by Brian Fuller
Angling his one good arm, Helo turned his palm toward Sparks and let loose a jet of the white fire Cassandra had gifted him with as his last Bestowal. It washed over Sparks, and he took a step back. It did nothing to Ash Angels. Helo knew it wouldn’t. He and Goliath had experimented with it.
“Brilliant,” Sparks said. “You knew that wouldn’t hurt me, right? Well, doesn’t matter. I’d steal it from you if I could so it could actually get put to good use.” He sat on a low rock nearby and leaned his elbows on his knees. “You’ve killed, what, three Shedim according to your file? That’s what I do, by the way, across the pond. I’m sort of on loan to your Sicarius Nox over here, me and Finny. Old World used to have all the action, but you Americans are stealing all of it, as usual.”
So Sicarius Nox was still active and recruiting from out of country. The AAO had branches across the world, but from what Helo understood, they were independent within their own borders. Why would the AAO need to hop the pond to grab this guy? He wished he could talk so he could get information.
“What I don’t get,” Sparks continued, “is you protecting this Aclima Loremaster. I mean, I’ve seen pictures of her so I get it, but I don’t get it. We have a real chance here to rid the world of Shedim forever. You get that, right? I mean, you killed Cain, so you have to get it. I’ve spent twenty years hunting Shedim. Twenty. I’ve seen what they do to people, to Ash Angels. So I’ve got to say straight out that I’m a bit pissed I’m here blowing a hole in the back of an Ash Angel who should know better. There’s important stuff going on in this war. It’s not all about you and the pretty little Dread missus.”
Sparks stood and took a few steps away, staring out to a horizon of low rolling hills blanketed in dying grass and shadow. If Sparks had hunted Shedim for twenty years, he was either really good at it or hadn’t run into many Shedim.
But the Brit clearly thought about Aclima like everyone else did. It was like none of them remembered she had converted to an Ash Angel once, that Cain had tortured her until she had become a Dread again. She deserved a chance to turn back before her afterlife ended, but all anyone could see was the red aura and the symbols on her arms that marked her as a Loremaster.
The whine of sirens blared across empty terrain, and Helo relaxed his body and took in the deep blue-black sky. He and Goliath had crossed the Ash Angel Organization big-time, but what could they do to him? It wasn’t like the AAO was a government. They had no right to lock him up or end his afterlife for what he had done. And he had to hope he still had friends there. Archus Ramis and Archus Ebenezer had never liked him, but Grand Archus Gideon had been friendly, and Diarchus Joan had sided with him when Archus Ebenezer had disbelieved every word he had said. If the top two members of the Archai supported him, maybe he could talk his way out of this.
Sparks eventually wandered back to the rock and sat back down. The sun had nearly completed its retreat. The British Ash Angel smoked a couple more cigarettes and got lost in his phone for time uncounted before Helo heard the first beat of chopper blades thumping on the night air.
“Ride’s almost here,” Sparks said, gathering his rifle. “Might have some friends of yours. Sort of.”
Lear was the only person in the AAO Helo thought might still treat him like a sane person. Even Corinth and Scarlet had to have their doubts by now. The members of Sicarius Nox probably wanted to pull out his heart and dump him in a river. Sparks hefted his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed Helo by the ankle, dragging him down the hill, not sparing him any rocks on the way by. The Bell helicopter’s turbine whine drowned out the highway noise behind them, a searchlight blinding him until it settled on the flattened grass.
The door opened. “Get the subject in here.” That was Argyle. Great. At least the mission was being done by the book, though causing a horrible traffic accident seemed a bit extreme.
Sparks’s aura flared, and he lifted Helo straight up, hands from within the chopper grabbing Helo’s legs and yanking him inside. Sparks hopped in next and closed the door, dulling the sound of the rotors.
“It is good to see you, Angel Born,” Shujaa said, his deep voice resonating throughout the cabin. He sounded sincere. The big African pulled him upright and buckled him in. Argyle sat next to Shujaa, Sparks next to Helo, two seats on each side facing each other.
“The subject is on board,” Argyle said into his comms unit. “Take us up, Finnegan.”
“Call him Finny,” Sparks said. “He hates Finnegan.”
