrong. He rubbed his eyes again, but who he saw didn't change.

"Dad?" he asked.

The young blond man with the same rich, blue eyes as his took another step forward. Behind him the rectangular shapes were crates, boxes, pallets stacked with cement blocks, minecarts filled with rubble and sand. This was… where was it?

The young man reached a hand out to clasp it on Kurtis' shoulder but Kurtis hopped back just out of reach, disbelieving his eyes. Behind the young version of his father stood countless other young men and women, all roughly the same age. All younger than Kurtis, yet their eyes seemed wise beyond their years. They all stared at him as if expecting an answer.

"Do you remember that you did this?" his father asked.

"I…" Kurtis looked around. Did he? He didn't remember using the Stone. The last thing he remembered was driving to Alexandria with Lara. How did he get here? It had to be a dream, but he felt lucid, awake. "I don't know."

"You really did it," Konstantin said with amazed conviction. "We have been waiting for years – some of us centuries – to be called back here."

"I brought you back?" Kurtis asked. Panic bloomed inside him and seized his limbs. He felt for his Chirugai at his belt but it was gone.

They were Nephilim! They had to be. I have to destroy my father… He wanted to collapse to the floor. Why did he do this? He can't kill him, he's not strong enough.

As if sensing the inner turmoil, his father raised a hand in a placating gesture. "Fear not, son. You did well. You only removed your Chirugai while you slept for comfort. We are only mortals."

Kurtis took a deep breath. Then another. They weren't Nephilim. They were all fully grown adults, albeit in the prime of their youth – if they were Nephilim, there would be no reason for them to continue delaying their conquest of the earth.

That still left so many unanswered questions, however.

"I did good? It's…fine?" Kurtis asked.

"Yes, of course! Life is never a bad thing. I always meant to tell you about the Stone."

It was his father's voice, but the words did not sound like him. It wasn't just his voice lacking the usual gruffness which developed over the years, but the words themselves were off.

"But Bogomil…" Kurtis countered.

"Was mistaken. Just as I had been to be disappointed in you. You've surpassed all of our expectations, my son."

A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped him. A sense of lethargy swept over him. He had done it. Everything was complete, and he could rest now. With the realization came a sudden and total exhaustion. He wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep. He could do it and not feel any guilt gnawing at him for once. There was no ancient enemy to battle, no bad guys to shoot, no demons oppressing him.

No ghosts of his past failures sitting on his shoulders.

He just couldn't seem to remember anything that happened before. Maybe he had hit his head. Perhaps he ought not to go back to sleep in that case, just to be safe.

"Where's Lara?" he asked. He didn't see her among the crowd. Was she safe?

All he could see was the endless faces of the Lux Veritatis. Father and son, mother and daughter all alive again and at the same time, the same ages, going back centuries. Everyone was speaking to one another animatedly, disbelieving that they were alive and together once more. What had been unjustly stripped from them – time, opportunity, relationship – was theirs for the taking. This would have never been possible without him.

Funny, he couldn't remember how he defeated Karel and Azazel. But he knew that he had, just as assuredly as he knew his own name. He could almost feel the memory of it in his hands, the weight and shape of the weapon he used. It was a–

"Your bride-to-be is resting in the other room," his youthful father explained. "Her stomach has been unsettled from the pregnancy. It has been rough on her."

"The preg–" Kurtis paused, suddenly remembering their union, proposing to her, her pregnancy test. It all rushed back to him at once. They didn't feel like his memories. He shook his head to clear his cloudy mind, but it only worked a little.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked Konstantin. "I don't remember anything before I woke up. This is all so…"

"You woke from a coma recently. You were badly injured during the battle against the Nephilim, and once you knew we were all safe, you put yourself into a regenerative sleep. You've been asleep for three months now. I'm not surprised it's taking some time for the memories to return." Konstantin looked at his chest and nodded towards it. "See for yourself."

Kurtis glanced down. He lifted his shirt and above the faded scar where Boaz had impaled him was a similar yet smaller scar.

Still, he felt amazing. He had made his father proud. He had defeated the last of the Nephilim! He wasn't a failure. And he had Lara, too.

Where was she? Smiling, Kurtis moved through the unfamiliar complex, walking down an endless corridor and opening door after door searching for her.

He called out, "Lara! Lara?

