“Juliet says that she doesn’t like the idea of a female doctor,” sad Shannon absently as she fiddled with one of her shirt buttons.
Kellan sighed, “Yeah, she’s been very vocal about that.”
“Well,” said Lucifer, “off I pop, have things to do, Chaos to seed. Thank you Kellan for the bourbon and thank you Shannon for the show.” The young Sentinel could feel his jaw begin to clench at this last comment as the fallen angel gestured. A blood red portal ripped the air, he hopped through and it closed behind him without a backwards glance.
Chapter 7
A Favor Earned
• The ice sphere slid down the glass and slammed into Kellan’s front teeth. He swallowed the last of the bourbon and cursed. He rubbed his teeth and gums then turned to find Shannon smirking at him. He walked over and plopped onto the sofa, stretching out along its length. He liked that sofa and chair. They were a matched set even though he had bought them years apart. They were both made of soft tobacco colored chapped leather reminiscent of Kellan’s favorite leather company, Saddleback.
• “I’m tired,” he said.
• “I know,” she replied.
• “And I hate the thirteenth century.”
• “I know that too. Did your phone die again?”
• “Yeah.”
• “You didn’t bring the battery thing Meghan got ya?”
• “I forgot.”
• “Too bad, I’d have liked to see a few pictures of the boys and younger me. Did I look younger, Kellan?”
• The young Sentinel thought for a moment and wondered if she’d set a trap, then decided he was too tired to avoid it if so. “You were younger, but not in the way you’re thinking. You were more innocent.”
• Shannon scoffed, “Not so innocent after you had your way with me.”
• Kellan rolled onto his back. “I’m serious Shan, you were wide eyed and amazed by everything. You had never channeled and didn’t even know you could. Oren nearly died.”
• “Scoot over, you,” she said softly and slid off her chair. Kellan did and Shannon squeezed onto the couch with him. She lifted up slightly and he slid his right arm under her and draped his left on top. He kissed the nape of her neck and felt her shiver and lean back into him. “I remember,” she said. “I thought he was a dead man, but you saved him. Then I thought you were going to die and I felt like I would crawl right into the hole with you.”
• “Sorry if I scared you.”
• “You scare me all the time, I’m familiar with it now. I’ll never be used to it though.”
• Kellan nodded. “You never told me that Oren was in love with you.”
• She stiffened against him then let out a relaxing sigh. “I didn’t rightly know until later. I just thought of him as one of my brothers ever since you saved Amy and his sisters. He always hung around, but I never thought it was because of me. Finally, Donal told me.”
• “How did that go?”
• “Not well. Donal and I got into a fight. I split his lip. Oren came upon us and asked what the fight was about and we told him. I asked him to set right my stupid brother and he just looked at me with the saddest expression I’d ever seen.” Shannon twisted and Kellan loosened his arms. She turned to face him and there were tears in her eyes. “He just looked at me and said, ‘I can’t tell you that, because everything he says is true.’ That was the last I saw him. He just wasn’t there the next morning. Did I ever tell you what he called me?” Kellan shook his head. “He called me, teine madadh-allaidh.”
• Kellan smiled as the Gaelic words resolved in his mind. “That’s what Micah called you isn’t it? Fire Wolf?”
• She nodded. “I wish I could see him again and apologize for being so damned flippant about his feelings.”
• Kellan kissed her cheek and wiped away an errant tear. “Maybe we’ll take some time and look for him.”
• Her eyes locked on his. “Do you think we could?”
• “I don’t see why not.”
• She smiled at Kellan and nestled her head under his outstretched arm. “Sometimes you aren’t half-bad, Kellan Thorne. I think I’ll keep you.”
• “Thanks,” he said dryly.
• “Don’t mention it. By the by, I think my arse is nicer now than it was in Glenn Ferry.”
• Kellan was taken aback by the conversation’s sudden change in direction, but tried to go with it. “Really, I didn’t notice. Why would you say that?”
