Angels Defying (Angels Rising Book 3)

by Harriet Carlton

  Chapter 27

  Imorean took a deep breath as the heavy gym door fell shut behind him. An entire week with Michael. He wondered for a moment if he would rather take the Archangel or Vortigern.

  “What took you so long?”

  A smile broke on Imorean’s face as he realized that his squad was in the gym as well. It was Roxy who had called to him.

  “Meeting,” shrugged Imorean, as he trotted over to them. So, it wouldn’t be just him and Michael for a week.

  “Hey, he pulled us from classes,” grinned Toddy, slinging an arm around Imorean and Roxy’s shoulders. “Christmas must have come early.”

  “What could be more important than our classes though?” asked Mandy. She and Colton approached together.

  Colton pushed his glasses further up his nose. “It can’t be good.”

  “What’s on the cards, squad leader?” asked Baxter.

  “As far as I can tell, swordsmanship,” replied Imorean. “Hey, can anyone tell me if Uriel ever made it back to class?”

  “Not that I saw,” shrugged Dustin. “He went off with you then Michael came to get us.”

  Imorean frowned. “I thought as much.”

  “What? You suspicious of him too?” snarled Ryan.

  “I might be.”

  “For the love of God, stop. Both of you,” groaned Roxy. She sounded exasperated. “I can’t stand you two comparing sizes all the time.”

  “I would prefer it if you did not involve my father in your arguments,” said Michael, appearing at Roxy’s shoulder in a bloom of green.

  “Sorry, Michael,” replied Roxy, turning pink.

  “What do you want us to do?” asked Imorean. He stepped forward and stood half a pace in front of Roxy, just between her and Michael.

  “Wooden swords. We fight in the air with them today. Everyone get a partner. Ryan, you and Imorean are the only two compatible for talent. Pair up.”

  A strange anger came alight in the pit of Imorean’s stomach as Ryan sneered at him. Was it jealousy? Lately, Ryan had spent more time with Roxy than he, Imorean, had. Ryan had a family that wasn’t dead. Ryan wasn’t an Archangel. Imorean shook his head. Yes, he was definitely jealous.

  “Frayneson!” called Michael. Imorean spun and only just managed to catch the wooden sword that the Chief Archangel tossed at him. Two loud claps stilled the entire gym and Imorean rested the wooden point on the floor.

  “We will run the in-flight exercises two ways. The first of which we shall carry out today. The second we shall do tomorrow. First, you and your partner will get up to altitude and spar. You are free to perform on each other any of the swordsmanship maneuvers you have been taught. The first to surrender or fall to the floor will lose. In tomorrow’s exercise, you will all take to the air. It will be a free for all. You will all fight each other to mimic the chaos you will encounter on the battlefield.”

  Imorean nodded and turned to look at his squad. He and Ryan were a pair. Dustin and Baxter. Toddy and Colton. Mandy and Roxy. They were ready.

  “Dustin, you and Baxter go first,” said Imorean. “Everyone else, start limbering up. We’re going to be here for a while.”

  White wings stretched backwards, flaring all the way out. There was a tap on the back of Imorean’s head, but when he turned, there was no one there. Michael was drumming his fingers on his upper arm, eyes on Baxter and Dustin. In spite of that, a few words cut clearly across Imorean’s thoughts in a voice that was distinctly Michael’s.

  ‘Colton and Toddy next. Colton will need more time for recovery.’

  Imorean shook his head. He still hated talking without words. It didn’t feel natural. He turned and stared hard at Michael, gripping tight onto a single, but complex thought and pushing it toward the brown-haired Archangel.

  ‘I thought mental communicating was supposed to be used for simple ideas.’

  ‘For other Archangels, yes. For me and you, no. We have a mental bond, meaning we can use it for more complex thoughts.’

  Imorean settled for glaring at Michael for a moment, unable to form a steady enough thought to return to the Archangel. He turned away and looked up at Baxter and Dustin. There were small smiles on both of their faces.

  “Hey!” shouted Imorean. “Be serious! We’re training not to die here. The least you can do is wipe those grins off your faces.”

