Enoch's Device (11 page)

“First,” he said, starting at the top, “we have Taurus, the raging bull. It represents a great conflict. Next is Gemini, the twins. In the old Coptic tongue, the word for Gemini is
Pi-Mahi,
meaning ‘the united.’ After Gemini is Cancer, whose name in the ancient languages is significant. In Arabic, its name is
Al Sartan,
meaning ‘to hold or bind.’ It has the same meaning in Hebrew. And in Greek, it is
Karkinos—
‘to encircle.’

“Finally, there is Leo, the lion. This is the symbol of the champion of men. Beneath it, however, is another constellation: the Hydra, a symbol of the enemy. Both the lion and the Hydra head toward Cancer.”

Beside this third of the circle, Remi had drawn a dragon, terrible and twisting, with snakelike scales. “This completes the act’s meaning: that the champion and the enemy will be bound in a final, decisive conflict. Only one shall prevail. And there the prophecy shall be fulfilled.”

Ciarán still found it an abstract mystery. “How can you tell when any of this will happen?” he asked.

“It already has,” Remi said, his eyes growing wide. “And its time is coming again.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This is more theory,” Dónall said. “The zodiac is a wheel, and a wheel turns over and over. Maugis spoke of a cycle of darkness that turns every thousand years. So, the theory goes, the cycle of the prophecy repeats itself every thousand years or so.”

“Three times man has survived,” Remi said, “but the enemy has grown stronger—and wiser. And now the end of the millennium is nearly upon us.”

Dónall shook his head. “We don’t know, in fact, if it has ever happened before, but Thomas believed the first time may have been around the time of Arcanus, about three thousand years ago.”

“And you want your proof?” Remi said. “Where is Atlantis? Sunk into the sea in the aftermath of the great conflict. That is what we are dealing with! Almost every civilization has a story of a battle between light and darkness, whether fought by gods or by mortal men. And as the cycle of the prophecy has been repeated, these myths have been reinforced until they became embedded in the legends of mankind. To you Irish, the story is reflected in the battle of Mag Tuired, where the Tuatha Dé Danann defeated the Formorian giants and their king, Balor of the Evil Eye. The Babylonians have their battle between the hero-god Marduk and the dragon Tiamat. The priests of Persia tell of a great war between Ahura Mazda, the god of good, and Ahriman, the god of evil, when darkness will cover the sky and the world will be devoured by fire. The Northmen believe in a final battle that will plunge the world into darkness, when the world serpent rises from the sea and armies of giants and demons do battle with the gods, while the earth burns. The Northmen call that battle
Ragnarok
.

“But we have long known it by a different name, the name by which the battle will be called when the cycle of the prophecy repeats again.” Remi’s expression had grown frighteningly serious.

“To us it is known as Armageddon.”

“N
ow do you understand the
significance of the book I sent to Derry?” Remi said. “Of the images I chose?”

A lump of dread formed in the pit of Ciarán’s stomach as Remi’s illuminations flashed vividly through his mind: the rain of fire and blood, the figures writhing in pain, the demons with horned heads rising from a smoking pit. “The apocalypse,” he murmured.

“
Yes.
” Remi’s eyes narrowed, and his voice fell. “The book of Revelation tells of portents in the heavens, battles on earth, and a final conflict called Armageddon. And it tells of the enemy of prophecy.”

“The Dragon,” Ciarán almost whispered, unwilling to utter its true name. He recalled Remi’s illumination of the serpentine beast battling the hosts of heaven.

The mad look returned to Remi’s eyes. “Now do you see who we are dealing with? The Dragon is present in every myth. He is the snake of Eden, Balor of the Evil Eye, Tiamat of Babylon, Ophion to the Greeks, the world serpent of the Norse. The book of Revelation says that after a thousand years, the Dragon must be released from its prison, where it has been bound since its war against God. Maugis says the prophecy is a cycle of a thousand years. Thus, with each millennium, the war that broke out in heaven continues on earth!”

“You’re talking about the end of the world,” Ciarán said.

