The City of Flame and Shadow

by Kim Richardson

“You see,” began Sabrielle as she looked over her shoulder again and then lowered her voice, “the sword is kept in a very special place—”

  “Here it comes,” said Milo, impatiently.

  “A place where no one would expect to find such a weapon,” said the archangel, her smile spreading. “A place hidden from the rest of the world, a place of secrets.”

  Alexa raised her brows. “Okay… but you said you knew where it was, right?”

  “Of course I know, dear girl,” said Sabrielle, looking increasingly incredulous.

  “Well? Where is it? Is it hidden somewhere in Horizon?”

  “Of course not!” snapped Sabrielle, her smile turning vicious. But then she composed herself quickly and added, “Of course not, silly girl. It wouldn’t be hidden here for all eyes to see.”

  Alexa’s annoyance grew. “Then where?”

  “Purgatory.”

  Ten seconds of silence followed these words before Sabrielle clapped a jeweled hand over her mouth as though she had let slip a naughty swear word.

  Milo was ogling the archangel like she was insane. His hands fell to his sides, clamped into fists, and Alexa wasn’t sure if he was about to punch Sabrielle.

  Alexa studied the archangel’s painted face for any signs that she was joking. She could see none, only the familiar, strange gleam in Sabrielle’s eyes whenever she looked at Milo’s mark on his neck. It was unsettling.

  “Purgatory,” repeated Alexa, keeping her voice low. A feeling of cold dread unfurled in the pit of her core.

  Sabrielle’s face was quite blank. For a moment, Alexa thought Sabrielle was going to scream at her since she was staring without blinking. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, “That’s what I said, dear.”

  “Purgatory,” said Alexa to herself in a half whisper, and then more loudly, “It exists? I thought I was just a story to scare people.”

  “I assure you, it is very real.” Sabrielle carefully placed a lock of golden hair back up into her hat. “As real as you and me, my dear.”

  Alexa looked at Milo. “Did you know about this?”

  “That purgatory exists?” said Milo casually. “Yes. I knew it existed.”

  “And you never thought of mentioning it to me?” demanded Alexa. “How am I supposed to get better as a guardian if you keep things from me?”

  Milo scowled, the muscles in his jaw contracting. “Didn’t think it was worth mentioning, fledgling, since it’s not exactly in our area of work.”

  They both glared at each other until Alexa looked at Sabrielle and said, “Why didn’t Ariel or Metatron tell us about this? If there’s a weapon that can destroy Hades, why aren’t there more angels going after this bone sword thing?”

  “Because, dearest,” answered Sabrielle in a voice as sweet as candy. “They know there’s a chance that you might not return.”

  Alexa stared at the archangel. “But we can return, right?”

  Sabrielle puffed out her skirts. “Of course. I wouldn’t be telling you this if you couldn’t. You can return… you must return and, with the sword, no less. It’s the entire point of this assignment. You must go to purgatory and retrieve the bone sword.”

  Alexa sighed loudly. “Okay then. I think that settles it, we’re going—”

  Milo grabbed Alexa’s arm. “Alexa, don’t.”

  “Don’t?” She wiggled out of his grip. “Since when do you give me orders?”

  Milo looked at her with raised brows, and she could see the words in his eyes as clearly as if he’d spoken them: Don’t, Alexa. Please.

  “I’m your petty officer,” he said finally. “And I’m not ordering but asking you not to go through with this. Purgatory isn’t what you think it is… it’s not like walking into the mortal world or taking an elevator through Horizon. It’s a different dimension, a different reality, filled with the most vile and corrupted things. There are worse things than demons… things that you can’t possibly imagine in your worst nightmares… and they live in purgatory. You don’t want to go there.”

  “I don’t care,” she hissed. “I’m doing this. With or without you. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? This whole mess is my fault. Either I do something about it, or I just give up. I won’t give up, not when there’s a chance I can fix this. If you don’t want to come, that’s your choice, but I’m going and you can’t stop me.” She glared at him defiantly, but Milo only stood there with a blank expression.

