Sword's Blessing

by Kaitlin R. Branch

  “But... but how?” Giselle whispered. “We couldn’t figure out how you jumped from Canada to Nevada either.”

  “I’ve only got thirty-five thousand souls, but they’re thirty-five thousand willing souls.” Eli said, nodding to Samantha. “She figured it out. When you’ve got allies rather than prisoners you’re an awful lot better off.”

  Giselle drew a breath. “The souls you’ve reaped are allies? That’s... blasphemy!”

  “Not really.” Samantha shrugged. “They’re here of their free will. We keep them safe, allow them to interact within our own souls, talk to them once in a while, it works out.”

  Giselle covered her mouth, feeling ill and looking at Armand again. What would he say? Probably that it made sense, and as long as everyone was happy with the arrangement, there was nothing they could, or should do. Her heart rebelled. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! Souls of the passed were meant to go to heaven, hell, or reincarnation. Weren’t they? She held her tongue just long enough to let the indignation pass.

  “What if they aren’t willing?” she asked. “Aren’t there some in you that hate you? That you harvested wrongly?”

  Eli glanced at Samantha. “Sure there were. Most of Samantha’s souls were harvested by a Damned named Diego, and he wasn’t very nice. But they all know how much better they have it. There are some in me, about a thousand, who refuse to help me, but that number was much higher when we started. Samantha talked some of them around, some of them started out eager to help, and many others saw the good we were doing and came over of their own accord.”

  Giselle scrutinized him. “We’ve never heard of this.”

  “As far as we know, it’s the first time it’s been done.”

  There was a long pause as Giselle studied him, looking for deceit, or lies, or souls begging for release. But the longer she looked, the more she, shockingly, believed him. Samantha was the one to break the silence. “I’m not sure what Armand’s going to be like when he wakes up,” Samantha said, facing ahead into the lush green. “He’ll definitely wake, but I’ve never done such a thing on an Angel before.”

  “You’ve done it before at all?” Giselle pressed. “What was it like then?”

  “A few mortals caught in the crossfire,” Samantha murmured, “as far as I know they didn’t even remember Cyrene holding them hostage.”

  Giselle swallowed. “He might not remember the fight?” Maybe that was a good thing, maybe not. All in all she didn’t think it mattered so long as she had Armand back.

  Samantha took a breath. “I have no idea. Angels aren’t anything like the Damned and I have a hell of a lot more experience with them. Your souls are rigid but incredibly powerful. You’re young, right? And you stood up to Cyrene for a whole minute. Granted she was toying with you, but you still survived.” Samantha shook her head.

  Giselle caught her breath. Wasn’t Samantha only twenty five, maybe twenty six? How dare she talk to an Angel as if Giselle were the age her skin suggested? According to reports, she was older than Eli. “If you’re such an expert on the Damned, why get caught by Cyrene again?” she snapped.

  Samantha turned around and frowned at her. “Whoever ordered you to follow us was an idiot. Or trying to get one or both of you killed. Or they didn’t give a shit, they just wanted to see what would happen, whether we’d leave you for dead, or if Cyrene would eat you. Either way, Eli’s right, you weren’t sent with good intentions. Not only were you clearly not able to track us very well, you couldn’t stand up to Cyrene when she came along.” Samantha reached back, brushing Armand’s cheek. “But Cyrene is cruel, and I’ve been on the receiving end of her cruelty far too often to just let another bear the brunt of it.”

  Giselle gulped for air through her rage and indignation. How dare they imply the Fore had wanted this to happen, had sent them in with the intention of this happening. “You’re wrong,” she spat out. “It was our fault. We shouldn’t have followed you as closely as we did, and we should have taken better precautions.”

  Samantha turned. “If you say so. Eli, pull over at this rest stop so Armand can wake up comfortably.”

  “And not in a moving car driven by a Damned and an Inbetweener,” Eli confirmed cheerfully. “Great idea, babe.”

