by M. R. Forbes
"I do trust you," I said to them. "You aren't what you were made to be. You are what you make yourself." I kissed both of them on the top of their heads. "I'll help you. I have an idea."
CHAPTER TWO
I woke up to the crowing of a rooster somewhere outside of the farmhouse. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Sarah had shifted in the night, flopping away from me onto her stomach, where she was fast asleep. Four-thirty, I knew. I had been out for nearly twelve hours. Twelve hours that the Beast had been able to use to gain his strength.
"Josette." I closed my eyes and reached out for her. I felt rested, but there was something there, a sense of wrongness that I couldn't place. I found her, but we were both still ragged.
"Ulnyx." I tried calling out to the Were, but I didn't expect him to respond. He had shrunk away from me as much as he could after Lylyx had died and Charis had stolen his revenge, and right now I was nowhere near strong enough to force him out of hiding. I felt only a small drop of sympathy for him, knowing how he had resisted returning control of my body to me when the fight was already lost. He would have killed us both in his rage.
I slipped off the mattress as quietly as I could, and made my way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. There was a cracked mirror hanging above a rusted out sink, which I used to confirm that I looked as horrible as I felt. I peered into the reflection, examining the remnants of the wound Sarah had made with Malize's sword. The heavenly light hadn't hurt the way the hellfire did, and it had healed pretty well externally, save for a smooth white line on my abdomen that I wasn't sure would ever fade. Instead, I felt the drain of it on the inside, as if it had burned away a part of me. The fact that I was healing so slowly, and still felt so tired only added to that belief. I evacuated the bathroom, creeping across the bedroom as quietly as I could, heading for the stairs.
Charis greeted me with a weary smile when I emerged into the small living room where I had left her. She was still sitting in the chair in front of the empty fireplace, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, her lips dry and cracked.
"You look like crap," she said.
"Speak for yourself," I replied. "Although, I do feel like I got run over. Malize's sword..."
She shook her head. "Malize's sword didn't do this," she said. "Heavenly light isn't like hellfire. It can only harm demons."
It figured that the angels wouldn't have anything that could harm one of their own. I wished I could have been more thankful for that, but the truth of it left me more concerned. "Then why do I feel so lousy?" I asked.
"You know why, signore" Dante said, walking in through the front door that I hadn't heard open. I was in worse shape than I had thought.
"The Beast?" I asked.
He nodded. He looked like he was faring much better than we were. At least one of us wasn't a total disaster. "Your power comes from Purgatory. This whole time I believed the power was part of mine, but as we've learned it belonged to the Beast. He pulled some of it back into his cage before I was able to stop it. He also siphoned some of it away from both of you when Sarah stabbed you." He looked around. "Where is she?"
"She's upstairs, sleeping," I said. I wasn't going to tell him what I had promised I would do for her. "She feels terrible."
He didn't show any emotion. "What she feels doesn't matter," he said. "She has to live, as do both of you, until we can trap the Beast once more."
His words made me bristle. "Doesn't matter?" I asked, raising my voice.
He raised a hand, and I was paralyzed. I didn't have the strength to fight it. "No, signore," he said. "It doesn't matter. What is done is done and the Beast is free in this world. There is no going backwards, so we must put our attention on that, and only on that. I am sorry if this is disturbing to you, but we must keep ourselves focused."
He released me, and I nodded. He really wasn't going to like what I had promised her, but there was nothing I could do about that right now.
"Okay," Charis said. "So, any ideas on how to trap something that it took the two most powerful angels years to figure out how to contain, and do it in a matter of weeks?"
Dante lowered his head. "I'm sorry to say, I do not know. I haven't had to work without Mr. Ross in quite some time. I know his assistance was in some cases a ruse, and in some cases to further his own ends, but it was helpful all the same. I haven't had time to determine how to gather the information we need."
He had a point. What the Beast had done, he had done for his own purpose, but it had been instrumental in helping us to create and maintain the balance. Without him, we were short on sources for this kind of information. I could picture him sitting in his cage, bathing in the power that had been released, laughing at us.
"What about Malize?" I asked Charis. "He helped us before, and he was the one who helped trap the Beast the first time."
"He can't leave the cave," she replied. "He is the forgotten for a reason."
"What reason?"
"I don't know. He didn't tell me."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. When everything seemed so impossible, it was the best thing I could think of to do. "I guess it doesn't matter why," I said. "We can at least ask him about what we should do."
I heard soft footsteps, and a creak from one of the step's wooden boards. All of our heads turned to Sarah. She approached us slowly, her empty eye sockets swollen and red, her hair a ratty nest, my shirt still wrapped around her wrist, and the thin dress the Beast had put her in stained with blood.
"We can put him in the Box," she said. "Put him in the Box, and lose it for all time."
I walked over to Sarah and wrapped my arms around her. "How are you feeling?" I asked.
"I'll survive," she said with a weak smile, returning my embrace. I let her go and turned back to Dante and Charis.
"What is this Box she is speaking of, signore?" Dante asked.
"Avriel's Box," Charis answered. "Rebecca let Abaddon and the archangel free, in order to use it to catch Landon." She smiled and looked at me. "It didn't work out very well."