  “Roger!” called Dustin. Imorean folded his arms, glad to see that Dustin looked slightly more sober.

  Ultimately, it was Baxter who lost altitude first. He barely stopped himself from hitting the gym floor. Dustin landed a few moments later and both looked at Michael for approval.

  “Imorean was right to reprimand you both,” said Michael, folding his wings tightly. “You need to take this training seriously. I would not like to be burying two members of this group who could have survived their first battle.”

  Baxter’s gaze dropped to the floor and Dustin looked anxiously between his friend and Michael.

  Michael didn’t spare a glance for them. Instead, barked, “Next!”

  “Colton, Toddy, you’re up,” said Imorean, turning to them and giving them an encouraging smile. Colton looked nervous. Brown eyes flicked to Michael. Was Colton really battle-ready? He grinned though as Colton outmaneuvered Toddy easily, his small, red wings playing to his advantage. There was a grim look of determination on Colton’s young face and Imorean’s mouth opened slightly as Colton landed hard on Toddy’s shoulders, pushing him downward.

  “Girls, you are up,” said Michael. “Imorean, Ryan, I would begin warming up if I were you.”

  Imorean nodded and turned his back on Roxy and Mandy as they sparred. It would be better if he wasn’t distracted. For a moment, he closed his eyes and gathered himself together. This would be the first time he had fought anyone since his short battle with Vortigern over the fjord. He swallowed hard, pushing those memories to the back of his mind. He couldn’t dwell on them. He couldn’t afford to right now. He couldn’t afford to dwell on them ever.

  “Atta girl!” shouted Ryan. Imorean turned. Mandy had landed heavily on the gym floor and Roxy descended in a blur of rainbow color. She offered Ryan a soft smile as she landed. Imorean resisted the urge to curl his lip.

  “Imorean, Ryan. Go,” said Michael. Imorean locked eyes with Michael for a second. ‘Do not hold back. Feel free to use any of the tactics you and I have already used in training.’

  Imorean blinked, silently acknowledging what his commander had said. He leaped up into the air and beat his wings a few times, feeling the lack of air flow. He wished they were outside. It would be easier out there. Brown eyes fixed on Ryan. There was an angry look in the other teenager’s eyes and Imorean knew that neither of them were planning on hitting the floor first. He took a deep breath and grinned. The larger boy took his bait and his near black wings pulled up tight. Imorean rolled out of his way, turned upright and flew toward the metal rafters. He closed his eyes for a second and extended his senses. Ryan was behind him. He could feel him. The presence of another soul. He grinned. After months of trying, he was finally able to properly understand one of an Archangel’s abilities. He banked tightly and fell downward, the wooden tip of his sword dislodging a few of Ryan’s dark feathers. The ginger haired boy hissed loudly and swore. Imorean swooped out of the way and narrowly avoided Ryan’s attack. He turned sharply and raced back up, wooden sword poised for an upward offensive. A large hand grabbed a tight hold of his wing and Imorean bared his teeth. He folded his other wing tightly against his side and forced Ryan to take both of their weights. Imorean grinned as an expression of shock raced over Ryan’s face and they fell. With a sharp twist, Imorean pulled himself free of Ryan’s grip and veered up as the redheaded boy tumbled past him toward the gym floor. In the back of his mind, Imorean heard someone snap their fingers and he too fell helplessly to the floor.

  “What was that for?” snapped Imorean, rubbing the back of his head as he stood up.

  “Do not get overconfident. Ryan was an
easy opponent for you, because you are accustomed to fighting me,” said Michael, lowering his hand. “My, my, my, does time not fly. Students, you are dismissed. Take a few hours for break, then go to your individual leadership classes. We shall meet down here tomorrow morning for the second half of this exercise. Academic classes are suspended until further notice.”

  Imorean blew some of his white hair out of his eyes and started to follow his classmates out of the gym. Michael’s hand on his chest stopped him.

  “Stay here. You and I have more to work on.”

  “I need food, Michael. I’m still human, I need sustenance.”

  Michael scowled. “Be quick.”