  After realizing Milo wasn’t going to retort, she looked at Sabrielle and said, “So, how do I get there?”

  “Good, now you’re asking the right questions,” said Sabrielle, smiling brightly. For a moment her smile turned almost feral.

  “How do I get to purgatory from here?” Alexa asked again, her nerves prickling along her skin.

  “There is only one way to get into purgatory,” said Sabrielle, “and that’s through fire and ash.”

  CHAPTER 16

  A FULL MOON SHONE FROM ABOVE, illuminating the narrow, cobbled walkway in hues of silver and blue. But it did nothing to quell the chill that scraped Alexa’s spine.

  She could smell moist earth and the smoke of a chimney fire. A light, chilly breeze ruffled her hair as she looked up at the moonlit and star-strewn sky. She stood in the middle of a cemetery with row upon row of gray headstones rising over a small hill and disappearing into the distance. The sprawling metropolis of the dead was separated by cobblestones and tree-lined walkways.

  A dog barked in the distance, slowly at first, but then louder and more agitated. It seemed the dog was warning Alexa. She peered again across the cemetery. Leafless oak trees stood like giant scarecrows against the backdrop.

  The dog kept barking, and then she heard a distant growl.

  “Where are we?” Alexa inquired. “It’s cold, but there’s no snow. We’re definitely not back in New York. Are we?” She turned to Milo, who’d been quiet since their departure from Horizon, but the archangel Sabrielle answered instead.

  “This is the Pere Lachaise Cemetery, in Paris, France,” she said.

  “Paris?” Alexa looked around. Now that Sabrielle mentioned it, she could read the French inscriptions on the nearest headstone. A metal marker identified, Jean-François Bernard, a veteran of the second World War.

  “So, the entrance to purgatory is in this cemetery? In Paris?”

  “What?” said Sabrielle as she adjusted the lace on her sleeve. “Oh, no. Any good old cemetery will do. I just thought this place best matched my outfit.”

  Alexa raised her eyebrows at this. She looked at Milo, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Instead he was fixated on the archangel with a deep frown on his face.

  In silence, Alexa and Milo followed Sabrielle down a narrow cobblestone pathway. She stopped at a large stone sculpture of an angel holding a dying mortal woman in his arms. The mouth of the mortal was gaped wide in a silent scream. When Alexa stepped closer, she could see tears on the angel’s face, as though the angel was pained by the mortal’s suffering. The sculpture was raised above a tombstone. Alexa could only make out what looked like a capital S and M, but the rest of the inscription was worn off.

  Sabrielle moved quickly, despite her large skirts. With little effort, she pushed the statue cleanly off the tombstone. The statue toppled over in one piece and revealed a deep, rectangular grave below.

  Slowly Alexa approached the edge of it and peered inside. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the sight of the remains of a body covered in gray ashes wasn’t it. A bundle of clothes lay at the bottom, covered in dust, ashes, a skull. Some bones peeked from the many holes in the clothes. The body was male, Alexa thought, judging from the suit it wore and the size, but there was barely enough bone to make out anything.

  Sabrielle had a strange gleam in her eyes, almost like she was enjoying desecrating some poor mortal’s grave. When she cast a gaze at Milo, his features were tight, like he was in pain, reminiscent of that angel statue. He had drawn one of his swords, and it
glowed in the darkness, casting a soft light over the ruins like a flashlight.

  “Whose grave is this?” It was the first time Milo had spoken since they took the leap back to the mortal world.

  “It’s not important whose grave this is,” said Sabrielle, waving a hand dismissively. “What’s important is what’s inside the grave.”

  Again, Alexa looked over at Milo, and still he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her creepy feeling intensified tenfold at the sound of pleasure in the archangel’s voice and at the strangely unfocused look on her face.

  Sabrielle reached inside her corset and pulled out a lighter and a small, flat, plastic bottle the size of her palm.

  “From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall rise,” said the archangel with a feverish expression on her face as she squeezed the bottle, spraying a transparent gel-like substance over the ashes. “Renewed shall be the doorway that was broken, a gateway to the city of flame and shadow.”

