Black Night

by Christina Henry

  I blasted his hand where it gripped my ankle but he held on tight. It was as if he’d been programmed to destroy me and he was not going to stop. Ever. He dragged me down and began to hit me in the face with the same steady determination that he had used the first time we’d met.

  It is very hard to strategize when you are being pummeled to death. But I had a flash of wrapping Antares in a rope of nightfire.

  I called up all my strength, all my will, all the power that had helped me survive the Maze. The clearing was suddenly lit with a blaze of sunlight, and I knew that it came from me.

  A sinuous strand of nightfire curled out of my palm and wrapped around Samiel’s arms. It whirled around him until he was bound completely from neck to midthigh. He fell to the ground and so did I, my eyes momentarily blinded from sweat and blood, and my head dizzy.

  After a minute I was able to get up, collect the sword, and stagger over to Samiel. He sat on the ground wrapped in the nightfire rope, and his face was furious.

  I knew that if I killed him, Lucifer would be pissed at me. Amarantha was right—Lucifer was fanatical about his bloodline. But if I didn’t kill Samiel, he would just keep coming after me until he succeeded in pounding me to a pulp.

  I raised the sword, intending to cut his head off. He watched me, not flinching, not making any attempt to save his own life. He was angry that he had lost, but there was also something resigned in his face.

  That resignation made me stop, made me lower the sword to the ground.

  Samiel shook his head at me, and he seemed angrier still that I had halted his execution. “Ed-by.”

  “Ed-by?” I said. “What is that, some kind of demon curse?”

  “Ed-by!” he shouted. “Ed-by, ed-by, ed-by, ed-by!”

  Something in the rhythm of his words reminded me of the vision I’d had of him and Focalor in the Forbidden Lands. Ed-by. Enemy.

  “Enemy?” I repeated and as I looked at him all the pieces clicked together.

  Samiel’s total silence in the face of pain. The grunting and gesturing he’d used to communicate with Focalor. The strange pronunciation of “enemy.”

  Samiel couldn’t hear.

  “Ed-by!” he shouted, and his green eyes were filled with furious tears that ran down his face. “Ed-by! ED-BY!”

  I backed away, shaking my head. Suddenly he didn’t seem like first cousin to the Terminator. He seemed like a lost and broken child. He’d come after me because he had seen me harm his mother, and now that I wouldn’t fight him he had nothing left.

  I sat down on a rock and covered my face with my right hand. What the hell was I going to do with him? He was an abused kid who’d been raised by two psychopaths. I couldn’t kill him, no matter what he had done to me and mine.

  My hand still bled, although the flow seemed to be slowing a bit. I held Lucifer’s sword to the stumps and they cauterized as my wounds had in the Maze. And yes, it hurt like hell and there was a lot of yelling involved.

  I ignored Samiel for a moment and crossed the clearing to Gabriel. He still breathed, although it was so slow and shallow that I wasn’t sure how long he would last. I broke the arrow in half and pulled it from his body, grateful that Gabriel was out cold. Then I used the sword to seal the wounds, and turned back to Samiel.

  He was rocking in the center of the clearing, his legs straight in front of him like a child’s. He kept repeating “ed-by” over and over again.

  I knelt in front of him and put my hands under his chin so he would look up at me. He yanked his face away from my touch and I dropped my hands.

  “I am not your enemy,” I said slowly and clearly. I’d seen him communicate with Focalor in the Forbidden Lands, so I assumed that he could read lips.

  “Ed-by,” he repeated stubbornly.

  I shook my head. “Not your enemy.”

  “Ed-by!” he shouted.

  I held up my hand to show him my missing fingers. “I have paid a blood price for harming your mother. Our quarrel is over.”

  He stopped shouting at me and looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. He clearly understood me if I spoke carefully.

  “Dead,” he said, although it was a struggle for him.

  “I did not kill your mother,” I said. “Ramuell killed her.”

  This was true. I had fought Ariell to a standstill, but Ramuell had eaten her.

  His eyes filled with tears again. “Dead.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But I am not your enemy.”

