Angela could barely see. Even Israfel disappeared, and it was obvious he was in no position to rescue her. She was alone. The Glaive collapsed in her weak hands to a puddle that trickled down her arms.
Her entire body moaned with the pain of hitting the ground so hard. Her head spun. Lucifel’s face was a blur and her eyes burned like embers. Her face had twisted to a horrific mask of grief. Was it because she’d seen the Father, the supposed Creator whom she loved, dead again? Was it because of Israfel’s condition? Maybe no one would ever know. With lightning-quick ferocity, the angel’s fingers clutched at Angela’s skin, and wherever bare skin happened to be Lucifel tore at it, screaming.
Angela screamed with her. There had never been a pain within her like this one. Fire shot through every inch of her nerves. Warmth gushed from every split and gash in her skin.
This pain, this pain. She was being torn apart again and could do nothing to stop it.
Still, Lucifel hovered overhead, her eyes bright with ferocity. As the Devil’s wings beat the air powerfully, the blue souls danced out in space, some of them suddenly descending to swarm down around Lucifel as if to stop her. She took as much heed of them as dust in the air.
Angela’s sight threatened to leave her. Lucifel shrieked something else at her, but she couldn’t hear it for a while—there was just too much pain. She could make out the words Father and love but nothing else of meaning.
Then, it was all over. The tornado of terror and blood ceased.
Lucifel stood up over Angela, her lips trembling with more grief and rage. She kicked Angela savagely in the chest.
Ripples of pain exploded through Angela again.
She gasped. Her brain fogged and churned. Everything was agony and torment. Was Angela bleeding to death at last? She lifted a trembling hand and found it covered in rivers of azure liquid. She tried to move her legs, but couldn’t.
Her bones must have broken. Certainly the odd sensation in her arms was because even more splinters of bone poked through her skin. A dull crackling signaled her efforts to move.
“Now,” Lucifel whispered, her voice sounding so far away. “Time to finish everything.”
She knelt down by Angela and plunged her hands into a gaping wound in Angela’s leg, emerging with blue blood cupped in her palms. It streaked Lucifel’s skin like paint. “All I need now,” she whispered more, “is Sophia. The Archon is such a waste, a joke. Raziel was wrong.” Her voice choked away with more grief. “This is the best and only path. No more pain, sadness, or worry to come. Existence will simply be existence. Nothing more. We don’t need anything but silence from this point on, and an end to the cycle of sorrows.”
Angela tried to remonstrate with her.
That was impossible. Her voice no longer worked. She croaked, sensing warm blood bubbling up her throat.
Lucifel examined her coldly and then turned, letting the blue blood in her hands solidify with sparks of her own aura. A brilliant red glow outlined her entire body as a weapon resembling the Glaive took shape and glittered. “Oh, Raziel, Raziel,” Lucifel whispered. “It was all such a mistake. Your gentleness blinded you. Why didn’t you listen to me? Well . . .” Lucifel closed her unbearable eyes for a moment. “Now, I will be the new God. In memory of Him. I know what’s best. Yes . . . no more rot, love, and death.”
Lucifel advanced on Angela, though the rifts in space around them were growing wider. Most shone a beautiful pearlescent color, as if suggesting worlds of beauty and light existed behind them. Around them, the shining souls danced and dived in whirlwinds of beauty.
Angela, Angela, a warm, concerned, male voice seemed to say from somewhere nearby. Angela struggled to keep her eyes open.
Kim’s handsome face appeared above her like a dream. His amber eyes reflected back all the light she was sure she’d lost forever. His ghost took her hand, pressing it to his cheek. Tears poured down his transparent but beautiful face. An hourglass pendant hanging from his neck had run out of sand. Yes, he whispered. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead. That’s it. Look at me. You can’t give up now.
“Where are you?” Angela tried to say, but only a croak actually left her. “Why . . . can I see you now?”
