A Candle in the Sun

by L. J. LaBarthe

  “Godspeed,” Gabriel said, giving him a lazy salute.

  “Good luck and God be with you,” Michael said.

  Tzadkiel nodded to them both, and then he and Samael started walking back the way they had come, heading toward the courtrooms.

  “So,” Gabriel said, once he and Michael were alone. “How about tonight?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Michael looked at him in confusion.

  “Tonight. When court closes up for the day. You and me, we’re going to Belle Coeur. You need a night away, a night in peace and harmony, not the noise and confusion of legal maneuvering.”

  Michael pursed his lips as he looked at Gabriel, and Gabriel could see that his lover was trying to find a way to refuse. Then Michael sighed and smiled. “I fear that you would take me there whether I agreed or not.”

  “Aye, you’d be right about that.”

  “Then I accept your suggestion,” Michael said.

  “Good.” Gabriel stood up and moved to sit beside Michael on the bench. He slipped an arm around Michael’s shoulders, gently rubbing his upper arm with his hand. “You’re so tense, solnyshko.”

  “I suppose I am.” Michael leaned into Gabriel with a soft sigh. “I find that I am thinking too much.”

  “Ain’t nothing new about that,” Gabriel said. “Take tonight with me, baby. It’ll do you good to relax a bit.”

  “As you say. Although I will be very glad when these proceedings are over and we can spend uninterrupted time on our island. I will also be glad when Angelique and the others have left here and gone to Puerto Rico, to have their own much needed rest and relaxation.”

  “You worried about how they’ll all react if they happen to bump into Danny?”

  “I am, in truth.”

  “Aye, it’s a problem. I mean, we can’t stop him if he decides to show up on the weekend before the pack’s left. Did you let Angelique borrow a plane?”

  “I said she could take the Blackhawk. She is very fond of that helicopter, and it would be easier to organize storage and the like for it. I have made the necessary arrangements, and the officials were pleased that everything was done in an efficient fashion.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re always efficient,” Gabriel said. He hadn’t meant it as a tease, but Michael snorted.

  “You think it is funny?”

  “No, no, I was being honest. You are efficient and it’s bloody awesome.”

  “Language.” Michael leaned into Gabriel. “I suppose then, as you say.”

  “It’ll all be okay,” Gabriel said.

  “I hope you are right. It is Ahijah who gives evidence this afternoon, is it not?”

  “Aye.”

  “I wish to be present. It is my thought that the retelling of what he has seen and heard will distress him. And Piotr also, for he is to testify afterward.”

  “You’re a good soul, Mishka,” Gabriel said.

  “I strive to be. Shall we head back?”

  “All right.” Gabriel gave Michael’s shoulder a gentle squeeze then let him go and stood up. He held out his hand to his beloved and Michael took it. “Hopefully today won’t end so late.”

  “Indeed,” Michael agreed fervently and Gabriel grinned at his lover’s tone. “I wish to bathe in the sea and rest in our bed, listening to your heartbeat and the sounds of nature on our island. You have put the idea in my head now, you see, and I wish to have this tonight very much.”

  “And so you shall, dear heart.” Gabriel gave Michael a quick kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go back and see this lot of testimony over with and then we can go home for a bit.”

  “As you say.”

  Hand in hand, they walked back to the court building and made their way to the chambers where the case was being tried. The gallery was just as full as it had been since the trial’s beginning, Gabriel saw, and he nodded to Tzadkiel, Raziel, and Uriel as he and Michael entered the room and took their seats. A few moments later, the judges entered, and then the trial resumed, with Ahijah being sworn in.

  “How do you think his testimony will affect the assembled?” Michael asked Gabriel in an undertone.

  “Hard to say. I reckon the ones that’ll really blow their minds are what the kids will say next week.”

  “As you say.”

  They fell silent as the prosecution began to ask Ahijah questions about what he had seen and experienced. Ahijah’s responses were clear and calm, his voice neutral in tone, and he kept his composure. When the prosecution sat, the defense lawyer rose and straightened his jacket.

