'But we don't have your sword. Didn't you say your powers are limited without it?'
'Yes, but they are more than strong enough to deal with this creature,' Sariel answered, his tone scornful.
Chris pulled the ring out of his pocket, the fabric tearing as he worked it out quickly. He stared down at its jagged edges. It gleamed and flared in the nauseous light of the wraith. It looked even more dangerous in this light. Then Chris looked up as he heard a cry from Janariel. He gasped.
Janariel was pushing himself up to his feet again. His sword had fallen from his grasp for the first time and he picked it up and held it weakly as he stood. A chilling laughter emanated from the wraith as it slowly stalked the angel, obviously enjoying its approaching victory.
I can't let him die, Chris thought frantically. I've never really had friends and now I've just found Jake and Ty. Am I supposed to stand here and watch him be slaughtered? No, I will not.
'And who will be in control if I put on this ring, Sariel? Will I be your puppet? The truth, please.'
'You are the captain of this ship, your body, Chris. In battle, I will take control, but only until you have learned enough to use our powers effectively. But you command me, always. I give you my word that this is the truth.'
The wraith was sidling after Janariel, who was obviously weakening. There wasn't much time left.
Chris took a deep breath. “So be it,” he said aloud and shoved the jagged piece of metal on to the middle finger of his right hand.
He felt the flesh on his finger tear as he pushed the ring on as far as it would go. A momentary flash of pain and then he watched in awe as the flesh healed and the pain vanished.
'Okay, Chris,' Sariel said. 'Here we go.'
Chris was a passenger in his own body again. But this time, he could feel everything. From deep inside, he felt a wave of power shoot through his body, starting in his chest and then racing outward into his arms and legs. He was suddenly as tall as Janariel, his body stretched and filled out, muscles swelling. From below his shoulder-blades he felt wings sprout, expand and lift up high above him. And he knew sadness as one of them dropped to drag on the ground behind him. A throbbing pain, minor but continuous, burned down his face and Chris knew it was from the wounds inflicted by the devil.
He wore no armor, unlike his first transformation. Instead, long gray robes covered him. Chris felt Sariel take control and, for the moment, he allowed it.
Sariel strode forward just as the wraith swung its weapon over its head, ready for a devastating blow. Janariel had his sword ready but his arm was shaking as he tried to hold the blade high enough to parry the strike.
“Stop, demon,” Sariel called. “Turn and face me, if you are not too cowardly.”
The creature froze for an instant and then whipped around with a shriek of rage. It stood looking down at Sariel as he approached.
There was an almost face in the middle of the putrid light and the ever-changing shape of the body. The eyes were two pits of fire but they seemed to widen as the monster sized up this new opponent.
“Is it a new kind of angel toy they have sent against me?” it screeched as if talking to itself. “This other was no fun. No challenge. I will eat it and then deal with you, little toy.”
The wraith turned back toward Janariel who was trying to stay on his feet. He's going to kill him anyway, Chris thought frantically.
'No, he is not,' Sariel replied silently. “Hold, coward! Have you sunk so low that you forget your noble beginnings? How your master must glow with pride at his servant's cowardly ways.”
Quick as a whip's lash, the demon turned again. “You dare mention my great master? You, some lowly, nameless servant of a cowardly God? Very well. I shall devour you first and save the little one for dessert. It matters not.” And the wraith slithered and slid toward them.
Chris realized something suddenly. 'Um, Sariel? You have no weapon. How can you fight against that thing's blade?'
Again, Sariel's tone was full of contempt. 'Against one of my brother's lieutenants, I would indeed need my sword, Chris. But I have a power that only one of the firstborn can wield. And in this battle, it will suffice.'
The wraith towered over them, its hideous light almost blinding Chris. It raised the dripping blade over its head and readied for a tremendous blow that Chris was sure would cut him in half.
And then it hesitated as Sariel spoke again. “Before you strike, poor servant of a fallen traitor, don't you want to know who it is you mean to kill?”
