The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

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The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Page 44

by Stephanie Erickson


  He winces. “I have given you everything. I gave you the powers you have, and yet you turn them against me?”

  “Horse shit,” she says. As if on cue, a collective gasp rings throughout the room. “Oh, get over yourselves,” she says. “I learned most of these skills on my own, without any help from You or anyone.”

  Then she does the unthinkable. She spits at the feet of God. “At any rate, I don’t care about that. You can have my powers, or whatever you want to call them. You took away my mother, my grandmother, my husband. I’m not letting you take my baby.”

  Michaela shifts in discomfort. She’s already taken Mara’s son to heaven. And Mara doesn’t know.

  God looks our direction and makes eye contact with Michaela. She smiles softly at Him; he nods in return, as if thanking her for the part she’s played.

  “Your son is already home. He’s with his father and grandparents now.”

  An otherworldly scream fills the room. It starts out low, growing until I’m forced to cover my ears. Michaela jumps to standing; she looks like she’s ready to leap over the seats to face the human. We’ve all seen what Mara can do, and now she really has nothing to lose.

  God doesn’t so much as fidget as Mara continues to shriek. As the sound goes on, something shocking happens. The Guardian directly behind her starts to glow. The cracks in his skin blaze brighter and brighter until he explodes. Black shards go flying everywhere.

  When I turn to look at Michaela, she’s already three rows down from us. I can’t see how she’s doing it, but she’s scaling the rows. She’ll never make it to the bottom, but I can see she wants to try.

  Two other Guardians explode, one after another, and flaming shrapnel hits a few of the angels down front. Chaos is starting to unfold. At least twenty Archangels flood the floor, racing to help the demons get the human under control, but my eyes are on Michaela. She’s jumped to the second tier of seating at this point and is making her way closer to the bottom.

  Through it all, God sits calmly at his desk, not reacting to the chaos unfolding around Him.

  It’s hard to see from this distance, but I swear Mara’s eyes have turned red, as if the flames within her soul are about to come pouring out. She’s opening her mouth again—for another shriek?—as Michaela makes her way down the first tier. My friend has nearly reached the floor when Mara spews actual fire at the remaining three Guardians.

  The Hunters have turned with their backs to God, as if to protect Him, although I can’t imagine that’s their primary purpose. The Guardians scramble, trying to maintain their tenuous grasp on the upper hand.

  Suddenly, I’m struck by the odd scene unfolding in front of me. Never before have I seen angels and demons fight a common enemy. Together. Mara’s evil is so absolute, even the demons know she’s bad news.

  Panic suddenly takes hold of me. Michaela’s down there with that woman who has singlehandedly destroyed so many heavenly beings.

  “Michaela,” I scream at the top of my lungs, but she’s much too far away to hear me. I lurch forward, but Horatia grabs hold of my arm.

  “It’s too late,” she shouts above the noise.

  Souls are scattering, no longer interested in what happens to this woman. They just want out, away from their potential doom, and I don’t really blame them. The scene unfolding in front of us is unprecedented.

  “Mara!” Michaela’s voice pierces its way through the racket, and my stomach lurches. She is standing on the floor just behind the human, with flames roaring all around her. In fact, I think the bottom of her gown is ablaze. The need to call out to her, to help her, to stomp out her fiery hem is almost unbearable. I don’t want to watch her disintegrate. I can’t bear to witness that. But I also can’t tear my eyes away from her.

  Mara turns around slowly. She’s breathing heavily, and I can tell her rage has not been satisfied. I wonder if there’s even anything left of the human I created so long ago.

  Everyone who’s still in the room stops and stares at her, captivated by her mania.

  “You,” she says, her iron-capped hands dangling by her sides. “You’re the one responsible for taking my son, aren’t you?”

  Michaela stands up straighter. Without taking her eyes off Mara, she says, “Yes, I am.” Despite the fact that she didn’t shout it, her answer echoes around the room.

