by Andy Hyland
“And what of it?” she smiled. “With him gone,” she looked down at Max, “that’s just between you and me. And shortly, you won’t be telling anyone anything, ever again.” She walked towards me now, with faltering steps at first, but growing more confident. Something about her gait had changed. One more part of her transformation that I didn’t want to know the details of.
“A question for you now,” she hissed. “While you can still speak. How did you know that it was me? Any of the higher Host could have accomplished what has been done. How did you know?”
“Because, I think, of all the Host I’ve known, you always seemed the most human.” To judge from the look on her face, this, apparently, just pissed her off even more. “Did you get all that?” I shouted to the ceiling. “Because now might be a great time to do something.”
“Silly child,” Tabbris said, stalking closer now, the tip of her sword ringing and sparking as she dragged it across the floor. “Are you praying? Do you really think that He will hear one such as you? Or do you think someone else can hear you, perhaps? Sorry to disappoint you, but do you think I’d allow any magical bond to be established in this place?”
“No,” I admitted, “but quite frankly, as long as you’ve got a strong phone signal, who needs magical bonds anyway?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Julie shrugged, and her voice cracked as we spoke. “What else can we do, Mal? Come on, spill it. I’ll give you ten seconds to tell me you can make everything all right.”
I looked up at her. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s time to end this, and leaving’s not going to work. Besides, I’ve been assured that I’m at my best when I’m not running. We can do this, Julie. We’ve got each other, and,” I said looking over at the gargoyle, “we’ve got air support. And finally, all this talk of phone calls has given me ideas.”
“Can you guarantee we can end this?”
“Absolutely we’re going to end it, one way or the other. And nobody else gets hurt, nobody outside the four of us. I just can’t guarantee a happy ending. That okay with you?”
She considered it for a moment, and flipped the gun, offering me the grip. “All yours, then.”
“Save it,” I said. “You’ll need it for what we’re going to do. And anyway, if I’m going out, I’m not going out holding a gun.”
“Bloody Brits,” Zack muttered, but looked interested. “So come on.”
“I suppose that your job is to deliver me all peaceful, like?” I asked.
Julie nodded “We need to leave now. Before they abandon the peaceful part and try something else.”
“Of course.”
“And it’s just you and me.”
“You realize that as soon as soon as you and that brooch get out of range, we’re going to get picked up?” said Arabella, throwing a worried glance over at Zack, who’d also worked this out.
“Realize it?” I said. “Arabella, my dear, I’m bloody counting on it.”
Once they watched us pull away in the Limo, Zack and Arabella endured what Zack graphically described to me later as the most piss-awful two minutes of their lives, pacing the floor and waiting for the Host enforcers to turn up, which they duly did.
Then it was a swift march downstairs and an uncomfortably short ride to the Host transport HQ on Lispenard Street. Dardariel was waiting at the door and ushered them in.
“Inform the Library that we have two of the culprits,” he barked. “Only English is still missing. We will extract his whereabouts from them while we wait for alignment, which will be in…?”
“Two minutes,” someone shouted from the other side of the room. It was all bustle, and the usual Hostly calm demeanor had gone.
“We don’t know where he is,” Zack said, to which Dardariel gave a disbelieving snort. “Hold on, big guy. We don’t know where he is, but,” and here Zack held up his phone. “If you hang on just a second, we can find out together.”
I’m not a pompous prick. I hope you know that. Not being seen as a pompous prick is deeply important to my fragile ego and sense of well-being. So when I stood in the Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine, and gave my whole “I am Malachi English” speech, I wasn’t engaging in some sort of pissing contest. I don’t know exactly what powers a recently fallen angel possesses, but even at my souped-up best I don’t think I’d be able to stand against one.
No, all I wanted to do was to blow out some windows and get them both looking at me, so they didn’t see two gargoyles fly in at speed and take up excellent perches just above where all the action was taking place. Being smarter than the average gargoyles, it hadn’t taken much time at all to brief them on how to start a video call.
And so it was that as I was backing away from Tabbris and calling out for help, Dardariel was screaming at every member of the Host at his disposal to get moving.
“Hold,” Dardariel shouted, appearing at my shoulder out of thin air. “Tabbris, you are in violation of all that his holy, and I order you to surrender yourself immediately. You will not be spared.”
“You worm,” she said, lifting the sword. “You think you can stand against me?”
One by one a succession of enforcers stepped out of nowhere into the church, hard boots sounding on the stone floor and sending echoes reverberating around the great hall.
“You cannot stand against us all,” Dardariel said. “Not you, Tabbris. Not even one such as you. Please,” and here his tone changed, no longer demanding but pleading, “please surrender. Perhaps there is something that can still be done. Restitution made, forgiveness sought. It does not have to be like this, my sister.”
She looked down at herself, and for a moment doubt and terrible, terrible loss flickered across her face. But then her black eyes burned and the edges of her mouth twisted down into a snarl. With a scream she raised her sword and charged straight at me.