It lowered the weapon. “Who I kill? What does it matter to me? You are simply one simpering servant from the vast host of weaklings that call themselves angels.” It laughed chillingly. “Angels! There are no angels now except for us, the Fallen. And we will rise again, to rule over you all. All that are left after our unholy war, that is. Which will not be many, I don't doubt.”
“Ah, Fallen and stupid. Look closely. Use your powers to do more than animate a corpse, fool.”
The wraith snarled but its glare seemed to grow more intense. Chris watched the red eyes flicker from his face to the broken wing that drooped behind him and then back to his face again. And then the monster seemed to darken somewhat, and diminish in size. It moved back with a jerk.
“Now I know you! You are the Broken One. Sariel.” Its voice was hushed; now it squeaked rather than shrieked and Chris was reminded of a small child caught doing something wrong. “But this cannot be. You cannot walk the Earth, not you.”
“But I do, little one. I do. My one-time brother has gone too far and now our Father has responded.”
The wraith drew itself up and its form blazed brightly again. “It matters not! If you defeat me, I shall go back to Hell and tell my master of your presence. He will be warned and will hunt you down with all the forces at his command. And they are limitless.” And it laughed mockingly at Sariel.
He returned the laugh. “I think not. There are only three beings in Creation who are old enough to destroy any angel, other than my Father. You should know that, Fallen. I don't think you will be telling your master anything after tonight.”
“No!” the monster shrieked and swung its weapon at blinding speed toward them.
Sariel stretched his arms out and stood there, almost in the shape of a cross. His one good wing rose up and out behind him. And from some place deep within came a blast of silver light, so bright that Chris was surprised he wasn't blinded by it. There was a hint of incense and chanting, hymns being sung from a far distant place. And yet there was no sound at all.
The light slammed into the wraith, smashing it back and down to the ground. Its weapon was blasted to pieces and it wailed and writhed as it was suddenly consumed in silver-tinged flames. The creature roiled and convulsed, seeking to hide from the consuming light. But there was nowhere to run, and then it was gone.
Nothing was left of it but some burnt grass and the stench of rotting meat. The field was quiet and empty and Chris was himself again. He blinked once and fought back a wave of weakness. He felt dizzy for a moment and took a deep breath and waited for it to pass. Then he ran over to Jacob, who was curled up on the ground. He was himself again as well. As Chris approached, he heard his friend sobbing. He knelt down and put his hand on Jacob's shoulder.
“Hey Jake, what's wrong? Are you hurt?”
Jacob turned his head away. “No, I'm okay.” He wiped a hand over his face and tried to stand. Chris helped him up and held his arm until he was steady enough to stand on his own. Jacob looked at him, a devastated expression on his face.
“We failed, Chris. Janariel and me. We failed. Our first fight ever and we couldn't take that monster.” He turned away and looked over at the two shapes at the far side of the clearing that Chris assumed were the remains of the undead he'd heard about earlier. “I'm useless. Janariel was waiting for me to take charge, to finish that thing off, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't!” He shook his head and ran a hand across his forehead. He looked at Chris again.
/> “Sariel and you were amazing, Chris. You guys took out that wraith with no problem at all. Janariel's never seen that kind of attack before. What was it?”
Chris felt the answer bubble up into his mind and knew that Sariel was giving him the information indirectly.
“It was the light of Heaven, Jake. Apparently, these fallen angels just can't handle it. At least, the less powerful ones can't. It actually destroyed that creature. One of the perks of being a firstborn child of God, I assume.”
“Destroyed? Wow. I didn't know you could destroy an angel, Fallen or not. That's scary.”
“Yeah, well, Sariel didn't want it going back to its master and telling him that a firstborn archangel was walking the Earth. The longer the enemy is in the dark about that, the better.” He gave Jacob a little shake. “And don't beat yourself up. Sariel said that you and Janariel did very well. You need more practice and, the next time you go into battle, don't go alone. Angels aren't lone warriors, Jake. Only Sariel fights alone.” He hesitated. “He's like me, I guess. He's used to doing things by himself.”