  Thankfully no one but a few crows and a squirrel was at the small stop. Eli laid Armand on one of the worn picnic tables. Samantha examined him for a moment, as Giselle tried her best not to hover. She tried not to glare at the Inbetweener woman, how could she not? There was no way her Fore would betray them like that. Sure, he’d never agreed with Gabriel’s decision to ascend them as a pair or showed much care for Armand but still trained them, practically raised them.

  Still, the possibility irked at her. If the Fore had truly sent them on this mission as a way to kill of one of them, they’d done it to get rid of Armand. There was no questioning that–it would always be Armand! She’d never lost her head enough to wade into a losing battle. She was lucky to be alive, lucky Samantha and Eli had interfered, lucky they had cared enough to get Armand back for her.

  She shook her head and reached up to push back her hair. “Armand, you idiot,” she whispered, swallowing. “Letting her get a hold of you.”

  Armand took a deep breath and turned his head, an arm slowly stretching up and back. Giselle jumped up, spreading her wings to shield his face from the sun. “Armand! Please wake up. Armand, please?”

  “M’wake,” he muttered, free arm rubbing at his eyes. Slowly his eyes opened, bright as ever, and Giselle held her breath as she watched him, wondering. What could she say? Thank you! How could you? Idiot!

  Armand frowned, blinking, rubbing his eyes again, and then opening his mouth.

  No. She could berate him later. “Do you need something?” she asked softly.

  He narrowed his eyes, half-sitting up and staring at her as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. Finally, he managed, “I’m fine…Ada?”

  He could have driven a stake through her heart and hurt her less. Giselle drew a breath, shivering, and felt her knees buckle, forcing her to sit down on the bench. “Armand?” she asked softly. “Armand, do you feel all right?”

  “I feel okay. But it’s Manas, remember?” He sat up. “Hey, where are we, anyway? Is there a bathroom around?”

  “Over there,” she held out a shaking finger. “…Manas.”

  “You okay?” he asked, leaning down. She swallowed, unable to look him in the eye, and nodded. “Be right back.”

  Giselle watched him go, gulping for air. Ada? Her mortal name? More than fifty years together and he could only remember her mortal name? She shivered in cold and wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to break down and cry. The hollow in her chest wouldn’t let her stay dry eyed. She pressed her hand to her lips, muffling a sob, only praying no one would see her like this.

  At first, her prayers were answered, and she grieved in private. Then a hand slid onto her shoulder and Samantha sat beside her. “I’m sorry, Giselle. I hoped I was wrong.”

  She gasped, refusing to look up at the woman. Which was worse? Armand dead or Armand there before her and remembering nothing but their long dead mortal names? “Wh–” she hiccupped. “What happened?”

  “I asked him what he remembered,” Samantha said. “He said he knew your name was Ada and you were a dear friend. He had no idea who we were, nor anything that had happened in his life.” She paused for a moment and then sighed. “Essentially, I think I reincarnated him, Giselle.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Memories of the life he had before–including you, ascendancy, his time as an Angel…they’re locked.” Samantha shook her head. “They can be retrieved, but it takes something life changing. Near death experience, becoming an Angel again, a deal with a Damned.”

  “Then he can make a deal with Eli!” Giselle sat up, looking over at Samantha finally. Her hair was in a knot on top of her head and she looked haggard, tired. “That will work, won’t it?”

 
Samantha shook her head. “Not unless Armand gives Eli his soul. And I’m not letting him do that.”

  “That’s it?” Giselle squeaked out. “He goes on his way and I’m supposed to leave him here?”

  “Is that what you want?” Samantha asked.

  “No!” Restless, Giselle shot up and began to pace, still shivering even in the hot southern sun filtering through the trees. “You don’t understand! Armand and I…we…” she gasped. “We were born together, we grew up together, we were imprisoned together, we ran away together, we died together and we ascended together! This…this is wrong! This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

  “Then I guess you’re coming with us?” Samantha asked. “You could also take him and run. I can guarantee you if you stick around we’ll get you in trouble with someone, if not Cyrene, then your own people. At the same time, having us around means having a lot more resources.”