The walls were bare and white, the cement flooring echoing with every footstep. Where was he? He couldn't recall, but the facility seemed familiar. He had been here before.

He wished his memories would come back quicker. None of this made sense. For everything to be like this, it seemed a fantasy. His luck was never this good.

"In here!" Lara's voice sounded from far down the corridor.

He went down to where her voice came from and opened the door. She was laying on a large four-poster bed wearing a white gown, her hands gently stroking over her belly. At the base of her cupped hands was the smallest mound. His child.

Her hair was loose, her smile soft. He wondered whether they were having a boy or girl. He wanted a boy – one of each, really, maybe even more. He always liked kids.

Lara beckoned him over and he obliged, sitting at the edge of the bed. She took his hand and kissed the back of it. It was too soon to feel the baby move, but he placed his palm on her stomach anyway, feeling the little firm bump there. Lara smiled. That really was his child inside her. His eyes watered with a flurry of emotion.

"Isn't it amazing?" she asked in a whisper. "It's everything I've ever wanted."

"Me too."

Strange – that didn't sound like something Lara would say. Did she ever mention wanting kids? But even as he thought that, his heart swelled with affection for her. He felt content. Everything was perfect.

Too perfect. His eyelids closed on their own. The exhaustion began to overtake him.

Lara's hand pushed against his back, urging him to lay down. "Go to sleep, love. You're not ready to be awake yet."

This was wrong.

He opened his eyes one more time, fighting the sleep that was pulling him under. His vision was blurry once more, so he wasn't sure what the dark, strange silhouettes were that began to crowd around Lara, or if they were even real. His heart hammered in his chest and horror overtook him.

This was all wrong.

The interior of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina was as grand as its exterior, the slanted glass paneled ceiling held up by towering columns, row after row of bookshelves and computer desks on each level visible from the bottom. The building still had that brand new smell to it.

"Pretty impressive architecture," Kurtis commented as they climbed the steps up the levels.

"Too modern for my tastes. I prefer the original library of Alexandria."

"The 'original'... You mean, the Great Library? One of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World – that library?"

She looked back at him, saying nothing. Her nonchalant expression was enough.

"I thought that burned down."

"I'm sure some of it did."

Kurtis stared at her, watching as she looked around casually as though she hadn't just dropped a jaw-dropper of a tidbit. Almost as surprising was his secondary reaction: he wanted so badly to kiss her. This incredible woman – how could he make her his? When he thought of her lips, how soft they would feel against his, her body wrapped around his like silk, her breasts pressed to his chest…

He frowned. That wasn't his thought.

Or was it?

She looked back at him. "What?"

He shook his head lightly. "You're one hell of a woman, Lara."

She blinked and cast her eyes away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as though he had embarrassed her. "We've still work to do," she said indifferently.

They checked out as many versions of the Book of Enoch and references to the incomplete Book of Giants as the library had, but as using a private study room would require a reservation and prohibit them certain freedoms, they decided to take the books and files back to the hotel room they had booked the previous night.

Lara sprawled out on the bed belly-down with one of the Ethiopian versions of the Book of Enoch open in front of her, kicking her socked feet and crossing her ankles idly as she read. Kurtis tried not to get distracted by her form lounging on the bed, her long shapely legs, wide child-bearing hips, the arch of her back, her focused expression…

Stop that. He concentrated on the reading before him. After a couple minutes his eyes were drawn back to Lara again as she stifled a yawn. He was sitting on the other bed but wanted to be closer to her.

He flipped through the book he was looking at, realizing they had checked out the second Book of Enoch on accident when they were gathering all the translations and references. 2 Enoch was not really important to what they were doing, but the mistake gave him an idea and presented an opportunity.

Kurtis shut the book abruptly. "I was wondering why none of this seemed familiar at all," he said as he stood from his bed and stepped over to Lara's. He showed her the spine as he sat on the bed beside her.

"We grabbed the wrong book," he explained and tossed it on the bed above where her open book lay. Lara raised her brows and looked at him in expectation.

Well, here goes.

He bent forward slightly to look at her page and as he did so, brought his arm down on the other side of Lara's back, centimeters away from basically cuddling, hovering around her but not touching.

"Where are you?" he asked and stared straight at the page, not acknowledging the move he just did.