• “Meghan told me. She says you could bounce a quarter off my arse and make it do flips. She says its because of the hot yogi I do with her and Juliet.”
• “Yoga.”
• “I thought it was yogi?”
• “No, Yogi is a bear.”
• “Oh. Well, what about her face?”
• “Whose face?”
• “Younger me’s face, stupid.”
• “It looked just like your face, just dirtier.”
• “It didn’t have the scar.” Kellan noted how soft her voice had become and he turned her head slightly with his free hand and placed three soft kisses on her left cheek where Asmodeus carved the enochian symbol.
• “I love your face. I love your arse. I love that you are with me here and now. You also smell a lot better than you did in Glenn Ferry.”
• She pushed off him and opened her mouth, closed it, then frowned. “Are you saying that I stunk, Kellan Thorne?”
• “No, not stunk exactly, but you did have a certain ripeness about you.”
• She sat up and stared down at him. “A ripeness you say?”
• Kellan sighed. “Forget it, I didn’t mean anything.”
• “Oh no, we won’t be forgetting anything. Explain this ripeness of which you speak.”
• “C’mon, Shannon. God knows how long it had been since you had a bath when I first arrived, then we fought a couple dozen monsters, then we, you know, and all that makes for,” he paused uncomfortably, “ripeness.”
• “Well, thanks for nothing, Kellan. You do realize that showers in 1285 were—” Shannon broke off as a brilliant green light split the room and revolved into a massive portal.
• A giant of a man, well over seven feet tall leaped though. He was clad from head to toe in gleaming silver armor and carried a massive flaming sword.
• Kellan gripped the back of the couch and hoisted himself up. The man’s eyes locked on his. To Kellan’s surprise, he saw relief reflected in the angel’s face.
• “Michael?” said Kellan questioningly.
• “Kellan Thorne, I have need of you. The Sentinel of Chaos has Ariel and he means to destroy her.”
• Shannon’s head joined Kellan’s above the couch. She turned to him questioningly. “Michael—the Archangel?” Kellan nodded. She harrumphed. “Didn’t he defend Asmodeus and try to kill you in the workroom?”
• “That’s him,” replied Kellan evenly.
• “And isn’t Ariel the bitchy angel you met in Eden?”
• “Two for two, my love.”
• She sniffed and disappeared again behind the couch-back, “Fuck ‘em, let’s watch Poldark. That Aiden Turner is one handsome lad. He’s like you, just leaner and with more muscles.”
• Kellan took a deep breath, ignoring her, and focused his attention on the Archangel. “What are you talking about, Michael? I’m pretty sure she can take care of herself and, if not, why is this my problem?”
• Michael smoothly slid his massive sword into a sheath strapped across his back. As he did so, the flames extinguished with a hiss, like being quenched in water. “He has acquired the Seal of Bathsheba and has her subdued, Sentinel of Order. She is powerful and Maurius does not posses her True Name, but paralyzed as she is—” He looked down a moment to gather himself. “Paralyzed as she is, Ariel will not survive long without aid.”
• Kellan sighed. “Oh all right, I’ve been meaning to confront that douche-canoe anyway. Where are they?”
• “But—”
• She was firm. “No, we agreed both of us would be more reasonable about the risks we accepted.”
• Michael looked first to Kellan and then to his Soulborn. He unsheathed his sword but did not bring it to flame. Michael placed it on the floor and dropped to one knee. “Sentinel of Order, I beseech thee. Aid me in this endeavor and my sword is yours as will be my enduring friendship. Anything you ask of me, if it be within my power and does not put me at odds with God Himself, will be done.” As Michael began to speak, Kellan felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Powerful, Ordered energies crackled around the Archangel as he bent his head in supplication and stretched out his right hand toward the Sentinel.
• Kellan hesitated. He looked at Shannon. “I know what we agreed, but I cannot let him lose the person who clearly walks beside him throughout eternity.”
