Scorn of Angels

by John Patrick Kennedy

  And how the fuck am I supposed to do that? wondered Nyx.

  She flew upwards, strong and steady, her wings beating hard and fast. She was not the only one to go through the Gate. A group of Descended had followed her, each one clambering, not after Heaven, but after her.

  They would fall soon, she knew.

  She had made this climb so many times, before God had made the Universe. Even then, there were other places, other dimensions beyond that which God had made or controlled. The Angels used to visit them, to see things that could not even be imagined by humans. Nyx had ridden on the tail of a comet, passing through the primordial gasses that made up a world in a dimension that God had not created. She had stood on the surface of worlds made of glass, and others where the lava fires still burned across the planet.

  And every time, filled with the wonder and joy of what she had seen, she had flown through the Gates, and turned all her thoughts toward God, to seeing him again, and sharing her adventures, and basking in his love.

  What happened to me anyway?

  It wasn’t like she had not been happy for the first eon, or even the first ten. She had done God’s work, sat at his feet in Heaven and worshipped him. But then, somewhere, sometime, when she had been journeying though the universes that existed beyond Creation, when she had watched God preparing to build a world, sometime in there she had wanted more.

  I just wanted to make my own decisions. To go without asking, to decide without consulting, to know that my will was my own and not some divine implantation that God had placed in me without my knowing, the way Tribunal placed the desire to love him.

  Nyx’s wings were growing heavier, and every beat of them was beginning to hurt.

  The other Descended were far below her, struggling to fly at all. Three had already fallen. The last few were flying farther behind.

  How the fuck do I leave this all behind? Nyx wondered. I’ve hated God for longer than there’s been time.

  Her wings now felt like lead, and some of the feathers were beginning to fall out, making it even harder for her to get any upward momentum.

  I can’t fail. I can’t quit. I can’t let everyone down.

  I need to get to Heaven.

  The next flap of her wings failed to bring her any higher. On the one after that she started sinking.

  Oh, no. Please no. I have to get there. I have to.

  Still she sank down; still feathers fell from her wings, and still with every flap the wings grew heavier.

  No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I am Queen of Hell! I will not fail at this. I must get to Heaven! I have to stop Tribunal! I have to save Creation!

  The Gate to Earth, so far below before, was starting to draw closer. Nyx was gaining speed, she realized. Fortunately, the Descended below her were falling even faster. Only one was left on this side of the Gate, and as Nyx watched it fell out of the Path to Heaven and back to the mortal world beyond.

  I can’t do this! I can’t fail! They’re all depending on me! I have to help them. I have to see God!

  I have to see God.

  I can’t think of them. I can’t let them distract me.

  So stop fucking thinking of yourself and concentrate. With brutal strength born of eons in Hell, and twenty years of unspeakable torture in the bottom of the lake of Fire, Nyx concentrated her thoughts on a single, driving idea. I want to see God, and feel his divine presence in front of me.

  I want to see God and feel his divine presence in front of me.

  I want to see God.

  Her wings felt lighter.

  I want to see God.

  I want to see God.

  I want to see God.

  Nyx started moving upward again. Floating up, then flying up, then speeding up as fast as her wings could carry her. She left behind all thoughts of Earth, of Tribunal, of Epiphenia and Persephone. She thought only of God, and how desperate she was to see him again.

  And as she flew up, she began to feel God’s presence.

  It took her breath away.

  Nyx had spent thousands of years ruthlessly suppressing her memory of what it felt like to be near God. The pain of knowing what she had lost had been so great that she had hidden the sense of it deep inside herself, in a place where she didn’t have to think about it or feel it at all. In a place where, for an Angel that never forgot, it was as close to being gone as it could be.

  The presence grew stronger and stronger until it vibrated through every fiber of Nyx’s being. Nyx no longer needed to think about being in God’s presence. She could feel that presence and desired it more than anything else in the universe.

  It was joy and longing all at once. It filled her up and made her far more Nyx than she had been in thousands of years. Yes, this is who I am. I had forgotten. Yes.

