Extinction (The Divine Book 7)

by M. R. Forbes

  I probably shouldn't have been as startled as I was. We were in Rome after all, only a mile or two from the Holy See, where the good guys were dense enough that there were no demons to be found anywhere nearby. It was for the best that I had left Alyx behind. She would have stuck out more than a sore thumb. She would have been a shining beacon of evil in an otherwise crystal sea, a beacon that would have attracted way too much of the wrong kind of attention.

  We crossed the next few blocks, slowly winding up mingled with the others. A teenage girl in a long black dress walked beside me, clutching a rosary to her chest and staring down at the ground. She looked over at Alfred, staring at the angel. He made the sign of the cross, which seemed to satisfy her. She smiled, changed directions, and moved further away.

  Two blocks later, we reached our destination. The gathering turned out to be located in another church, which Alfred immediately identified as the Basilica Papale di Santa Maria Maggiore. It wasn't St. Peter's, but it was no slouch. A large, open plaza led up a number of steps into the building itself, which was being lit in the late hour by hundreds of candles. As we reached the entrance, a Touched servant greeted us and passed us candles of our own.

  "Welcome," she said. "Welcome to the Mass for Change."

  "Mass?" Obi whispered as we each took a candle and entered the basilica proper.

  "This is unexpected," Alfred said. "Masses are held to gather the attention of the Holy Spirit. I would have thought the opposition would be hesitant to do so."

  "Unless they're trying to make a statement," I suggested. "The mass is to ask for change."

  "That is true."

  We moved into the nave. Many of the seats were already taken, the candles creating an ambient light that unified all of the holders. Looking back over my shoulder, I could see the crowd would be standing room only.

  "We should spread out a little," I said. "I'll take a spot near the door."

  "Yeah, good idea," Obi said. "I see a spot closer to the altar. I'll scope things out from there."

  "There are angels gathered in the transept," Alfred said. "I will go speak with them and see if I can get any further information. It could be that we aren't the only ones here to observe and report rather than participate."

  "If either of you gets in trouble, raise your candle," I said.

  "Will do," Obi replied, breaking away and heading up toward the front.

  Alfred broke to the right, while I crossed a row of chairs to the left before returning to the rear of the building. I positioned myself next to a column near the exit, crossed my arms, and settled in to wait.

  Twenty minutes had passed when the doors to the basilica were slowly pulled closed, the last of the incoming Touched squeezing in behind them. I was amazed at the sheer volume of Heaven's servants in the room. There had to be close to a thousand, if not more, and judging by the languages I heard being spoken, many had come from other parts of the world to attend.

  It was a quite a showing for a gathering that Obi had called propaganda. Then again, I couldn't expect him to be unbiased. It was clear he preferred the old way of thinking to the new, especially when his first experience with the new was to watch Sarah murder innocents.

  That is if Adam was connected to the event. I wished the link between them was a little more tenuous. That all of these people weren't here to consider doing something God might not approve of.

  A bell rang from somewhere within the basilica. It chimed again a few seconds later.

  An angel swooped down from the ceiling, landing smoothly in front of the altar.

  It wasn't Adam. That much was immediately obvious. The seraph was female, with short blonde hair and a lithe frame.

  The gathering had been quiet to begin with. It fell silent at her appearance.

  "Brothers and sisters," she said. "Thank you for coming."

  Her eyes danced across the crowd. They were bright and blue, and they sparkled as they caught the candlelight. I could see her making eye contact with some of the gathered Touched as she scanned.

  Of course, her eyes stopped on me.

  It was only for the briefest moment, but it was long enough to leave me wondering if she recognized who I was, or if she had simply recognized that I didn't have an aura. The latter was more likely.

  "As you know, we've called each and every one of you here to participate in one of the greatest moments in both human and angelic history. A moment that will forever be remembered across the universe. In a few minutes, Archangel Raguel himself will lead a special Mass to pray for the eyes of the Lord to turn upon us, to take up our voices and hear our words in joyful consideration of our needs."

  My ears perked up. Archangel Raguel? I had never heard of them, but judging by the way the crowd gasped, I had a feeling he or she was someone powerful. More importantly, they had come down to the mortal realm to lead the charge. If the demons found out, there might literally be Hell to pay.

  "Before that, I wanted to take a moment to reiterate our position. Your brother and mine, the angel Adam, was unjustly cast down from Heaven and made into one of the Fallen, all because he chose to follow the word of the Lord and make every effort to put an end to the Diuscrucis. A responsibility that he was ordered to undertake by Archangel Raguel, after he was given the orders through a vision of Christ himself. We want only for the Lord to hear us, to consider our prayer, and to review His decision to expel Adam from His service.

  I hope and pray that He will take our words into His heart. This is about more than the soul of one angel. It is about all of our souls. We dedicate our lives and our eternities to Him. We shouldn't have to fear that He will cast us out when all we seek to do is please Him. Thank you."

  She bowed to the assembly, and then spread her wings, lifting into the sky once more. I couldn't see where she landed from my vantage point.

  A chant started a moment later. It was deep and rich, in a voice that was beyond anything I had ever heard before. A voice beyond human. I knew it was the Archangel before I saw him. So did everyone else.