Jacob nodded back at the house and the two friends made their way slowly back toward the gate.
“Yeah, maybe. But it wasn't fear, Chris. That much I know. Janariel was totally brave when he faced that thing. More than me.”
Chris snorted. “I didn't see any fear from either of you, Jake. I thought you guys were amazing. Seriously. So don't sweat it.” He pushed his hair back with a shaky hand. “Whew. I'm really hungry now. Is that weird or what?”
Jacob laughed as they entered the yard. “It's not weird. I was told that after a fight, we've used up a lot of energy interacting with our angels and need to fuel up.” He looked surprised. “Huh. I'm starving too.” They both chuckled.
The guards met them in the middle of the yard. Jacob told them that the danger was passed and one of the guards called it in. The lights returned to normal, the metal covers rolled up off of the windows and the guards headed back to their posts.
Chris and Jacob greeted the pack and thanked Eliza and her family for their help with a lot of patting and stroking. The dogs licked them and barked happily and then they headed back on patrol, Eliza leading the way with great dignity.
The two friends entered the house and were met by a group of people including Judge Hawkes, Martin and Tyler, who immediately lavished praise on his best friend. Jacob blushed and tried to stop him.
“I didn't do anything, Ty. It was all Sariel and Chris.”
Tyler frowned and poked his friend in the chest. “Hey, we saw all of it on the monitor. You held that thing back until Sariel could help you. It was a group effort.” He turned and looked at Chris. “Wasn't it?”
Chris nodded sharply. “Absolutely. That's what I've been trying to tell him. Without Jake and Janariel, I don't want to think what would have happened.” He grinned at Jacob. “So take the compliment, Jake. You earned it.”
“Yeah, well, whatever. Thanks, guys.” He looked at the judge, who was smiling at the three friends. “You think we could bother Chef for some food, your honor? We're starving.”
Judge Hawkes laughed gently. “Whatever you two want. You've worked hard. I doubt if there will be another attack tonight. I'll want to talk about the event with you both, but that can wait until tomorrow.”
“Excellent. C'mon guys, let's hit the kitchen.”
They made their way down to the kitchen. When they arrived, Chef was bustling around the room, pulling out dishes and pans, stirring pots on the stove and opening and closing the refrigerator.
“Aha,” he cried dramatically when Chris, Tyler and Jacob entered the room. “I knew you would be hungry after your victorious battle! Come in and sit down and let me feed you.”
Chris grinned. “How did you know, Chef?” he asked as they sat down side by side at the long counter that ran along the wall.
“Quite simple, Christopher. It was broadcast to all monitors. There are cameras along the walls, of course, and I assume the judge allowed the images to be piped into the house. Very exciting stuff, I must say.” He stopped and looked closely at Chris and Jacob. “Although I doubt that exciting is the word you two would have used at the time, is it?”
Jacob shrugged a bit. “No. I think scary is the better word, Chef. Some warrior I am, to be too scared to fight.”
Before Chris or Tyler could jump in, Chef strode across the room and looked down at Jacob with his hands on his hips. Chris was reminded of just how big the man really was.
“I will hear none of that nonsense, Jacob. The best fighters are those who fight with fear. It is human. It is natural. It sharpens the reflexes, increases reaction speed, heightens perception. Only a fool enters into battle unafraid. And fools don't live very long in combat.” He reached down and put his large hand on Jacob's hunched shoulder. “A brave person is someone who carries on despite their fear, not someone who has no fear. Remember that.”
Jacob looked up and saw Chef's stern look turn into a wide grin. He smiled tremulously in return. “Thanks Chef,” he whispered. “I'll try to.”
Chef gave his shoulder a little shake and went back to his cooking. “See that you do,” he said as he began stir-frying some vegetables.
“Feeling better?” Tyler asked his friend quietly.
“Yeah, I am,” Jacob answered as he watched Chef. “He always knows just what to say, doesn't he?”
“Yes, he does,” Chef said from across the room, without turning around. “He also has excellent hearing.”
