Lincoln scans the now foggy rounds. “The Viper must plan to reanimate all the Brimstone Legion. After that, he could attack Black Wing Manor and free Lucifer.”
Happy turns to Obsidian, her eyes wide with fear. “That can’t work, can it? We have the gate of seraphim to protect us, don’t we?”
“Even the powers of the seraphim have limits.” Obsidian hangs his head. “With thousands of molten angels cutting into the gate at once? Its magic would eventually shatter under that assault.”
At that moment, my cell vibrates against my chest once more. I pull out the device and flip it open.
“Myla?” It’s Cissy’s. And her voice quivers in terror.
I suck in a shaky breath. This is exactly what I feared.
Enmity Farm has brought trouble to Cissy and Zeke.
Chapter 22
“Myla? Are you there?” Cissy’s voice quickly accelerates from downright scared to super hysterical.
At this point, Lincoln leans his head closer to mine so we can both hear the conversation. Some of the tension loosens from my shoulders. I won’t lie; it helps to have Lincoln’s strength and warmth a little closer. I’m on a freaked-out phone call … in a foggy Goth sort-of graveyard ... after seeing a reenactment of an entire army of angels getting transformed into stone (among other scary things). If I still had a binky and a blanket, I’d want those close too.
A few yards away, Obsidian and Happy wait semi-patiently. The two of them make quite a pair. There’s the towering seraphim in his dark metal armor. Triple wings arch slightly behind his back. Beside Obsidian, there stands a twelve-year-old girl in a wet bustle-gown from the 1800s. Both stare at me and Lincoln with wide eyes. The words are there, if unspoken.
You’re taking a phone call now? Really?
I totally get it. There’s nothing like an odd phone call at the big moment. And this time is a doozy: we’re deciding how to destroy the Viper and take down Lucifer. But Ciss wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.
I raise my pointer finger, mouth the words one minute, and refocus on the phone. “It’s me, Ciss. What’s wrong? Is there a shootout at the farm?”
“That? No!”
“Good. Then did something turn up on Walker’s watch?”
“No, there’s been no word on that. Lucas is still doing his thing. No, I’m calling about the Enmity brothers outside of firearms. I screwed up. Something seemed off with them, but my agents thought it would just take time to develop them as contacts. The Enmity Boys knew everybody who was anybody, Myla. I should have sent someone in their farmhouse a long time ago.”
“That’s okay, just calm down and tell me what happened.” My pulse speeds. “Are you sure that you and Zeke okay?”
“We’re fine. We finally got into the house, though. You won’t believe what we found inside. The place is full of books. It’s all the stuff they showed on Good Morning Purgatory: super rare tomes on magic, angels, and all sorts of stuff. We found something else, too. Walker’s ring. You know, the silver one with the book carved on it? Do you think someone brought Walker here?”
A shiver rolls down my back. When I last saw Walker in Purgatory, he was wearing that very ring. He even offered it to me before he left to save Drayden. A foul taste creeps into my mouth. All this time, Walker may have been in the Enmity brothers farm, being tortured.
Unholy Hell.
My thoughts race through the implication. Were the Enmity brothers just buddies with the Viper, or were they actively helping that fiend? The image of Walker’s many wounds appears in my mind. That was serious torture. It’s hard to imagine one of my own people going after Walker in that way.
But it is possible.
Rage and sorrow tighten my chest. “Do I think someone brought Walker there? I sure do.”
“Oh,” continues Cissy. “They have all these canopic jars lying around. And journals. So many journals! All of them are covered in notes like ‘extracted gluttony magic, no change to the angels.’ Do you think that’s related to Inferno?”
“Yup.” My mouth pops on the ‘P’ sound. “The Viper was trying to find out what kind of magic would bring back the Brimstone Legion. Are the brothers there? Did you question them? I think they know who the Viper is.” Or worse.
“That’s the thing, Myla. The brothers are gone.” Cissy lowers her voice. “My people think they used ghoul portals to get away. So I thought about what you said back at your parents’ house. The Viper stole the ability to create portals from some unsuspecting ghouls. If all the Enmity brothers portalled away, then what does that mean?”
