“Then I will pray for your continued health.”
“I thank you, Power. Though I fear my wounds are slowly mortal.”
She took in a deep breath. “You know, you are in command, Virtue.”
She shook her head. “Not in this state. Your Yehppael tells me how effective a leader you are. We'll all be well served under your leadership.”
Yehppael put his hand on Tamael's shoulder as he passed to drop a stone in the pile, his wing brushing slightly against hers. How she had missed him.
Finally, a pathway was etched out, just large enough to allow them to pass. She personally helped the Virtue through, holding one end of the litter.
Of course. The grand staircase. The greatest artisans of Cibola had cured and engraved and polished the mighty, curving staircase that led down into the darkness. It had been beautiful once, they said. The humans had rubbed it dull with their passage. It was the archway heralding it that had recently collapsed, blocking their passage. They hurried down the stairs, not daring to fly, weary of further traps. But it appeared as if the last to pass through here were Ashia and her team on their mission to destroy the Spire.
“There was less damage when we were here before,” a Principality muttered.
“Time is like that,” Yehppael said as he picked his way around the ample boulder that had cracked and splintered the stairs. “Unforgiving.”
The sett was similar to the others, but it was obviously deeper. It had been a long time since Tamael had been in one of these. The air was cool, and the distant walls weren't stone, but blue ice like the glacial tips that had reached into their subterranean base.
“There,” Ashia said, pointing to a stout, shadowy building halfway swallowed by the wall of ice. It was the humans’ duty to maintain the sett. A few more cycles, and it would be completely gone. They wearily walked the few blocks, the buildings looming over them like monsters.
The sign over the entrance said “The Registry” in simple unassuming script. The building was short and fat, built to human standards, so some of them had to hunch over inside. The front door was gone, blasted away. Within was a waiting room of sorts, with a long wall of windows and small metal poles, most of them knocked over, for the purpose of corralling those waiting in line. No artwork adorned the gray walls. But the ground was stained red, as if the humans had set up a last stand here against the demons. But with no weapons, it must've been a massacre.
“What is this place?” Indigo asked.
“It's where you get your job,” a Principality said. “We have one of these in every sett. But this was the first. And the headquarters for the data.”
“The basement,” the Virtue pointed to another small stairwell hidden within a corner. “It is hidden well. Even those who worked here didn't know of its existence.”
Down they went, each one of their footsteps echoing. There were papers everywhere, mostly singed black, many stained red.
They came to a utility panel, and each of them went through one at a time. Ashia's litter had to be disassembled and slid through piece by piece. Inside, one of the thin temporary walls had already been removed, revealing a hollowed-out section of ice. Inside they went, sliding down a short way to a spacious cavern of blue, their light shimmering like crystals.
Several passageways branched away, each one carved in distinct diamond shapes. A few angels ran off down one in particular at Ashia's urging. This place was astonishing.
“I'm freezing my balls off,” Dave said, rubbing his hands against his arms.
“Aren't you from Alaska?” Indigo said.
“You have armor on. All I got is this crap robe,” he said.
A Principality offered him her own overcoat, which he gladly took. He still looked cold, but he stopped complaining.
“It's still here,” an angel exclaimed, running back from the diamond-shaped passageway, being careful not to fall. “The others are bringing it back.”
“What's still here?” Tamael asked.
“The sled,” Ashia said, coughing. “That is worrisome.”
Tamael didn't have to ask why. It had been over a cycle since they'd used the sled to come this way. If the angels had control of the ice core, then they'd surely have retrieved it.
“This system is so extensive,” Yehppael said. “Why hasn't it been exploited further? Who maintains it?”
Ashia turned to him. “It maintains itself mostly. Within, there is no moisture or climate change, so the passageways retain the needed shape to allow the sled to pass. It's only near the edges where there are problems. It's not utilized much because the first Choir forbade us from mapping it, and only a few know it well enough to get through.”