I’ve been by your side since I died. Now all you have to do is call me. Call the people who care about you and who are on your side. And we will help you, Angela. You don’t have to do this alone. You’re not meant to save everyone alone, remember? The Angelus must be sung by more mouths than yours now if anything is to change.
“Call you. I just have to call you,” Angela whispered back brokenly. Angela’s heart struggled to keep beating. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t.
But Kim couldn’t really be here. She was dreaming him because she was dying.
Yet if that was true—why wasn’t she seeing Sophia? Perhaps it was best she wasn’t here to watch Angela perish so miserably, to see all their shared dreams die in a messy sea of Angela’s blood. Angela was so close to failing. But instead of her death instigating a new cycle of time as it had in the past, Lucifel would silence existence.
Call me, Kim’s voice reminded her. Call us . . .
Angela’s mind fuzzed over. “Where are you?” she whispered. “All the souls . . . who want to live in this world? Where are you?”
Now she knew for certain—Lucifel had never meant for Angela to get this far. It had never been part of the plan, and she was scared and on edge. She stood over Angela like a living shadow, eyeing Angela cautiously, and then something caught Lucifel’s attention.
She looked up.
Souls were erupting into the ether of the Nexus in a sheer flood, even compared to the souls who had already broken through the barrier of the walls. The souls streaked for Lucifel and Angela, swirling around them in a twister of pulsing bluish light.
They danced and swarmed around Angela like a trillion azure fireflies, melding into her veins and skin, becoming one with her blood, healing her from the inside out. The Nexus brightened and burned to a pulsing whiteness. A galaxy of souls spread their arms out into the vastness of the voids, shining like newborn stars. They avoided the rifts growing around them, but they never stopped dancing.
Angela’s limbs could move again. She sat up, suddenly able to feel her legs.
Angela broke from her trance as life returned to her.
Lucifel drew back. She narrowed her eyes, examining the glowing sphere-shaped souls that drifted and bobbed around them in a whirl of stars and glowing snow. And all around them, the other dimensional rifts, like holes between the space of creation, widened. There were so many, yet none were as pulsing, horrid, and dark as the Nexus had become. Instead, they shone softly like a full moon. The light exuded an overwhelming aura of peace.
Different songs erupted through the holes, as sweet as the Angelus.
Then, one strange hole appeared near the Father’s dead body. It held no song. It held no light. There was nothingness beyond it, as dreadful and absolute as what their own universe might become if Angela didn’t do something fast.
Abruptly, Israfel’s wings stiffened and he leaned forward as if listening. His lined sea-blue eyes turned toward Angela, and an endless grief and longing broke his androgynous beauty. He clutched his stomach, sighing in horror.
What was he thinking?
I know what he’s thinking. I can hear his heartbeat. I know that look. THAT LOOK THAT MEANS HE’S GOING TO DIE.
“Angela!” a familiar voice said.
A soul hovered near Angela and took shape. It was Camdon Willis, Nina’s dead half brother who’d lost his life to Python. Stephanie Walsh, the blood head witch of Luz who had tormented Angela, stood next to him, staring at Lucifel resolutely. More souls took shape, gazing at the Supernal angrily. They were all set on the Devil. They were all of one purpose. They sided with Angela. No one wanted to have their minds, feelings, and hearts erased.
Lucifel searched them.
She turned to Angela now, but didn’t bother to smile. “You ir
ritating bitch,” she hissed.
Lucifel’s own Glaive hadn’t disappeared, and now she swung it lethally right at Angela’s head.
Angela had no time to stop Israfel from shoving her aside.
He flew toward her, his great wings like white banners, and their weight connected.
Angela hit the floor hard, crying out with the pain, sliding dangerously close to the Father’s corpse and the black and ugly rift that had manifested like a disease among the others.
Israfel collapsed beside her, a gruesome slash blossoming right across his chest and his left wing. Blood poured out of him. He tried to stand up, slipped, and tried again. He clutched at his stomach, gritted his teeth, and seemed to suck up all the hellish pain that must have overwhelmed him, and this time he actually stood for a second before crumpling to the ground in a heap.