  The doors swung open nearby. A robed figure stepped through them. I could barely see Raguel's face beneath the cowl, but his lips were moving as he continued his chant. He walked slowly and alone to the front of the gathering, bowing and kissing the altar when he reached it. Then he turned toward us, lowering his hood and revealing a head of short white hair and a wise, chiseled face.

  "In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," he said, his voice carrying evenly to every part of the basilica. "The Lord be with you."

  "And with your spirit," the congregation replied.

  "As we begin this mass for change, let us take a moment to offer thanks to our Lord for his kindness and mercy and care. May he see the wisdom in our words, and glory from our hearts."

  "Amen."

  He began to speak again, a prayer in Latin. I only caught the first few words.

  Someone rubbed up against my shoulder. I turned my head in their direction, my eyes suddenly finding themselves trapped against the pale blue of the presiding angel's.

  "Welcome, stranger," she said, her smile warm and inviting, as if she meant it. Maybe she did. "Adam told me you might come."

  Twelve

  "You know who I am?" I asked.

  "Not exactly."

  That was good. I was starting to feel like my ability to make people forget about me was losing its mojo. Was Adam retaining a vague memory of me, or did Sarah tell him?

  "What did Adam tell you, then, exactly?"

  "There might be someone in the crowd. Someone different. He suggested that I talk to you, and find out why you were here."

  "He's the reason I'm here. I need to meet with him."

  "What about?"

  "Sarah."

  "I don't know who that is."

  That didn't surprise me. Adam would have a hard time gaining support if his followers knew what he was really up to.

  "It doesn't matter," I said. "Do you really believe God made a mi
stake? That Adam was treated unfairly?"

  "Look up at the altar, friend. Do you know who that is?"

  "Archangel Raguel. That's what you said, anyway."

  "He is the Archangel of Justice and Vengeance. Two things that so often go together. If he believes Adam has not been treated fairly, then I am inclined to believe it."

  "What about Adam? Is he pushing for this?"

  "No," she replied. I wasn't expecting that. "He has told Raguel he doesn't want it. He accepts his position."

  "I'm not sure I believe that."

  "It is as Raguel says. He does not lie."

  I looked up at the Archangel again. Adam didn't want this? Nobody could convince me that was true. If his goal was to kill Divine, what better way than to start a war in Heaven? But then, if I was right, what the hell was Raguel's part in this?

  "So Adam isn't here?" I asked.

  "No."

  "Do you know where I can find him?"

  "As I said, friend, he isn't involved with this gathering. It is his case that has set the wheels of change in motion, not his direct intervention."

  "But he talked to you. He wanted you to talk to me."

  "We were friends before his fall. We remain friends now. I spoke to him recently, and he said to me that if a stranger arrives, I was to greet him and treat him as a brother."

  That didn't make any sense. I hated when things didn't make any sense.

  "Fine," I said. "What should we talk about?"

  "When the Mass is over, I would like you to meet the Archangel. We have arranged a separate meeting for the most reverend of our followers. I would like you to attend."

  A trap? I almost said it out loud.

  "Why me?" I asked. "I'm nobody. Nothing. I don't even have an aura."

  "That is how I know you're special," she replied. "Did you know that Jesus Christ had no aura?"

  "Almost every image I've ever seen shows him practically glowing."

  "His spirit. It was powerful, but it wasn't the same thing. There will never be another like him. You are not like him, but you are different." She had no idea how true both of those statements were. "Please, stay after the Mass, and I will bring you to the meeting."

  "Okay," I said. I had come here for information. If I was being invited to the V.I.P. lounge and a chance to rub elbows with the Archangel who was leading the revolution, I wasn't going to say no.

  She smiled, bowed her head to me, and then vanished into the throng. I put my eyes back on Raguel. He was reading from the Bible.

  I looked around a little more, at the faces of the assembled. Most of them were Touched, pledged to God and the war against the demons. They followed the Mass with wide eyes and open mouths, in awe of the Archangel. I wasn't in awe of him. Justice and vengeance? I didn't trust him at all.

  He finished the readings and moved into the Liturgy of the Eucharist, his servants, including Blue-eyes, helping him prepare the altar. He was leaning over it, preparing to speak when I noticed that there was a candle in the corner that was higher than the others.

  At first, I thought maybe it was an accident. That one of the Touched was yawning or stretching. I squinted my eyes to dim the candlelight around me and see across the basilica.

  It was Alfred who was holding his candle up. His sword appeared in his other hand as I watched.

  I scanned the room, searching for the threat.

  Raguel stopped speaking.

  The entire atmosphere of the gathering shifted. Devotion followed by fear.

  Alfred pointed his sword away from the masses, toward the side of the basilica.

  Raguel disappeared in a burst of light.

  Something hit the side of the building, sending a shockwave rippling along the floor, the sound of the cracking stone nearly deafening.

  The door next to me pushed open. A Touched man stumbled in, his robes covered in blood.

  "We're under attack," he managed to say, just before he fell to the ground.

  I moved to him, kneeling at his side and looking back out the door.

