by Lola StVil
“Why? We have a good gift for her,” Swoop counters.
“She’s not going to let us in because she’s dead; they’re all dead,” East says, pointing to the mass grave at the edge of the forest. Someone butchered all the snakes in the valley, including the Sapphire Serpent we needed.
The White Lady lies dead at the center of the mass grave. She is so white she is the color of milk. Her top half is a beautiful woman with white lips and long, full black hair. She has complex white tattoos carved into her face, and her eyes have slits like a snake’s. Her bottom half is a series of large python tails. It looks like she died mid-transformation. We can’t get to her or the snakes because they are on the inside of the barrier.
“What the hell happened here?” East asks.
“I guess she let in the wrong being,” Swoop replies.
“My dear, is there ever a ‘right’ being to let in?” Malakaro says, appearing at the edge of the forest.
“You bastard, you did this!” Pryor screams.
“Considering you were coming here to find a way to end me, I find it odd that you’re the one who is upset, don’t you?” Malakaro asks calmly.
“Who told you about our plan? How the fuck did you know?” I shout.
“Really, Pryor, we should discuss your taste in mates. But to answer your question, a friend of mine told me. He was very forthcoming,” Malakaro taunts.
“It couldn’t have been Randy. He signed a contract and we would have been notified if he did. And even if we didn’t make him sign anything, he would never do that!” Pryor says.
“You know nothing of Randall or his past. In fact, I venture to say I know more than even Randall does about himself. Randall is a lost boy. I know all too well what that can be like. In fact, I daresay Randall is similar to someone else I know,” Malakaro teases.
“Randy is nothing like you. You can’t have him. He’s good. He’s kind. He’s something you will never be—worth it,” Pry spits.
“How dare you? You ingrate! I allow you to live, I allow you life, and this is how you repay me? I was going to do this later, but now, I am certain doing it right here and now is the better choice,” Malakaro shouts.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Pry demands.
“Makayla, do come out,” he says, calling for his pet. The panther appears from behind a series of trees. It growls and roars into the sky. It comes dragging an angel in between its fangs. The angel is barely conscious. He has been severely beaten; one wing is broken, the other barely hanging on. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I’m hoping I’m wrong.
Please, Omnis, let me be wrong…
“I think this family reunion is somewhat overdue,” Malakaro says, signaling for his pet to drop the motionless body on the ground. When the angel groans and rolls over, it’s the first time we get a good look at him—it’s Marcus Cane.
“Dad! What did you do to him, you sick fuck?” Pryor yells as she bangs her fist against the shield. She’s yelling and cursing Malakaro. She vows to end his life right then and there.
He scolds her for being rude and interrupting him. “You see, I thought it was time my father and I talked, like family. So I told him his daughter was in danger and that if he ever wanted to see you again, he’d agree to meet me. And he did—alone.”
“Bullshit. Marcus would never meet you without backup. He knows what a lowlife you are,” Swoop says.
“That’s the thing about the ones you love: You put logic and reason aside. Well, it’s good that I never had this problem. When we met, he was so stricken by the thought that I had taken you, he was hardly an adversary. In fact, I was rather disappointed.”
“You had your beast attack him with his poison fangs; that weakened him. That’s the only way you could ever outfight Marcus Cane. You are nothing compared to him,” I bark angrily.
“I controlled your father once. I enjoyed it. Shall I see what it would be like to control the son of an Akon?”
“Any time you wanna take me on, I’m ready,” I sneer.
“Aaden, no. No,” Marcus groans from the ground.
“Let him go! Please, please!” Pry begs.
“I’m intrigued, Pryor. What exactly was the thinking here? Do you really believe that one vial could undo me?”
“You’re only doing this because you know by coming here we would have had you. We would have beaten you,” Swoop swears.
“Well then, we shall see,” Malakaro says as he reveals a vial in the palm of his hand. He puts it to his lips and drinks. We look on, shocked that he would take such a risk. A few moments later, he stands before us, cocky, smug, and in perfect health.
