by Tim Hawken
“You are to speak of no one about this,” I cautioned, placing it into his palm and closing his fist around it. “My words are for you only. I am the messiah your people have been waiting for, but no bodies will rise from your cemeteries today. All you need to know is that the life after this one is full of freedom. By the time this gold has left your family’s hands, no one on this earth will have to worry about suffering in the hereafter, no matter which God they pray to. My love is unconditional, unlike my father’s. Go forth knowing that every religion is equal in my eyes.”
With that, I turned and rejoined my party, leaving a stunned Elijah standing next to his taxi.
ELEVEN
AS WE ENTERED THE INSIDE COURTYARD where the Aedicule of Ascension stood, I chided myself for my rash action. Religions had been started on less. I had turned stone to gold and told a man I was the messiah. He could have been outside the building now, showing people what I had given him, saying God on earth was inside. I only hoped that my warning to tell no one would at least keep him silent until we had risen to Heaven. A small part of me rejoiced with amusement. Asmodeus would be rankled at any influence I might have on his master creation. Earth and man were his toys to play with and no one else’s. It wasn’t my intention to simply meddle, however, but chip away at any divisions he had created over the millennia. Sometimes small actions could have large effects, given enough time.
Our group fell into a line which snaked back out of the stone building. It was an unglamorous place for a major religious site. The wall that enclosed the courtyard was basic and inside was just dust and a single pathway leading inside the Aedicule. If this really was where Jesus had risen to Heaven, it had very little decoration compared with less significant places. Perhaps it was because of the constant strife in the region that something more awe-inspiring had not been constructed, when it might only be torn down again. Mary stood at the head of our party, the others in the middle and myself at the back. The line moved painfully slowly and my feet started to itch with impatience. We were so close. While we stood, I concentrated and let the elemental vision drip over my perception. The world around turned from a normal day into a marvelous construction of glowing molecules. All my attention was drawn instantly upward. With this view, it was unmistakable that we were in the right place. A wide, sparkling staircase of pearled atoms stretched out of the building and up steeply, into the sky. No beings walked up or down. It was a deserted pathway to Heaven. The outline of the steps was clear. This was Jacob’s Ladder! My vision snapped back as the line shuffled ahead again. My heart was charging a marching beat in my chest. Mary’s flaming head disappeared into the Aedicule, while more people exited. Clytemnestra followed inside, then Germaine, then Marlowe. I stepped forward, almost pushing Charlotte to hurry her progress. Smithy looked back at us as he entered next.
“We’re here,” I whispered to Charlotte.
She flashed an excited grin back to me. This might only be the first obstacle, but it was one that we had been working so hard on. It felt like a victory in itself just to be at the base of the steps. Two more tourists exited the building and we were allowed through. Inside was a cramped, round room. The high ceiling gave an illusion of space and the windows, about ten feet up, flooded the structure with natural light. The walls were bare, but everyone’s attention was on the floor anyway. Towards the far end, there was a shallow rectangular hole in the ground, framed by stone blocks. As we walked forward, I could see that inside was a single footprint, eroded slightly but clearly pressed into the smooth, white stone in the ground. This was the last mark Jesus left on Earth, before he rose above. The air was hushed with a reverent silence. All I could hear was the blood pulsing in my ears. I moved quietly to the side of the holy place, using my vision to see that the stairway we were looking for began right in front of where the imprint sat. It rose up and through the wall, which was made of bland elements of rock. The contrast with the pearl hue of another world couldn’t have been more striking. Steadying myself, I resumed normal vision.
Touching Smithy on the arm, I beckoned him and Marlowe closer, saying in a low whisper, “This is the place. We need to somehow get the rest of the tourists out of here, so we can prepare to move to Heaven in peace.”
They both nodded their understanding and I went over to where Mary and Clytemnestra were huddled on the other side, to let them know our intent. Before I made it to them, I heard Marlowe clear his throat loudly. The action made everyone in the hushed space stare his way.