A new voice sounds nearby, breaking up our conversation. Familiar words echo through the heavy mist.
“Hello, Scala Mother.”
My heart tumbles to my feet. I know that voice.
It’s Travis Enmity.
Chapter 23
I stand outside the Black Wing Manor. My mind takes a snapshot of the moment. Lincoln and I stand with our heads touching as we listen to Cissy’s call. Mist surrounds us. Somewhere in that heavy fog there lay thousands of angels from the Brimstone Legion, all of them frozen into stone. Obsidian and Happy wait a few yards away. Their faces have turned from looks of mild of curiosity to downright alarm.
Those fateful words sound again. “Hello, Scala Mother.”
Back on the phone, Cissy raises her voice. “Did you hear what I said?” she asks. “The Enmity brothers used portals to escape. What does that mean?”
I choke out one word. “Trouble.”
Cissy gasps. “Are you okay?”
A hum sounds as a ghoul portal opens before me and Lincoln. A moment later, Trav steps out of the black door-shaped hole, pulls the phone off my neck, and crushes the device in his hand. The portal vanishes behind him.
I glare at him. “I wasn’t done with that call.”
“How about we talk instead?” asks Trav. His outfit has certainly changed. Instead of jeans and a t-shirt, Trav now wears purple body armor. It’s the same stuff that Zeke uses with his guards. Which solves another mystery.
That’s the armor which went missing months ago.
Trav raises his hands. Golden bracers now cover his arms from his elbow to wrist. The metal is decorated in a pattern of angel wings.
Words fall from my mouth. “You’re wearing Lucifer’s Gauntlets.”
Trav bows slightly at the waist. “I donned them in your honor.”
“Okay.” Eew.
From my peripheral vision, I catch Obsidian lowering his head. The raven on his staff comes to life, its beak opening in a silent caw. Obsidian is casting a spell. Most likely, the seraphim is scanning our new guests. After all, that’s what Obsidian did when Lincoln and I first arrived.
Beside me, Lincoln shifts his weight slightly. No need to glance his way. I already know what Lincoln’s up to. My guy is subtly pulling his baculum from their holster. Warmth and love warm my chest.
Always battle ready. That’s my Lincoln.
“I did all this for you, Scala Mother.” Trav frowns. “Doesn’t it please you?”
How can he ask that question? “You’re the Viper.”
“Is that what you think?” Trav cups his hand by his mouth. “Brothers!”
A chorus of hums sound as six more portals open nearby. The remaining Enmity brothers step onto the grounds. Like Trav, they all wear the purple armor of the Senatorial guard. Each also carries a canopic jar and a seriously grouchy attitude. The portal door holes silently vanish.
It’s official. This situation now qualifies as a little something I like to call: oh shit.
“The Viper isn’t one person.” Trav gestures across his brothers. “My brothers and I all work together to form the Viper. We’re worms with fangs, you might say.”
“Clever,” deadpans Lincoln.
Obsidian steps forward. “Trespassers! Thieves!” The veins on his neck pulse with rage. “My spells just uncovered the truth. You poisoned Drayden.”
After that, things happen so fast, it’s hard to
keep track. Obsidian raises his staff while murmuring a fresh spell. This time, the crow end caws with fury. Happy rubs her palms together and kneels. That’s another spell a-coming, right there. Lincoln ignites his baculum into a long sword. Adrenaline pumps through my veins.
Trav stares at me, cool as anything. “Don’t make me raise the Brimstone Legion. I don’t want to kill your friends.”
The Enmity brothers raise their canopic jars high. All their eyes are locked on Trav.
“I’m not attacking you, Scala Mother.” In a gesture of peace, Trav raises his arms with his palms forward. “We only want to talk.”
Obsidian’s murmuring grows louder. Happy’s voice echoes across the clearing. “I cast my spell,” she begins.
“What did you say to Inferno at the grain bin? She told me all about it.” Trav lowers his voice. “‘Come on,’ you said. ‘Make the first move.’ I know my Scala Mother. You don’t strike unless someone else attacks first.”
I raise my hands. “Everyone stop. Trav and his people aren’t assaulting us.”