The three teens exchanged surprised looks and then burst out laughing. Chris found that the tension he didn't even know he had locked up inside seemed to dissipate. Jake was right, he thought. Chef was a very wise man.
Soon they were tearing into loaves of oven-fresh bread, huge plates of stir-fried beef and vegetables mixed with Chef's own secret sauce and large glasses of ice-cold juice. Cherry pie with ice cream followed for dessert. Chef knew that all of them liked coffee and served mugs of it along with the pie.
He sat to one side as they ate, obviously enjoying their appetites and their constant compliments on his cooking.
Near the end of the meal, Chris brought up something that had been nagging at him.
“Chef, do you think it was Angelica that set those monsters on us tonight?” Tyler and Jacob stopped eating and listened closely.
“Oh yes, Chris. Of that I have no doubt.” Chef sighed sadly. “She was always impetuous, our little Angelica. Too quick to act, too slow to think. Just as well for us since she deserted our cause for the enemy's.”
“You knew her, Chef?” Tyler asked.
“I did, Tyler. A scared little rabbit when the judge brought her into the house that first time. All alone in the world, she was. And jumping at every noise. Once she was here a while and realized that we only meant her well, she blossomed. Attached herself to Judge Hawkes and, I think, came to regard him as a second father.” Chef took a sip of his coffee. “But there was always something twisted inside. Something...not quite right. Perhaps her angelic soul was a traitor from the beginning. Who can know? But you see what she is now. She went from loving the judge and this house to hating him and everything we stand for.” He shook his head wearily. “Love and hate truly are two sides of the same coin, I suppose.”
“That's horrible, Chef,” Jacob said, aghast. “Betraying someone you love? How could anyone do that?”
“Jacob, my lad, you're quite young yet. You all are. But betrayals happen all the time in this crazy world. People are imperfect, and everyone's motivations are different. All I know is that it happened. And the judge was wounded, deeply wounded, by her traitorous act. But to his credit, he carried on the fight. I don't know whether I could have been that strong in his place.”
Chef finished his coffee and took the cup over to the dishwasher. “At any rate, that's enough gossip for one night. I think you lads should get some rest. You've more than earned it.”
At Chef's words, Chris suddenly felt as if someone
had dropped a ton on to his shoulders and exhaustion swept over him. “Gees, Chef, did you spike our food? I can barely keep my eyes open.”
Jacob yawned widely. “Yeah, me too. That coffee must have been decaf.”
Chef chuckled and Tyler grinned at his friends.
“Just the aftermath of the battle, boys,” Tyler said. “Same thing happened to me the first time. C'mon, I'll walk with you in case either one of you decides to curl up and sleep on the floor somewhere.”
With weary waves, Chris and Jacob said good night to Chef and headed for their rooms. Tyler followed along behind them. Chris never did remember the walk back but he did think to take off his shoes before collapsing into bed. That night he had no dreams; at least none that he remembered.
The next day, Chris was informed that the judge wanted to speak with him at two o'clock. He assumed that they were going to discuss the battle with the wraith and he wondered what the judge thought of the whole thing. Chris wasn't quite sure what to think himself.
He kept looking down at his hand and staring at the ring firmly attached to his finger. Chris had tentatively tried to remove it, but it was clamped firmly to his flesh. He suspected that it had lodged itself on to the bone in his finger. It still looked horrible but Chris was grateful that there was no pain. Well, Sariel did warn me, he thought.
When he walked into the judge's office at two, Chris almost ran into Jacob coming out.
“Whoops, sorry Chris,” Jacob said with a smile.
“No prob, Jake. I see you got the third degree before me,” Chris said and rolled his eyes. Jacob shook his head.
“Nothing as bad as that, Chris. Judge Hawkes just talked me through it. Then he prescribed more battle training. I'm glad of that. Hopefully next time, I'll do better.”
“You did just fine, Jake,” Chris said. Jacob shrugged and gave a little wave before he left. Chris walked into the office.
Confronting the Fallen Page 17