The “sled” was actually a very long, bladed vehicle that fit perfectly along the bottom half of the diamond-shape. Though there was room to seat one hundred angels, it could easily be pushed back and forward by just three, almost as if it was floating.
“Cool. It looks like a Viking longboat,” Dave said. “It needs one of those dragons at the head.”
“And water,” said Indigo. “How does this thing go?”
“You'll see,” said an angel, leaping into the wooden boat. Tamael lifted Indigo herself, pulling her within. Wooden slats ran across the interior, covered with a thick frost. At both ends was a single seat and steering mechanism. From the side jutted oars, like on the floating pleasure boats in one of the various parks around Cibola. One sat within the boat and pulled on the wooden oar to propel the vehicle. Tamael had never done it herself. Here, the oar ends caught on the edge of the ice with small metal tines.
After a quick lesson each sat in a seat, an equal number on each side with Ashia gently laid up front and a Principality at the helm. After a quick push by a pair of angels, the boat easily slid off down the dark tunnel. The spring-loaded oars attached to the ice. The movement was fluid and easy. Even the humans worked with no sign of strain. Soon, the boat was silently speeding along.
Though Tamael wished it would go faster. She kept expecting a sluagh of demons to come pouring from behind them, regurgitating down the hole like black death.
“This far underground, engines are unreliable,” a Principality explained when Tamael asked why the boat wasn't powered. “But there is one for emergencies.”
When they came to a branch in the path, the pilot eased them over. The sides scraped against the wall, sending a blue shower of ice that shimmered in the light of their helmets. Another time, and it would be beautiful.
Ashia weakly, but confidently, told them which way to turn. Virtues had the skill to memorize any path. They traveled within the Sphere, and they needed the ability to properly find the correct worlds. If Ashia passed out, or expired, they would have no way of knowing which way to go. This system was incredibly complicated. Perhaps the Spire of Jhunayn had been designed and built as a homage to this place.
Trapped in their underground base, Tamael had spent much time at the ice wall that penetrated into the cavern where they held their cabinet meetings. She liked to put her hand against it, feel the power it emanated.
They said it started with this hunk of ice, on which all of Cibola stood. It is the source of all light, the very backbone to existence. He created it, but it created Him as well, the eternal duality. From the ice came the demon worlds that exist below it, and from the ice sprouted the seedling of the Tree of Eternity. As the plant grew, its roots taking hold, the whole world burgeoned around it. Each living thing can be traced back to the great tree, even His physical form, which didn't come until after the tree was many cycles old—in fact, she was taught—time itself didn't exist until the first sign of sprout erupted from the ice.
Even the first sparks of light within the Sphere were formed using seeds from the tree. He may have actually created the Sphere, but the tool in which the humans were created was the tree. The angels, too, were made with the bark.
The demon worlds were formed in the voids created by the ice. They came after the Tree of Eternity sprou
ted, but when they began to thrive was a mystery known not to her. They had their own geography and life, but they existed despite the light created by the ice, not because of it. The how and why was far beyond Tamael's understanding, but it was the fatal difference between the two communities, the reason why they would never be able to live in harmony. The True Light, the power in which the angels lived and breathed, was fatal to the demons. And for the angels, the Absolute Darkness did the same.
“We have no choice but to hate each other,” Tamael whispered, watching the light dance through the icy hallways. They'd been traveling for a long while now, having made more than a hundred turns.
It was arrogant of them, she thought. To use this place. Any other time, and she'd think it beyond disrespectful, like a spoiled child ruining her father's hard work just to get her way. But they had no other choice.
“Full brake!”
Tamael pushed the oars outward, like they had been taught. The boat lurched to a stop, the wood groaning. Cold ice showered around them. The human Dave tumbled forward from his seat, quickly pulled up again by Indigo. In front of them was nothing but a dark wall.
“What happened?” Tamael snapped.
“The tunnel is caved in,” the pilot said. “Completely.”