  “And now you’ve come here for what? To see the end of me? Or to see the end of you?” Her tone is sinister, but Michaela doesn’t shy away.

  “No,” I breathe, and Horatia grabs my hand so tightly her nails dig into my palm.

  Mara’s smile is a sickening promise of death, destruction, and pain, but Michaela doesn’t shy away from her. I’m watching them so closely that I almost miss the Hunter that is creeping up behind Mara. He reaches around in front of her and slaps a piece of black iron over her mouth. It clamps shut in the back and trails a fiery chain similar to the ones draped over her body.

  “That’s enough out of you,” the Hunter says. He shifts his gaze to Michaela. “You owe me one.”

  Michaela can only look up at the huge demon and nod. I can’t believe she faced one of those alone in hell and won. She still has yet to tell me that whole story. I remind myself to ask her about it when this is finally over.

  Michaela turns to face God with what’s left of the demons. The angels are battered, but they stand tall with her. Angels and demons move closer together, as if they are comrades. I suppose in this one instance, they are.

  God sighs, and the weight of the disappointment emanating from Him is crushing. I almost don’t have the will to bring my eyes up to Mara.

  “You leave me with no choice, Mara,” He says, still not looking at her. When He finally raises His eyes, I know this is it. In slow motion, I watch him look down at her as he lowers his gavel. “You are sentenced to extinction.”

  Simultaneous roars and gasps erupt in the room, making it hard to know if God said anything else.

  Never, in all my centuries as a Fate, have I heard of such a thing. Even Hitler went to hell. This is beyond anything I’ve ever expected, but after seeing her in action just now, I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m not sure they could contain her in hell. Sure, they’d love the challenge, but if she got away from them, we’d be right back where we started, maybe worse.

  When the commotion dies down, God speaks again. “You, Mara, will not be granted a home in heaven with your son. Nor will you be allowed to continue on in hell. Instead, you will cease to exist.”

  The demons raise their voices in outrage. “You’re stealing her from us,” one of the Hunters shouts in a booming voice.

  “She belongs to us,” the second Hunter adds.

  “While that would be true under normal circumstances, I’m sorry to say this case is unique.”

  A small Guardian steps forward, moving between Mara and God. “Perhaps if you separate her from her body, she would be more manageable, if you get my meaning.”

  The demon makes an interesting proposition.

  “Why not try it?” he continues. “If it doesn’t work, you can still eliminate her, no harm done.”

  God is silent for a few moments, seeming to consider the option. “No,” he finally says. “I will not endanger more of my creations. Not even you, Guardian. Mara is beyond any of us. Even me. This ends here and now.”

  With His word, she slowly begins to fade. Her eyes grow wide with surprise, but there is nothing she can do. With her mouth covered by the metal band, we don’t even hear her scream. She just becomes more and more opaque, until she isn’t there at all.

  Twenty Two

  Michaela

  I don’t believe it. She disappeared right before my eyes. Despite the fact that I’ve seen her destroy plenty of heavenly beings that way, it’s awful to see it happen to a human, a live, flesh and blood creature. But then I think of what she did to Webber and reconsider.

  My heart is broken for everyone we’ve lost since all this started. But just as my knees are about
to give out, depositing me in the very spot where she disappeared, God addresses me.

  “Michaela. Diligence. Your work is not yet done.” I’m torn between screaming at Him and taking strength from His words. Haven’t I done enough?

  I did ask to be the one to free the remaining prisoners from hell. Ryker agreed to my request, and I can’t back down now, particularly not from His commands. Even though I want to collapse into a weeping puddle in the middle of this room, surrounded by demons, I straighten my back, stiffen my bottom lip, and nod.

  With a simple tilt of my head, I turn and walk out of the room. Although I just walked in a few minutes ago, I’m somehow a different woman. I’m stronger, but more broken too. It’s a strength I will need to cling to for the journey ahead, back into hell.