  She stared for a moment, still shaking. Armand came out of the bathroom, talking animatedly with Eli, and for a jarring moment she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. To walk away now…“Yes. I’m coming. I can’t leave him.”

  * * * *

  Good grief this Angel girl was difficult to deal with. Samantha couldn’t exactly blame Giselle–with her loyalty split between the man she clearly loved and the cause she had ascended to, it was no wonder she was conflicted. Samantha opened her mouth to tell Giselle she thought coming along was the correct choice, but there was a faint tutting noise, and the air around them clicked and sparkled. Giselle stiffened, her wings folding flat against her back, gaze darting around in fear.

  “Giselle…Giselle…I am disappointed in you.” The booming voice echoed and smarted in Samantha’s ears, and she flinched as well, covering her ears and gritting her jaw against the headache. The souls in her cried out in awe and fear, only Diego and Marie standing firm in the onslaught of divine light. Samantha took a breath and forced herself up. No wonder Eli hadn’t been intimated by Giselle and Armand if this was what a Damned normally encountered!

  The Angel woman was floundering, gaze still darting around, looking up and down and around, but Samantha couldn’t see the Angel any more than Giselle could. The blonde woman threw an arm over her eyes and stood taller, crying to the sky. “I can’t leave him! Not again! Not like this!”

  “Leaving him was the entire point, my dear girl,” the Angel replied. Samantha flinched again, trying to make out where Eli and Armand had ended up in the sudden burst of light. There they were, pressed against the concrete of the restroom wall.

  Giselle dropped her arms, staring up now without wincing or squinting. Her entire demeanor changed, from cowering fear to disbelieving betrayal. “They were right? You meant for this to happen?”

  “You were meant to report the moment Cyrene killed him,” the Angel replied sharply. “However, we are willing to overlook the disregard of orders, Giselle, as there were intrusions.” The tone of his voice seemed to tilt in Samantha’s direction.

  She shrieked. “How dare you! You nearly killed Armand! As it is, he has no recollection of me or our lives!”

  “Exactly.” Its tone was disapproving. “Armand was too attached. It compromised his judgment. Had it been sound, he would have immediately reported rather than taking the two of you into battle or sacrificing himself for your sake. Again.”

  “You had no right!”

  Samantha couldn’t help but root for Giselle, even crouching away from the voice. This had to have been hell on the Angel woman.

  “We did.” The voice boomed. “I doubt he told you, Giselle, but both of you were aware of the rules the moment you ascended, and yet he still pursued a relationship with you.”

  “Of course he did! We were dear friends, and Gabriel knew that when he blessed our ascension.”

  The Angel sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, I cannot ask Gabriel what he was thinking. Surely you noticed how rare your bond was, Giselle. It caused problems.”

  “Not until you split us apart!”

  Now they were getting into territory Samantha didn’t understand. How in the world had the conversation turned from killing Armand to their original ascension?

  “We split you for your own good, Giselle. Armand well and truly stepped out of line that day, and even more afterward.”

  Giselle took a breath. “What are you talking about?” she growled. “What in all of heaven could he have done to make you think he’d lost so much value as to kill him!?”

  There was a moment of silence. Samantha was shocked to hear a bit of concern, a bit of sadness and gentle sympathy. “He asked–begged us–for leave to marry you, Giselle.” Samantha blinked. Marriage didn’t sound bad. She’d expected something like plotting against the Messiah. When she glanced over, Giselle looked stricken. The voice continued softly. “You know why we could not allow him that.”

  Giselle faltered, shivering and trying to take a step. Her knees gave out though, and Samantha rushed forward to support her, confused but unwilling to let the Angel fall. “Yes,” Giselle strained out. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Mind telling me?” Samantha asked, frowning. “Come on, he loves her, she loves him, what’s the issue?”

  “This is a heavenly affair,” the voice growled. “We appreciate your assistance of our daughter–”

  “But not your son,” Samantha chided. “Not the man who loved your daughter enough to risk your wrath? How could you!”

