A face that he recognized as Izzy’s took form in the bark of a tree nearby.
“Get out of here,” the face of wood commanded. “Close the gates behind you.”
Remiel passed through the gate to the world outside.
Francis was standing there, the body of Eliza Swan lying at his feet.
Remiel felt sadness come at the sight, but quickly pushed it aside to deal with the problem at hand.
“We have to close it,” he said to his friend.
Francis nodded, saying nothing as he went to one of the heavy metal gates, and Remiel went to the other.
There were noises coming from within the Garden, something that told him that more than one of the Shaitan had escaped his friends. They needed to do this, and to do this quickly.
“Ready?” Remiel asked him. “On the count of three.”
The sounds were louder now, multiple things fighting their way through the thick jungle growth.
“One,” Remiel said, taking the cold metal in his hands.
He looked across at his friend, feeling a strange combination of joy—to see him still alive—and revulsion.
He was concerned what that meant, and wondered whether it had anything to do with the weapon he’d seen in Francis’s hand.
“Two.”
“Three,” Francis grunted, pushing on his side, as Remiel joined him.
It was as if they did not wish to be closed again, but the gates eventually gave way, hinges crying out unhappily as they came together with a nearly deafening clatter.
The two stepped back, away from the locked gates as the Garden of Eden was again detached from a particular reality, gradually slipping in and out of focus as it resumed its journey behind the veil.
Cast adrift, and out into the sea of realities once more.
Jon thought he was going to die.
The power of Eden rushed through him like a raging river, threatening to pull him from the safety of shore out into deeper and far more dangerous waters.
“Got to hold ’em,” Izzy said, squeezing his hand all the tighter.
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to focus on the job at hand.
The Shaitan were trying to escape, newly acquired magickal energies shooting out at the Garden that tried to imprison them. A few had managed to escape the clutches of the jungle, but only a few. The majority still remained in their possession . . . the Garden of Eden’s possession.
Thanks to Jon and Izzy, Eden was stronger now, filled with a strength that she had not had for countless millennia.
The Garden told them how happy she was.
How happy she was to have her children back.
The gunmetal gray sky of the North Pole above their heads suddenly went to a weird kaleidoscope of colors before going completely to black . . . burning lights like stars igniting one by one, shedding their light down upon them, lending them some of their fiery strength.
“Remy did it,” Izzy said. “These nasty sons a’ bitches ain’t getting away from us.”
And Jon had to agree. He felt suddenly stronger, capable of getting the job done, now that the threat of the Shaitan’s escape out into the world had been averted.
“Let’s put them down,” he told Izzy . . . he told Eden.
And they obliged him, their combined strength pouring into the Garden. A wall of earth like a tidal wave rose up from the ground above the struggling Shaitan. The roots from the reinvigorated Tree of Knowledge had created a kind of jail, keeping them in one place, as the other aspects of the holy jungle worked at keeping the monsters from escaping.
The wave of dirt plunged down, burying the squirming beasts, as the Garden drew them deeper into herself.
“She’s going to create a place for them,” Izzy said, the sides of her head and neck stained crimson with blood. “A prison that she holds close to her heart.”
“And she’ll hold them there for as long as she is able,” Jon joined in, feeling Eden’s message to them. “For as long as she is strong.”
They stood there for a good long time, waiting for the Shaitan to reemerge, for the battle to continue, but they did not come.
For now, Eden was capable of holding them.
The Garden soon calmed: The ground beneath their feet ceased to tremble; the plants, trees, and animals returned to their natural states. It was a Garden of peace again.
A Garden of peace with a malignancy at its core.
Jon was so exhausted that he dropped to the ground, releasing the viselike grip that he had on Izzy’s hand. His head swam, and he dropped it between his legs, taking deep breaths, trying to keep from passing out. There was an annoying whine in his ear, and he reached up, plucking out the damaged hearing aid and dropping the squealing device on the ground. It was then that he realized that he didn’t need it anymore, that his hearing had completely returned to that ear.
The damage had been healed. As he had helped heal the Garden, the Garden had healed him.
“Where do you think we are?” Izzy asked him.
He looked up to see that she was staring at the strange sky above them. It was like no night sky that he had ever seen before. The stars all seemed so incredibly close.
“I haven’t any idea,” he said. “But as long as we’re away from Earth, it’s all good.”
She sat down on the ground beside him.
“Never would have seen this coming,” she said with a chuckle.
“You’re right there,” Jon answered. He picked a stick up from the ground and started to play with it. Healthy green buds began to grow upon the stick, blossoming into tiny pink flowers.
“Look at that,” Izzy said. “Looks like you’ve got a green thumb now.”
He let go of the branch and watched as it took root before his eyes. It had grown nearly twice its size before one of them spoke again.
“So, what now?” he asked, wondering if Izzy had any idea of their purpose. He glanced over to her, waiting for the answer.
Izzy shrugged. “We’re the gardeners now,” she said. “I guess we tend the Garden.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed.
“And when we’re not tending the Garden, who knows,” she added.
He looked and saw that she was staring at him, eyebrows going up and down lasciviously.
“You’re not so bad-looking . . . a little bit skinny for my taste, but . . .”
Jon couldn’t stop himself; after everything they’d gone through, this was just that last straw . . . the perfect release, and he laughed so hard that he fell over onto his side.
“What’s so damn funny?” Izzy asked, obviously annoyed.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, trying to control his laughter. “I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing at the situation.”
“The situation?” she asked.
“It’s not that I’m not flattered, but . . .”
She looked at him for a moment, and then it dawned on her.
“You’re . . . ,” she started, but didn’t finish.
He nodded, trying to keep from laughing again.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she cried.
Jon couldn’t hold it back, laughing hysterically, his laughter so contagious that Izzy soon started as well.
It had been a long time since laughter had been heard in Eden.
And the Garden liked the sound.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Garden of Eden was gone.
The spot where she had rested was still warm, but cooling rapidly.
Remiel stood motionless in the wind and snow with his friend Francis.
Both were uncommonly quiet.
“She was an amazing woman,” Remiel said, staring at the body of the woman Francis held in his arms. A large flake of snow landed upon her cheek, where it rested without melting.
“I didn’t know about the two of you . . . ,” he began, but then wasn’t certain how to continue.
“Neither did I,” Francis answered, looking at his lover’s still, cold face. “Not until a little while ago.”