Between Heaven and Hell

by David Burnett

  It would have been kinder to kill them in the quadrangle. Adryel supposed if they died on the prairie, then Michael’s hands would appear clean.

  A guard handed her a flask.

  “Water,” he said. “Lord Michael ordered each of you be given water.” A look of disgust crossed his face as Adryel sniffed at the water to tell if it was tainted.

  As she stepped through the gate, she almost knocked over one of the students who had arrived on the first wagon. He and the others milled about, aimlessly, appearing unsure what they should do next.

  Dariel stood nearby, his hand bandaged where she had bitten him, and Adryel approached him.

  “Where are we to go, Dariel?” She wanted to ask about Ramael, whether he had known she was the one to hurl the rock at him, whether he suffered, whether he had asked for her as he lay dying, but she didn’t, afraid to hear what he might tell her. “What are we to do?”

  “Go where you want,” he growled. “Do what you want. . .Don’t return to the city.”

  He paused, his eyes trained on something in the distance. “If you want to follow your hero,” he snickered, “he’s there.” He pointed to a set of black dots, far across the plain. “We suppose they’re headed for the mountains.”

  The mountains were small lumps on the horizon, but Adryel knew they were massive, impossible to climb, cut by a single pass. Beyond the mountains, though, she would find food and water and other settlements of angels, angels who would not yet have heard she had been expelled from the city.

  “How long will it take to reach the mountains?”

  Dariel shrugged. “They have been walking for two days and they’re not there yet.”

  Adryel looked up at the parapet atop the wall. It was lined with ordinary angels, watching to see what would happen. Several females sobbed, calling for their sons to come back, begging them not to leave.

  Dariel scowled. “Lord Michael’s offer stands,” he called out. “Renounce Lord Lucifer and you can stay.”

  Adryel sighed and her shoulders slumped. She took a deep breath. “Thank Michael for the water.”

  She slung the flask over her shoulder, looked toward the mountains, and began to walk. As she moved out, onto the plain, others followed.

  ***

  That night, Adryel and twenty others camped beside an almost-dry pool of water. Another, larger group had stopped about a kilometer behind them, and they discussed if one of them should walk back to tell the others they’d found water. Three days ago, Adryel would have agreed and might have volunteered to be the messenger. Tonight, she suggested that the others would find the pool when they set out in the morning.

  They broke off pieces of the prickly shrub and one of the students started a fire. As twilight faded and night fell, she could see the city far off to the south, its lights glowing in the darkness as if lit by the morning light. Ahead, to the north, though, she could see nothing. Everything that lay more than three meters from their fire was shrouded. She hoped the fire would last through the night, keeping at bay the creatures—wild dogs, she thought—that could clearly be heard barking in the distance.

  She ate two sugar cakes to quieten her rumbling stomach. Then, she lay on the dry grass, her arm under her head for a pillow, and, for a while, she was at home with Ramael, eating their evening meal, talking into the night, laying with each other in the darkness.

  ***

  When she awakened with the first light, she cried in disappointment, realizing it had only been a dream.

  In the clear morning air, the mountains seemed much larger than they had from the city’s gate. The black dots that Dariel had told her were Lucifer and his party were no longer visible. They had either taken shelter in the mountains the night before, or they had perished.

  Adryel had little hope they would stumble across more water, so she, like the others, drank her fill from the pool and filled her flask, leaving only a mud hole for the other group to find.

  By midmorning, the sun beat down on them. Her body ached from the night on the ground and her legs were becoming heavier with each step. Although clouds moved across the sky late in the afternoon, perspiration rolled down her body, soaking her robe. By sundown, only half of her water remained.

  Two of the students stumbled across a patch of berries while they were collecting fuel for their fire, and the entire party descended on it, picking the bushes bare. Adryel was not fond of bilberries, and she gagged when she placed the first one on her tongue, but she forced herself to eat, stuffing them into her mouth and chewing them vigorously to release the juice. Three days ago she might have suggested they take some of the berries to the other group, which had fallen a little farther behind them, but she ate her entire portion, as well as a handful that one of the students did not want.

  The city was just a dull glow on the horizon as she lay down to sleep. She awoke after what seemed like a few minutes. The fire was reduced to glowing embers and she heard animals sniffing a few meters away. She sprang up, screaming, and as the others jolted awake, Adryel heard at least a dozen sets of feet dashing away into the darkness.

  The student who was supposed to be awake tending the fire had dozed off, and three of the others took turns punching and kicking him for allowing the dogs to approach. Three days ago, Adryel would have intervened to stop them, would have argued that they were all tired and no harm had been done, but tonight she simply sat and watched as they meted out his punishment.

  The rules had changed.

  ***

  The mountains were still at least a day’s journey, but they loomed over the plain as they left camp at dawn. Adryel spied dog tracks and shivered as she realized the animals had not been more than two meters away from her. If she had not awakened when she had, she might not have awakened at all.

  By midmorning, she could make out caves in the mountains. Most of them were high on the slopes and inaccessible. A couple of very large ones, though, opened from the plain, and it seemed as if once she reached them, she would be able to simply step inside, one foot in the cave, the other resting on the plain.

