Transgression

by Brandy C. Ange

“He can,” Iesou said. “He is free to leave. Lucifer is also free to attempt to stop him.”

  Luc smiled. “You’ll never make it out of here. There is but one route, and it is blocked by thousands.” Luc laughed.

  “Was.” Iesou said.

  “What?” Luc stopped laughing and stared at him.

  “I think you’ll find there are a few less than there were.” Iesou smiled politely. “Ah, here we are.” He raised a hand, and gestured toward the entrance.

  Achaia heard running feet, and turned to look. Around the columns of ice ran Noland, Emile, Olivier, Naphtali and Bale. They were all covered in blood, both black and red.

  “Iesou!” Bale fell to his knees, as did the others.

  “Oops, was I supposed to bow?” Achaia asked her father.

  “Next time. You’ll know next time,” he smiled.

  Noland was the first to stand. He ran over to Achaia, kneeling before her, and studied her face. “Are you alright?”

  “Nathaniel?” Shael was looking at Noland as if he had seen a ghost. He shook his head, as if realizing his mistake. “Who are you?” Shael asked sternly.

  “Noland ben Nathaniel,” Noland said bowing to her father.

  “What are you doing?” Achaia asked somewhat embarrassed. “Stand up.”

  “And?” Shael looked from Noland to Iesou. “You’ve got to be joking me—” Shael said sounding exasperated. “She is definitely a girl in need of a father,” Shael said standing, shooting Noland an evil glare. “And I’ll take my chances with the rest.”

  Noland handed Shael a long sword.

  “A long sword, eh?” He said, taking it. “And what’s wrong with a dagger? Too afraid to get close to your enemies?” Shael asked, looking Noland dead in the face.

  “No, sir.” Noland said, sounding oddly formal. “I have one, if it’s what you prefer.” Noland said, offering him one from his belt.

  “Don’t be a people pleaser, it’s obnoxious,” Shael said shortly, taking the dagger anyway, and handing the long sword back to Noland.

  After Shael had looked away, Noland looked to the ceiling and blew out his breath.

  “I’m right here.” Iesou said smiling, and patting Noland on the back as he stood.

  “Right…” Noland said, smiling.

  “Achaia will be needing a weapon.” Shael said, turning his back on Luc, who was fuming with rage.

  “I’m sure she has several,” Noland said, looking at Achaia for confirmation. “Sir,” he added, looking at Shael, who didn’t seem impressed.

  Shael looked at Achaia for her to confirm or deny. Noland however was throwing a guilty look toward Bale, who was staring on in disbelief, as Achaia pulled up her left sleeve. Around her wrist was the beautiful diemerilium snake that looked like a bracelet wrapped up her arm. It glimmered with watery looking emerald silver scales, and emerald eyes. Achaia grabbed the head of the snake and yanked. It uncoiled from around her wrist and lashed out in a wide arch with a loud crack.

  “I’m ready.”

  “You’re a slave driver like your mother,” Shael said rolling his eyes at her whip.

  “But I am my father’s daughter,” Achaia said, pulling her feather dagger from her belt with her left hand.

  Shael smiled at her proudly.

  “Can I catch my breath first?” Emile asked, looking exhausted.

  “By all means,” Iesou said, gesturing to the sofas. “You have nothing to fear here, for the moment.”

  Luc was fuming, he had remained silent for too long. “You will rue this day. Mark my words. You will wish you had chosen eternity with me when this is over.” Achaia looked at him, expecting him to be talking to her father, only to find him staring into her eyes.

  She only took a moment to recover. “I can’t imagine what I would have to go through, to prefer an eternity with you in its place.”

  “I can.” Luc growled.

  Luc had retreated to the other side of the hall while waiting for Iesou to leave. Achaia watched him huddle together whispering with his demons by the bar. She finally took a good look at her father and chronicled a list of his apparent injuries.

  “Did they torture you?” Achaia asked him under her breath, as the others checked each other over for any serious damage.