  He hung his head, and tears dripped off his face. I hated to keep him wrapped in the nightfire rope. It had to be causing him horrible pain even if he didn’t express it.

  I released the spell that held the rope together, and suddenly Samiel was free. He looked up at me in astonishment.

  I stayed crouched where I was, only a few inches away. I was taking a terrible chance. If I hadn’t gotten through to him, he would probably descend on me before I was able to respond.

  “I am not your enemy,” I repeated again.

  Then I put my hand over my heart, and reached my broken hand toward his chest. He went as still as a deer that hears a wolf in the forest. I covered his heart with my hand.

  “Friend,” I said.

  He looked down at my hand on his chest, the one that was missing two fingers, then up at me. His gaze was still suspicious.

  “Friend,” I said again.

  He closed his hand around mine, and I was struck anew by his overwhelming strength. I think he meant to be gentle but he was crushing my remaining fingers in a death grip.

  I nodded, trying not to show how much he was hurting me. If I yanked my hand away, he might change his mind and decide to attack.

  He gave my fingers a final squeeze, and then let go. I exhaled the breath that I had been holding and stood up. Samiel stood up, too, looking lost.

  “Do you know the way to Amarantha’s castle?” I asked him.

  He looked puzzled.

  “Faerie castle?” I tried again. There was no reason for him to know the queen’s name.

  His face cleared and he nodded.

  I gestured toward Gabriel. “Can you carry your brother?”

  Samiel glanced at Gabriel in surprise, then back at me. I knew what he was asking.

  “Same father,” I said. “Ramuell.”

  Samiel closed his eyes, and it seemed that he was not reliving happy familial memories. I could only imagine what it must have been like for him, growing up in the Forbidden Lands with an insane angel for a mother and a murderous nephilim for a father.

  Then he opened his eyes again, and gently lifted Gabriel into his arms. There was a heartbreaking tenderness on his face.

  He smiled for the first time, and it was like seeing the first blossoms of spring after a long winter.

  “Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” I said.

  That was when Beezle flapped into the clearing, looking completely exhausted. Samiel tightened his grip on Gabriel and stood in front of me, as if to protect me.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and made sure he was looking at my face. “It’s okay. Beezle’s a friend.”

  Samiel looked doubtful, but he stepped aside.

  Beezle landed on a tree branch, looking super grouchy. “What in the four hells has been taking you so long? I’ve been looking for the stupid Maze for the last two days.”

  “Two days?” I said. I hadn’t realized that much time had passed. “What were you doing looking for me, anyway? I thought you’d given me up as a lost cause.”

  “Don’t be a dork, Maddy,” Beezle scoffed, grooming one of his wings and studiously avoiding my eyes. “I’ve never given up on you yet.”

  I blinked and felt a tear rolling down my cheek. Beezle looked up and frowned.

  “Well, don’t get all sappy about it, all right? I’m here now, we’re reunited, I knew you would succeed, yay. And who’s the big fella holding on to Gabriel?”

  “Samiel,” I said.

  He crinkled his forehea
d. “The son of Ramuell and Ariell?”

  I nodded.

  “The one who tried to kill you?”

  “Twice,” I said.

  “Is there a reason why he’s walking along next to you like he’s out for a Sunday stroll?”

  “He’s coming home with us,” I said. I wondered what Lucifer would think of that.

  “What are we, some kind of halfway house for nephilim children?” Beezle said. “I hope he doesn’t like popcorn, because I’m not sharing any of mine.”

  I smiled at Beezle as he settled on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. There will be enough popcorn for everyone, especially you.”

  He glanced down at my left hand, the cauterized and bloody remains of my last two fingers. “I thought you told me you’d come back in one piece.”

  “I’ve still got all the pieces that matter,” I said.

  “Let’s go shock the hell out of Amarantha,” he said, shifting around to make himself more comfortable. “Wake me up when we get there.”