  She could recall little about the mountains. She had never paid attention when she was in school, never expecting to leave the city. She did know angels lived beyond the mountains. Lord Jophiel, in fact, traveled across the plain whenever he attended a council meeting. She was not at all sure how such things would work, but she guessed the settlements across the mountains would be more accessible for the humans than would the city. She thought Lord Jophiel to be foolish not to be more concerned about the plan than he had seemed to be.

  They ought to find water in the mountains. She’d heard stories of waterfalls taller than the palace’s Great Tower and rivers that rushed between the mountains, carrying away anything, or anyone, that fell into the water. Fruit trees were said to grow in the valleys, and grain sprouted wild on the mountain slopes.

  Unless Lord Lucifer had perished, she felt certain they would find them in one of the caves. She was not at all certain, though, that his party had survived. They might have died of thirst or hunger two nights ago, or they might have been carried off by the wild dogs. Lord Lucifer would have been too proud to even pick berries from the bushes, and Ami, she thought, would be useless in the wild. Beliel and Maliel might be able to survive, but they were evil, and they might not see any advantage in sharing what food or water they had.

  Then, she recalled that her group had shared nothing with those who were behind them and she felt a pang of guilt.

  “I’m no better than Beliel,” she mumbled, disgusted at her behavior, but she quickly pushed the feeling away, noting that she barely had enough water to last the day and that, had she shared, she might not now have the strength to walk on.

  “The rules have changed,” she whispered to herself. “Everyone for herself.”

  She pushed herself to her feet and began to walk, her eyes fixed on the mountain that towered above them and the large cave that opened at its base. By afternoon, she had to crane her
neck to glimpse the summit. She had never imagined anything could rise so high.

  The sun beat down, and Adryel took her last sip of water, allowing it to swish around her mouth before finally trickling down her throat. The empty flask slipped from her hand and she left it in the dirt, of no use to her now.

  The mountain seemed as if it were just ahead, a few more steps until she would be able to rub her hand over the cool, black rock, but so it had seemed since early morning. She no longer thought about Ramael, or Lucifer, or the group behind her, or those who walked with her. She directed all of her energy into taking another step, just one more, and one more, and. . .

  The sun hung near the horizon when her foot landed on hard rock, rather than brittle grass. She had made it.

  Falling on her knees, she crawled the rest of the way into the cave, and she sank onto the cool, hard rock, not sure she would be able to move again. She lay still, hearing her companions trudge into the coolness and sink to the ground beside her, then she drifted off to sleep, with no thought as to whether she would ever awake.

  “Good evening.” Lucifer’s voice echoed through the cave. Although she knew she must be dreaming, Adryel sat up. Lucifer stood at the cave’s entrance, a torch in one hand, a flagon of what she prayed was water in the other.

  “We’ve been watching your progress all day. You have done well. Not everyone has been so fortunate.” He squatted beside Adryel. “What happened at the Institute?”

  She described how she had set watchers on the walls, how the guards had surprised them at midnight, battering down the gates, swarming though the school like locusts in a wheat field, how the students had told what had happened, and how the angels of the city had supported them as they were carted away.

  “We did not surrender, Lord Lucifer. The attack was so sudden, we were prisoners almost before we knew they were there.”

  “You made Dariel pay, though, Adryel,” one of her students said. “I’ll wager he’s still bruised from the beating you gave him, and you took a good bite out of his hand before he slapped you.”

  Lucifer smiled. “I knew you would make me proud.”

  He stood, reaching out his hand to her. “Come with me.”

  ***

  Ami huffed and turned away when Adryel stepped through the opening of a larger cave some distance from the first one. The others, though, even Beliel, seemed pleased they had survived.

  “They offered to let us stay,” Adryel told them as they began a simple meal of fruit and bread. “Lord Michael required that we renounce you, Lord Lucifer, and acknowledge Adonai’s authority. Some of the students did as he demanded.”

  “It’s just as well,” Lucifer snorted. “They weren’t committed to our cause. We don’t need halfhearted soldiers in our ranks.”

  “Soldiers?” one of the students asked in surprise.

  “Yes, we’re at war now. We’re all soldiers. . .Is that a problem?”

  The student gulped. “No. . .no.”

  “Good, because we’re not staying here. We’ll be going back.”

  When dinner was complete, most of them stretched out on the cave floor to sleep. Adryel sat at the entrance and gazed out at the plain, watching it turn colors, first orange, then deep blue, and finally black, as light faded.

  Lucifer sat beside her.

  “We’re going back?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Lucifer stared into the darkness. “When we’re ready, we’ll go back, not to oppose the infernal plan, but to take control.”

  “Take control? What? How?”

  “We are governed by imbeciles. They have proven it repeatedly in the past week—the Plan of Creation itself, the council’s refusal to listen to reason, the use of force against the Institute.” Lucifer paced from one side of the entrance to the other and back.

  “If those in control were competent, the plan would never have been written as it was, it would have been reviewed through the lens of logic, and the opposition would have either been ignored and allowed to die away or totally destroyed.