  He was a small man with a portly build, and his thinning hair had the sheen of too much pomade. He crossed the room to stand in front of Ahijah, and to Gabriel’s critical eye, it seemed as if he was examining Ahijah underneath a microscope. A sudden feeling of dread filled Gabriel and he tensed, grabbing Michael’s hand.

  “Brace yourself,” he said to his lover. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

  He felt Michael’s eyes on him but didn’t turn to look at his lover, gazing intently at the lawyer.

  “Mr. Ahijah Ben-Semjaza, am I correct?”

  “Yes,” Ahijah said.

  “You’ve chosen to use the Hebrew for your full name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why is that? You’re not Jewish, are you?”

  “No. My origins are far more ancient than that.”

  “Ah yes,” the lawyer said. “You’re a Nephilim, I’m told. Half-angel, half-human, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. Now, isn’t it true that others like you, other Nephilim, were for centuries—millennia, actually—persecuted as being abominations by all angels and demons? Because of the crime of being half-breeds?”

  Gabriel stiffened, heard Michael gasp beside him, saw Raziel and Uriel a short distance away lean forward in their seats. Ahijah canted his head to one side as he regarded the lawyer.

  “Abomination is a rather strong word.”

  “It is, I agree, but isn’t that how your relatives thought of you?” The lawyer smiled a smarmy little smile. “They were ordered by God, so the story goes, to hunt down and kill all Nephilim for being abominations because they—you—were not part of the natural order of evolution, because you were all not part of this reality?”

  Ahijah quirked an eyebrow. “That’s a rather interesting interpretation of history you have.”

  “Is it? I thought I described it rather well. In fact, the books of scripture called the Apocrypha talk about it at great length. There’s even a version of the story of Noah that says that Semjaza had some of his Nephilim offspring kill two of Noah’s children and take their place on board his ark, thereby ensuring their survival.”

  “Semjaza was imprisoned in the stars before Noah was even told to build the ark,” Ahijah said.

  “Was he? How do you know? Were you there?”

  Ahijah smiled at that. “As a matter of fact, yes, I was. I was with my mother, Ishtahar, when Gabriel—you might know him better as the Archangel of War—sentenced Semjaza to eternal imprisonment.”

  “And you remember these events after so long? You have a remarkable memory, Mr. Ben-Semjaza.”

  “Put it down to me being what you call an abomination,” Ahijah drawled.

  The lawyer smiled again. “Of course. But isn’t it true that the Archangels were told that Nephilim were not to be part of this plane of reality?”

  “Yes.”

  “So then my client’s organization was merely carrying out God’s plan, making sure that each life form be restricted to their own natural realm, that is, the realm in which they were born or created.”

  Ahijah shook his head. “Your argument has some holes in it.”

  “Oh? I thought I summed it rather cogently.”

  “You forgot a few things. About the history. You see, if I and the other Nephilim who survived were slaughtered for being abominations, as you seem to think the situation went, we wouldn’t still be alive. We wouldn’t have been sheltered by the
Archangels’ actions. We wouldn’t have been left alone to live our lives. If God wanted us to cease to exist and to keep everyone in their own pigeonhole, He could have struck us down at any moment. Your client is, by extension of your own words, playing God. Which certainly hasn’t gone too well for him, considering he’s on trial for a list of crimes longer than my arm.”

  The lawyer nodded slowly. “Perhaps. It’s certainly an interesting philosophical question. But then, you should certainly feel sympathy for the aims of my client. Wouldn’t you want to have the Archangels and others banished and made to stay out of this reality? Made to stop interfering?”

  “Objection.” The prosecution lawyer was on his feet. “Leading the witness.”

  “Sustained. Get to the point,” the lead judge said.

  “Of course, sir.” The lawyer paused for a moment. “Do you feel any connection to humans?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you’re half human?”

  “Yes. And because a lot of my friends are human. Most importantly, though, because my mother is human.”

  “I see. You’re quite a contradiction, Mr. Ben-Semjaza.”