  17

  TO SAY THAT WE CAUSED A STIR WHEN WE ENTERED the throne room would be an understatement. I threw the doors open and strode ahead of Samiel. I must have been a sight to see—my torn clothes, my missing fingers, my face swollen and blackened from Samiel’s punches, and trailing behind me a strange half angel carrying Gabriel.

  Amarantha was perched on the edge of her throne when we entered. Focalor sat beside her on a low stool, and he had obviously just said something to make her laugh when I entered. When she saw us, the smile faded from her face. Focalor blinked at me in surprise.

  I came to a stop before them, the assembled courtiers whispering all around us. Samiel sidled up to me and pressed his arm against mine. I could tell that the crowd made him nervous and I gave him a reassuring little shoulder bump.

  Amarantha and Focalor stared at me.

  “Surprised to see me?” I asked.

  “How did you survive the Maze?” Focalor asked, standing. “Where is Antares?”

  “Antares is in the cage that used to hold Gabriel,” I said. “And I’ll be calling Azazel ASAP to pick up his wayward son, so if I were you, I would clear out of here before he arrives. You’ll probably want to pick the time and place for your groveling.”

  Focalor came down the stairs toward me, and I actually could see steam emitting from his nostrils. I wondered vaguely if he could breathe fire. His breath stank of brimstone and I could feel heat emanating from his body. It was like standing too close to a furnace.

  “I will not grovel to Azazel or anyone else. If you survived the Maze, then it was by trickery. Queen Amarantha assured me that no human could possibly withstand its powers.”

  I raised my eyebrow at Amarantha, who actually cringed. “Did she, now? I’d hate to think that the queen purposely sent me into the Maze with the intention of killing me by proxy.”

  “Of course I did not,” she said regally, but there was fear in her eyes. “You agreed to the terms of the contest, just as did Antares.”

  “But you had no intention of actually negotiating with Lucifer even if I did win. It seems that while I was away you and Focalor have gotten quite close.”

  “It is my right to do as I please in my own court,” she snapped.

  “And it is my right as ambassador to Lucifer to call you false, to say that you have conspired against him and me from the beginning, that you have attempted to sow discord in my party using magic, that you have committed grievous offense by hosting Focalor under his own banner and accepting, even temporarily, a thrall of Azazel’s as your own prize. To say nothing of your other intentions,” I said, and let that hang unsaid between us for a minute. I didn’t want her to think I’d forgotten about her plan to have a child of Lucifer’s bloodline.

  She stood from her throne, her face pinched and white. “You will not speak to me thus in my own court.”

  I shouldered Focalor aside and strode up to her. “I will do as I please. You have broken the laws of etiquette of your own kingdom, you have risked the safety of humanity on a war for your own pleasures, and you have deliberately tried to murder me. Lucifer is not going to buy that you were a neutral party in all of this. He’s going to hold you responsible for encouraging Focalor.”

  “I do not fear Lucifer,” she said through her teeth.

  “You should,” I said softly. “If you don’t, then you’re dumber than I thought.”

  “Leave this court, Ambassador. You are no longer welcome here,” she said angrily.

  “Gladly,” I said and turned on my heel. Then I turned back. “Almost forgot.”

  I slapped her across the face.

  “How dare you,” she said, her face livid.

  “I dare because your actions have betrayed you as a selfish, spoiled brat with no thought other than that of your own desires.”

  “We will have a score to settle, Madeline Black,” Amarantha hissed.

  “Bring it on, bitch. There isn’t anything you have that I haven’t seen before.”

  Then I turned away from her and strode toward the doors.

  The court was deathly quiet as I walked out, Samiel still carrying Gabriel and glued to my side. As I reached the doors, I suddenly heard the sound of applause.

  I turned back to see Wade grinning at me and clapping his hands. He winked when I acknowledged him, and I gave him a little bow.

  Then I walked out of Amarantha’s court, hopefully forever.

  As soon as the doors closed behind me, I felt my body slump.

  “You can’t collapse yet,” Beezle whispered. “Wait until you’re alone.”

  “Right,” I said, struggling to stay on my feet. “Too bad I don’t know how to get back to our room.”