• Shannon scoffed, “Of course you cannot, you daft man. I knew you were going as soon as this mountain of an angel stepped foot in our home. But since you were going anyway, he certainly should show some appreciation and humility.” She smiled beatifically at Michael, then added, “which he has now done.” Shannon rolled off the couch and bounced to her feet, then headed toward the bedroom. “Just give me a tick and I’ll grab some knives and put on the Kevlar.”
• Scant minutes later the Soulborn returned to their living room. She scowled at the empty room, closed her eyes and let pure rage fill her. With a mighty force of will, she projected those feelings. Her emotions spread outward to find the single person in all of creation who could receive them. Shannon felt them connect and smiled then said, “Oh yes, Kellan Thorne, you should feel afraid. What you sense now is just the palest shadow of what awaits you when you get home.”
“Holy crap, Michael this place looks like bloody Mordor. Where are we?”
The Archangel ignored the question, instead turning to Kellan and saying, “We must persist the portal. I have no power here but that which I brought with me. I do not wish to find us trapped here because I lack the energy to reopen it.”
“Where is here?” asked Kellan.
“I need you to bind your power to this portal, Sentinel of Order. You can tether it to this place and thus keep it from closing until we return.”
“Jesus, Michael, are you even listening to me? I’ve asked you three times, where—is—here?”
“Lucifer’s workroom, Kellan. Now bind the portal.”
The Sentinel ground his teeth but pushed down further questions and stared at the glowing green portal. “And just how do I do that?”
“As you do everything else, Sentinel of Order, channel power with fixed intent in that tiny ape brain of yours. Do it now!”
“Michael,” said Kellan, his voice rising to a sing-song cadence, “What did you mother tell you about being a dick to people who are risking life and limb for your one, true, love?”
“I have no mother.”
“No, no, no,” said Kellan as he waggled a finger at the Archangel, “she said, don’t be a dick. Now, zip it.” Michael drew his lips to a line but remained silent. “Good, now just give me a second will ya?” Kellan’s eyes burst to light and he examined the portal as well as the ground immediately around it. It was what he had come to describe as a dark or gray portal. Kellan could dimly see his living room, but knew the portal was not light enough to pass through. He glanced about and took in the vast radiating lines of chaotic energy that spread throughout their immediate area and into the distance. Tendrils of it leaped from the ground to lash at Michael’s portal. With his Sentinel’s sight, Kellan could see the portal lose integrity with each lash of Chaotic energy. He reached out both hands and channeled. Power flooded into him and runes blazed down his arms. Green bolts of power lanced out from his palms and struck the edges of the failing portal. They traveled around the circumference and then buried themselves into the ground. Immediately the red energy retreated as it met its opposite. Kellan redoubled his efforts and in his mind’s eyes saw a moat of pure emerald power surround the open portal.
He released the energy and sagged a bit with the effort. Michael looked at the Ordered barrier Kellan had erected with new found respect, but that turned to worry as his eyes met those of the Sentinel. “You are weakened.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Just dumped a bunch of my mojo into that moat-barrier. By the way,” he gestured to the portal, “it won’t last forever. How long will it take for us to find Ariel?”
Michael closed his eyes in concentration, then said, “Not long, unless we are destroyed. She is close. I sense her.”
Kellan made a sweeping gesture, “Well, then lead on and let’s open a big can of Archangelic whoop-wrath on this asshole.”
Michael nodded curtly and turned, when Kellan cried out and sank to one knee. He pressed fingers from both hands hard into his temples as tears squeezed out of his tightly closed eyes.
Michael whirled around, flaming sword instantly in his hand, alert for danger. “What evil attacks you, Sentinel of Order, I see nothing.”
Kellan breathed rapidly and lowered his hands then glanced back over his shoulder. “That evil,” he said, nodding to the portal.
Through its darkened center, both Michael and Kellan could make out a faint but clearly identifiable female figure with both hands placed aggressively on hips. Kellan could almost see the angry scowl with as much clarity as he felt the furious mental images that slowly faded from his mind.