  Penn, Horatia, and Galenia meet me at the door. They are ready too. I can’t tell them no. They’re in this as much as I am. They deserve to see this through to the end, especially Penn. He needs this.

  Together, we head to the black gate. With any luck, this will be the last time we make this trip as a group.

  At first, we don’t talk, but after a while, I can’t take the silence anymore. “I can’t believe she just disappeared like that.”

  “It’s no more than she deserved,” Penn says as we make our way across the clouds. There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice. He’s frowning deeply as he stomps toward the black gate, which hasn’t even appeared yet.

  Before I can respond, he changes his tune. His expression softens. “I’m not sure I mean that. I do…but then again, I don’t. I guess you were right. I’m glad I didn’t have to be the one to decide her fate.”

  He doesn’t look at me when he says it, just keeps walking on ahead.

  I hang back far enough so Penn can’t hear us and wrap my arms around Horatia and Galenia. “What’s wrong with him?” I whisper.

  “Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Horatia answers mysteriously.

  Galenia smiles at me and offers a little more. “Now that this is over, or at least almost over, the full gravity of everything that’s happened is hitting him. He was so focused on reacting, I don’t think he let himself fully understand what had been taken from Andrew and Kismet and the others. I think he’s feeling angry right now.”

  “Well, that much is clear.” He’s stomping off to the left, but he’s headed in the wrong direction. I let him go a little further as the black gates form in front of me. He needs to bleed off some of his anger before we go into a place that feeds on that emotion.

  I don’t try to comfort him. There’s nothing I can say. My own heart is tired too. But the finish line is in sight; it’s just behind the black gates. Penn hasn’t noticed they’ve materialized yet. He’s still pacing around near the edge of the mists.

  “Do you think we should call him over?” Horatia asks as we hesitate at the gate, waiting for our wayward Fate.

  “No. Let him work through it,” I say, watching him. His head is down, and he’s kicking at something invisible. “It’s reaching its peak.” It will boil over soon; I can feel it.

  And it does. He cries out, his screams swallowed by the mists, and falls to his knees. When I reach him, there are tears streaming down his face. His sisters are there too, but he’s looking at me.

  “After this, I’ll never see her again.”

  His broken heart is pulverizing mine, and I go to my knees in front of him, taking his hands in mine. Tears stream down my own face, until we’re both just a couple of blubbering idiots at the edge of the mists. I’m thankful no one is coming or going at the moment.

  He holds out his arms to me and I fall into them, savoring the warmth that surrounds me. In that moment, we are broken together. And maybe our broken pieces can be put back together to make something new when this is all over. That hope gives me the strength to stand up. He follows, never letting go of my hand.

  “Let’s go,” he says, taking Horatia’s hand in his free one. She nods and links hands with Galenia. Our chain of heavenly souls marches toward the black gate more confidently than the last two times we crossed this threshold together.

  “Ryker sent emissaries ahead of us. It should be easy this time. No fuss. No muss.” I’m saying it for myself as much as I’m saying it for them.

  No one is waiting for us at the gate, which doesn’t surprise me. We don’t have a scheduled delivery, after all. Once we’re all on the other side, we stand there for a moment, steeling ourselves to face whatever’s ahead. I don’t imagine it will be anything like the death-defying journey Penn and I faced the last time we were here, but it’s still not something I would choose to do. Being in hell is just that—it’s hell.

  So, after taking a deep breath, I start walking toward the prison.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’d like to get in and out of here as quickly as possible.” I don’t look back to see if they’re following me. I know they are.

  But we don’t get very far. A group of demons is waiting for us.

  “Well, hello. We meet again.” It’s the same demon who took Webber. I bristle.

  “Hello. What can I do for you?”

  “We thought we’d have a little celebration here in hell. The human was destroyed, and we’re about to lose three other inmates to you folks, but why not live it up, huh? Would you like to join us?” His voice is sinister, and his words don’t give me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

  “Thank you for your generosity, but I think we’ll just collect the souls from their prison and go.” I try to push past him, but he won’t let me.