“No!” Remi exclaimed. “Revelation tells of the world’s end: the trumpets, the fire, the earthquakes, the stars falling from the sky. Those are the things that will happen if the final battle is lost. To prevent these horrors—
that
is what we are fighting for.”

Ciarán glanced between Remi and Dónall. “How does God let this happen?”

“Why does God let
any
evil exist in this world?” Remi asked. “Because man did this to himself! In the garden, when Eve became Pandora. It was man who broke God’s laws and listened to the serpent and ate of the forbidden fruit. Man who brought about the end of paradise and let evil into the world. And it was man who, after the war in heaven, sided for a time with the fallen angels, cavorting with them, bearing their offspring, corrupting the world to the point that God nearly drowned it all in the great flood. But still evil lingered, all as a consequence of man’s doings. The prophecy is the ultimate trial, where man is forced to confront the evil he let into this world—a test to see if mankind deserves to live another thousand years.”

Ciarán found himself at a loss for words.

“Thomas believed it was a consequence of free will,” Dónall said. “Just as man can choose to do good or evil, so he can choose to defend himself in these times and preserve the world that God gave him, or stand complacently by and witness the end of all things. Yet the fact that men can read this meaning into the zodiac does not make it all true.”

“Dónall, ever the skeptic!” Remi declared. “The signs of the apocalypse are everywhere. The Four Horsemen ride unchecked over our land. The king and his magnates are at war, and beyond our borders, the Vikings and the Saracens threaten all godly life. There is famine so bleak that men are rumored to eat other men just to survive. Disease and plague follow the famine, killing children, the old, and the weak. And everywhere walks death, stalking, killing, and reaping souls. Only those who choose blindness can fail to see these things.”

“But war, famine, and disease have existed throughout history,” Dónall argued.

“Never like this!” Remi insisted. “Why you remain in denial has always vexed me, especially since Thomas gave his life for this. And there is one fact you have always ignored, even though it compels a belief in these things: Maugis taught us the secrets of the Fae, which are real, and then he tells of prophecy and how to find the weapon.”

“You mean Sagittarius,” Ciarán said.

“Precisely!” Remi looked at Dónall. “Go on, show him.”

Dónall sighed and unslung the leather satchel from his shoulder. “It’s another cryptic clue,” he said. “Another damnable riddle.”

“In the book,” Ciarán murmured.

“The book is full of riddles,” Dónall replied, pulling the Book of Maugis d’Aygremont from the satchel. “I think even you have seen it.” He set the thick book on the table, opened its cover, and flipped through the centuries-old vellum until he came to the image of a symbol-filled circle with two seven-pointed stars.

“The witch’s circle,” Ciarán said.

“It is no such thing,” Remi insisted.

“No,” Dónall said. “We have always believed it’s some type of pictorial representation of the prophecy—a hieroglyph of sorts.”

“Surely it is,” Remi explained. “These symbols”—he pointed to twelve glyphs along the outer circle—“like those on the wall, are the symbols of the zodiac, arranged appropriately in a wheel. In the gaps between the points of the first seven-pointed star are more symbols, representing the planets, which are closer to the earth: Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the Moon, Venus, Mercury, and the Sun. The large seven-pointed star symbolizes the seven days of creation, when the stars were set in the sky and the prophecy was written. The star is also a glyph to ward off evil. The smaller seven-pointed star in the center is called the fairy star, a symbol of the Fae, suggesting they have a role to play in the cycle of prophecy. Within it is the ankh, a symbol of life but also an Atlantean symbol of Arcanus. That is why Maugis chose it to adorn the cover of his book. Surrounding the fairy star and the ankh are words, written in the heptagrams within the larger star. And do not let your mind fool you given all the myriad symbols: the letters are
Greek.
”

Ciarán’s eyes grew wide. It was true: the letters within the heptagrams were Greek—amid the unnerving symbols, he had failed to notice until now.

“When you read them,” Remi said, “they tell a story.”

Though Greek was not his strongest tongue, Ciarán slowly read the words aloud:

Enoch saw a great and glorious device at the ends of the whole Earth. There Arcanus found the Stone of Light.

“Do you see what I meant about another riddle?” Dónall said.