He felt Lara's inquiring gaze on him a moment longer, then she turned her head back and pointed at a line on the page under Chapter 5.

Kurtis closed his eyes briefly, inhaling through his nose. She smelled so good.

He considered excusing himself from the room so he could have a few minutes of alone time with the demon that was still trailing him. It had become trickier, more subtle than last time, but it was no doubt still following him around, trying to make him think these ideas he was having came from his own mind.

Some of these thoughts – sure, they were his. Kurtis wanted Lara, he didn't deny that. But he also wasn't the kind of guy to entertain random thoughts of ravishing her when he was concerned about stopping the Nephilim. Priorities, Trent. The fact he couldn't easily banish them and they continued to spring to the front over and over – that was the work of the demon.

Lara looked up at him again. He saw her gaze flicker to his lips briefly. "We checked out other copies," she said quietly in a low voice, but she did not throw him off, nor direct him to those other copies. She appeared content to let him remain close.

In fact, she moved on the bed slightly as though adjusting her position, and in doing so her side became pressed into his arm as though welcoming the contact.

He swallowed thickly. Priorities! His brain screamed at him.

She wants this too!

It was impossible to maintain his concentration with her in the room. His mind kept drifting to other things, like remembering the sexy little grunts and gasps she made as she swung from ropes, the shape of her body beneath his, her thighs squeezed around the pole, her face so close to his crotch as she stitched his leg… Even the smell of her sweat was light and feminine, alluring.

He picked his hand up off the bed to brush her braid away from her neck automatically, the image of her inviting throat bared to him calling out to him to be sucked on. He stopped himself just before his fingers touched her hair.

OK, that's enough, he thought brusquely, and promptly stood from the bed. Lara gazed up at him surprised, and his eyes roamed down the length of her back. He pictured her hair unwoven and fanned out along bare skin, her lips unpainted but chewed pink with lust–

"I'm ravenous," he said, not quite lying. "You in the mood for anything in particular?"

Please say me, please say–

"No, not really." Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he saw her lips turn down slightly. "I'll take some of whatever it is you're getting."

Kurtis rushed out of the hotel room, instantly feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders once a door separated him from Lara. This was ridiculous. He stormed to the stairwell and after checking he was alone in there, took a deep breath, his brows low over his eyes.

"Show yourself, you slimy piece of shit."

The demon apparated in front of him, the same one that followed him in Madagascar, perched on the stair railing. Was it connected to the Stone? Now that he was in close proximity to the artifact, did it increase the demon's influence? Was it responsible for the strange, almost prophetic-like dream he had?

As though reading his thoughts, the demon gave a short and smug snicker. "As I said before, you have been marked by the Stone, just like that old fool Occitan. You will be marked by it forever. Wherever you go, I will go. You can banish me as many times as you like, but I will always return so long as you desire what the Watcher's Stone offers."

Kurtis frowned. "I don't desire it."

"You lie to yourself as easily as you lie to that woman."

"Leave Lara out of this."

"You first," it growled. "You think I am to blame for your lurid thoughts, but I simply amplify what is already there. If you had even an iota less control, you would be having your way with her in that bed right now while she screams your name."

The image flashed in his mind and he shuddered. Lara did want him, didn't she? But he didn't want her if there was even a chance, no matter how small, that her desire was being impacted by the demon's presence.

The demon drawled on, its multiple-voice taking on a reminiscing tone. "They are lovely, aren't they? The daughters of men…"

Lara turned the page in the book and came upon the part she'd been looking for, and read aloud: "'And it came to pass when the children of men had multiplied that in those days were born unto them beautiful and comely daughters. And the angels, the children of heaven, saw and lusted after them, and said to one another: 'Come, let us choose us wives from among the children of men and beget us children.'"

Kurtis argued on. "Why would I want to make Nephilim? I want to destroy that cursed stone, not use it. Do you even hear yourself? Stupid – never met a demon with half a brain."

"You still tell yourself lies because you fear the truth. The Stone can bring back everyone you've lost."

"Bring them back or bring back Nephilim that look like them? Come on, surely you can do better than these cheap tricks."

The demon slinked around the stairwell, crawling up the wall and hanging upside down so that its smile resembled a frown. "Is there a difference? Face it – you're part Nephilim!"