  “I’m glad to be that way.” Ahijah smiled thinly.

  “One last question. Were you and your associates planning to entrap my client through Nephilim magic?”

  Ahijah’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. Gabriel ground his teeth together.

  “Why would you think such a thing?” Ahijah asked. “Your client and his people had all sorts of wards up to deflect magic, and there’s the matter of his little coven. There’s no way that I would use Nephilim magic—even if there was such a thing.”

  “You’re saying that you don’t use magic?” The lawyer sounded skeptical.

  “I am. We have longevity, sir, and we have the wisdom that such longevity has given us. But we don’t possess magic.”

  “You can, however, use various means to disguise yourself?”

  “Tricks of deceit, sleight of hand. Not magic as you think of it, with spells and incantations, no. More like… performance magicians who put on the spectacular shows in Las Vegas.”

  “I see. No more questions.” The lawyer turned and returned to his seat.

  Gabriel let out a slow breath. “What the fuck was that?” he muttered.

  Michael didn’t scold him. “We must speak with Tzadkiel.”

  The judge called a recess then, and Gabriel and Michael were on their feet and moving as one, crossing the room to join Raziel, Uriel, and Tzadkiel.

  “What the hell?” Gabriel asked. “That line of questioning… what the fuck was that about?”

  Tzadkiel’s expression was grim. “I need to talk to the Archdemons. Can you hold the fort here until I get back?”

  Michael nodded. “We will,” he said. “I will go and speak with Ahijah.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Uriel said.

  Gabriel sighed. “I guess we’re postponing our night together, then, huh?”

  Michael nodded again. “I am afraid so. My apologies.”

  “No, it’s okay. This is too important. Go. Raz and I will see if we can pick up anything from the bad guys.”

  Raziel grinned, although it looked more like a snarl. “Eavesdropping for profit, eh? What a good idea.”

  “Call us when you return, Tzadkiel,” Michael said.

  “Right.”

  “THEY MUST have a mole who’s spying on us,” Ondrass said. His voice was low and furious and Adramelek paused in his pacing to regard his friend.

  “Are you sure?” Tzadkiel asked.

  “No, of course I’m not sure, but it’s the most logical explanation. How else would that fucker know to ask Ahijah about the Nephilim?” Ondrass began to pace, and Adramelek decided to stop. There wasn’t enough room in the small side chamber they were in for both of them to pace at once.

  “Any idea who it is?” Tzadkiel asked.

  “Oh, I’ve plenty of ideas, but nothing concrete.” Ondrass was scowling ferociously.

  “Where’s Markus?” Adramelek asked suddenly.

  “What?” Ondrass looked at him sharply.

  At the same time, the door opened, and Markus slid into the room. His expression was one of triumph, but he stopped short as he took in the ferocious expressions of Adramelek’s companions. Although, Adramelek thought, his own expression probably was quite foreboding as well.

  “I take it that this isn’t a good time?” Markus asked.

  “I am not in a good mood, Markus,” Ondrass said. “The idea of there being a traitor in our midst is annoying me.”

  “Ah, yes. Well, perhaps what I’ve come to tell you will cheer you up.”

  “Spit it out,” Ondrass growled.

  Markus spread his hands in a gesture that Adramelek thought was intended to placate. Judging by Ondrass’s expression, it was doing anything but. “I’ve had a look around and listened at keyholes—so to speak. And it turns out that our lawyer friend is nothing more than a very well-read man. He was a Jesuit priest in training for a while, you see, and while in the seminary or whatever it’s called, he read all the books in the Apocrypha. He became quite passionate about the Book of Enoch and the story of the Grigori and the Nephilim, which is backed up in that one verse in Genesis. He left the church and became a travelling preacher when his views were rejected by the Jesuits. While on the road, he met Mr. Edwards and they had some long conversations. Or so I assume. Anyway, they met, found they had compatible ideas and beliefs, and Mr. Lawyer went back to school in New York, becoming a member of the bar after graduating with honors with his law degree. Since then, he’s been the Edwards family lawyer.”