Dardariel shoved me to the side, out of her range, and as I looked up from the floor he seemed to grow in stature, becoming so much more than I thought he was. The suit was gone, and wide feathered wings flew up and out. At the same moment the enforcers rushed Tabbris. The light was blinding, unbearable, and for a long minute I covered my eyes and cowered as the air thrummed and the building shook.
Then, at last, there was silence. I crawled over to a chair and pulled myself up. Empty. Just me and Max. Poor Max.
The tusked gargoyle landed lightly beside me, and held up his hand. I thought at first he was offering to shake or fist bump, but he was holding out my phone. It was ringing. A grin cracked across his adorably ugly face. “For you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I wandered lazily along the endlessly fascinating corridors of the Great Library. Somewhere beneath my feet lay the pit, with its ledges and stairs, and the captives living in the darkness, waiting for that fateful day when they’d be dragged up to face the knife. Or the axe. Whatever. They simply weren’t my problem. For now, I was happy just to walk, and ponder, and chill.
I’d been kindly but firmly dragged off to the Host’s Manhattan office and slid over to the Library as soon as alignment would allow. The experience was no more pleasant than my first trip, but at least I knew what was coming and was able to fortify myself somewhat against it. No stone steps down to an arched labyrinth awaited me at the other end, though. Not this time. I was put in a comfortable and luxurious sitting room. Occasionally someone would turn up, invariably with bright blue eyes, and politely ask me to confirm a fact or two, but apart from that I was left alone. The door was unlocked, and I could have left whenever I wanted. But knowing the freedom was there was enough by itself, and I was happy enough to choose the longest, softest sofa in the room, and crash, and sleep.
Zack and Arabella wandered in the next day - or after I woke up, anyway. They were disheveled but unharmed, just like me. We spoke and laughed for a bit, and then an enforcer came to collect them. Nothing was said directly, but I got the impression they were shipping out. Some time after they left, Julie wandere
d in. We sat close to each other and held hands, but didn’t speak. Eventually she kissed my cheek, stood up and left.
The room came to bore me a little, despite the intriguing selection of books. I got the feeling that Simeon would have loved to spend some time with them. Or Mercy, for that matter. There was also a shelf full of twisted metallic objects. I had no idea what they were, but they felt old. Very old. Food and water, satisfying and refreshing beyond anything I’d known, appeared on a table in the corner every few hours.
When the time seemed right, I opened one of the two doors to the room, and stepped outside. I’d intended to stretch my legs, get some exercise, and then return, but once I got past the first few corners it occurred to me that I probably couldn’t find my way back even if I tried.
Every now and then a member of the Host passed by. I got polite nods, and even a few smiles. One woman, dressed not unlike Tabbris, but with her swords swinging from a belt at her hips, and with ice-white hair, stopped and gravely shook my hand. “It was well done,” she said, and then moved on.
I’d begun to feel thirsty again when a familiar figure turned the corner in front of me. Dardariel. Back in a suit, but looking altogether more casual now, wearing it more freely, and swaggering slightly as he walked. His once-perfect face now bore a gray scar traveling down from temple to chin, cutting across his right eye, which was no longer piercing blue but a misty, clouded white.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, smiling. “You look well.”
“You look…different.”
He touched his face. “It will take some getting used to. But it is not without honor. And a guard against vanity is always welcome.”
“Well I’m glad I bumped into you. Figure I’ve got a lot to thank you for.”
“It goes both ways.”
“Yeah, probably does. But thanks anyway. Glad you got there in time.”
“Once Miss Fairchild left the scene, and you were outside the influence of that ingenious piece of jewelry, you were easy enough to track, once we knew what was going on. But even if that hadn’t been the case, we’d have recognized the interior of that particular church. Still, the risks you took,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s as if you had a death wish.”
“I promise you, I had nothing of the sort. Things just reached the point where they couldn’t go on any longer.” I hesitated before asking my question. “Is it finished?”
“That’s why I’m here. Some matters have been decided. Resolutions have been reached. Come this way. It’s not too far.”
I fell into step beside him. “The others, they’ve left? Zack, Arabella. Julie.”
He nodded. “There was no need to detain them. They were deemed, in the end, minor participants in criminal matters. Your own situation was more complicated.”
I frowned. “How so?”
“You were, of course, declared innocent of any crimes against Kushiel, deep may he rest. But there were still some technicalities outstanding regarding the child-vampire you had a hand in creating. And the subsequent deaths that resulted. Peace,” he said, holding up a hand as I tried to argue. “What will come, will come.”
“I suppose it will. But I have to know: is she dead?”
“She? Ah. No. That was beyond me, when it came to it. Beyond us. But she won’t be causing you any problems. She certainly won’t be coming looking for you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It is, yeah. Thanks. Reassuring.”
He glanced at me. “How did you know? How did you know when we were all so blind?”
“In truth, I didn’t. Not for sure. Not until right at the end. I had all the pieces but they didn’t fit together. It took me so long to see because none of it quite added up. Even now, going through what she said, in my mind, I’m not sure I understand all of it. Why she acted as she did.”