  She broke through the clouds and saw Michael standing at the inner Gates of Heaven, welcoming souls. Michael’s jaw dropped, and it was funny enough to bring a smile to Nyx’s lips as she flew up the last little bit and landed on the ledge that stood outside the Gates of Heaven. I’m here!

  Nyx began running for the Gate, knowing that as soon as she stepped over it, she would bring down the full wrath of God upon herself. And I will be unmade. I only hope it’s enough. That he hears me first.

  Then Tribunal’s voice ripped through Heaven, “THE SELF-STYLED QUEEN OF HELL DARES TO APPROACH THE GATES OF HEAVEN!” Tribunal sent. “MICHAEL, STOP HER!”

  Nyx’s heart fell as Michael stepped through the Gates of Heaven and drew his flaming sword.

  Chapter 17

  Tribunal was blown back two hundred miles from the force of Epiphenia’s strike.

  He was spirit only, but even so, the energy that Epiphenia had unleashed on him was enough to hurt a great deal. I’m immortal, Tribunal thought. I am God. I cannot be destroyed.

  “You are not God,” Epiphenia said. “You are an aspect of God. And aspects of God vanish all the time.”

  “I AM GOD!”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I AM!”

  There were less than a hundred thousand of them, now, and nearly a million of Lucifer’s army around them. Persephone had pulled every trick she knew. She’d used rotating battlefronts, used the clouds for cover, used wave attacks. They’d dropped thousands of their enemies into Hell. Some of her army managed to drag Lucifer’s Descended with them as they fell, defeated. Everything had worked, and everything had slowed their defeat, but defeat was still inevitable.

  Lucifer had pulled his troops back, letting his Angels heal. They were spread out wide across the sky to contain the others.

  Tribunal said they had to kill us all first, Persephone thought. That’s why they haven’t gone after the humans. That’s why they’re still fighting us.

  “Break out!” Persephone screamed. “Head for the ends of the Earth! They can’t destroy the humans until they destroy us all, and they can’t kill what they can’t catch! GO!”

  The Angels took off in every direction possible. Thousands were intercepted in the first moments, tens of thousands in the moments after. Persephone wasn’t one of them. She hacked, spun, clawed, bit, and kicked her way out of the surrounding Descended and into the clouds above. Ten other Angels pursued her, but she wasn’t worried about them. They weren’t even close enough to be a problem, and there wasn’t one of them she couldn’t beat.

  And there was only one Descended Persephone was interested in. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let her outlive me.

  “Michael,” said Nyx. “I need to talk to God.”

  “I know,” said Michael. “God isn’t talking to anyone anymore.”

  “If I step on the soil of Heaven, he will come to me,” said Nyx. “If he has the slightest awareness of what’s going on, he’ll feel that and he’ll come.”

  “I know,” said Michael. “I’m sorry, Nyx.”

  Michael’s voice was calm, but his face was a mask of straining muscles.

  “You don’t look so good, Michael.”

  “I’
ve been better,” said Michael. He pulled the sword the rest of the way out of the scabbard. She could see his body trembling as he fought every movement.

  “Tribunal’s going to destroy it all, Michael,” said Nyx. “Everything.”

  “I know,” said Michael. “And he’s just told me to stop you.”

  Nyx looked behind Michael and saw row after row of Angels coming to the Gates. They poured out of the buildings and flew down from the sky. None had their armor on. None was armed. They all seemed curious as much as anything else.

  Probably haven’t seen a show like this in eons. “I just have to step on the soil of Heaven,” Nyx called to Michael. “That’s all. I’ll just put a foot on it. Then God will come and crush me and everything will be done. What’s the harm?”

  “You’ll be destroyed.”

  “But not until God knows what’s going on.”

  “I know,” said Michael. “That’s why Tribunal is making me stop you.”

  Nyx’s teeth ground together in frustration. “We don’t have time, Michael! Creation doesn’t have time!”

  “I know, Nyx,” said Michael and more sorrow than Heaven had ever seen was in his voice. “And I still don’t have a choice.”