“But it is a riddle that gives us the clues to solve it,” Remi insisted. “‘Enoch’ is a clear reference to the author of the Book of Enoch. We know this book was kept in the library of Charlemagne, and I believe it was intended to be kept alongside the Book of Maugis, although somehow over time they became separated. The Book of Enoch must tell us how to locate the weapon, which Maugis calls the Stone of Light, though elsewhere he refers to it as Enoch’s device. This is why we need the Book of Enoch. To find the device, the weapon needed to survive the prime conflict.” Remi gazed at them with fierce eyes. “And we are running out of time.”

“What do you mean?” Ciarán asked warily.

“On the fifth of March, Mars, the Roman god of war and bloodshed, shall pass between Scorpio and Sagittarius. So don’t you see, war and bloodshed between Scorpio and Sagittarius? The prime conflict is nearly upon us!”

“That’s less than four months from now,” Ciarán realized.

“One hundred and five days,” said Remi. “And six hundred sixty-six days from the millennium.” He looked to Dónall. “Don’t you realize its significance?”

Dónall turned away.

“If I am wrong,” Remi argued, “we lose nothing by finishing Nicolas’s mission and finding the Book of Enoch. If there is nothing to the book, so be it. If all of this is nonsense, what harm will have been done? But if I am right and the prophecy has begun, then you
know
we must do this. Or all will be lost. The horrors of the apocalypse will rain down on all. Dónall, the price of being wrong is unimaginable. Surely your logical mind brings you to this conclusion.”

“There is one thing,” Dónall admitted. “We fled Derry after a bishop from Blois came to arrest me for heresy. He knew all about Reims. But he came for Maugis’ book, and he spoke of the prophecy.”

A look of alarm flashed across Remi’s face. “He
knows
? What if he learned that from Nicolas? Perhaps this bishop was the one who seized him! Dónall, listen to me. The enemy works in many ways. Not even priests and monks can be trusted. You and Ciarán were in great danger, just as I had feared!”

Ciarán felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “What has any of this to do with me?”

“Because of your blood,” Remi said. “Because your father’s ancestry can be traced to Gisela, the wife of Maugis d’Aygremont and the daughter of Charlemagne, which makes you of the bloodline of the champion.
That
is why your life is in peril.”

Ciarán’s jaw fell slack.

“You shall not drag him into this!” Dónall yelled. He grabbed Ciarán by the shoulders. “Listen, lad. What Remi just told you is not true. Yes, it appears that Maugis fathered a child with one of Charlemagne’s daughters, even though the king had pledged them to life in convents. And their bloodline did exist among the Carolingian court. But when the Carolingian heir, Louis, and his mother were forced to flee to England, the bloodline of Maugis and Gisela followed them, and there, on that island, it died. I’ve seen proof of it with my own eyes, in the annals of a church in Winchester: proof that the last of their line perished in the year 928. So whatever bloodline you descended from, it is not the line of the champion.”

“Those annals in Winchester may have been forged or amended,” Remi countered, “to cover up the very fact that the bloodline exists.”

Dónall rounded on him. “That is your blindness talking!”

Ciarán’s chest heaved. “Who was my father?”

“Thomas was your father,” Remi said. “And everything I’ve told you, he believed too. So did your mother.”

Ciarán reeled while, before him, the color drained from Dónall’s face. “I never told you,” Dónall said, “because I wanted to protect you. Thomas was wrong, though he never could have known what I later learned at Winchester.”

“Yet he believed so strongly in it that it cost him his life,” Ciarán said through clenched teeth, blinking back the tears. “And my mother’s as well.”

Dónall reached for him, but Ciarán pushed him away. “No,” he said, backing away from the shrine. “You lied!”

He bolted up the stairs, where chants still echoed from the nave, and rushed from the church into the cloister’s garden. He threw back his head and looked up at the night sky with its glimmering array of stars. Was this why his parents died? And his friends, too?

Ciarán prayed to the heavens for an answer but received no response from the starlit vault—only the whisper of a chill breeze through the garden of Saint-Germain-des-Prés.