  A horde of demons was waiting there. An entire army of every kind of hellspawn I had ever encountered. They hissed and growled, unable to enter the church, but ready for a fight.

  Something hit the building again. A fire demon, maybe, trying to collapse it from the outside. The demons didn't need to go in if they forced everybody out.

  I looked back that the gathered army of Touched. They were shedding their robes, and revealing themselves to be armed with blessed knives and swords. No matter what happened next, it was going to be bloody.

  How had the forces of evil known about this meeting? Had the demons deciphered the coded message on SamChan? I doubted it. There was only one way I could think of.

  The building cracked again, and a huge chunk of stone came loose, dropping from the ceiling. I heard screams as the first of the Touched were crushed beneath it, causing a sudden wave of panic to replace the calm defensiveness. They began pushing toward the exit, toward the gathered army that would cut them down easily in their desperation.

  I pushed myself past it, moving out into the night at the head of the line. The demons were a thousand strong at least, and as I stood in the center between good and evil, I noticed the solitary figure hanging in the back on a pair of razor sharp wings.

  Sarah.

  My heart fell, my sense of reason replaced by pure anger. Whether or not she had arranged this, she was participating in it. She was probably here because Adam knew I was here. Because Blue-eyes had told him. He was using her to mock me, the same way Gervais was using the Fist.

  And then there was no more time for emotions. The fleeing Touched raced towards the demons, and the demons charged back. I was stuck in the middle of it, which meant I couldn't just stand there and do nothing.

  So I didn't.

  Thirteen

  I gathered my power, holding it close as both sides approached, squeezing it within me like a mystical singularity. I could feel the onrush of heat and cool as the demons and the Touched drew ever closer to me. I kept my eyes on Sarah, watching her and trying to meet her gaze. She hovered behind the action, not returning my attention, but not intentionally avoiding it either.

  It was as if she just didn't care.

  She could have killed Obi, and she hadn't. I knew that had to count for something. At the same time, if Adam knew I was here and summoned an army to challenge me, and sent her to watch, that counted for something, too.

  She was somewhere between good and evil right now. What I needed was clarity on that.

  The two sides were almost on me. I could almost taste the demons, sulfurous and decayed. I could smell the Touched, their freshly washed hair and their neat, clean clothes. They were both only a few feet away from me.

  I released my power, in a sharp line that stretched out from me, reaching across the plaza turned battlefield. It snapped out like a rubber band, and when the armies ran into it, it pulled tighter, slowing the entire approach, forcing the entire charge to fall apart. I wrenched it back toward me, and opponents from both sides were thrown to the ground, knocked over, or pushed back. I couldn't stop a fight like this completely, and there was no point to try. Angels and demons had been battling for centuries; it wasn't my job to make them friends.

  I wanted to get to Sarah. I needed to know where her head was at. I started moving forward, certain that Obi could take care of himself, and that Alfred would come to his aid if he couldn't. The first rows of demons were off-balance from my initial outburst, and I moved past them without intercession.

  I heard shouting, growling, screaming, yelping. I heard Touched die. I heard demons die. I waded into the thick, the horde a blur of misshapen faces, claws, and leathery skin. Of course, they tried to attack me. I looked like any of the other mortals. I greeted them with hard punches. I pushed them back with my power, I wrapped myself in it and absorbed their strikes. These demons weren't powerful enough to hurt me. I cut through them as a dervish of energy, batting them
aside like matchsticks and making a path through the center, my eyes always on Sarah, growing closer to her with each heartbeat.

  I was halfway there when she finally noticed me, her eyes landing on mine for the briefest of instants. I thought I saw her brow furrow slightly when they did; her face flashed a look of absolute sadness and guilt. Then she looked away, over me toward the rear. Then she started moving, to my left where a line of Touched were breaking through and flanking the demons.

  She drove in at them, grabbing one by the neck, her wings sweeping around and cutting him in half. She dropped from the sky, landing, ducking, spinning and slashing, cutting two more down with those infernal appendages. An angel joined the fray, sword bright with angelic scripture. Her wings wrapped around in front of her as the sword came down, striking against them and skipping harmlessly away. She threw them out, catching him full in the chest and throwing him backward. He caught himself and charged again.

  She let him come. A dagger appeared in his hand, slashing toward her as he rushed in. She dropped low again, putting her wings out to the side and throwing herself forward, past the angel. Her wings decapitated him, and he vanished amidst the crowd.

  I had never seen her fight like this. I had never seen her act like this. A look had appeared in her eyes, a bloodlust that chilled me to the bone. Whatever had been there a moment ago vanished in the midst of the destruction.

  I knew I had to stop it.

  I knew I was the only one who could.

  I slapped my power out, knocking aside a devil who was getting too close, trying to run me through with his sword. Then I threw the power out behind me, using it to propel me forward, over the crowd and into the sky toward Sarah.

  I risked a glance back as I did, finding Obi in the thick with Alfred at his side. The angel was a consummate fighter, a true warrior. Every motion was measured and perfect, every strike, every parry. Obi, on the other hand, was all brute force and emotion, punching a demon in the face and then jabbing a blessed knife into its heart.