  “I can help with that,” J.B. said from behind us.

  It didn’t hit me until I saw him how scared I had been in the Maze, or how happy I was to be alive and not insane. It didn’t hit me until I saw his face, so reassuringly normal, and the relief that was evident there.

  I threw my arms around him and pressed my face into his neck.

  “Well, hey, there,” J.B. said.

  I didn’t say a thing, just held on tight.

  “I’m glad you’re alive,” he whispered.

  “Me, too,” I said, swallowing so that I wouldn’t cry into his neck. I knew that eyes were still watching us, even if I couldn’t see them. I spoke softly into his ear, so that only he could hear. “Would you just hold on to my arm for a little while? I feel dizzy all of a sudden.”

  “That won’t be a hardship,” he said, and then he looked at Samiel. “Who’s the new guy?”

  I sighed. “Samiel.”

  His eyebrows winged up. “Samiel, who tried . . .”

  “To kill me, yes, but it was all a misunderstanding and it’s okay now, so can you just get me somewhere I can sit down?” I said.

  “I’m so glad that you’re still you,” J.B. said dryly, and helped me to my room.

  As soon as I entered my room, the connecting door swung open. Nathaniel stood there, looking utterly amazed. Then he seemed to collect himself.

  “I don’t know why I am constantly surprised by you when all you ever do is exceed expectations,” he said.

  He seemed like he’d healed up a little more in the past two days. I was still angry with him, even though I knew that at least part of what happened had been a spell of Amarantha’s. But that jealousy and anger had already been inside him, even if he would never have acted upon it.

  And it was hard to look at him without thinking of what happened in the Maze. Still, I owed him a debt for giving me the sword.

  “Thank you for the gift,” I said sincerely. “I wouldn’t have survived without it.”

  “I am glad that you did survive. Although I see that you left something of yourself behind,” he said, indicating my hand.

  “Oh, that wasn’t the Maze. That was something else,” I said, not wanting to get into it. Somehow I had a feeling that all the men in the room would think worse of Samiel if
they knew he had chopped off two of my fingers. “Listen, are you strong enough to heal Gabriel? He’s in a pretty bad way.”

  Nathaniel looked like the request did not thrill him, but he did as I asked. He seemed different now, somehow humbled. I wondered if it would take or if he would go back to being a pain in my butt once he returned to Azazel’s court.

  I desperately wanted to sit down, to rest, but I needed to get out of Amarantha’s court more than I needed sleep. I asked J.B. to get us a car while I packed up.

  Nathaniel managed to produce some clothing for Gabriel and Samiel to wear, since they were both clad in nothing but a strip of cloth across their privates.

  Samiel seemed bewildered by the mechanics of putting a shirt on over his wings, and Nathaniel was oddly patient while he showed Samiel how to fold his wings through the openings in the back. Samiel was built on a wider, more muscular scale than Nathaniel so the clothing strained at the seams.

  Fifteen minutes later all of us, including J.B., were squished in a car with Amarantha’s half-troll driver. I didn’t ask why J.B. was leaving with us when it was his mother’s court and she could probably use his support. I understood wanting to get away from a parent. It was exactly how I felt whenever Azazel was around.

  I could tell that they all wanted to ask me what had happened in the Maze. Five pairs of eyes looked at me expectantly, but now that we were finally seeing the back of Amarantha and the stupid faerie court I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

  “Will someone call Azazel and tell him where to find Antares?” I mumbled, and then I went out.

  The next thing I knew Gabriel lifted me from the car. The night air was cold, and I shivered as it touched my skin. I was still wearing a sleeveless shirt and cutoff pants—not exactly appropriate for winter in Chicago.

  Samiel and Beezle got out with us, and I indicated to Gabriel that he should put me down. I stuck my head inside the open car door and saw J.B. and Nathaniel glaring at each other. Nathaniel’s face was bruised and both eyes blackened.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Nothing for you to be concerned with,” Nathaniel said curtly. “I will speak with you soon, Madeline.”