“You see, I can’t be undone—by anyone,” he says coldly.
“If you hurt my father, there will be no end to your pain!” Pryor vows.
“That’s just it. I thought I could hurt you in front of dear old Dad. I thought that pain would be enough. But I was wrong. I think him knowing that you had to watch him die and stand helplessly aside is an even better torture. I’ve allowed Marcus to be alive for far too long. It is time for him to go.”
“There’s still time to do one decent thing, Jason. Let your sister turn away. Don’t make her watch this,” Marcus pleads.
“All this time I really thought you didn’t want me because I wasn’t good enough. But it turns out you were afraid that your son would usurp you. You thought I would be better than you, so you tried to destroy me,” the rejected son replies.
“Jason, I tried. I tried,” Marcus mumbles as blood gushes from his mouth.
“That’s what’s so pathetic about the whole thing. You actually think you tried,” he replies.
“Kill me if you must, but don’t you dare make her watch. Jason, don’t do this,” Marcus pleads.
“I bet you thought it was going to be an epic fight between me and your father, a great battle to end all battles. But no, that won’t happen. I’m going to cut Marcus’s life short with as much thought as he gave when he cut ties with me,” Malakaro says to Pryor before turning to Marcus. “What happened that day? Did you mull over leaving me with your wife? Did you discuss it with your team or keep it to yourself? What is the process for leaving your flesh and blood behind? Did you agonize over it for weeks or months? Maybe it was something you decided to do between missions when you had time off,” Malakaro demands.
“I wanted to save you, but you were too far gone, too dark even at a young age. You were cruel, Jason.”
“I was strong! I was passionate! I was powerful!”
“You were stone cold. Hard. Dark,” Marcus says with regret in his voice.
“So being left behind was my fault?”
“Jason, we don’t need to dwell on this. We can figure something else out. You don’t have to be this cruel. You don’t have to make her watch,” Marcus says.
“No! You need to watch the pain in her eyes as she watches you die. That needs to be the last thing you see before you close your eyes and give in to death.” Malakaro rages.
“Aaden, don’t let her see. Please. Don’t let her watch,” Marcus begs.
“SILVER, IF YOU LET PRYOR LOOK AWAY FOR EVEN ONE SECOND, I’LL MAKE THE LAST AKON CARVE HIS GUTS OUT AND FEAST ON THEM,” Malakaro promises.
The team and I look at each other. We’re powerless and horrified. Marcus keeps telling Pry to close her eyes and that he loves her. He tells her that she and Emmy mean the world to him. Pryor is still banging on the barrier. She bangs so hard I hear the bones in her hand breaking. I hold her back so she doesn’t injure herself even further. She fights me, but I hold her as tight as I can.
It all happens in slow motion. Malakaro signals for Makayla to bite Marcus, who is barely holding on. The animal does as she’s told. She takes a chunk out of Marcus’s leg. Marcus convulses for several moments. Malakaro pours the vial of poison, originally intended for him, all over Marcus’s open wound. Suddenly the color drains from his face and his wings become very still.
“The vial worked on
you. You are now as powerless as you made me when you left. And now, our story ends. But know this, Marcus, I have only begun to torture your family.”
“Jason…no,” Marcus whispers as a tear runs down his face.
“If you had it to do all over again, would you still choose them over me?” Malakaro asks.
“Yes,” Marcus says as his life force begins to fade. Malakaro instructs Makayla to inflict one final blow. The First Guardian is too weak to cry out. With his powers gone now, he’s a mere human quickly bleeding out from a wound.
“Good-bye, Dad,” Malakaro says, sounding more like a heartbroken boy than the root of all evil.
Marcus, desperate to hold on to what matters to him the most as he passes away, whispers his family members’ names repeatedly, “Emmy, Pryor, Sam, Emmy, Pryor, Sam, Emmy, Pryor, Sam, Emmy, Pryor, Sam. Emmy, Pryor, Sam. Emmy, Pryor, Sam, Emmy, Pryor, Sam, Emmy, Pryor, Sam…Jason.”