Kurtis shook his head. "You wanna know how I know you're full of bullshit? Because reviving the Lux Veritatis is the exact opposite of what a demon would want. You really ought to work on your deception game, it's seriously lacking."

The demon cackled loudly, its raspy laugh echoing off the bare walls and bouncing down the stairs. "He thinks he knows so much. He thinks he is strong enough to resist his nature; stronger than his elder Occitan who succumbed easily. Arrogance to rival the haughty Bogomil, conceit to match the vain Limoux. You, Kurtis Heissturm of the Guilhelm bloodline, though a descendant of a betrayer of our kind, are the most like Semjaza."

"'...And Semjaza, who was their leader, said unto them: 'I fear ye will not indeed agree to do this deed, and I alone shall have to pay the penalty of a great sin.'...

'And all the others together with them took unto themselves wives, and each chose for himself one, and they began to go in unto them and to defile themselves with them… And they became pregnant, and they bare great giants : who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind.'"

"Oh, fuck off," Kurtis spat, almost laughing at the suggestion. "Comparing me to a Watcher – isn't that a compliment to you?"

"But not to you, you who deny your ancestry."

Demons lie, Kurtis thought, All they can do is lie to try to get their way.

"What I say is true," it retorted.

Kurtis swore and gave his head a violent jerk. He was slipping, letting the creature into his mind without meaning to. With a surge of panic he realized this was probably how it happened with Occitan. An incremental loss of control.

He clenched his teeth together and snarled, "You don't know the meaning of that word. You only know deception and destruction."

"'And Azazel taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of the earth and the art of working them…'

'...And then Michael, Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel looked down from heaven and saw much blood being shed upon the earth, and all lawlessness being wrought upon the earth…. And they said to the Lord of the ages: 'Thou seest what Azazel hath done, who hath taught all unrighteousness on earth and revealed the eternal secrets which were preserved in heaven, which men were striving to learn: And Semjaza, to whom Thou hast given authority to bear rule over his associates. And they have gone to the daughters of men upon the earth, and have slept with the women, and have defiled themselves, and revealed to them all kinds of sins. And the women have borne giants, and the whole earth has thereby been filled with blood and unrighteousness.'

The demon drew nearer to Kurtis, enmity wafting from it like heat waves. Kurtis tried to grasp that awareness with his mind and hold onto it through the confusing feelings and thoughts battering at him: this demon was not his ally.

"Send me away if it will make you feel better, Brother."

"Don't call me brother."

"But remember that you are never alone. When everyone else has left, I will be here."

It was oddly comforting… which was concerning in itself.

"'And again the Lord said to Raphael: 'Bind Azazel hand and foot, and cast him into the darkness: and make an opening in the desert…and cast him therein. And place upon him rough and jagged rocks, and cover him with darkness, and let him abide there for ever, and cover his face that he may not see light. And on the day of the great judgement he shall be cast into the fire. And heal the earth which the angels have corrupted…and that all the children of men may not perish through all the secret things that the Watchers have disclosed and have taught their sons. And the whole earth has been corrupted through the works that were taught by Azazel: to him ascribe all sin.'

'And to Gabriel said the Lord: 'Proceed against the bastards and the reprobates, and against the children of fornication: and destroy the children of the Watchers from amongst men: send them one against the other that they may destroy each other in battle: for length of days shall they not have.'

'And the Lord said unto Michael: 'Go, bind Semjaza and his associates who have united themselves with women so as to have defiled themselves with them in all their uncleanness. And when their sons have slain one another, and they have seen the destruction of their beloved ones, bind them fast for seventy generations in the valleys of the earth, till the day of their judgement and of their consummation… In those days they shall be led off to the abyss of fire: and to the torment and the prison in which they shall be confined for ever. And whosoever shall be condemned and destroyed will from thenceforth be bound together with them to the end of all generations.'

Kurtis placed a hand to his forehead as he felt a headache start. "Leave." His voice held no authority – he was simply tired.

The demon disappeared, then just before Kurtis sighed in relief, it reappeared beside him, hunched over his back so that its pathetic broken wings looked as though they could belong to Kurtis. Its sulphuric breath tickled his ear.

"Would you like me to say hello to your father?"

He swallowed thickly. He would not react. "You can't. My father's not in hell."