  With a flick, a flame rose from the lighter in Sabrielle’s hand, and then she tossed it down into the grave.

  Tall white flames rose, sending a wave of heat over Alexa’s face. The darkness was suddenly lifted by the light of the flames as they were bathed in bright light. But then Alexa noticed something strange—the fire was odorless.

  “Now, if you will, before the fire burns out,” said Sabrielle as she tossed the bottle on the ground. “You must step into the flames. Only then can you enter purgatory.”

  “Right, step into the fire,” said Alexa. Her voice sounded feeble, not as strong and convincing as she would have hoped. She raised her hands towards the flames and felt the heat singe the skin of her M-suit. “Will it burn?”

  “It’s fire. Of course it burns,” said the archangel. “But it will only last a moment.”

  “And you know this from experience?” inquired Alexa.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, dear.” Sabrielle raised her brows. “Do you want to find the sword or not?”

  “Yes,” said Alexa, frowning and trying hard not to lose her temper.

  The archangel gazed at Alexa for a moment and then said, “There’s one more thing you should know.” She plunged her hand into her bustier and pulled out a wrist watch. “Take this and put in on,” she said as she handed it to Alexa.

  Alexa grabbed the watch and examined it. It was made of gold and delicate with the word Cartier inscribed elegantly behind the glass.

  “Why do I need a watch?” she asked.

  Sabrielle waited until Alexa had fixed the watch around her wrist before she answered, “Your bodies, your angel bodies, cannot survive the toxic air that is purgatory—not in that kind of environment. Your bodies weren’t designed for that, or for travel to that realm. Although you can enter purgatory, you cannot stay there indefinitely. If you stay too long, your bodies will eventually disintegrate.”

  Alexa looked at Sabrielle. “Disintegrate?”

  “That’s what I said. It will happen if you don’t return before your hours are up,” said Sabrielle, as though explaining the obvious. “And there’s something else you should know.”

  “There’s more?” said Alexa, dread flooding her at the sound of those words.

  “Yes,” said the archangel. “If you can’t cross back into our world before your hours are up, your body will erase itself… but your soul will remain trapped in purgatory,” she paused as though adding a more dramatic effect, “forever.”

  “This keeps on getting better and better,” snapped Alexa, anger bubbling inside her. “You didn’t think of mentioning this before? It would have been nice to get all the facts before I’d made my decision.”

  “Would it have changed your mind?” asked Sabrielle. “Would you have passed on the chance at defeating the pagan god because of a mere technicality?”

  “No, it’s more than that,” said Alexa. “It’s almost as though…” as though you didn’t tell us on purpose, she thought.

  “You’ve been warned,” said Sabrielle, her teeth sparkling in the light of the fire. “Now, don’t look so glum. There’s no reason at all why you can’t be there and back in time. I’ve heard all about your special talents. I know what you can do. I have faith in you, Alexa, and in you as well, Milo. If any team of angels could pull this off—it’s the two of you. The High Council wouldn’t have asked it of you if they didn’t believe, as do I, that you will succeed. Still, I was obligated to reveal this information… just in case.”

  Alexa was feeling the pressure rise in her, around her face and neck, as though someone was choking her. “Just in case,” she mumbled more to herself as she stared at the watch, trying to suppress the nausea that rose in her throat.

  “How long do we have?” asked Milo, looking more and more as though he was regretting his decision to come along.

  “No more than four hours. Perhaps you can push it to four and a half—or even five, but I don’t recommend it.”

  Alexa didn’t know how the archangel knew this if she hadn’t gone in herself.

  “Where do we find the sword?” she asked.

  Sabrielle stared at the fire, an impatient look crossed her face. “You’ll find it. Don’t worry. It’s there.”

  Alexa frowned. “Okay… but what does it look like?”

  “A sword.”