Lucifel’s mouth gaped open in shock. Her weapon collapsed, running down her arms.
She looked at her hands in surprise, and rage twisted her face. Without more of Angela’s blood, she couldn’t make another weapon.
Lucifel cursed viciously under her breath. She thrust out her hand, and a blast of crackling red energy flew straight for Angela.
Angela ducked, and that was all the distraction Lucifel needed to be upon her again. But this time something had changed. Angela didn’t need her blood to make the Glaive anymore. Energy thrummed through her entire body. Voices whispered to her as they had from the Mirror Pools—the voices of innumerable souls crying out to her, to save her.
Help me, she thought frantically. Let’s do this together!
Hundreds of souls converged on Angela again. Their brilliant blue light solidified into a new Glaive that Angela clasped quickly between her aching hands. She caught Lucifel’s chest with the pointed edge, pierced halfway through the angel’s muscle and bone, and twisted around, thrusting Lucifel backward into the empty rift behind them.
Lucifel snagged the blade with her hands at the last moment. She held on, anything to stop what they both knew was her fate.
But the souls that made the Glaive decided to disperse. Light exploded around Angela and Lucifel in a sea of blinding silver.
Angela flew backward onto the ground. Lucifel also fell backward out of reach.
Angela jumped to her feet, and her eyes cleared in time to see the Destroyer Supernal staring at her in disbelief from where Lucifel floated in the frightening void beyond the rift. Lucifel gave one last lingering look at the Father’s dead body before a throbbing but silent blackness took her. Tendrils of smokelike ether smothered her and grasped at her like the tentacles of some terrifying octopus.
Her hand escaped the void a final time, grasping for Angela maniacally.
Then, with one final and horrific cry, the Devil disappeared, sucked away into a universe of death and nothingness, just like the one she’d worked so hard to create.
Thirty-three
Angela stared at the rift where Lucifel had vanished.
Quickly, she backed away from it to a safe distance, still horrified by the throbbing darkness. Her ankles brushed against one of Israfel’s half-broken wings.
“Oh no, oh no,” Angela whispered. She knelt by Israfel’s side and looked him over hastily. One of his four large wings had nearly been sliced in half. His chest was one big wound, and his eyes bled steadily.
He’s dying. There’s no way he can lose so much blood and still live.
With tears blurring her vision, Angela grabbed Israfel’s wings and, despite feeling as weak as a gnat, dragged him away from the Father’s dreadful corpse to the center of the room, directly underneath an octagonal opening to the bleak space outside. Israfel gasped with pain and stared up into the opening, his face paling as he seemed to remember something. “This was where I was,” he whispered, “when I first opened my eyes to the stars . . .”
Angela knelt beside him again and grabbed his creamy-white hand.
Israfel turned to her, and his gaze, so vacant since she first saw him again, cleared. He looked at Angela as if seeing her for the first and only time. “I was wrong about everything,” he said, his voice still enchanting and musical despite growing weaker and fainter. “I thought I could save this universe myself. I thought you and I—together—could be its new deity. But now I see . . . I only wanted to believe there was a reason for what I suffered.” Israfel pressed a hand against his stomach. “You can understand what kind of creature I am, right? You’ve lived your life in a world that doesn’t allow for difference.” Israfel lifted a shaking hand and touched Angela’s red hair. “Now . . . I will take the child within me into death. It is much better for me to pass away . . . as my siblings have done. The old order must come to an end . . .”
“You . . .” Angela tried to wish away the tears in her eyes. All she could remember was dancing with Israfel in Luz, in that decaying old church, with feathers falling around them like snow. “You can bear children . . . so you’re not just a male?”
That explained his strange beauty. Every time Angela had looked at Israfel, he appeared different. Perhaps he merely reflected the desires of whoever set their eyes on him.