Lara dragged her fingertip beneath the words as she continued to read: "'And now, the giants, who are produced from the spirits and flesh, shall be called evil spirits upon the earth, and on the earth shall be their dwelling. Evil spirits have proceeded from their bodies; because they are born from men and from the holy Watchers is their beginning and primal origin… And the spirits of the giants afflict, oppress, destroy, attack, do battle, and work destruction on the earth, and cause trouble: they take no food, but nevertheless hunger and thirst, and cause offences. And these spirits shall rise up against the children of men and against the women, because they have proceeded from them.'

Kurtis brought back grilled fish, prawns, falafel, and liver sandwiches. As he struggled to open the door to the room with his hands full, he realized he may have gone overboard with the street food. In truth, he hadn't been thinking too hard about what he was doing, his mind too preoccupied with rehashing his unpleasant conversation with the demon.

He didn't want to believe anything that demon said. Evil spirits were evil. The greatest of them all was called the Father of Lies. This had been drilled into every Lux Veritatis' head since childhood as confronting and exorcizing demons was par for the course in their order. 'Never listen to the promises of a demon', 'If it sounds too good to be true, it is'.

But it was starting to sound more probable than the alternative. Occitan had been able to bring back someone that looked like this father – Bogomil had confirmed this. If it had been a Nephilim in disguise, simply beheading it with the Irenscyld wouldn't have killed it. Then there was the matter of their special weapons like the Chirugai and the Periapt Shards, their special powers – it remained a mystery even to themselves from where they all truly originated.

Kurtis knew the Lux Veritatis took the Periapt Shards from the Nephilim themselves. And Occitan knew of at least one other weapon strong enough to destroy the Stone. But what could it possibly be? Not something new, but something he would have had knowledge of already…

"Well I see someone's eyes are bigger than their stomach," Lara said as she snapped the book shut. She joined Kurtis at the small table in the corner of the room to begin eating.

"Find anything good?" He took a bite of one of the liver sandwiches.

"Just finished the Book of Enoch." She started in on the prawns and fish.

"It's been a while since I read it."

Lara recapped it for him as he ate. His headache began to recede; he must have just been hungry.

"Hmm. The demon said the Lux Veritatis are the descendants of the Nephilim who repented when given the chance, but the Book of Enoch doesn't mention any of them or any of the Watchers seeking forgiveness."

"Not in Enoch, no. But the Book of Giants mentions something to that effect."

"Book of Giants is incomplete. The Lux Veritatis never included it in our canon."

"It's incomplete, that's true. Something else that's interesting is that Azazel's father is mentioned by name. He was one of the naughtiest Watchers, and to top it off, he specialized in weapons and metal casting." Lara reread the section to Kurtis:

"'Azazel taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of the earth and the art of working them.'"

"Azazel the Giant would have known all their secrets, too. Either of them may have made the Stone. He might have even made the Shards. Hell, he–" Kurtis paused, realization dawning on him like a flicked switch.

Azazel taught men to make swords.

Swords…

"I think I know the weapon that can destroy the Stone," he said, then paused, gathering his thoughts.

"The suspense is killing me," Lara deadpanned.

"Saint George and the dragon." he said by way of explanation.

"Yes?"

"He's-he's been showing up everywhere, right? Lalibela, Ani… You're familiar with the legend?"

"Of course. He's the patron saint of England."

"Right, and about a dozen other places. In Lux Veritatis tradition, Saint George was a Lux Veritatis before 'Lux Veritatis' was a thing. He's an ancestor to one of the original bloodlines, had psychic powers, and used a weapon crafted out of special material, similar to but not exactly like my Chirugai."

Lara stood from the bed and began pacing around the small room. "Really? I suppose everyone wants to claim old Georgie."

"In the stories, the dragon is actually a Nephilim in disguise. The sword he used, uh…"

"Ascalon, was it?" she suggested.

Kurtis snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Ascalon. He beheaded the dragon with it. It was supposedly more powerful than even the Periapt Shards."

"Sounds promising. Why didn't you say anything about it before?"

Kurtis rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I only just thought of it, because you mentioned the Watchers revealing forbidden knowledge of powerful weapons to humans. And because… I don't know where it is. Occitan said in the diary that the weapon was 'lost to time'... so it wasn't in the possession of any one of us, like the Periapt Shards have been."