  Nyx sighed and opened her hand for her sword. It didn’t appear. Of course. I broke it on Tribunal. She brought out her whip and with a thought, changed it into a two-handed blade.

  “Don’t do this,” Arcana sent to her. “There has to be another way.”

  Nyx glanced down in surprise at the head hanging from her belt. “Fuck, I’d forgotten about you.”

  “Don’t swear. This is Heaven.”

  “No, that is Heaven,” said Nyx, thrusting her chin past Michael. “This is the doorstep and Michael’s going to kill us here.” She reached down with her sword blade and cut the hair holding Arcana to her belt. She looked at Michael. “Is it all right if Arcana comes home?”

  “Of course,” said Michael. “How did you get her head?”

  “Took it from Tribunal.”

  “Good. Thank you. ”

  Nyx lofted Arcana’s head in an easy throw through the Gates of Heaven.

  Raphael caught it. “Welcome home,” he said. “Tell us your story.”

  Arcana opened her mind to Raphael, and to all the other Angels in Heaven.

  Maybe that will help, thought Nyx as she hefted her blade. She managed a smile. “So, Michael, ready for a rematch?”

  On Jupiter, Epiphenia could feel her strength waning. Tribunal kept hammering at her defenses, searching for weaknesses and finding them a half-hundred times every second. Epiphenia blocked them as soon as he found them, but the attacks were coming faster and more furious now. Tribunal was starting to pour his true strength into the fight, and Epiphenia knew there was only so much strength she could throw back without destroying half the universe.

  And that would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? More importantly though, she knew it would not stop him. She could mock him as much as she liked—and she was keeping up a steady stream of belittling insults in every language known to humanity as she fought him—but the truth was, he was far more powerful than she, and capable of destroying her with a thought. The only reason that he hadn’t was that most of his power was being used to keep God from seeing what he was doing. And the longer he takes fighting me, the longer Nyx has to get through.

  “Is that what this is about?” sent Tribunal. “I wondered.”

  “It’s about us destroying a petty little tyrant,” said Epiphenia. “And you will not stop us.”

  “Wrong,” sent Tribunal. “As of now, this fight is over.”

  This time, the blast of power he used was enough to break through almost all of Epiphenia’s defenses. She went flying backward and sank into the rough liquid. Tribunal’s power poured down on her, stronger than before. Epiphenia abandoned all hope of offense and wrapped her own power like a shell around herself, putting all her strength and will into staying alive a little bit longer, so that Nyx could step through the Gates of Heaven and confront God.

  With Michael, combat moved beyond violence and into the realm of art.

  Nyx was very, very good. She’d fought Michael to a standstill for a hundred years in the war for Heaven. She’d spent thousands of years since fighting for power, for control, and just for the fun of it. She was one of the greatest warriors in the universe.

  And he was Archangel Michael, warrior of God, general of God’s army, leader of the Holy Host, and nothing in Creation could surpass him.

  Their blades flickered and danced with one another, the sounds of them meeting and breaking apart so fast as to be an almost continuous ring, and so loud as to reach back through the ranks of the Angels watching.

  The expressions on the Angels’ faces had changed since Arcana had shared her story. Where there had been curiosity, there was now fear. Where there had once been concern, there was now the horrified realization that, though they all felt they should go to God, or stop Tribunal, they were totally incapable of doing so because of the command that Tribunal had put on all of them. Instead, all they could do was watch and suffer their helplessness.

  Raphael looked at Arcana’s head and frowned. Then he cradled it close to his body and willed all of his power into her. A moment later, a hundred other Angels reached out and added their power, too. Arcana’s body began to grow once more, far faster than normal.

  “Dammit, Michael!” yelled Nyx, as his blade grazed her face and opened up her cheek. “Fight Tribunal’s power, will you?”

  “Oh, I am fighting it,” said Michael through gritted teeth. “Why do you think you’re still standing?”