Happy and Lincoln pause. Obsidian? Not so much. The seraphim slams his staff on the ground. “I will not stand down. These men poisoned Drayden.”
“And they’re also holding enough canopic jars of power to light up the entire Brimstone League. You want thousands of Infernos raiding Black Wing Manor, or should we listen to what the Viper Brothers have to say?”
A long moment follows while Obsidian scans the faces of the Enmity boy. The seraphim slams his staff onto the ground once more. The crow head returns to being a carving. Crisis temporarily avoided. Go me.
I focus on Trav. “See that?” I gesture toward Obsidian’s staff. “The seraphim has stopped casting spells. Everyone else is standing down. I’m ready to listen to what you have to say.”
“Thank you, Scala Mother.” Trav runs his fingertips over the feather pattern on one arm of Lucifer’s Gauntlets. “The Viper Brothers.” He keeps petting his arm. “I like that name.” At last, Trav stops petting his arm. “For all of history, Purgatory has been nothing but an afterthought. And yet we perform the most crucial service of any after-realm. What do ghouls offer anyone? Nothing. Angels sit on clouds and keep to themselves. Antrum and thrax are necessary, but only because no one has ever finished the job of cleaning out Hell. So who should be the real power in the after-realms?” He stares at me.
I know what Trav wants me to say—namely that quasis should rule everyone—but there’s no way those words are leaving my lips.
Which brings me to a crossroads.
Normally, I’d counter with some snark. But my goal here is to negotiate peace without thousands of magma angels flying around and a psychopathic Lucifer on the loose.
In the end, I decide to play dumb. “Who do you think should be ruling?”
Trav raises his fist. “The quasis.”
Surprise, surprise.
“We should be the new power in the after-realms,” continues Trav. “You’re a key part of that, don’t you see? The Viper Brothers. Our Scala Mother. We’re all one family.”
Ick.
Trav reaches out to cup my cheek. The movement is like watching a bowl of ice cream tumble toward the kitchen floor. You see it happening, but are powerless to stop it. In this case, there’s no yummy ice cream. Instead, thick fingers head toward my face.
Gah.
Quick as lightning, Lincoln steps between me and Trav. “Back off,” orders my guy.
Trav lifts his hands in a gesture that says, I wasn’t doing anything.
Sure, you weren’t.
“Go farther away,” commands Lincoln.
Trav glares at Lincoln for a hot minute, and then takes a pointed step backward. “Is this good enough?” asks Trav. There’s no small amount of sarcasm in the quasi’s voice.
“For now,” replies Lincoln.
“See?” Trav turns to me. “I don’t want to hurt you or your Consort. And the Scala Heir is our sacred little brother. In fact, I even hated ruining your phone. Anything you touch is a holy relic. I’ve wanted to convince you of things, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. So I’ve sent Inferno to talk to you. Since you’re an archangel’s daughter, I thought Inferno might be more goddess-like and impressive.”
Oooookay. We’re all still talking and not raising lava angel armies, so I should really let that Inferno comment slide.
Don’t be snarky. Don’t be snarky. Don’t be snarky.
Screw it. I’m being snarky.
“Inferno was not goddess-like and impressive. More like a molten marshmallow you can’t get off your thumb.”
“Inferno will arrive soon.” Trav scans the skies. “I’ll deal with her then. It’s unacceptable to displease our Scala Mother.”
I nod. My little bit of snark seems to have landed well. No war and Inferno’s in the dog house. Nice.
“Since Inferno failed,” continues Trav, “allow me to convince you.”
Not sure I like where this conversation is going.
“Convince me of what?” I ask.
“Why, once I take on Lucifer’s powers, I’ll be King of the Angels. I want you to be my queen.”
Every nerve ending in my body goes on alert.
Eew, eew, eew.
“Dang.” Wincing, I make ‘my gee wiz what a shame’ face. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m already a queen.”
“You rule the thrax,” counters Trav. “That doesn’t count.”
“It does to me,” says Lincoln. Muscles flex in his neck. My guy is close to losing it.
For the record, Lincoln deserves an award for not ripping Trav’s head off. My husband is downright territorial when it comes to me.
“Please,” says Trav. “I won’t touch you or anything like that.”