"Why wasn't it passed down for safe keeping, like your other weapons?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't tell ya. Y'know I was just an Initiate myself, there's tons of Lux Veritatis history buried all over I don't know and probably never will…"

Unless I change that. He pictured the Stone where it was still nestled inside Lara's backpack.

Lara crossed her arms. "Is that it? We're at a dead end again? Or do you have some suggestions for where to start another wild goose chase?"

"First of all, we found the Watcher's Stone so that was not a 'wild goose chase'. And secondly, I do have an idea. Tradition says the sword was buried with Saint George's body. His partial remains are supposedly in Lod, in Israel, but obviously there's no sword there – it would've been too easily discoverable for Eckhardt and the Cabal. The rest of his body was moved elsewhere though, so the sword may be wherever that is."

"His hometown, perhaps? That's where most people would have been buried back then."

"Yeah – but which one? Each version of the legend gives a different place of origin. In one version he's Cappadocian, in another he's from Cyrene, another Beirut." Kurtis threw his hands up. "Associations with Saint George are near numberless."

Lara looked at Kurtis intently. "Well, what do you think?"

He hesitated. "Going off the background landscape on the murals in Lalibela, it's depicting Cyrene, in Libya. And with how popular Saint George is, the fact the rest of his remains have never been found, I'm guessing it's because they're buried in an old Lux Veritatis tomb."

"Wait, I thought you said there were only the three bases around here? The ones in Ethiopia, Madagascar, and Egypt. Now suddenly there's a base in Libya?"

"No, not a base. They're just catacombs near the coast, nothing but bones. The founding members were buried there and some of their ancestors' bodies were moved there later, but no one else has used the site since the 13th century when the main entrance was flooded."

Lara's eyes brightened. "Watery grave! 'Should one be capable of exhuming it from its watery grave'. That must be it, Kurtis. But do you know how to find it?"

"When I get close I will, like back in Madagascar."

Lara nodded. "Then you should go after it. I'll go after the Djed pillar in Hatmehyt's temple. If the awakened Sleeper really is Azazel as we believe, I'll bet Banebdjedet will want to know what he's up to." Immediately she went to her backpack and began looking through it.

"You wanna split up again?" he asked, trying not to let the worry show in his expression. The thought of the Stone being away from him made his chest ache. Not only that, but breaking into underwater catacombs, though completely capable he was, was not his speciality. "Are you sure that's a good idea? After what happened in the Strahov…"

Satisfied that whatever she was looking for was still there, Lara slung her pack over her shoulders. "Then don't get caught this time," she said matter-of-factly.

Ouch. He walked right into that one. Though it wounded his ego, it also pressed the importance of not letting Lara down again. She wasn't going to put up with him forever if he wasn't pulling his own weight. That wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be anyway; he wanted to be strong and reliable, he wanted Lara to feel safe, to allow herself to be vulnerable with him.

The image of her small pregnant bump growing his child flashed before his eyes. Though he knew it was only a dream, it gave him hope. He wanted to be her man. And he wasn't going to get there if she thought of him as a burden.

"Fine," he agreed, and stood from his chair. "You should give me the Stone so that when I get the sword I can destroy it straight away."

She cocked her hands on her hips. "And you can be tempted into reviving the Lux Veritatis? Not a chance."

"What? Of course not." God, he didn't sound convincing even to himself.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how odd you've been acting. Ever since we saw Occitan's ghost you've been…different."

Kurtis opened his mouth to argue but no words came. She was right. There was nothing he could say to convince her otherwise, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to anyway.

"Fine," he repeated, stepping closer to Lara. "You hold onto the Stone for now, but we should each get burner phones in case there's a change of plan. When I get the sword and you the pillar, we'll meet back here in Alexandria. I'll catch the next flight."

He made to move around Lara to reach the door when her palm pressed gently against his chest. In a familiar gesture that called to mind the beginning of their timid alliance in the Strahov, she lightly stroked her fingertips beneath his chin with her other hand, encouraging him to turn his face towards hers.

He felt her breath fan across his face. He gazed into her dark eyes. "Hurry back, Kurtis. We wouldn't want to keep Karel waiting."

Then just as quickly she turned and strolled out of the room before him, leaving him missing the feel of her fingers on his skin.

Author's Note: The sections of the 'Book of Enoch' which Lara reads from are taken near verbatim from an online English translation of 1 Enoch Chapters 6-15.