“Excuse me, friends,” he said calmly, clasping his hands in front of his stomach. “I have a bomb strapped to my body. If you do not want to be blown up, I suggest you leave this building right away.”
It was like all air had left the room. Color drained from every face present, before panic kicked in. Even those who couldn’t speak English would have understood the word “bomb”. One woman wearing a headdress screamed and bolted for the door. Her action snapped the rest of the people in the room out of their dread-trance and, with wild fear in their eyes, all scrambled for the door, trying to save their lives. Each of us stepped back against the walls to let the people out. Bodies were bunching at the door as other people outside, not knowing what was happening, tried to push back inside for a look.
“Bomb!” someone else yelled.
The bottleneck that had been forming at the door broke free, letting the fleeing tourists scamper away from the imminent blast zone. Outside, frantic yelling rippled outward, carrying the word that there was a terrorist inside the building. As the last person hurtled out of the door, I sent a rush of elements after them, sealing the exit and leaving the seven of us inside. I piled a reinforcement of earth and wood on top, shutting off the noise and anyone fool enough to try and come back in. I turned to Marlowe with frustration.
“I was thinking of something a little less dramatic,” I said angrily.
“It worked didn’t it?” he smiled back.
There was no arguing with that. We were now alone: free to explore exactly how Jacob’s Ladder worked. I beckoned for everyone to gather around as I walked toward the footprint in the ground at the base of the staircase.
“You cannot see it with human eyes,” I said. “But this is where we begin our climb. It’s a carpet of elements, stretching straight out of this wall. I dare say it will be quite a journey, making our way up.”
“How does it function?” Clytemnestra asked, squinting towards the corner where I was pointing, to see if she could make anything out.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, knowing the others wouldn’t be able to see what I could. “Mary?”
“Unfortunately the bible didn’t give any instructions,” she answered, not offering any help.
I reached out tentatively with my foot, where I knew the elements were sitting in their invisible state. As I let it drop, I felt my soul connect to a hard surface. Encouraged, I pushed off the floor and stepped up. The rest of the group looked on in astonishment. Could it be so easy? Charlotte was the first to move forward to try and join me. However, her foot went straight through, leaving me suspended above her. My feet were at her knee height. She looked up to me perplexed, then down at her feet, as though something must be swimming around her legs. I changed my vision and could see that the elements were sluicing straight through her physical body, as if there was nothing there. Around the edges of my own feet, the pearl color had solidified into a bright blue. I walked up one more step. As my feet left the bottom rung, the pearl color returned. The blue was once again exactly where I stood. It must have looked completely surreal to the others, seeing me stepping up and down an invisible pathway. Hell, however, had desensitized them to odd occurrences, so they kept their cool. I came back down to ground level, looking back again with normal vision. It didn’t make sense. Why could I go up and not the others?
“Perhaps it’s like the entry to my home,” Marlowe mused.
I recalled that if you didn’t know that the doorway was there when entering The Per
ceptionist’s kitchen, you ended up stuck in a boxy, yellow room. Perhaps that was the answer. Considering Marlowe was used to such things, I urged him to give it a try. Again, his feet passed right through. Clytemnestra, Mary, Germaine and Smithy all took their turns. Nobody but me could walk upward. I even went so far as walking right up to the wall of the aedicule. Reaching out to touch the stone, the hard surface gave way, leaving a soft place for me to pass through, should I have desired. It was a mystery. No matter how hard I studied the stairway’s construction, I couldn’t figure it out. I turned to the others once again, becoming nervous that we might not find the answer quickly. Police would be gathering outside soon enough. We didn’t need any distraction from our true course. I paced around the room. No one seemed to have any ideas, until Germaine spoke softly.
“It’s the blood,” he said.
The rest of us stopped and watched him, at first thinking he was using this as a pretext to be able to have his jewel. His eyes were clear, however, the look on his face half-amused, as though he had had an epiphany.