Dante looked like he was going to feint. "You have Avriel's Box?" he asked.
"I have it," Charis said. "I left it with the Templars, back in Thailand."
It was another bit of news Dante wasn't prepared for. He swung around to face her, his face turning crimson with anger. He started to raise his hand, and then paused, staring at her. He pursed his lips, and his body slumped.
"Dante?" I asked.
He held his hand out towards me. "My feelings are as unimportant as the girl's," he said. He looked back up at Charis. "I am beginning to understand many things. Why did you not heed my warning about the Templars?"
"Where would we be today if I had?" she asked.
Dante sighed. "Avriel's Box," he said. "That means the demon Abaddon is also loose." He stroked his chin and sighed again. "I never thought I would say it, but I think in this case, it's actually a good thing."
"Abaddon is nothing to be trifled with," Charis said. "Lucifer created him with the memory of the Beast, imbuing him with his own hunger for death and destruction."
"Yes," Dante replied, "but he is still a demon, and can be destroyed or returned to Hell."
"We know that Avriel is in the sewers beneath Paris, and the demon is there with him," I said. "So, we get rid of Abaddon, we grab Avriel, we take him to Thailand, and he shows us how to work the Box. It seems simple enough." Simple, like solving the Riemann hypothesis.
Dante laughed. "Do you know how to kill Abaddon, signore?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
"Neither did the seraphim. That is why they trapped him in the Box. Of all of them, only Avriel had the strength of will to even get close enough to strike, but what would he be striking? No one can pierce Abaddon's veil, to find the creature beneath it. He chose to trap him, and he was ensnared as well."
"I can Command the demon," Sarah said. "He will listen to me."
Dante turned back towards her. "Why would he listen to you, bambina?"
; "Because it's our only choice," she replied.
Dante shook his head. "A choice that you force us to make," he said, shifting his attention to me. "How can you be sure you can trust her, signore? There is a reason the true diuscrucis were hunted."
Sarah looked at me, her expression blank while she waited for my reply. I understood Dante's concern, because I had seen the fears play out in Sarah's Source. We had come to an agreement though, one that I could only hope would help keep her opposing nature at bay.
"I trust her," I said. "That will have to be enough."
Dante's eyes bored into me, and he looked like he wanted to say something else, but again he let it go. "Very well," he said. "I will return to Purgatory and see if there is anything I can do from there. Remember, signore, your power is diminished. You must be more cautious than you are accustomed to."
"Wait a second," I said. "You're just going to leave us out here? We're in the middle of nowhere."
"Not true, signore," he said. "I dropped you off here because I knew this place was safe, but you are only a hundred miles or so from Florence. There is a demon transport rift there that Charis can use to get you back to Paris. I would take you, of course, but I've already caused too much damage to the equilibrium. To do much more would be a boon to the Beast."
He walked over to Sarah, who gazed at him with her Sight, her face remaining emotionless.
"You have a chance to do great things," he said. "Be strong, and believe in Landon. He is the anchor in the face of this oncoming storm."
A smile began to spread on Sarah's face, and she nodded. A moment later, the poet disappeared.
"Let me see your wrist," I said to Sarah, reaching out and gently unwrapping my shirt from it. It was crusty and stiff from all of the blood that had seeped into it and dried, and I tossed it off into the corner.
I had been expecting to be greeted with a deep gash and a lot of scabbing on a wound that was too straight and fine to knit back together with ease, but was pleased to discover that Malize's sword was as kind to mortals as it was to angels. There was a familiar white line where the cut had been made, but otherwise the damage was healed.
"It's fine," Sarah said. "The only thing painful about it is the memory."
I knew what she meant. "It's still one less thing to worry about. The next order of business is to find some new threads. I'm not really feeling like going around shirtless, and you definitely can't go out in public like that."
Even if the dress hadn't been torn and bloodstained, it wasn't suitable. The material was just thick enough and long enough to qualify as clothing, leaving enough to the imagination to almost make it worse than nothing at all.
I hadn't heard Charis move, but suddenly she was next to me, holding out a crumpled mess of plaid. "I found these stashed away in the attic," she said. "They're old, and they smell like moth balls, but you can do what you want with them." Her eyes lowered to Sarah's feet. "I didn't find any shoes." She handed a flannel shirt to each of us.
Sarah took the shirt and uncrumpled it. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." she said, unlatching the buttons. "I can't get this thing off fast enough."
She pulled the dress over her head without warning, eager to replace it with the shirt. I turned my head away, trying to hide my embarrassment and drawing an amused smile from Charis. It did seem kind of silly to be ashamed by a little bit of flesh when we were faced with something so much worse. I took my own shirt and slipped it on.
Whoever they had belonged to must have been overweight, because they hung from both of us like a circus tent. I focused, forcing the cloth to shrink down to a more manageable size. Where before it had felt like I was drinking from a river, now the power fed into me like a stream. Charis must have noticed my look of concern, because she put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it before using her own energy to convert Sarah's tent into a flannel dress. The end result actually looked kind of cute on her.