  “You do not understand, Inbetweener. Giselle. It’s time to go. Armand will be fine with his new body and the healing this Inbetweener has wrought.” He said the word with a faint bit of distaste, as if Samantha’s status was a bad taste in his mouth. “Come into the light and be welcome.” Samantha stared down. Would Giselle do it?

  * * * *

  Giselle swallowed, standing up. The Angel looked at her, then Eli. She stared at Armand, who looked terrified for her sake, completely uncomprehending that all of this was about him, his choices, his plea. How could she not have realized? It made perfect sense–the moment he’d saved her, the moment he told her they were to be separated. He said it was because of his saving her, but that had nothing to do with it. He had asked to marry her!

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered. “Why?”

  Armand didn’t understand. “Ada, if you have to go, it’s okay.” He pressed against the concrete, smiling at her. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you…you must have more important things to do.”

  “Mortality suits him.” The Fore muttered. “Gives him some sense.”

  Giselle hissed through her teeth. If the Fore was trying to placate her, he was doing a terrible job. “Sorry, Armand. Nothing’s more important than you.” She turned and faced the light. “I’m not going.”

  “Giselle, don’t be a fool! He knew what he was walking in to. We as good as warned him. He said you would always take precedence, we might as well do as we would!”

  How dare they use excuses with her? “What were you thinking?” Giselle turned on the light and drew her sword. “He is Armand! We withstood the Damned Karthier together, we ascended together, and we destroyed Karthier together. We are a bonded pair and nothing–not death, separation, nor reincarnation–can change that!” Her path was clear, simple. Only an hour ago she would have cowered at the thought. Now her anger buoyed her courage. She pointed her sword to the light. “If you wish to break us apart, then I shall seek my own fortune.”

  “Giselle, do not–”

  Ice doused her heart at the plea. What did they think she was going to do? What choice did they leave her? How could they believe she would abandon Armand and forgive all? The words came easily.

  “I renounce my call to your heaven,” she spoke, letting every word fall clear of her lips before going on. “This sword was blessed by Gabriel with a twin. As you have cut your ties to him, I will cut my ties to you.”

  The sword’s light gathered, intensified, so bright Samantha and Eli averted their eyes. But not her. She stared beyond it
, daring the Fore, daring those she had trusted, admired even, to strike her down when they knew they had tricked her; both of them.

  They did not. The sword’s light wavered, keening, almost begging her not to speak again, break its power. She steeled herself. The blade could shatter, splinter, even disintegrate in her hands. All of these were rumored if an Angel put aside their duty, but this was not about the blade. It was about Armand. “I renounce the power of Heaven. My place is beside Armand.”

  To her surprise, the sword did not break. It merely dulled, the light seeping down the hilt and away, metal and nothing more.

  When the Fore spoke, it was nearly regretful. “Oh, Giselle…”

  She looked up, sneering. “You brought this on us all. Be gone!”

  “You will become the morning star, Giselle,” The Fore’s voice was urgent, but grew softer even in panic. “You swore. You remember the litany, do you not?”

  “Of course I remember it.” Giselle said, lowering her sword again as the crackling tension in the air faded. Her heart was heavy, chest hollow with horror and confusion. They had tried to kill Armand. They had broken them apart, and then had the gall to call her back to their cause. How dare they hurt him! “Lucifer has his own selfish ends. My ends are for another.” She turned, seeking Armand’s face, his eyes.

  He was staring at her, and for a thrilling moment, she thought maybe he had remembered, he would stop calling her Ada, and come to kiss her for the first time as a man kissed a woman, and not as a child kisses their friend.

  He blinked and grinned. “That was pretty crazy. Are you okay, Ada?”

  She swallowed hard. Her heart was like pieces of sand filtering through her fingers now. She took a breath. He was well, and she still did not feel the regret of an action wrongly taken. “I’m fine,” she managed. “Let’s get going.”

  * * * *

  Thankfully, Samantha fielded most of Armand’s questions as they got into the car. Who they were, where they were going, how he got there. She glanced at Giselle often, as if asking if she wished to chime in, but she couldn’t. Every time she tried her throat closed up in dismay. Why couldn’t he remember?