  “That’s it?” Tzadkiel asked. “Nothing else?”

  “That’s it. Sometimes, things don’t have large reasons for being. They just are. In this case, Mr. Edwards and his lawyer share ideology and are old friends. That’s why they knew so much about Ahijah’s lineage and the orders you were given, Archangel.”

  Ondrass took a deep breath and nodded. “I see.”

  “I think that we’ve gotten so used to expecting great, dramatic reasons for things happening that when we get something as prosaic as, ‘he read a bunch of books,’ we’re a little offended that it isn’t more bombastic,” Adramelek mused. “I’ll admit that I was expecting you to walk in with some information that would lead us to ripping out all of Transom’s people’s souls with a selection of ivory toothpicks.”

  “What a revolting analogy,” Tzadkiel said. “You’re right, though.”

  Adramelek grinned at that. “We’re too old for this, Tzadkiel. We’re old and we expect the worst, and sometimes—a lot of the time in fact—reasons aren’t as grand as we think they should be.”

  “I suppose. Though the others aren’t going to be happy.”

  “They are not alone,” Ondrass said. He sighed and shook his head. “You are very right about us being too old for this, Adry. And I think there’s an element of the past several decades playing into what we expect. The war drew on all kinds of power from both sides of the theological divide. Then we had black market trade in kidnapped angels, followed up with Semjaza. All of these things have been full of drama, pathos—they’ve been, as you said, bombastic. But the world isn’t always that way; we’ve just become used to it because that’s been the way of things for decades. And as the century winds toward its end, so does the drama. It’ll take a bit to get used to, but it will be good to have a few quiet centuries. Perhaps peace and harmony will become the natural order of things and we can all exist in contentment, thanks to Lord Lucifer’s treaty with God.”

  Tzadkiel’s lips twitched but he didn’t smile. “You all sound like you’re preparing to retire.”

  “Good grief, no,” Ondrass said. He sounded scandalized, and Adramelek laughed. “Retire? No! This planet has far too much of value, far too much entertainment for me to retire and take up knitting or something.”

  “Scrapbooking,” Adramelek said. “I can see you really getting into s
crapbooking. Or quilting.”

  “Shut up. I can just imagine you being wholly invested in stamp collecting,” Ondrass retorted. Adramelek laughed again.

  “Well, while you two compare hobbies that will calm your souls and entertain you into your dotages, I’m going to go and let the others know,” Tzadkiel said. “Though just to be on the safe side, I’ll ask Remiel and Raziel to put up wards around the rooms where we’re all staying.”

  “We should do the same,” Adramelek said, now serious. “Melcherisa and Lix Tetrax will need to be told.”

  “Markus,” Ondrass said, moving to him, “you are amazing. Thank you for seeking out this very important information.” Then he leaned down, cupped Markus’s face in his hands, and kissed him.

  Adramelek blinked, surprised at the display of emotion from Ondrass, who usually kept such things very private. He wasn’t the only one, to judge by the way that Markus’s arms flailed for a moment before he settled his hands on Ondrass’s shoulders. Adramelek cleared his throat and looked away. “I’ll be in the bar if anyone wants me,” he said, not expecting an answer.

  He wasn’t particularly surprised that none was forthcoming as he left the room, leaving Ondrass and Markus alone together.

  “Well,” Adramelek said to himself, “I suppose it’s appropriate as any other reaction.” Seeing Lix Tetrax and Melcherisa down the hall, he rolled his shoulders once and walked toward them, intent on joining them before court resumed for the rest of the day.

  “YOU ARE certain?” Michael was glowering at Adramelek. “That is all this is? A well-read legist?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Adramelek looked around the airy halls of the building of the International Court. “Believe me, Michael, I would love nothing more than something like listening devices or spies or magic. But we have to go with the flow and accept that sometimes, there are small reasons for the things that anger us.”

  “He’s right,” Raziel said. “I checked. The lawyer’s very well read and so is Edwards.”

  “How did you check?” Adramelek asked.

  Raziel shrugged. “I read the lawyer’s brain.”