"There's a barn out back with a rusted old Fiat in it," Charis said. "The car won't start on it's own, but I'm sure we can change its mind. Dante said there's a rift in Florence. I hope I can reach Vilya by the time we get there, because I don't know how to work it without her."
I closed my eyes and called out to Josette again. I could see the frayed edges of our connection, and I knew she wouldn't be able to respond. Only time would heal the damage, and it was the one thing we couldn't spare any of. I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out my cellphone, happy to find the hardened device was still intact, unhappy to see that the battery was dead. Not that it was likely there would be any reception out here. Obi would have to wait.
"So, I guess we head for Florence," I said. I took Sarah's hands in mine. "We'll do it after we get the Box, okay?" I asked. "The Beast probably knows we have it, and if we've thought about putting him in it, I'm sure he's thought about it too."
She nodded. "I know," she said. "I can wait. I'm okay right now."
I could feel Charis' confusion, but there was no time to explain.
"Charis?" Sarah said, coming down off the last step and standing right in front of her. They were nearly the same height, but she looked so small. Did Rebecca forget that she was mortal, and needed to eat? Did she forget it herself?
"Yes?" Her expression was warm, sympathetic. It didn't have to be, after what Sarah had done to her. She didn't have the same history with her that I did. Then again, we had connected, so in some ways she did.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said, her voice creaking more softly than the wooden floorboards had. "For stabbing you. For everything."
Charis didn't say anything. She reached out and put her arms around her, holding her in a warm embrace. She looked up at me past her shoulder, and I felt a pang in my soul. I couldn't name it, or maybe didn't want to name it, but I couldn't ignore it either.
"We need to go," I said to them.
Charis gave Sarah one last squeeze and then straightened up. "The barn is out back, we can go out through the kitchen." She took Sarah's hand to lead the way. A soft tug, but she didn't move. That was when I noticed her gaze was transfixed.
I should have felt the change in my senses, noticed the new presence in my Sight. I should have at least paid attention to the spill of light that had been coming in through the open front door, and how it was suddenly blocked.
CHAPTER THREE
"Diuscrucis," the voice roared from the doorway.
I followed the long shadow from the floor to its caster. Way too late, I could See. An angel. A powerful angel. He wasn't alone. "Melody," I said. "Who's your friend?"
I couldn't see her behind the larger seraph's silhouette, but I knew she was there.
"Initiate Melody will remain silent," the angel said. "I brought her only as witness."
"Witness to what?" I asked.
The angel stepped into the room. He was a handsome one, with a square jaw and short blonde hair that was greying around the edges. He wore the toga-like sash that the seraphim sported to fly, and it revealed a warrior's body beneath, all muscle and grit. Melody trailed in behind him, her expression one of fear.
"My name is Callus," he said. "I was sent to speak to this one, after it was brought to my attention that one of the Canaan Blades had been found and activated. It belonged to one whose name we cannot recall, but we do know he was not the one who used it. Initiate Melody was very close to where it was sensed, and her Confession revealed your involvement. I required her as witness, so she might prove her innocence in this."
Charis and I stole a glance at each other. She had said that that archangels would know if Malize's sword had been used. Obviously, they hadn't wasted any time investigating. Still, I found it a little discomforting that Callus had forced Melody to Confess. It was more than that, though. He had forced her to Confess, and he was still more concerned with a sword than he was with the Beast.
There was no sense beating around the bush. "Are you a servant of the Beast?" I asked him. He could attack, or he could tell the truth. He could try
to lie, but then he would be revealing the truth.
Callus looked at me as if I had just spat in his face. "Are you suggesting that I am disloyal to my Lord?" he asked, getting right into my face. I could feel his warm breath on my temple, and see the veins in his neck pulsing.
"You didn't answer the question," Charis said.
There was another way to find out if he was a servant. Angels weren't allowed to initiate violence.
His head spun towards her, and his eyes narrowed. A smile grew slowly along his face. I peeked over at Melody. She was still standing in the doorway, and she looked like she would have been super happy to be anywhere else.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Spare me your words, and follow your heart, Templar."
Charis stared at him, her eyes locking onto his. Her body tensed up, her hands balling into fists, and then she relaxed. "He's no servant," she said.
"Then why such an interest in a sword?" I asked. "When the Beast is freed to this world."
He backed away, and motioned for Melody to join him. "The Beast is a myth," he said. "A story told by those who are lacking in more productive pursuits. The sword is real."
"I tried to tell him," Melody started to say.
"Silence, Initiate," Callus snapped. "You may speak when I ask it of you."
Angel or not, Callus was a jerk. It was an all too common theme with the seraphim elite. "I hate to break it to you, my friend," I said. "The Beast is real, and the door to his cage is hanging open."
"I am not your friend, diuscrucis," he replied. "The only reason you live is because I am not strong enough to defeat two of you on my own, and they asked me to come only to parley."
I held back my laugh. He didn't know we'd been hamstrung. He didn't know he could probably cut us all down with barely a twitch. I felt Sarah shift next to me. Well, maybe not. I didn't know if she could Command an angel like Callus, but she had somehow managed to overpower Rebecca. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility.