“His official Ash Angel name is Finnegan,” Argyle said, and Helo got the feeling this wasn’t the first time this conversation had taken place.
The chopper powered into the air like they were trying to escape a live fire zone, twisting around and tipping forward.
“Heal him, Sparks,” Argyle said. “We need intel.”
“Maybe wait till we get a bit higher,” Sparks said. “To discourage him from busting out the door.”
Argyle nodded. “Good thinking, Sparks.”
“Aww, thanks, Argyle,” Sparks said.
About a minute later, Sparks laid his hand on Helo’s arm and the wounds closed up, a slug falling out of his hip and onto the floor.
“Do not think of escape, Angel Born,” Shujaa said. “I will follow you.”
“Escape if you want,” Sparks added. “It’s been a while since I’ve taken a shot from a chopper.”
“That’s enough,” Argyle said, eyes burning. His trademark flat top was as sharp as ever. “We need to know where Aclima is. Now.”
“I don’t know where she is,” Helo answered. “We were looking for her when you rammed us with a semi. Whose idea was that?”
“Mine, of course,” Sparks said.
“Gory Lorry,” Finny chuckled. “Works every time.”
“Where is she likely to run?” Argyle said.
“I don’t know,” Helo said. “She ditched us. She’s six thousand years old and as devious as hell. Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. You know that.”
Argyle glared at him. Helo couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d seen Argyle, he’d caved his head in just before Goliath blew Faramir’s head off.
Argyle tapped the comms unit in his ear. “The subject claims not to know Aclima’s location. Proceeding to primary transfer location. We’ll get him to Deep 7 in thirty-six hours.”
Helo scrunched his forehead. “Deep 7?” He thought they would take him back to Zion Alpha for questioning or to answer to Archus Mars.
“Deep 7,” Argyle said. “A lot of important folks want to figure out what you are and what you’ve been doing. You know, Faramir was right about you. You’re just a cowboy whose vision doesn’t go much beyond the end of his nose.”
Helo ignored the barb. Argyle was a color-inside-the-lines kind of guy who couldn’t see beyond rules, regulations, and his superior’s kissable backside.
“How is Faramir these days?” Helo chanced.
“Doing an excellent job for Sicarius Nox,” Argyle answered. “Now, I think we’d all like it if you kept your mouth shut. I can’t wait to get you out of my sight.”
Was Argyle really so bitter about having his head caved in? “How’d you find us?” Helo asked Shujaa. “Did Goliath call it in?”
“No, Angel Born,” Shujaa said.
“Can you stop calling him that?” Sparks said. “It makes it sound like he’s the leader of some cult.”
“He is Angel Born,” Shujaa said. “He is a weapon against darkness who only needs reminding of his purpose.”
Sparks snorted. “He’s a delusional Marine who needs a good conk on the head. Maybe several good conks. This might surprise you, Helo, but it wasn’t Goliath or detective work that got you caught. It was a phone call, a tip from a concerned citizen.”
“One of the Angels of Mercy?” Helo asked.
“No,” Sparks said. “Aclima.”
Chapter 3
Tribunal
“Welcome to Deep 7, a state-of-the-art facility housing command and cont
rol for the Ash Angel Organization. My name is Anna—”
“Skip!” Helo said before the automated assistant could get too far into her introductory speech.
The attractive Ash Angel avatar on the screen stopped midsentence, and then red bars surrounded the screen. “You have been placed on high-security detention. This room will remain locked until the proper security personnel can escort you to your destination.”
The first time he’d come to Deep 7, he’d been treated like a prisoner. He supposed this time he deserved it a little. Could they force him to stay here? He had no idea where Deep 7 actually was. Few Ash Angels did. But the place had to have a lid somewhere he could pop open and crawl out of.
He donned the blue jumpsuit and regulation boots and sat on the table where he had appeared a few minutes before. Goliath was probably in another room nearby. His stomach knotted a little every time he thought about how she had supported him and Aclima for the last few months only to get captured and detained by the organization she had served so faithfully for decades. It wasn’t fair.
Just when he started to wonder how long they would keep him in the room, the door slid open and four beefy Michaels in black fatigues greeted him with Big Blessed Guns pointed at his face. So his reputation had grown.
