Phoenix Contract: Part Three (Fallen Angel Watchers) by Melissa Thomas Page A
Authors: Melissa Thomas
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sword’s angry hiss finally dissipated along with the crimson glow.
Matthew sagged with relief. “I’d really rather you didn’t touch it, thanks.” He inhaled and stared at the weapon, enraptured as swirling, seductive patterns of light danced just under the sleek surface. “A tooth?”
“A tooth,” Magnus confirmed, and his tone contained some rich, indefinable irony.
“I’ll go through my history books and see if I can find any reference to a dragon being slain around then.” Matthew extracted a pen and a notebook from his pocket and jotted down a few notes.
“My people regarded dragons with reverence and respect,” Magnus said in such a reserved tone that it gave Matthew pause.
“What are you saying?” the priest asked.
Magnus pursued an enigmatic silence before answering. “Nothing, I’m saying nothing.” He stroked a finger along the sword’s elegant ebony surface. “What’s her name?”
Surprise flickered through Matthew, but he supposed that he should have expected the question. Being one himself, Magnus was no stranger to ancient antiquities, and he knew that old swords were often named.
“ Acerbitas ,” Matthew replied. “Bitterness.” The word left an acerbic tang in his mouth, sour and metallic, as if speaking the name aloud gave it power. “It also means harshness.”
With a flicker, Magnus’ gloved fingers indicated the rune closest to the hilt. “What do these mean?”
“That is the mark of Lilith,” Matthew said. “As in Adam’s wife, Lilith, mother of demons. Lilith, who left paradise when the cost of freedom and equality was too high, rather than serve a man—”
“I know who Lilith is,” Magnus snapped. “I don’t care for her much.”
“You what?!” Jaw hanging open like a great flycatcher, Matthew ogled his old friend. Not once in forty years had Magnus ever mentioned… “You must be kidding!” Matthew exclaimed.
“I must be,” Magnus agreed. The hood hid the Celt’s expression, but Matthew recognized that insufferably smug tone.
Abruptly, Matthew gave a shaky laugh and shook his head, grinning ruefully. “You had me going for a second there,” the priest said. “Now, as I was saying, Lilith is also rumored to be the progenitor of all demons, and the most powerful.”
The priest continued, “The rest I’m not certain of just yet. I need time to translate the runes and decipher the inscription. I also need to research the sword, see if there is anything in my books that might shed some light on its origins.”
Matthew carefully lifted the corners of the black velvet and folded the cloth over the weapon. He breathed easier once it was covered.
“What purpose do you suppose such a weapon could serve?” Matthew mused. “Bearing the mark of Lilith and angelic inscription, carved from a dragon’s tooth?”
The Celt shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “Well, whatever its purpose, don’t leave it lying about,” Magnus suggested. “People have already died trying to possess it.”
“A good point,” Matthew agreed. He looked down at the covered sword unable to shake his fascination with it. The vision of a great rune weapon captured his imagination, weaving dreams that were born of every boy’s romantic fantasies. “This sword is the stuff of legends, a maker of myths, a weapon of heroes, and men of renown.”
Magnus grunted. “Yeah, you should lock it up.”
Matthew shot Magnus a dirty look, disgusted with the Celt’s lack of romance. But then Magnus had a solid point. The priest reverently lifted the sword and carried it toward the safe. “I’ll lock it up.”
Chapter Thirteen
Weeks flew into months, and midterms arrived, leaving Aiden with no time or energy to spare for anything but school. As part of her graduate program, she’d taken three demanding courses in advanced language studies in addition to the one she was teaching and her thesis work. The whole time, awful nightmares plagued her and robbed her of rest when
Matthew sagged with relief. “I’d really rather you didn’t touch it, thanks.” He inhaled and stared at the weapon, enraptured as swirling, seductive patterns of light danced just under the sleek surface. “A tooth?”
“A tooth,” Magnus confirmed, and his tone contained some rich, indefinable irony.
“I’ll go through my history books and see if I can find any reference to a dragon being slain around then.” Matthew extracted a pen and a notebook from his pocket and jotted down a few notes.
“My people regarded dragons with reverence and respect,” Magnus said in such a reserved tone that it gave Matthew pause.
“What are you saying?” the priest asked.
Magnus pursued an enigmatic silence before answering. “Nothing, I’m saying nothing.” He stroked a finger along the sword’s elegant ebony surface. “What’s her name?”
Surprise flickered through Matthew, but he supposed that he should have expected the question. Being one himself, Magnus was no stranger to ancient antiquities, and he knew that old swords were often named.
“ Acerbitas ,” Matthew replied. “Bitterness.” The word left an acerbic tang in his mouth, sour and metallic, as if speaking the name aloud gave it power. “It also means harshness.”
With a flicker, Magnus’ gloved fingers indicated the rune closest to the hilt. “What do these mean?”
“That is the mark of Lilith,” Matthew said. “As in Adam’s wife, Lilith, mother of demons. Lilith, who left paradise when the cost of freedom and equality was too high, rather than serve a man—”
“I know who Lilith is,” Magnus snapped. “I don’t care for her much.”
“You what?!” Jaw hanging open like a great flycatcher, Matthew ogled his old friend. Not once in forty years had Magnus ever mentioned… “You must be kidding!” Matthew exclaimed.
“I must be,” Magnus agreed. The hood hid the Celt’s expression, but Matthew recognized that insufferably smug tone.
Abruptly, Matthew gave a shaky laugh and shook his head, grinning ruefully. “You had me going for a second there,” the priest said. “Now, as I was saying, Lilith is also rumored to be the progenitor of all demons, and the most powerful.”
The priest continued, “The rest I’m not certain of just yet. I need time to translate the runes and decipher the inscription. I also need to research the sword, see if there is anything in my books that might shed some light on its origins.”
Matthew carefully lifted the corners of the black velvet and folded the cloth over the weapon. He breathed easier once it was covered.
“What purpose do you suppose such a weapon could serve?” Matthew mused. “Bearing the mark of Lilith and angelic inscription, carved from a dragon’s tooth?”
The Celt shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “Well, whatever its purpose, don’t leave it lying about,” Magnus suggested. “People have already died trying to possess it.”
“A good point,” Matthew agreed. He looked down at the covered sword unable to shake his fascination with it. The vision of a great rune weapon captured his imagination, weaving dreams that were born of every boy’s romantic fantasies. “This sword is the stuff of legends, a maker of myths, a weapon of heroes, and men of renown.”
Magnus grunted. “Yeah, you should lock it up.”
Matthew shot Magnus a dirty look, disgusted with the Celt’s lack of romance. But then Magnus had a solid point. The priest reverently lifted the sword and carried it toward the safe. “I’ll lock it up.”
Chapter Thirteen
Weeks flew into months, and midterms arrived, leaving Aiden with no time or energy to spare for anything but school. As part of her graduate program, she’d taken three demanding courses in advanced language studies in addition to the one she was teaching and her thesis work. The whole time, awful nightmares plagued her and robbed her of rest when
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