  “Now, now, Reaper. We’re trying to show you some hospitality. Don’t be so quick to reject it.” His tone changes to a warning on that last sentence, giving me goose bumps.

  “I was assured we would be allowed safe entry and passage. Are you purposefully delaying us?”

  “What?” He puts a hand on his chest, feigning injury. “Why, we simply thought you might like some respite, maybe some refreshments, after such a difficult few days. No one can party like us demons.”

  “I believe you on that one,” Horatia says, just loud enough for us to hear her.

  The demon looks at her and smiles. “I remember you. The fast learner. I take it you don’t trust me?”

  She snorts, and he smiles wider. “Rightfully so,” he says before turning back to me. “Listen, Reaper, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Both will take you more time than you want. You’re in my territory now. You’ll play by my rules.”

  “Oh, will I?” I say, taking a step toward the demon and wiping that glowing grin right off his face. “How about I march back to my superiors and tell them what’s going on here? That you won’t let me near the prison. That I’m unable to retrieve what’s rightfully ours.”

  He straightens at that. He’s at least a head taller than I am, but I don’t cower the way he expects. I scowl at him. Then a huge shadow appears behind the demon. The demon gives me a toothy grin and steps aside to make way for the Hunter from the trial. He takes a few steps toward me. He’s so huge it’s enough to close the distance between us.

  “Reaper. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “I’m here for the souls in the prison.”

  He nods. “Well, don’t let me stop you. I believe you know the way.” He tips his head down and gives me a half smile, as if the two of us have a bond. After what happened at the sentencing, I think maybe we do.

  “What?” the smaller demon booms.

  The Hunter turns to him. “What?” He’s asking in earnest. He doesn’t understand why the demon has a problem with that plan.

  “You’re just going to let her take them?” He puffs out his chest and takes a step toward the Hunter. I don’t see the hammer anywhere, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need it to squash the smaller demon.

  “And you’re not?” The demon doesn’t answer, so the Hunter follows up with another question. “And what were you going to do with those souls? Take them dancing?”

&
nbsp; “Well, I certainly wasn’t going to make it easy for them. Isn’t that our job?” He’s whining now, and it’s even more grating than his normal voice.

  The Hunter takes a half step toward the demon and towers over him. “Speaking of work, don’t you have souls to torture?”

  To my disbelief, the demon doesn’t back down. As they say on Earth, he has some cojones. He glances over and catches me smiling.

  “What are you smiling at, Reaper?” He spits out my title.

  “You. I’m smiling at you, and the fact that you actually think you can win this.”

  The Hunter turns on me. “Let’s get one thing straight, Reaper,” he growls. “You and I are not on the same team.”

  “Noted,” I say. So much for our bond.

  He turns back to the demon.

  “You see that?” the smaller demon whines. “She’s so full of herself; she actually thought you were her ally. I think we should take her down a peg or two. Just like that Fate we had down here for a bit.”

  “That what?” he asks, and the demon clamps his mouth shut. “I was told he was a delusional human the Reapers had misplaced. He was truly a Spinner?”

  The demon clears his throat. “Why do you care anyway? Besides, you’re a Hunter. I don’t answer to you.”

  “That’s true, you don’t.” A Warden creeps out of the shadows, and I stifle a groan.

  Although the Warden has a small, unassuming appearance, he’s the one I dread most. Well, after the Hunter. They’re manipulative, which makes them particularly dangerous, and they oversee the torture of the souls who are kept here. Just the sight of him turns my stomach, and I feel an overwhelming need to leave.

  “But the Hunter’s right. That is the story you told everyone. Why change it now?” he asks the demon, without even acknowledging us. I’m fine with that.

  The demon takes a step back for the first time since he approached us. I stay silent this time, taking care to control my expression as I watch the downfall of the demon who trapped Webber.

 

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