  “I’m not going to give myself indigestion, Michael. I’ll be as quick as I can. Maybe you could have an ounce of patience.”

  “Watch your mouth, Frayneson. I have been lenient with you, but my patience is wearing.”

  Imorean glared at Michael for a moment, then shook his head and dropped his eyes to the floor. Michael was still his commander. Imorean quirked a small smile as he left the gym. This was the side of Michael that he knew how to deal with.

  “I don’t know how I feel about all this,” said Colton, pushing his plate away. Imorean exchanged a quick glance with Toddy. Colton looked slightly green.

  “About what?” asked Imorean, resting his elbows on the table. He spared a quick glance at Roxy. His best friend was sitting across the room at Ryan’s table, right next to the ginger haired boy. Imorean ran a hand through his own white hair and turned his attention back to Toddy, Mandy and Colton.

  “All the fighting,” sighed Mandy. “I’m feeling the same way. I’m pretty scared.”

  Colton rubbed a hand over his face. “I feel like we’re all going to die.”

  “Don’t be such a Debbie-downer,” grinned Toddy. “The battle will be a cinch. I bet we won’t even be anywhere near the fighting. We’ll be in the back somewhere, probably as a reserve unit.”

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Mandy.

  “Mandy’s right. There’s no certainty,” nodded Colton. “Honestly, I’m scared.”

  “Mandy, Colton, we’re kids. I mean, all of us except Ryan, he’s eighteen, but you get the idea. Michael wouldn’t put kids at the frontline.”

  “What do you think, Imorean?” asked Mandy. “You know Michael best.”

  A sharp retort lingered on the tip of his tongue and Imorean tasted bitterness in his mouth. Instead though, he smiled. “I think what Toddy says is right. We’re too young. I’d say Michael’s only taking us because he wants us to get some experience.”

  Mandy and Colton relaxed visibly and shared a relieved look. Imorean felt sick and stood up. He darted another glance at Roxy and Ryan’s table just in time to see Ryan slip his hand into Roxy’s. His brows drew further together, his glare deepening.

  “I’ll see you guys later. Michael asked me to come back for more training.”

  Toddy grimaced in sympathy, tearing his eyes away from the table where Ryan, Baxter, Dustin and now Roxy sat. “Sheesh. He keeps you busy. Good luck.”

  “I’ll need it,” sighed Imorean, turning away. His stomach burned.

  Chapter 28

  “What’s so important that I can’t have a few hours off?” asked Imorean, sitting across from Michael on a yoga mat.

  “Special Archangelic talents is our first point of work,” said Michael, folding his hands together. “Each of the Upper Archangels has one. There are certain elements of the Earth that we are able to tune into and manipulate within our range of power.”

  “What are they?”

  “Uriel holds special power over metal. He was the one who first developed the angel swords. Raphael’s power has to do with water.”

  “He’s the Archangel version of Poseidon?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. Gabriel has certain powers over the earth itself. Tectonic plates, earthquakes and so on.”

  “And let me guess, you’re the one who controls fire?”

  “No. Storms and other weather-related natural disasters, actually.”

  “Wait, so none of you have a power over fire?”

  “We used to have an angel whose talent was pyrotechnics, but he is long gone.”

  “Who was it?”

  “It does not matter who it was. The ability for fire manipulation is dead. It died with the Archangel who held the talent. The core of the ability itself is extinct.”

  “But I saw you manipulate Holy Fire when you came to get me from Vortigern.”

  “Ah, that is possible for two reasons. The first is because all Archangels have the ability to manipulate a fraction of another Archangel’s power. I can use fire for a short time in the physical realm. I can also use it on the astral plane, which is how you saw me use it while we were in Vortigern’s head. When one is on the astral plane, anything is possible. However, you are still not ready for work on the astral plane. It requires an energy and a focus that you do not yet have. For now, put the idea out of your mind. What we are here to do today is figure out whose talent you take after.”

  “Shouldn’t I take yours?”

  “That is the most likely, but since we have never changed a human before, there is no real telling whose talent you will have. A word of warning, I would not attempt trying to manipulate fire. It is an extremely temperamental element and there is no one left alive who truly understands how to work with it. Of all the elements, it is the most dangerous.”