Chapter Twenty-Four:
Even Angels
The days that follow Marcus’s death are filled with sorrow too hard to put into words. It feels as if the angel world goes silent. The First Guardian’s sudden absence renders everyone in the angel world hollow with grief. Even the Paras who have issue with us go into mourning. Love him or hate him, there is no denying it, the death of Marcus Cane is a great loss.
The farewell to Marcus took two days. On the first day, Time arranged it so that the human world would be on pause for a full day. Every human on the planet was frozen while the Paras gathered on mountaintops and illuminated in his honor. The Paras sang soulful, haunting songs to give voice to their sadness. Angels from all over the world gathered in Upstate New York to say good-bye. Bex, along with the Original Paras, caused a meteor shower to rain down in Marcus’s memory.
The next day was dedicated to saying good-bye to the human part of Marcus’s life, with a traditional funeral. The First Guardian’s coffin was in a glass carriage pulled by two black horses. Thousands of beings lined the street to watch the funeral procession pass by. They bowed their heads as the horses drew near.
The members of the Guardian team flew alongside the body. The Noru team followed in a black limo. When we got out of the car, a slew of doves performed a complex and graceful dance; the Omari stood by the carriage and bowed before it. The remaining Guardians walked their leader’s coffin inside the temple. They were followed by hundreds of angels, Quo, and a few dozen humans, in addition to Time and Fate.
Once the ceremony began, Jay, Miku, and my dad all spoke. They talked about his courage, his determination, and how fiercely protective he was of his team and his family. My dad recalled how many times he tried to kill Marcus.
“No matter what happened, you just can’t kill that guy; believe me, I’ve tried,” Dad joked. That made the crowd laugh a little. It also gave the rest of the Guardian team permission to recall the fun and happy times they had with their leader.
They shared inside jokes about his first days in training and how awful he was. They laughed as they recalled the days when he was an uncertain leader and would give every order as a question. They remarked that in the end, Marcus wasn’t just a good leader, he was extraordinary.
The second-to-last being that was supposed to speak was Pry, but she declined. Instead she stood next to her mom at the podium and held her hand firmly; it was time for Death to speak. Or at least she was supposed to; instead she was silent. But the whole room could feel her pain because the ground started to shake. We waited with bated breath, praying she could hold it together.
Her emotions were too strong for words. Her loss was too profound. And who could blame her? It was nearly impossible to think that the love affair that was “Marcus and Emmy” was over. The two of them had been through so much; it was hard to fathom that this was, in fact, the end.
Emmy looked like she’d aged ten years and lost a good fifteen pounds. Her skin was pale and her eyes were a faded purple. She held on to the podium as the weather outside changed from bright skies to dark and brooding clouds.
Everyone was on high alert, ready to take her into the light if she couldn’t handle her emotions. However, she didn’t want to go. She was adamant about never wanting to be separated from her daughter ever again. So Emmy focused on her only reason for living: Pryor. Her desire not to be parted from her child allowed Emmy to rein in her emotions long enough to speak.
“There are times when I don’t know what is right and what’s wrong. Sometimes I am conflicted, frustrated, and weary. It seems like nothing is clear or certain. But then I think about Marcus and I am reminded that there is one thing that is certain: when Marcus Cane loves you, you are saved.
“That is exactly what he did for me; he loved me. And that saved me. His love was strong, all consuming, overwhelming, and yes, at times his love got on my damn nerves. But it was always there. His love never faltered. Never weakened. And it never stopped.
“There were times we made each other crazy. We hurt each other for things that didn’t matter. But in the end, I knew he would protect me. I knew I could go out and face demons because I was loved by an angel unlike any other. I knew that no matter how cruel the world was, I could always seek shelter in his arms, in his heart.
“When I told Marcus he was going to be a parent for the first time, he were excited, but also terrified. However, he refused to admit it. The first time I left him alone with our little girl, she was only a few months old. I asked him if he was sure he didn’t need me to get a babysitter. He was offended. He said, ‘Em, I have killed super demons and saved the world. I think I can handle a toddler.’