“The Father did this to me . . .” Israfel whispered, indicating the infant inside him. His voice was almost inaudible. “And I killed him. It was my last chance at escape. And at the time, I truly believed . . . it was the only way to reach you and save what was left of this broken universe. And as I said . . . I now know I was wrong.”
Angela didn’t know what to say. She thought of the kiss Israfel had shared with her so long ago. He’d been tasting her soul, and she’d wondered at the odd attraction between them.
Now it all made sense.
It’s because he’s a part of me—of the old me that no longer exists.
He’s all that’s left of what Heaven used to be. And he’s dying.
“I deserved the cruelest justice for my sins,” Israfel said so softly. “Have I paid enough? Tell me . . . have I now been redeemed?”
He looked at Angela beseechingly.
Angela closed her eyes. She couldn’t talk. It even took a while to realize she was crying.
“Raziel,” Israfel said. His voice was now faint as a dream. His fingers slid slowly—so slowly—out of Angela’s red hair. “Do you see? There is no more pain. My heart no longer bleeds anymore . . .”
Silence descended. Angela opened her eyes, ready for the worst.
Israfel no longer moved or breathed. His eyes had glazed over.
Angela shook him by his slender shoulders, and Israfel’s body jostled. Feathers dropped from his wings. But he was dead, and Angela let out a low moan, shaking him harder as if that could change the truth. “Wake up,” she said, all the pain in her pouring out at once. “Wake up! You can’t die—you can’t—”
Angela let out a wild cry and flung herself off him. She collapsed sobbing into her arms, embraced by the ice-cold floor. The rifts continued to widen around her. Everything had now tipped into utter destruction. The time she had left to change the outcome of the recurring tragedy was vanishing fast.
This is my chance to bring about a revolution. What am I waiting for?
But Angela knew what she was waiting for. There was a good chance she would never leave this place, and the idea had suddenly paralyzed her.
It was very clear she’d survived the way in, and would never survive the way out even if she cured the world of all its ills, and she’d never considered that possibility until now.
Did Angela want to be alone forever?
She pushed up on her elbows, watching the rifts grow and grow.
No. This is what I came for. Besides, I’m not alone.
Angela clasped the glittering white sapphire Sophia had given her and looked up and around at the beautiful souls dancing. Angela’s eyes burned and she reached out with all the power within her own soul, calling to those who would listen. Fear worked against her like a relentless current, tugging her back to shore. What if she really never saw Sophia ever again? Nin
a and Troy and Juno would never know what had happened to her either. But as Angela thought this, more souls and light raced toward her in countless glorious streaks, and she finally made her choice—she welcomed them with uplifted arms.
An infinite number of suns could have exploded in her chest.
All the heat and light in the universe condensed within her, down into something small enough to be the most brilliant star.
Her human life passed before her in every shade of happiness and sadness, and behind every memory Sophia’s face seemed to shine as if she’d been watching Angela all along.
All I’ve ever wanted was to be a normal human girl. All I can imagine is being with Sophia and Kim and Nina. Everyone deserves the happiness they’ve earned. I can’t take that away from them, allowing the home that is our universe to disappear. I can’t push aside the dream of countless souls burning within me. The new Angelus is there, warming my blood, right now. I guess all I have to do is share it for the first time.
The burning sensation in Angela’s chest grew almost unbearable.
She closed her eyes and listened to her heartbeat and then deeper to the hum of blood in her veins. There. She could hear it. A song.
Help me, everyone. This isn’t Ruin. This is change. It’s Revolution. Let’s work with what we have. Let’s make the choice together.
At last, the words of the new Angelus found their way to her lips. Angela couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth. The final remnants of fear held her back, and then she opened her eyes a final time and saw Kim’s soul reaching for hers with a confident smile. He leaned down and embraced her as the light took over and swallowed them completely.
Hoping for the best, she sang.
PART FIVE
Revolution
The Cycle of Time Has Ended
Every last promise must be kept.
Thirty-four
LUZ THE CATACOMBS
Angelus Page 29