  “How do I find out my element?”

  “We are going to find out together. Give me your hand.”

  Imorean hesitated. This was the closest he had been to Michael since the Archangel had betrayed him. Physical contact was something he had done his best to avoid with Michael. He swallowed and closed his hand around Michael’s wrist. Long, strong fingers wrapped around his own.

  “Close your eyes. Find the most peaceful place you can think of. We are physically connected for the time being. I will be able to find you within your mind wherever you go.”

  “Why do we have to do it like this?” asked Imorean, closing his brown eyes.

  “It is easier to find your skill on the mental plane before the physical.”

  “What I really want to know is why you’re clinging onto me like an anxious koala.”

  Michael chuckled very quietly. “So that I can follow you through your mental state to wherever your quiet place ends up being. We will only have to do it this way once.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, center your mind. Focus on clearing everything away. Find the quiet place in your mind.”

  Imorean took a deep breath and pushed all of his thoughts away. He thought back. Where had he always felt at home? Where was home? In his mind’s eye, he found himself standing back inside his living room. The couches were not ripped, nor were they torn open. He could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen. The clock on their mantelpiece had stopped. The house was so quiet, he could have heard a pin drop.

  “Are you all right here?” asked Michael, appearing at Imorean’s shoulder.

  “I think so,” replied Imorean, using only his mind to communicate. Out of the physical arena, it was much easier than actually speaking.

  “Take a seat and let us begin.”

  Imorean sat down on the couch. It was more uncomfortable than he remembered. He looked around for a moment. Was this his idealistic view of home? No flaws. Quiet. Too quiet. It was too perfect. It wasn’t real.

  A large, wooden bowl materialized on the table. Imorean looked up at Michael, one eyebrow raised.

  “We will be using this to generate your element on a small scale. It gives you a small arena to work with. What is the first element that sticks in your mind? Which one do you feel the most strongly about?”

  Imorean stared hard at the bowl. Quickly, he ran over the elements Michael had described moments before. Heeding Michael’s warning, he pushed away the temptation to focus on fire. Metal, no. It was too unyielding. Water? Still, no. Too flexible,
too immaterial. Earth? Again, no. It just felt wrong. Imorean swallowed. Storms. Natural disasters. Was that what he was to control? Destruction? Was it his fate to be just like Michael?

  He closed his eyes for a moment and focused hard on storm clouds. He opened his eyes. Nothing. The bowl remained unchanged. He gritted his teeth and thought of a rainstorm. Nothing appeared in the wooden bowl. Not a drop of water or a bead of vapor. He looked up at Michael. The Archangel’s eyes were impassive.

  “Try again.”

  Imorean swallowed hard and glared at the bowl. What other natural disasters were there? He thought of cyclones, of volcanic eruptions, of earthquakes, of the most powerful hurricane he could imagine. But nothing happened. The bowl looked back at him in mockery. In his mind’s eye, Imorean focused on a tornado. He conjured the details, the thought of all the science behind them that he knew. He pictured a tornado, black and swirling. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of movement. He gritted his teeth and focused harder. His wings twitched. He inhaled sharply, feeling breathless. His vision blurred. His muscles shook.

  There was a gentle tug around Imorean’s wrist and his living room slipped away. He opened his eyes. He and Michael were still in the freezing gym at Felsenmeer. He was sweating.

  “That is enough for today.”

  “Why did you do that? I nearly had it.”

  “No. No, you did not. I am sorry to disappoint you, but nothing happened.”

  “I could have sworn I saw something.”

  Michael shook his head slowly.

  “I’m useless,” muttered Imorean, his mouth working before his mind.

  “Useless?”

  Imorean bit his tongue. “Ignore me.”

  “No. Tell me what is on your mind?”

  “I can never do anything you ask me to do. I can’t hold up on a mental plane. I can’t get to grips with any of my powers.”

  “That is through no fault of your own. Being an Archangel is still very new to you. It is a piece of yourself you did not even know existed until a few months ago. I do not expect mental performances like this to come naturally.”