“So much for it maintaining itself,” Dave muttered.
“Ashia,” Tamael asked. “How do we get around?”
The barely opaque form struggled up. “There's no way around. This is the only path off the peninsula.”
Yehppael came forward, his visor raised to reveal his intense eyes. “What do we do?”
Tamael thought for a moment. “Ashia, where can we go from here?”
The Virtue sighed. “There are hundreds of ports on this side, but I don't know the current status of any.”
“The Tower,” Yehppael said. “Can we get there?”
Tamael looked sharply at him. By all estimates the Tower, located at the top of the peninsula was right in the heart of demon territory. Surely that would be the last place they'd want to go.
“Yes,” said Ashia. “In fact, we're very close.”
Tamael looked into Yehppael's eyes. “Why?”
He shook his head. “The human boy, he said we needed to go there. I didn't think much of it at the moment, but here we are with no other options. He was the one who properly located those trapped within the Spire. He has an ability, one I don't understand.”
Tamael thought about it for a long moment. Gramm had been right before. He knew of places he had no reason to know of. Very likely, he was dead, but maybe this had been his last task. To lead them to this place.
“Yes,” she said. “Take us there.”
* * * *
Gramm awakened naked and in a cage, swinging slowly from the ceiling. His whole body cried with a thousand points of pain, like he had been rolled down a hill stuffed in a barrel of thumbtacks. The room smelled of a urinal at a football stadium, and it was cold. He was in darkness, and it took several moments to see.
He tried to turn, and with horror, he realized his foot was spiked to the base of the cage. His flesh, so eager to heal at a supernatural rate, had grown up the dirty black metal, like it was trying to swallow it. His foot didn't hurt—it was the only part of his body that didn't—but only because it was numb.
Gramm remembered most of what had happened, but he had no idea how he had gotten here.
Most the angels had moved out of the way it seemed. All but Leefa. But he didn't know for sure. Dave made it into the hole, and Indigo was also safely within the sett, but Hitomi and the angry-looking angel holding her were trapped outside, along with four other Principalities and the large angel who had been controlling the drones. Two of the Principalities were injured, one of them badly.
The razer, the giant monster who had caused the platform to collapse in the first place, was now halfway down the block, its giant eye facing away.
The Power holding Hitomi dropped her next to Gramm.
“Are you okay?” Gramm asked her.
“I think so,” she said. She clutched her periscepter to her chest. She looked up. “Indigo? Dave?”
“They both made it.”
She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.
“Dear God,” an angel said—one of the Principalities; her voice fearful. “What do we do now?”
Gramm wiped the dust from his robe and looked up nervously at the smoky red sky. Only part of the zoo had collapsed. The rest looked like it was deciding on whether or not it would crumble. “We need to get out of here.”
After he said it, he realized that meant abandoning any hope of getting back to Indigo and Dave. It also meant going in the wrong direction. But his immediate concern was with keeping himself and Hitomi alive.
“I am in charge now,” the Power who had been holding Hitomi said.
“Under what authority?” the engineer angel asked, his voice incredulous.
“I am of the highest rank here. In both caste and grade,” the Power said, stepping forward so they were almost nose to nose. “I don't see what the problem is.”
The engineer laughed. “The problem is you disgust me,” he said, spitting the words. “You are nothing but a hypocrite and a murderer. I would sooner clip myself than follow you.”
“That's Polsh,” Hitomi whispered, indicating the engineer who looked like he was about to splatter the brains of the other one all over the street. “He's the friendliest one. The egomaniac is Verdan. He's a real jerk. They said he murdered the Hashmallim.”
“Gentlemen!” Gramm cried out. “We don't have time for this.” He pointed at the rock in the sky.
“Come then,” Verdan said. “We will withdraw.” He hesitated, then scooped up Hitomi.
“Deeper into the city,” a Principality suggested. “I know this area well. We can find temporary refuge in one of the empty buildings.”