  “No,” her father shook his head. “This is all from sport.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Are you?” Shael leveled his gaze demanding an honest response.

  “I haven’t had a chance to think about it. Ask me again when we get out of this place.” Achaia absentmindedly rubbed a finger over the cut on her wrist from the demon tooth. She felt violated not being able to remember how she had gotten to where John wanted her.

  “Iesou left,” Noland said coming up next to Achaia. “We’re on our own from here on out.”

  Shael nodded and looked over at Luc appraisingly. “He won’t make it easy.”

  As if that was his cue, Luc sauntered over, a devilish grin on his face. “Your welcome here has expired.” He was looking at Noland. Emile, and the others came to stand behind him. Achaia found herself taking an involuntary step toward him herself, and her father followed. They stood grouped together, bracing themselves for whatever Luc might have in store for them.

  Luc turned and nodded at two demons that were still next to the bar; one of them promptly left the room, and the other came and stood next to him. The demon that joined them was a short squat demon that looked something like a wombat.

  Achaia heard her father snort, and looked up to see him grinning.

  “This is your second?” Shael laughed. “Surprisingly anticlimactic choice, there.” Shael nodded toward the pathetic looking creature. “Hello again, Gaki.”

  Luc’s brow flinched with contempt. “He is not my only second.” At that, Achaia heard a scratching scuttling sound. She turned her attention to the archways around the room, the only exits, and saw to her horror that they were swarmed. Dozens of demons, like massive insects were scaling the walls, and climbing up to the ceiling. Others were approaching from the ground. They were being surrounded. Ice chips fell from the ceiling as the demons’ claws, like massive icepicks, dislodged chunks of the ceiling as they moved along its surface.

  “Holy sh—”

  Luc grabbed Gaki and covered his ears. “Watch your language!” He spat. “They are no such thing!” He patted Gaki consolingly on the back, as he released his huge ears. He mumbled something about no sane person being able to mistake them for holy, and turned his attention back to Achaia with a frown. “You have a vile temper, a biting sarcasm, and a coldness about you Achaia.”

  Achaia stepped back as if she had been smacked, but recovered quickly.

  “I feel we would have done quite well together.” Luc smiled. “Who knows, maybe we’ll still get our chance.”

  Achaia cringed and felt like something slimy had dripped down her spine at the word ‘our’.

  “As nice as this visit has been, I’m beyond ready to get out of here,” Shael said, looking at the others to make sure they were all ready.

  Luc sneered. “As you wish, brother.” Luc whistled loudly, it echoed through the hall, and the demons on the ceiling rose like an upside down tide as the ones on the floor advanced.

  “Two up!” Shael yelled looking to Noland and Naphtali.

  Achaia had no idea what he was talking about, but they seemed to get the message. Naphtali and Noland unleashed their wings and rose like torches into the air, burning and slashing the demons from the ceiling. Noland was using the fire coming from Naphtali to create tornados of fire that he used to lash out at the masses of demons. They fell from the ceiling, landing on their comrades on the ground with sickening, bone-crunching thuds.

  Achaia stood with her whip in one hand and her dagger in the other. She slashed one demon across the eye as he approached, and while he was distracted, she jumped on his front and slit his throat with the dagger.

  “That’s my girl!” Her father yelled. “Like an angry sp
ider monkey.” He laughed, joyfully.

  Achaia smiled, but didn’t turn to look at him. She leapt from the chest of the demon as he fell, and lunged for the one coming from behind him. One step, and one demon, closer to the exit.

  Bale and Olivier were thinning the path in front of them, and she knew without looking that Emile was behind her with his bow; arrows were soaring over her head, impaling demons that were coming up on her.

  Achaia looked up, and saw a demon like a large-man-sized lizard stalking her. She swung her whip around her head like a lasso and aimed for the demon, her whip wrapping around its waist. She pulled him down from the ceiling hard, and was happy to see one of Emile’s arrows hit him in the abdomen on the way down. He landed on the arrow so that it pierced him through as his head collided with the floor. She jumped up, and landed in a straddle over him as he squirmed, and jammed her dagger down into his temple.