“It’s the blood!” he repeated louder. “Jesus might have been human when he ascended, but he still had the divine blood in his soul just like you, Michael. The angels are made from the stuff of Heaven as well, which is why they can use it too.”
Yes. The reasoning clicked perfectly into place and I knew that he was correct. It was time for us to use the jewels we had won from The Furies.
“Mary,” I said, turning to my friend. “Would you like the honor of trying out Germaine’s theory first?”
Germaine started to object, but Marlowe put a hand on his shoulder.
“Ladies first, my friend,” he said.
Mary reached inside the folds of her dress and pulled out a single, scarlet jewel. She opened her mouth and put it inside, letting it sizzle into her tongue. A brief burst of power shimmered out from her body and she blinked. The whites of her eyes had turned red. We all took an involuntary step back at her appearance, unsure that her body would hold. Germaine shuffled nervously next to me. He of all of us knew what Mary must be experiencing right now. I held my breath with anticipation. She stared at her fingers for a moment, before looking up at us and smiling. The action gave me confidence.
“How do you feel?” I ventured slowly, remaining alert.
She paused for a moment, looking up towards the ceiling. Her vision traced down the wall and stopped just where Jacob’s Ladder spread down to the earth.
“I feel great,” she said. “Like this is the right thing to do. I can see everything.”
I checked her body with my elemental vision. Everything seemed to be in place. There was a glow of power surging through her veins, but it was held in check by the flesh encasing her. A deep golden knot of energy throbbed in her chest. The structure of her mind appeared as solid as ever. Mary tentatively walked forward and I moved aside to let her through. She raised her foot and brought it down again. This time it held fast. Stepping up higher again, she looked back to us, holding out her arms.
“Behold, she can now fly like an angel.”
The whole group let out a whoop of triumph. We had done it! Smithy clapped Marlowe on the back with uncontained excitement.
“Charlotte,” Mary beamed down to my wife in triumph. “You’re next. Come.”
I gently pressed on Lotte’s back to urge her on. This was a great moment and I was proud to be able to watch her take her place in this. She walked forward, holding her hand up to Mary, who descended the stairs, reaching again into her dress. As she neared the bottom of the steps, Mary took Lotte by the arm. As she withdrew her other hand from her dress, Mary’s smiling face turned into one of pure rage. There was no jewel inside her fist. Instead, it was a knife, materializing from the elements. The sharp blade glinted with the same glow of murder that now shone in Mary’s dark eyes.
“Here’s your blood,” she growled.
Before any of us could react, Mary plunged the blade into Charlotte’s eye socket, sending a spurt of blood squirting into the air. Punching hard, she then struck Charlotte in the chest, who was sent gasping backwards with the knife still in her skull. Her body crashed into Germaine and the pair tumbled to the floor.
In the moment of confusion, Mary turned on her heel and fled up the stairs. She disappeared through the wall with the speed of a poisonous traitor.
TWELVE
MY MIND SWAM WITH INDECISION. Part of me wanted to go after Mary; the greater part needed to see if Charlotte was still with us. My love won out and I rushed down to her side. She was bleeding onto Germaine, who cradled her in his arms. I noticed Marlowe sweep past, lunging towards the wall. He hit solid rock. In his all human state, he had no chance of passing through. Staring down at Charlotte, I could see her face had already gone grey with death. Her one eye was glassy, no light inside. A look of surprised horror was frozen on her lifeless face.
“She’ll be back in Hell when we return,” Clytemnestra said abruptly. “You have to go after Mary. There’s no time.”
No sooner had she said the words, than a flapping of wings sounded in the air. With a thud, the forms of angels dropped down into the frames of the windows above us. Black silhouetted figures blotted out any light coming into the room. The space around us fell into darkness as we all watched in horror. One of the shadows shifted and a hand smashed through the glass of one of the windows, which rained shards on top of us. Another window burst in a shower of glass and a shining white wing started to squeeze through the small gap above.