  “Yes, I know that,” said Alexa annoyed, “but how do we recognize it? Does it have a jeweled handle or markings on the blade that we can recognize? I’d hate to bring back the wrong weapon, especially when I have a feeling this will be our one and only trip to purgatory. How can we tell it’s the bone sword and not just some random sword?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it, dear,” said the archangel in a voice like she was addressing a young child. “It’s the only one of its kind. Trust me, you will know the bone sword when you see it.”

  Alexa looked over to Milo for some help, but the warrior angel just stood there, staring at the fire with a look of foreboding across his face.

  Alexa sighed loudly. “This is just great. We’re going on an assignment, from which we might never return, to find the only weapon that can kill Hades, but we don’t know where to look or what the sword looks like. I’d say the odds are really in our favor.”

  She certainly wasn’t reassured. She’d hoped for a little more information before plunging into the unknown. Although she knew the fire wasn’t a normal fire, the heat of the flames made her hesitate. It felt real enough. She glanced over and saw that Milo had noticed her hesitation. She pushed away her fears and took a step forward—

  “Wait.” Milo moved next to her, so close she could see the flames reflected in his eyes. “We don’t have to do this. You can still back down—”

  “Not if you want to destroy Hades,” said Sabrielle. Her face was half in shadow, making her look old and ugly for the first time. “This is the only way,” she pressed.

  Alexa stared at the flames. “Sabrielle’s right. I have to do this if I want to get rid of Hades.” She looked at Milo, her chest tightening. “I have to do this, but I won’t force you to come with me if you don’t want to—”

  “I’m coming with you,” said the angel. “I’d never let you go on your own… especially not in that place,” he said, staring at the flames. “You need me. Besides, you don’t know what’s on the other side.”

  “And you do?” Alexa studied his face. His finely carved features seemed somehow rougher and his expression harsh.

  “I’ve heard stories of the creatures and the tormented souls that roam in purgatory,” said Milo, “stories because I don’t know of any angel that has ever traveled to and back from that realm. I know nothing good can come from this.”

  “Except the weapon that can defeat the pagan god,” said Sabrielle, with a tantalizing smile. “I think we can agree, defeating Hades is good for both our worlds—the mortals and ours. Yes?”

  But Milo was staring at Alexa. “What if we don’t make it back? Have you thought about that?”

  “Of c
ourse I have,” lied Alexa, surprised at how easy the lie came out. “And I’m willing to accept that chance—but I know we will. We will,” she added with more conviction. “I have to try, Milo. Don’t you understand? I can’t not try. I have to do this.”

  Alexa traced the warrior’s face with her eyes. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, to thank him for coming along with her. Having him on this journey was a comfort, and she knew she needed him.

  “I know,” said the angel after a moment. “Then we do it together.”

  Alexa was surprised that he offered his hand, but she took it without hesitation, feeling the rough calluses of his palm as he squeezed her hand firmly. She felt the moment was a little too personal to have Sabrielle as an audience. Warmth spread over Alexa’s face that wasn’t from the fire.

  “On three,” said Milo, his voice surprisingly gentle as he turned towards the grave, “we jump in together.”

  “On three,” repeated Alexa. She tore her eyes away from him to look at the dancing white flames.

  “One…” said Milo, clasping her hand a little tighter, “two…”

  “This will change everything,” said Sabrielle, who was staring at the flames, “everything…”

  Just when Alexa opened her mouth to ask the archangel what she meant, Milo pulled Alexa with him in the air towards the white flames.

  “Three!”

  The last thing Alexa saw was the gleeful gleam in the archangel’s eyes before she hit the flames and was surrounded in white light.

  CHAPTER 17

  ALEXA PLUNGED FACE-FIRST INTO THE WHITE FLAMES. She felt her feet leave the ground, and then she was falling, falling through whirling whiteness before darkness slammed into her vision, blocking everything else out.

  Alexa felt her hand begin to twist away from Milo and redoubled her grip. When she’d opened her eyes, her eyeballs were being forced back into her head. She still couldn’t see Milo, only endless blackness. But she still felt the strength of his grip and tightened her fingers in his. She tried to say his name, but her lips were like cement blocks and she couldn’t pry them apart.