  They had all made it to the archway. Achaia hoped that if they made it into the narrowness of the tunnel, they could make faster progress. The crowds of demons would have a harder time following them if they were tripping over themselves.

  Achaia heard her father’s voice, and knew he was shouting instruction. Noland and Naphtali took up the lead, clearing the path with fire, torching all the demons that came before them, but Achaia noticed that Noland was already looking exhausted. She wondered how long the fight had been for him to get to her, and he had hardly had a chance to rest.

  Emile took up the rear, shooting all the demons that tried to follow them. Olivier helped by darting around quickly retrieving arrows from the fallen demons and returning them to his brother’s quiver.

  Achaia, Bale, and Shael fought off all the demons not vanquished by fire, or who broke passed Emile’s line of fire.

  Achaia was feeling hopeful, until she remembered just how long the tunnel had been when she had walked through it peacefully with John. A wave of dread washed over her, as she looked down the tunnel, and saw nothing but demons, and no light.

  19

  The Difference Between Battle and War.

  “Know thyself, know thy enemy.

  A thousand battles, a thousand victories.”

  -Sun Tzu

  The tunnel was crowded with humanoid demons that looked wolfish and reptilian. They reminded Achaia of horrible looking werewolves in a sci-fi movie. Their scales were a dark green, and black, but their muscles were thick and bulky like the beasts of fantasy.

  Achaia slung her whip through the air, catching one of the beasts around the neck, as it went for Olivier. The demon scratched at the whip around its neck as it tightened. Olivier dug his dagger into the side of the beast’s head, and it slumped over.

  Achaia recalled her whip, just as another demon charged her as if to tackle her to the ground. As its head barreled under her arm, she wrapped the thick of her whip around its neck. Instead of falling backward onto the ground, Achaia flung herself around the side of the demon landing on its back, and pulled on the whip, choking it. The creature fell to its knees, gagging. Another demon came up behind her. She kept one hand pulling hard on the whip, while stabbing blindly behind her with the other. She could hear the demon growling, but it had not released her.

  The demon had grabbed her around the neck, and lifted her into the air from behind. She kicked backward, her feet making contact with it repeatedly, but again, to no apparent avail. Achaia recalled her whip from the demon in front of her, and lashed out backwards. She couldn’t tell if she was hitting the demon holding her, or something else, but it choked her harder.

  White lights were flashing before her eyes, and she started losing the ability to focus.

  “Achaia!” She heard someone call her name, but she couldn’t tell who it had been. Then she was falling. She hit the ground hard, her legs didn’t catch her. Feet were rushing in every direction, most of them were gigantic, clawed and paw-like.

  She took a couple deep breaths which caused her to cough, and sat up still disoriented. A demon, on all fours, hunched over her, roaring with its jaws open wide, and coming toward her face. She stared into the vast mouth beyond, and seemed to snap to. As the jaw loomed over her, she jammed her arm quickly into its mouth and grabbed the back of the beast’s tongue. Its breath smelled like iron. The demon coughed and gagged, its mouth opening wider in reflex. Then she pushed with her other hand against its trap, and yanked on its tongue. It roared with anger and pain, and Achaia felt the resistance give, and then give way completely as she pulled the demon’s tongue from its mouth. As it writhed in pain, she looked quickly around for a weapon. A few feet away, she saw her dagger laying on the ground, and crawled toward it.

  Demons were all over them. As she grabbed her dagger and turned back Achaia couldn’t see any of her companions in the mass hysteria.

  Achaia woke up sweating and gasping for air. She sat up straight, holding her dagger out in front of her. Checking her wrist quickly, she saw that her whip was still coiled up her arm, the head of the snake looking as if it were napping on her hand. She also saw the thin line from where she had cut herself with the demon tooth.

  Achaia lowered her dagger and fought to keep her eyes open. She stared around the room, knowing the second she closed her eyes she would see them again; even if it was just to blink. She lit the candle on the nightstand and sat all the way up, leaning against her headboard.