  “Because I’m as good as you are!” snapped Nyx as she evaded a swing and charged in again. “Last time we took a hundred years!”

  “Last time,” said Michael, dodging and blocking a dozen attacks without any apparent effort, “I was trying to give you time to come to your senses.”

  “Bullshit,” said Nyx.

  “Don’t swear, we’re in Heaven.”

  “Like I care!”

  “Find an opening, Nyx,” ground out Michael, as he deflected her blade a dozen more times. “Please. Before it’s too late.”

  In the end, it was Ishtar who found Persephone over the mountains of what would be called South America.

  They had sensed each other for hours, but Persephone was too busy dodging other Descended to deal with Ishtar immediately. Lucifer’s army was still strong and active, and his Descended were slowly hunting down all the survivors of Nyx’s army. Persephone had killed over a hundred, turning them to silver dust floating on the wind. Ishtar, who had been busy doing her own killing, spotted Persephone and dove down on her, screaming as she attacked.

  Persephone met her in the air, smashing Ishtar’s sword aside and feeling the force of Ishtar’s body slamming into her. Sword and whips gave way to teeth and claws as the two grappled and fought one another through the sky. Other Descended saw them, but the sheer hatred radiating from each of them was enough to make them give the two a wide berth and search for other prey.

  Ishtar was the better grappler of the two and fought viciously dirty, drawing blood, and ripping into flesh and muscle a hundred times as they twisted through the air. But if Ishtar was the better fighter, Persephone was the better tactician. Persephone didn’t bother trying to free herself. She knew Ishtar’s style of fighting backward and forward, and knew that any escape attempt, now that Ishtar was on her, would be fruitless.

  She also knew that Ishtar tended to forget about everything except the person she was fighting.

  Which was how, a moment before they were about to crash into the top of a cliff, Persephone managed to reverse them in the air and slam Ishtar headfirst into the mountainside while Persephone rolled over the top. The move cost Persephone the chunk of her shoulder that had been in Ishtar’s teeth, but from the enormous spray of silver blood that flew up when they hit, it had cost Ishtar a fair amount more than that.

  Perseph
one rolled to her feet, sword and whip once more in her hand, flew up in the air and straight down, following Ishtar’s tumbling body. Ishtar had control of her flight in less than a second, and was able to parry the thrust from Persephone’s blade that had been aimed at her eye.

  Which left her open for Persephone’s whip, which was already coming around to slice the feathers off one of Ishtar’s wings before the other could bring her own whip up to block. Ishtar screamed in frustration and rage and grabbed Persephone, dragging her downward to the Earth with her.

  Persephone let Ishtar pull her in, let the other Angel claw her way up her leg and sink fangs into her belly, ripping open the flesh and tearing into Persephone’s entrails, seeking the heart. Persephone changed her sword into a dagger and plunged it again and again into Ishtar’s head, shoulders and back, seeking the spinal column. On her tenth stab, she hit it and watched as Ishtar’s body convulsed and she lost momentary control of her limbs.

  It was only for the shortest of moments, but it was enough.

  Persephone switched their positions in the air again, slamming Ishtar against the wall and dragging her down the cliff face, ripping the flesh of her back open and tearing feathers from her wings. Ishtar howled in rage until her spine repaired itself enough to let her use her body again. She dug her feet into the wall and pushed off it, but Persephone was already prepared, spinning her and slamming her back against the cliff. Ishtar caught hold of Persephone and brought her in close, teeth snapping for Persephone’s neck.

  Both their legs broke when they hit the ground. Ishtar used the momentum to bounce into the air and smash down on top of Persephone, teeth and claws slashing.

  The pain of Persephone’s blade entering her heart was exquisite.

  The two lay on the ground, face-to-face in an embrace of blood and death. They stared into each other’s eyes, hatred and love clear in each other’s expressions.

  “Well,” said Ishtar. “Fuck.”

  “You shouldn’t have betrayed us,” said Persephone, her lips nearly touching Ishtar’s with every word. “You shouldn’t have left us alone in Hell. You should have fought with us!”