Michael reached down and offered his hand. Kellan grasped it and the Archangel heaved him up. His face softened in a manner Kellan had never seen and he said, “You were right to leave her. She could not have survived here. It is a toxic place and sits outside creation. No human soul that is tethered to any moment in time can survive here for even the barest of moments.”
Kellan nodded, “Yeah, but getting her to listen long enough to hear that before she sticks me with one of her mother’s daggers, that, Michael, will be the trick.”
Michael cocked his head slightly, “Yes, I believe it is unlikely you will escape without an injury of some kind, assuming we are not destroyed here that is.”
Kellan had drawn up beside the Archangel as they walked in the direction he indicated earlier. “Can you stop with the ‘us being destroyed,’ stuff. You really are harshing whatever bliss I have in this place.” Kellan looked around again, “Which reminds me. You said this was Lucifer’s workshop? I thought he couldn’t create anything.”
Michael kept his pace, but glanced over to the Sentinel, “I did not say it was an effective work shop.”
Kellan laughed despite himself. “Was that a joke, Michael? Did you just make a joke?”
The Archangel had returned his gaze to the front, but responded simply, “I do not believe I did, Sentinel of Order. What you apes,” he caught himself and continued, “What you humans find humorous continues to elude me. All Archangels have the power to create places such as this, but Lucifer infused his with massive amounts of Chaotic energy immediately after the war in heaven. He planned to form an alternative to Creation itself, but, as you see, this place remains barren. He gave up those efforts millennia ago, but his workroom remains, desolate and lacking any redeeming features, like Lucifer himself.”
Kellan said nothing and Michael looked down again at the Sentinel. “Do not be deceived by him Sentinel of Order. It is said he masquerades as an angel of light for a reason.”
The Sentinel grumbled something unintelligible, then said, “Where exactly are we going?”
Michael pointed. “Just past that outcropping. I sense her strongly now.”
“Um,” began Kellan, “you seem pretty chill about this all of a sudden. I mean we are just strolling to where your girlfriend is about to be killed by the Sentinel of Chaos. Shouldn’t we
be running or something to better express the urgency of the situation?”
Michael stopped and placed both hands on Kellan’s shoulders. “Maurius is not here and we will arrive in plenty of time to secure Ariel’s release. It does us no good to expend effort arriving sooner than is needed.”
Kellan pinched up his face, “Dude, you are weird. If it were Shannon I’d be flying there.”
“You cannot fly. You have not yet been granted the tacit approval from—” Michael broke off awkwardly.
“Huh, what, someone has to approve me to fly. What is that, like some angelic FAA giving me a pilot’s license? That’s bullshit.”
“I erred by mentioning it, Sentinel of Order. Press me not. Were I to reveal more, it would endanger your ability to even gain that approval. Trust me, my silence is in your best interest.”
Kellan growled to himself as the two reached the edge of a steep cliff face. Michael gestured. “Behold…Ariel.”
Kellan whistled. “Wow, is she hovering over what I think she is.”
Michael arched an eyebrow, “If you were thinking that it is a pool of immensely powerful, primordial, chaotic energies that would turn her to vapor if she were submerged, then yes.”
Kellan bit the inside of his lip. “Yeah, I was thinking something like that.” Beneath them spreading out between the cliff face on which they stood and one at least three thousand feet distant, lay a roiling lake of red energy. “That looks like a ginormous version of what I felt when merged with Maurius that time in God’s workroom.”
Michael did not turn, but said, “I am sure there are similarities, but this power is sterile and cannot be channeled, hence Lucifer’s failure.”
Kellan pointed to the figure of Ariel who hung suspended several hundred feet above the pool. Her head lulled to one side and though her eyes were open, Kellan didn’t see recognition there. Beautiful long white wings which normally would be tightly held against her back, drooped to either side. Her interlocked silver-scaled armor was charred in many places with entire sections missing altogether. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
Sentinels of Creation: A Wizard's Soul Page 9