“It’s a trap!” Marlowe yelled.
He bent down and tore the knife out of Charlotte’s blood soaked head. In a swift movement, he raked the sharp edge across his wrists, his own blood surging forth.
“We can’t let them take us hostage,” he panted. “You go. We’ll make sure we die before they get us. Go!”
He gave me a shove, before handing the knife to Clytemnestra. She plunged it into her breast in one swift movement, her body collapsing to the ground. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“Go!” Marlowe yelled once again, ripping the knife out of Clytemnestra’s body and throwing it at Smithy.
Rather than hesitating any longer, I let my anger loose. Gathering all the hatred within, I blasted it up towards the windows, where the angels were struggling to get inside. Their screeching pain was music to my ears. Letting the elemental vision take complete hold I locked the stairway in my sights. Running as quickly as my human form would allow, I sprinted up the pearly steps, passing right through the elements of stone and into the outside world. As I rushed up, I could see golden forms of angels fluttering on my periphery below. I only had eyes for above. In the distance I could see the form of Mary, dashing up into the cloud-laden sky. Swelling air behind me, I used my talents to increase my pace. Rather than running, I was soon flying. Blinking free of the elements, I trained my vision to see the normal world. The path beneath me might have been invisible, but my target wasn’t. She was just about to retreat into a large, grey cloud above. Increasing my efforts, I quickened my pace even further. Air whipped at my face as I reached an inhuman velocity. I was gaining. I would have that treacherous killer in my grasp shortly. Wrath boiled my blood.
A screeching just below me made me look down. Hot on my heels was an Archangel, its muscled body flexed in rapid flight. I could see its wings were singed from my attack, but it didn’t seem to affect its speed. Below, his brothers were also giving chase. I shot another blast of fire down, which glanced off the angel’s shoulder. He swung to the side, slowing momentarily before he beat his wings forward again. A flicker of triumph flashed through my chest, seeing that none of the Archangels beneath me were carrying any bodies. My friends must have escaped their fleshy forms and were now roaring back to the underworld. What small amount of joy might have been inside was lost, though, when I realized that if I returned as well, all our hopes for a skirmish on Heaven were completely dashed. We needed the jewels that Mary had with her. I had to catch her at all costs.
Trying to block out my pursuers, I focused forward and upward again. I was almost at the clouds. Mary would be just beyond. Gritting my teeth, I tried to contain the rage inside me, ready to unleash it on that murderous traitor. I held my breath as the vapor of the cloud touched my skin. I slid right through its watery form, bursting out the other side. My heart skidded to a rupturing halt in my chest, as I too tried to stop. Marlowe’s words repeated briefly in my head. It’s a trap.
Asmodeus was hovering above, with Mary at his back. He had unfurled an elemental net, ready for my headlong attack. There was nothing I could do. Instead of trying to turn, I made the split decision to attempt to break through. Shooting streams of fire ahead of me I did my best to weaken the weave. As I struck, I realized I had made an error. The net was made from spirit. Fire would do nothing. Like a fly in a web, I was caught inside the sticky net that Asmodeus had waiting for me. I struggled to break free, but every turn I made only served to tangle me further. I let a wave of hatred escape from my mouth, but it was met with absorbing love that Asmodeus sent down to stop it.
“Now, now,” his voice splintered inside my brain. “You don’t want to hurt that wonderful body of yours.”
I saw him squeeze his fist, and the web around me constricted inward, holding me fast so I could barely breathe. His obedient Archangels each rose into view, surrounding me on all sides. Up close they were beautiful. They were almost painful to look at, like staring into the sun. Their eyes, however, had a cutting effect, like a shark’s: all black and unforgiving. They settled in the air around me, hovering around the net. Small burns from my attack were healing quickly on their wings. Asmodeus saw the frustration in my face at the situation. I rattled the bonds around me again, but it did nothing.
“You should know by now never to trust an Iscariot,” Asmodeus said. “Betrayal runs through their veins.”