“Suits me fine,” Verdan growled, giving one last acid glare at Polsh as they took off, flying low and hugging the buildings, careful to avoid the blocks with the beasts.
They were only flying for a few moments when the blast came. It wasn't burning or fiery. It was just loud, louder than anything he had ever known, and the intense pressure began to build and build inside his head until he felt something pop, and his hearing washed away.
Gramm cried in silence, looking for the others, for Hitomi, but they were all gone.
No, he thought, this isn't what was supposed to happen.
He couldn't breathe, like a hand was reaching down his throat and tearing at anything it could find. He fell, lost from the grip of the angel. They were only a few feet off the ground, but the impact hurt all the same. Gramm ricocheted off the street, like a well-thrown rock skipping off a pond, and flew straight through the glass window of a building. And then he couldn't move at all.
He was in a shop of some sort. Whatever had been sold once was gone, the shelves ripped from the walls and plundered. His feet half stuck out of the window, and his face pressed hard against the rock floor, his arms splayed wildly. The cold ground smelled faintly of fish. Gramm tried flipping himself over, but he couldn't. His body wasn't his anymore.
His ears, plunged into absolute silence, ached. But after some time, the silence evolved to a ring that rose in volume until it buzzed like a dentist's drill. Sometimes this quick healing could be a curse, he thought. Whatever the demons had done, it had immobilized him and the others without leveling the city. Some sort of sonic artillery, probably aimed at the beasts.
He still couldn't move, not yet. He had to find Hitomi and the others once the pain went away. His leg tingled now, the wounds from the glass closing up.
But Gramm was tired, terribly so, and it just made sense to close his eyes.
* * * *
They reversed the ice sled, eventually choosing another route. Soon, they came to a chamber not unlike the one they had started in, but much larger. Several weapons lockers lined the walls. The doors were open on many, showing them to be empty.
“It was a staging area,” Ashia whispered to Tamael as they alighted.
Tamael nodded. After the human rebellion, extra steps had to be taken in order to ensure future riots, ones more organized, could be easily quelled. She glanced at Indigo and Dave. Neither seemed to notice the intention of this room. It would serve no purpose to tell them.
“We're directly below the Tower.” Ashia indicated a wide panel bolted into the high ceiling. “It opens into the lowest utility level of the Tower, just one level below the human areas of the Athenaeum. From there, we can exit into a capacious sett or continue upwards.”
“Do you know how the Tower is utilized by demons? Is it heavily patrolled?”
Ashia shook her head. “I don't know. The demon scientists are here, we know. They must use the library. And they study the Sphere, I'm sure.”
No one truly knew how high the Tower reached. If one went too high, even while within the Tower, he would come to a point where he could go no further, almost like a mental wall whose height was dictated by caste. Only the Ophanim and Seraphim could reach the uppermost heights. Even a Cherub couldn't go past the living area of the Seraphim.
They prepared the door for the storming of the lower tier. There were camera attachments that would allow one to spy within the room, but no one had the proper equipment to get it to function. If Polsh was here, he'd likely have it working, Tamael mused.
“Got your helmet?” Yehppael teased as they prepared themselves. Ashia, set back in case a firefight erupted, had laid out the room for them. It was a long, dusty room with a low ceiling, filled with several columns to support the endless tower above.
Tamael set the Powers on the perimeter, the Principalities in the center. All had their guns ready. Iopol had Dave and a Power whose name she didn't know had Indigo. Each were to blast and sweep their lights upon entrance to the room.
“Why are we doing this again?” a Principality muttered just before she gave the order. She resisted the urge to smack him with the butt of her gun.
“Open,” Tamael said.
The two doors split apart. Books and dust showered down on them as they leapt into the air. The rooms lit with periscepter light as each of them desperately searched for a target. But there was nothing to greet them but swirling dust and piles of books. Indigo swept the light back and forth again. She was improving vastly. The room was clear.
The Shivered Sky Page 31