The lead guard pulled a pair of black restraints out of a holster and held them out. “Put these on.”
“Really, guys? Same team, here,” Helo said.
“Put them on or we’ll put them on you,” the guard replied.
Helo snatched them away and affixed them, using his teeth to pull the straps tight. He could Strength Bestowal his way out in a heartbeat, but the guards probably wanted that heartbeat so they could blast him to bits before he could try anything.
“Move out,” the lead guard ordered.
“You can stand down with the weapons,” Helo said as he crossed through the middle of them. “I’m not going anywhere.”
No one listened.
“Follow me,” the lead guard said, marching out front. After a couple of turns, they emerged into the common area. The glassy floors of the reception area gave way to the brown tile floors of the lobby, a gathering place straight out of an upscale hotel. About ten Ash Angels loitered around. All talk stopped, the news reports on the TV filling the silence. Helo kept his eyes forward; he didn’t need the weight of curious and accusing stares. Which brought up another question: What did the average Ash Angel know about what was going on with him and Aclima?
Helo crammed into the tube elevator with all his guards. The doors closed, and they all shot down to the main council chamber a level up from the bottom floor and the reliquarium where he had met with Rachel the Unascended so many months ago. The elevator doors opened, revealing the majestic statue of Michael the Archangel battling a dragon. The guards led him around the left side and into the opulent, domed room constructed of white marble, nickel-gilded walls etched with designs, and dark-walnut accents.
Goliath sat front and center on the first row at the bottom of a small incline, two guards seated in the row behind her. She twisted in her seat, face hard, lips in a line. She managed a half smile as the guards marched him down the ramp.
“Front and center,” the lead guard said.
Helo took a seat next to Goliath while the guards filled in around him.
“Heya, Helo,” Goliath said. “Fine mess, huh?”
“Sorry about this,” he said. “You should have stayed with Sicarius Nox. This was my mission.”
She ran a hand through her hair, which she had returned to her trademark pixie cut. “I’m a big girl, Helo. I do what I want to do, and I believe in what you’re trying to do. I understand the AAO’s position, though.”
Helo nodded. He did too, but it was wrong. They wanted to kill her when it was perfectly within their power to give her a chance to change. That’s what bugged him. With an angry yank, he flared his Strength and the restraints snapped apart.
He glanced over his shoulder at the guards behind him. “Oops.” Dead stares and guns pointed at his back was all the reply he got. Goliath patted his arm and grinned.
The door between two purple banners at the back of the dais opened, and the entire Archai filed out. Helo stood, as did Goliath and the guards. Grand Archus Gideon, Diarchus Joan, Archus Mars of the Michaels, Archus Ebenezer of the Scholus, Archus Lux of the Occulum, Archus Simeon of the Sanctus, and Archus Magdelene of the Gabriels.
What had happened to Archus Ramis? Archus Magdelene had been filling in for him in his absence when he, Aclima, and Goliath had gone on the run. Had they not found him, or had he been assigned elsewhere?
Grand Archus Gideon sat down, then everyone else took their seats. “Primus,” he said, “secure the room and create a tribunal record for Helo and Goliath.”
The door lock popped. “Room sealed. Tribunal records created,” Primus reported.
Helo scanned the faces of the Archai, trying to judge how much trouble he was in. With the exception of Archus Ebenezer, everyone before him had supported him during his early days as an Ash Angel. Now only Archus Simeon’s thoughtful expression lacked malice. Even Archus Magdelene and Archus Mars, the two who had seemed the most supportive, had eyes as hard as flint. Archus Lux looked ready to tear heads off—or cry. Had his running off with Aclima in an attempt to save her soul really inspired all this drama?
Grand Archus Gideon leaned forward, his penetrating gaze taking them both in. “I’ll just get right to it. Helo, Goliath, you have lost our trust. We’re used to giving a little latitude to Ash Angels, but the two of you have flouted discipline and command in matters that have grave consequences not only for Ash Angels but for the entire world. The Ash Angel Organization to which you have belonged has accomplished more in the scant decades of its existence to eradicate evil and increase the reach and effectiveness of Ash Angels than at any other point in history. This success has depended on the good faith and cooperation of those Ash Angels who join it. To say we are disappointed in what you have done is an understatement. Diarchus Joan, could you review our grievances, please?”