  “The council is. . .ineffective. They govern because they are archangels, not because they have any innate ability. Most of them aren’t even interested in governing. The most intelligent should be in control, regardless of rank or age. . .or gender. Me, you, those like us should govern. I’ve said it before. We need a prime minister, not a council.”

  “But Adonai. . .”

  “Perhaps he’s outlived his usefulness too.”

  ***

  Later, as she lay on the ground, trying to sleep, Adryel considered what Lord Lucifer had said. He was right, after all. He was always right. Chamuel had no interest in being on the council. Neither did Zadkiel. They were there because. . .because they were archangels. Jophiel lived beyond the mountains, and he complained about the trip every time he attended a meeting.

  Michael was. . .Lord Lucifer never criticized Michael’s ability, but she had seen for herself that he couldn’t be trusted.

  Adonai—she could not even imagine life without Adonai—but perhaps he should be replaced, as Lucifer had suggested. He had produced the plan, after all. He had allowed Ramael to be taken from her.

  The most intelligent should be in control. . .Me, you, those like us should govern.

  She smiled, Lord Lucifer’s words drifting through her mind as Adryel herself drifted off to sleep.

  Audience with Adonai

  Six months had passed. Lord Lucifer’s army had grown from the one hundred students who had eventually found their way to his encampment in the caves to almost a thousand. Some of the others had come from the areas beyond the northern mountains. Those angels had always been suspicious of the authorities in the city and they willingly embraced the idea of rebellion.

  Still others were recruited by Beliel during a trip to the provinces beyond the western mountains. Adryel considered most of his recruits to be thugs. They all had been expelled from the city. They all harbored grudges and wanted to settle scores.

  The army was not nearly the equal of Michael’s. His army was composed primarily of powers, like her—warriors. They were professional soldiers, many with centuries of training. She had once heard Lord Jophiel ask Michael why most of his soldiers were powers, and he had replied that angels allowed logic to interfere with the need to follow orders, while if you could give a power a reason to fight, his emotions would propel him into battle, the only difficulty being that he would be reluctant to take prisoners.

  Lord Lucifer’s soldiers—she used the term loosely—were primarily angels. Even though they had trained for almost half a year, the transformation from student or street thug to combat-ready soldier involved more than could be accomplished in six short months. Lord Lucifer’s army would be the obvious underdog in any fight, but Adryel hoped that with sufficient surprise they might be able to overcome Michael’s force.

  Their army had been marching across the plain, moving but a few miles each day, and was encamped a day away from the city, visible to guards on the walls.

  “We have an audience at the palace,” Lord Lucifer had informed her a day earlier. “I want you to present our demands.”

  “If Adonai meets your demands, then there will be no war?” She had glanced toward Beliel’s recruits, all of whom had been promised three days in the city, with no restrictions, in return for their service.

  “Of course not.” Lucifer had smiled. “If he were to do that, there would be no need for a war.”

  Adryel had reluctantly agreed to act as his ambassador, though, privately, she hoped for war—she had scores to settle too, with Michael and with Adonai.

  One part of her insisted she should not feel as she did. She should want to avoid conflict. She should forgive those who had wronged her. But no.

  Adryel shook her head. The rules had changed.

  ***

  “No need for a war, Lord Lucifer?” Maliel shook his head in disbelief. “You surely don’t believe Adonai will give you a single thing she will demand of him.”


  He watched as Adryel, accompanied by Beliel and four others, mounted their horses.

  Lucifer chuckled. “Of course not.”

  “So why. . .?”

  “We must demonstrate to the host of heaven, and especially to those in the city, that we are peace-loving angels who will only resort to force when no other means will work. She’ll arrive at the north gate at midday. The streets will be thronged with angels going about their daily tasks. Our friends will tell them why she has come. By nightfall the entire city will know we sent an emissary seeking peace.”

  There was a brief moment of silence as they watched Adryel and the others ride away. Lucifer grinned to himself. The wheels were officially in motion. It wouldn’t be long now. . .

  “So then, what if she finds Ramael is alive?” Maliel cocked his head to the side.

  Lucifer faced Maliel, his grin not faltering even slightly. “Is he?”

  “I’ve heard a rumor. He was injured, I’m told. He has just returned to his position. . .It’s just a rumor.”

  Lucifer shrugged. “It won’t matter. Her hatred for Lord Michael is deep-seated now. Ramael is just a half-remembered dream.”

  “And if you’re wrong?”

  “Wrong? Bah.” Lucifer crossed his arms. “But. . .if she finds that he is alive and she doesn’t return, we will, of course, announce that Michael has broken his word and is holding her hostage. If she does return, well, I will express my pleasure that our reports were in error and her pair is alive. For now. . .” He waved his hand dismissively. “Adryel is a brilliant philosopher. Her understanding of practicalities is rather limited. There will be no problem.”

  He turned away. “Break camp. By tonight, we should only be a few hours’ march from the city. When our emissary fails, we can then approach at night and breach the walls in a surprise attack.”

  ***

  Adryel and the others stopped outside the entrance to the city. The gates stood open wide, but the wall was lined with soldiers.