I raise my pointer finger. “You tried to do that a minute ago.”
Trav laughs like I made a joke. “It will all be a show for our people. The quasis need to see a continuation of leadership. You, your mother, your father. If we all agree that the quasis must rule over everyone with me as King of the After-Realms, then the transition will go much easier.”
I rub my neck and think things through. This isn’t some dumb ass thief who wants to just grab Lucifer’s power and steal more stuff. Nope. Trav has a plan. Which brings me to my next question.
“And if I disagree?”
Trav points to a nearby canopic jar. “We can do it the hard way. Raise the Brimstone Legion.” Setting his pinkies on either side of his mouth, Trav lets out an ear-piercing whistle. “Inferno!” he cries.
Red lights flicker in the skies above. Waves of heat cascade around us. Fog billows as Inferno lands nearby. She turns to Trav. “Yes, Your Highness?”
“Once I raise the Brimstone Legion, how long before your angels break down the gates of Black Wing Manor?”
“About seven minutes.”
“And overrun the after-realms?”
“Once you take in Lucifer’s power, only a matter of days. With our new molten forms, we can cause far more damage.”
Trav focuses on me again. “Do you really want to be responsible for so much carnage?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re assuming all this will work. To begin with, Lucifer won’t let you drag out his powers. Plus, my parents will never allow you to rule the after-realms, no matter what I say. You’ve cooked up a crackpot idea.”
“How can you say such things?” Trav stomps his foot. “All the hard work has been done already by me. I was the one who found Lucifer’s Gauntlets on our farm. I figured out how to use their power to make ghoul portals. I enabled my brothers to take what we wanted. First smaller heists, then bigger ones. In fact, we were so effective, your father built a Pulpitum near our farm. He thought demons were at work and thrax needed quick access. Imagine that. Demons!”
Trav taps his chest with his fist. “Your father and his Pulpitum gave me an idea. If someone like Xavier thinks I’m as powerful as a demon, what can’t I do? So I snuck into the Dark Lands, g
ot some books, and put together our master plan. What we needed was an army, and the books said there’s one right here! After that, we had to figure out what kind of magic would raise the Brimstone Legion. We tried all sorts of powers, but ran across Walker’s by accident. And Walker changed everything. With his magic, we raised Inferno, and then? Walker was a gift that kept on giving. Every time we’d drain him, his power would eventually return. In his honor, we even leaked information about our crimes to Good Morning Purgatory and gave Walker’s name as the source.”
“Keep talking about Walker and I’ll punch you in the face.”
Trav’s mouth thins to an angry line. “I even deduced how to raise all the stone angels at once, only by using my brothers, canopic jars with Walker’s power, and Lucifer’s Gauntlets. So don’t tell me my plan won’t work. It already has. Now we’re ready. It’s your choice, Scala Mother. Will you lead our family in a bloodless war? Will you be my queen? Or must we do this the hard way?”
“Um…” I shift my weight foot to foot. “No.”
Trav’s scorpion tail arches over his shoulder. “I didn’t want it to come to this.”
“To what?”
“I can take your powers out with these gantlets, and then place them in someone else. I don’t want to do that. But I’m to become become King of the After-Realms, then I’ve got hard choices ahead of me. I’ll take care of my family first.”
“Did you hear that?” asks Obsidian. “Talking to this criminal is pointless.”
“Give me another minute here,” I say. Obsidian frowns, but he doesn’t turn his staff into a talking raven, either.
When I next speak, I take care to look across Trav and all the enmity Brothers. “I heard Trav’s words. Now you all must listen to your Scala Mother.” The seven brothers stare in my direction, their eyes large and mouths open.
I’ve got one shot at this. Come on, verbal fireworks.
“You’ve talked a lot about family,” I begin. “Did you know there are four kinds? Family of the heart, of the mind, of the soul, and of the body. Indeed, we quasis are all family of the body in that we share tails and powers across the deadly sins. But what about the mind? Inside Black Wing Manor, there’s a ghoul who wrote books on military strategy that saved the after-realms at the Battle of the Gates. That’s family of the mind.”
The Dark Lands (Angelbound Origins Book 5) Page 13