Helo cocked his head. Something about this whole thing seemed off.
Diarchus Joan lifted her tablet. “Disobeying command and killing Cain, depriving us of the opportunity to interrogate him. Disobeying command to detain the Dread Loremaster, Aclima. Assaulting members of Sicarius Nox in order to aid the escape of the Dread Loremaster Aclima. Aiding a Dread Loremaster in escaping the Ash Angel Organization.”
Archus Ebenezer’s sharp face bobbed up and down with each charge read. He and Archus Simeon had both morphed to an older age, Archus Ebenezer’s close-cropped beard and full head of gray hair lending him a seasoned, professorial look.
“Let’s not forget,” Ebenezer said, “that both Goliath and Helo neglected to inform command when Helo acquired the Visionary Bestowal. Or Helo’s penchant for going against the commands and wishes of his superiors in the field.”
“Thank you, Ebenezer,” Grand Archus Gideon said flatly. “Do you have anything to say in your defense, Helo? Goliath?”
Helo had plenty to say, but he had to know something first. “Look, I know you’re all pissed about me helping Aclima. But I’m not sorry for it. And I’ve got to ask, what’s happened?”
Archus Gideon cast a meaningful sideways glance at Diarchus Joan, but Archus Ebenezer jumped in before either could say anything. “You’ve got no right to know.”
Helo shrugged. “Have it your way. I don’t regret helping Aclima. She was an Ash Angel. She can be an Ash Angel again. I don’t regret killing Cain, either. I’m sure your interrogators are all top-notch, but they weren’t going to get anything useful out of Cain, and you know it.”
“What about you, Goliath? Do you wish to make any defense?” the Grand Archus asked.
“I think Helo’s trying to do the right thing,” she said. “He and Aclima grew close during their time together. To expect him to stand by while you exterminate her is ridiculous. He thinks Aclima’s wort
h saving. So do I. I’ve been with the AAO for decades, and I can’t figure out when doing the right thing became a crime.”
“We are doing the right thing,” Archus Ebenezer said. “Ending the Loremasters is absolutely the right thing. It will save countless lives.”
“Look,” Helo said. “Aclima’s not out to kill anyone or make Shedim. You can disagree with me. That’s fine. But are we done? Just kick me out of the AAO, and let’s all get on with our afterlives.”
“You can’t just walk out of here, son,” Archus Mars said. “You know that.”
The hell he couldn’t. “No, I don’t know that. You’ve got no right to keep me here.”
“I’m going to give it to you straight, soldier,” Mars said, brown eyes cold. “You’re the most powerful Ash Angel alive, maybe one of the most powerful who has ever lived. If you’re going to help us do what we need to do, kill Dreads, then we’re all square. But if you’re going to waste your time and your Bestowals on helping a Dread Loremaster, then, no, you aren’t going to leave here. We need someone who will help us do our job, not interfere with it. Things are bad enough without rogue Ash Angels getting in the way. I want to help you, Helo, but the mission comes first. Either help us, or we keep you in here until Aclima is dealt with.”
Were they serious? They were actually going to imprison him? The nagging feeling bit him again. Something about the tone of this tribunal felt off, like there was some monster hiding in a closet and they wouldn’t let him see it.
“I’m going to ask this again,” Helo said. “What happened?”
The Archuses all glanced at Grand Archus Gideon. “Very well,” he said. “While I agree that you have placed yourselves outside of the concerns of this organization, I can’t see that withholding this information will aid us in any way. You remember the Blank Massacre that occurred shortly before you awakened?”
“Yes,” Helo said.
“That was Cain plucking out one of our eyes,” Gideon continued. “There’s been another incident, this one directed against our Visionaries. You know we keep them in specific places, hidden and protected. We lost over half of them in one day and more Blanks in the same attack only two weeks ago. We suspect Avadan is behind it, but just as Goldbow was the source behind the first Blank Massacre, we suspect a highly placed source was behind this one.”