“She was conflicted,” he said. “It’s common, or so I understand, for those…in her condition. When the change comes, it comes suddenly, but it’s far from straightforward. She was torn, still clinging to what she used to be, even though she’d rejected it. It was, after all, ultimately by twisting her virtues that Eliajel tempted her. Once she devolves into her final state, with all morality and obligation cast aside, she will be infinitely more dangerous. But when you saw her, she needed desperately to still do what she thought was the right thing. Plans within plans against plans, even as she fell.”
“I didn’t think angels fell anymore.”
“You thought wrong,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.
“So what can I expect to happen now?”
He shrugged. “I have made my own views very clear about the matter. Now we will find out if anybody listened.” He stopped sharply and opened a worn oaken door on his left, ushering me through.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered. “Didn’t ever want to be back here again.” Still, here I was, and there was nothing to be done about it. I stepped forward once more into the center of the Chamber of Judgement.
The three thrones - gold, steel and granite, stood empty. The rows of seats, stretching further up than I could see in the light that blazed from burning torches, were filled with the Host. To my relief the atmosphere was significantly different to my last visit. There was a buzz of conversation, a charge to the room, but it was one of expectation.
“Good to see you again,” said Liberty, strolling over. “Wasn’t sure if I ever would, after the way we parted.”
I went to shake his hand, but he pulled me into a bear hug. “How’s Cadence, and the kid?” I said into his shoulder.
“Improving,” he said, letting me go. “This lot have been more than willing to extend every courtesy, if you get what I mean. I think they’ll both be okay. But the losses…Josephine, and so many others.”
“I know. Hey!” I ran over to where Mercy sat on a wooden chair that someone had kindly made available, and knelt down next to her. “You won’t believe how good it is to see you.”
She smiled at me, and the sparkle was still in her eyes. But her face was drawn and gaunt, and her hand shook as she placed it on my shoulder. “It’s good to see you as well, Malachi. I hear you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it when we get back.”
“Oh, we’ve already heard,” said Liberty. “Nobody in this place can talk about anything else.”
“Well hopefully that’ll mean some brownie points.” I dropped my voice. “Seriously, on a scale of one to ten, how deep in the shit are we still in here?”
Liberty nodded towards the thrones. “Let’s hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.”
I turned to look. The white-haired woman with the swords was standing next to the granite throne, but did not sit. She looked down and nodded at the three of us. I might have been imagining it, but it seemed that something like a smile touched the corner of her mouth. She was, in her own way, as beautiful as Tabbris had been, with the same ivory skin.
“We are decided,” she said. Her voice was low and strong and carried to every part of the room effortlessly. “I, Adnarel, speak for the Gathering.” Instantly there was silence. Everyone hung upon her words. I couldn’t bring myself to breathe.
“The three humans before us were charged, and are still charged, with the creation of the unsanctioned beast, and bear the guilt of the blood that was spilt. However,” - and never has that word sounded more wondrous to me than it sounded right then, in that place, “we find ourselves owing a considerable debt. Moreover, upon further consideration we find that there were mitigating factors involved. In short, they will not answer to us for what occurred.”
I could breathe again. Mercy leant forward and cupped her face in her hands. Liberty blew out a lungful or air and turned to me, smiling.
“Now to more significant factors,” Adnarel continued.
“Uh oh,” I said.
“Tabbris has been banished far into the hellplains, not without cost. Any powers she had as one of the Host have
dissipated. Any powers she will gain from…what she now is, will take time to develop. She is not a threat. At least, she will not be so for the next ten generations of humanity. We hope.” Adnarel turned her face towards me. “We did not see. We did not know. We did not suspect. We apologize.”
“To err is not to sin,” I told her, and even though I couldn’t see him from where I stood, I knew that Dardariel was smirking.
“Wisely said,” Adnarel noted. “Her actions, and the motives behind them, bring me to the Council’s decision about our interaction with the Earth realm. It was Tabbris’ contention, and one that many here shared, that humanity is too irresponsible, too flawed, to effectively govern and protect itself. I, for one, am still inclined to hold that view.” She looked around as mutterings started to stir in the audience. “But the Gathering has seen evidence of late that hints of power and courage, of wit and daring, that should give us hope. To impress our own governance upon the world now would perhaps stifle such virtues, rather than encourage them to flourish. We are perhaps in danger of over-stepping our purpose, and of actively inhibiting the proper development of humanity. Therefore, the Host will depart from that realm forthwith.”
“Seriously?” someone shouted from far up in the tiers.
Adnarel allowed herself a wry smile, and shouted back. “I am not a sentimental fool, nor am I blind. We know what they are capable of. But let us at least consider the possibility that our absence may strengthen, rather than weaken them. I repeat, this is the view of the Gathering. It is decided. The Library and its resources will be restored to the Union under the guidance and rule of Marcus who is called Liberty. As to protection,” she said, smiling at me openly now, “they will, I am sure, find their own way. Also, due to Tabbris’ actions, too much has come to light in the world about the existence and nature of magic and other worlds. As our final action here for some time, memories and evidence relating to the past two weeks will be…dealt with. That is all. Make your preparations. We leave, soon. And will somebody please sort out the pit before we go.”