  Giving up on getting anymore sleep, she wrapped the blanket Noland had given her around her shoulders, her fire had gone out, and her room was drafty. She grabbed the candle and decided to go and sit by the fire in the library and read until everyone else woke up.

  She walked the quiet and empty halls of the safe house until she reached the library double doors. The door creaked loudly as she opened it. She flinched at the contrast it posed to the silence. She picked up the book that was left next to one of the arm chairs and almost laughed. It was Dante’s Inferno. She curled up in the chair in front of the fire and started reading.

  She had made it through the first canto and had started the second when she heard footsteps. A figure appeared in the door. She saw the shadow of the figure move into the room, and as it rounded one of the bookshelves, she saw that it was Noland.

  “Oh,” he said as he saw her. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here,” he said honestly.

  Achaia shrugged.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

  Achaia shook her head. There was a long moment of silence as Noland selected a book and sat in the chair across from her.

  “I—,” Achaia started but stopped when she realized that she had no idea what she had been meaning to say, only that she felt like she should say something.

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” Noland said quietly. There was a numb sort of sadness to his voice that Achaia felt in her chest when she heard it, like a push against her ribs.

  “Ever?” She asked.

  Noland looked across at her. More than ever Achaia wished for even just a hint of Emile’s gift, that she could have an idea of Noland’s thoughts and what he was feeling. He said nothing, though, just looked back down at his book and started reading. Achaia felt as if a wall had been built between them. She wasn’t sure when or how it had gone up, or if it could ever come back down. But something was broken.

  The sun had come up at some point, and had finally reached the point of coming over the surrounding buildings to filter in through the windows of the library.

  Noland had fallen asleep with his book in his lap, and his head leaning against the wing of the armchair. With a loud bang, the doors of the library were thrust open, and Yellaina came running in looking around frantically. Noland startled awake, holding up his book as if prepared to use it as a weapon against the intruder.

  Yellaina stepped back, looking relieved and alarmed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two!”

  Noland looked over to see Achaia was still sitting in her arm chair, looking as though sleep had evaded her once and for all the night befo
re. Her eyes were red, and had dark circles under them, her hair was a tangled mess, from where, he guessed, she had tossed and turned whenever she had slept. He hadn’t noticed in the dim firelight, the night before, how rough she looked.

  “What’s up?” Noland asked, standing and stretching.

  “Joash is here.” Yellaina said, urgently.

  Noland stopped mid-stretch and stared at her. “What?”

  “He isn’t alone. A lot of the elders are here, including Olivier’s parents. They really aren’t happy.”

  Noland nodded and looked over at Achaia. He had known there would be repercussions for their actions, but their transgressions were unprecedented. He had no idea how severe the punishment would be. He sighed, and set his book down on the seat of his chair. He searched his mind for any kind of words of encouragement for Achaia, but found nothing. He wouldn’t lie to her. This was bad. So he didn’t say anything. He looked over at her and saw her set her book down, and square her shoulders.

  Noland followed Yellaina, Achaia walking behind them, to Bales quarters.

  The room was crowded with four council elders, Shael, Naphtali, and Bale all surrounding the desk. Olivier and Emile entered behind them, and Yellaina exited the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Do you care to explain why on earth you would decide to enter the domain of Lucifer?” Emile’s father asked, in a stern, fatherly tone, looking mainly at Noland and Emile and Olivier.

  “It was my fault.” Achaia said, before anyone else could think to speak. “I went to save my father. Your council didn’t seem inclined to help me, so I took matters into my own hands. As you’re well aware, I’m not one of you. Your rules don’t apply to me. Your rules do however mandate that Noland, as my Guardian, do everything in his power to protect me. Needless to say, in the fulfillment of his duty, he and the others, came after me.” Achaia looked at the elders not only as if she were absolutely fearless, but as if she were livid. “So I ask you, why, in defiance of your own laws, you denied underage Nephilim back up and support in a dangerous situation?”