“Well, we had a supply of a rare mixture called Truce. It temporarily multiplies the being that drinks it. Pry had gotten into the cabinet with the vials and she drank one. It tasted so good to her, she drank all fifteen vials. When I came home, there were about forty Pryors running around the house.
“They were flying around the room, breaking things, writing on the walls, and making it ‘snow’ by throwing an open box of laundry detergent into the air. Meanwhile, the real Pryor waited until Marcus was distracted, got on a Port, and ended up in Shanghai. She popped in on a lovely little family of humans who were having their dinner. By the time Marcus got her back, it was well past midnight.
“I walked into the house; it looked like a tornado had hit it. And sleeping in the middle of the living room was a defeated First Guardian and a tuckered-out toddler, both snuggled together under a big pointy Chinese hat. I couldn’t help but laugh at him. After that day we had to figure out a way to work as a team so that the kids never outnumbered us. We had to learn to be a team. And that’s what we were, no matter what; we were a team.
“When Sam died, I wanted to die too. But my husband wouldn’t let me. He reminded me that no matter how hard it may be, we had to keep going. We had to stay together as a family and keep fighting to be happy.
“Back when I was human, a virus made me very sick. I was about to die, and Marcus knew that. We sat under the white tree, he held me in his arms, and he asked me a very unfair question. He said, ‘Emmy, how am I supposed to live in a world you’re not in?’
“Well, you’re gone now, Marcus, and I’m asking you: How am I supposed to live in a world you’re not in? Marcus, you always told me that life was a mission, and we do not give up on a mission. But then you left me. Why did you leave me? Why did you give up on us? Why did you leave me? I can’t do this without you. I can’t…” Death sobbed loudly and crumpled to the ground.
My father raced to help Pry hold her up. When he got to Emmy, she clung to him and wept. Pryor looked back at me desperately; she could have burst into tears at any moment. I headed over to her, as did the rest of the team, but she forced herself to stay controlled and calm for her mom’s sake.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she lied; in the meanwhile, thunder and lightning raged outside. The wind banged on the windows until they gave in and shattered. Everyone stood up and went to block the windows, but there was no blocking the wr
ath of the wind. It blew open the heavy oak doors of the temple and hurled every piece of furniture across the room.
The Guardians and Noru took action, helping the Quos and humans seek shelter. My dad shouted at Pry not to worry and that he would get her mom to calm down. But the wind was so strong, it ripped the roof off the temple.
“Dad! You have to make her stop!” I shouted.
“I got it, just get everyone to safety,” he yelled. Emmy’s emotion amounted to that of a supercell tornado. We barely had a chance to seek shelter when the intensity of the storm increased yet again.
“I know it hurts, Em. I know,” Dad assured her while he sat on the floor and cradled her in his arms. She groaned and howled with sorrow so deep, it sounded as if she were being tortured. She wailed and wailed as her body shook. Each moan echoed in the vast temple and made us wince.
“Shhh…it’s okay. I got you. I got you,” my dad said as he stroked her hair. It started to work. The wind died down and the lightning stopped. Emmy latched on to my dad as if her very existence depended on it. Suddenly the sky opened back up, but this time it didn’t do so in anger. The sky opened up and cried in the form of blue rain.
Blue rain was a rare occurrence in the angel world. It happened when an angel was so distraught, so heartbroken, that she managed to suck all the blue from the sky. I’d only read about it. I’d never seen it happen in real life. But there we were, under a hail of blue rain that, like Emmy’s suffering, seemed to go on forever.
The blue rain lasted six days. The humans were excitedly doing research to figure out what was causing this unusual occurrence. In the meantime, Time and Fate conferred with each other as to what should be done about Emmy. If she continued the way she was, she would have a lasting impression on the humans. So they came over to the Guardian home and told us that Emmy would be sent back to the light.
“Emmy isn’t going anywhere. She’s staying right here on Earth,” my dad demanded.
