Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3)

by Brian J Moses

  Danner gazed at him, his face inscrutable. Even his anger was now hidden behind an unreadable mask.

  “I remember I thought I saw something strange a few times that day,” Danner said impassively, “but when I tried to look directly at it I couldn’t see anything. I only dimly remember that I happened to be looking at any of the men who died at the time.”

  “Well, with the exception of those three deaths, we’ve also noticed an alarming trend in their association to your sleeping.” Garnet noted the puzzled tilt of Danner’s eyebrows – the only change in his expression – and hurried on. “Several of the deaths have occurred when you were known to be asleep. Or supposedly asleep, I should say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve said yourself that when you wake up you feel like you didn’t get any sleep at all,” Garnet said. “Marc’s got a theory that involves your being somehow influenced by the ongoing war in Heaven. Basically, that you’ve been sleepwalking, and while you were up and about, you’ve been attacking people. It’s far-fetched,” Garnet said, holding up a hand as he saw Danner about to object, “but it makes a twisted sort of sense. Combine that with the identities of the last couple people, and we have a potential problem.”

  “What about their identities?” Danner asked. “I barely knew Alister, and we both trained with Maki, for San’s sake.”

  “Exactly. Alister was somewhat less than complimentary toward Shadow Company during our expedition, and I know you heard the stories, same as everyone else,” Garnet said. Danner grunted. “It’s no stretch to think he’s pretty low on your list of amicable people right now.”

  “I’ll give you that,” Danner conceded. “I thought at first he might bely the decent men theory, but even racist jackasses can be devoted men of God, so it hardly seems a reason to kill him. But Maki? He saved Alicia’s life! I owe him more than I could ever say.”

  Garnet shook his head. “That’s true, but did you see the way he looked at Alicia? He had a crush on her, ever since that incident during the war. He tried to hide it, because he respected you and probably knew Alicia’s helplessly in love with you, but you could see it whenever he looked at her.”

  Danner actually looked surprised.

  “I didn’t know that,” Danner said. “I mean, I know he gets, I mean he got a little red-faced, but I’ve seen him do the same around a couple other pretty girls. I always just figured he was the shy sort.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Garnet said, “but we can’t rule out the possibility that you noticed it subconsciously. Think back to your training days, and the classes in philosophy. We notice a lot more than we think, no pun intended.”

  Garnet could see the internal struggle going on in Danner’s mind.

  “There’s more, but not much,” Garnet said. “When Flasch went to wake you up earlier, you shouted something in the immortal tongue. Marc translated it: ‘Death comes. Death is among us. Death slays the virtuous.’ Now we’re not sure what you meant, but it’s strikingly similar to the conclusion we all reached about the nature of these deaths. They’re all good, virtuous men, and the fact that you just pointed that out to me a few minutes ago indicates that thought has been lurking somewhere in your head.

  “On some level, you’ve been aware of what’s going on,” Garnet continued, “and as much as I hate to say it, and as strange as it sounds, we have to examine the possibility that Marc is right. You may be acting out under some sort of influence without your even being aware of it. Unless you can think of an alternative, that is.”

  “Alternatives? Sure, plenty,” Danner said, grunting bitterly, “but they’re all even less likely than Marc’s theory. I don’t like it, and I don’t think he’s right, but I honestly can’t prove that he’s wrong.”

  Danner sighed and slumped down on the table. Garnet began to relax. The worst of it was over.

  “So where do we go from here?” Danner asked finally. “What do we do now?”

  “Well, for starters, we’re not leaving this building for at least the next day or so,” Garnet said, “and I want one of us with you at all times. I hope you don’t mind company while you sleep, because you’re going to have it.”

  “I don’t know what Alicia’ll say to that,” Danner said, his lips twitching slightly in the beginnings of a tentative smile. “Just be warned. She steals all the covers.”

  Chapter 8

  Mortals have an ability I find fascinating – they can refuse to believe in God.

  - Kaelus,

  “Collected Accounts from the Pandemonium War”

  - 1 -

  To all outward appearances, Danner bore his confinement in good grace. As he encountered his friends, he made a point of telling them he understood the tough position they were in and that he didn’t hold it against them at all. Privately, Danner wasn’t convinced that was true, no matter how many times he said it to others or to himself. Some part of him was still very hurt that his friends could possibly believe he was capable of outright murder – and of paladins, no less! Of course, they thought he was under some sort of external influence, but still, the thought rankled.

  He did his best to think through the situation, and really, he knew it wasn’t something he should hold against them. Rationalization only went so far, though, and didn’t help the leaden feeling in his body. Neither did it help the gut-twisting fear he experienced when he considered the possibility they might actually be right.

  Who really knows what they do in their sleep? Sure, he had Alicia there beside him, but Danner had been raised as the son of a successful thief and trained under a true master of stealth. It was no stretch of the imagination to think that if Danner was hunting men down in his sleep, slipping out of bed unnoticed would be among the least of his problems.

  Alicia came and stayed with him in his room for a while, holding him and talking to him in turn until he fell asleep. Her presence made his isolation more bearable and she stayed awake as long as they were alone together, but in the morning she left to see to her daily duties. She was immediately replaced by Michael, who brought breakfast and a board to play stones to keep them occupied. Danner’s attention wasn’t on the game, however, and Michael beat him soundly two games out of three.

  Game board in hand, he left with an embarrassed sort of smile.

  Garnet came and stayed with him for a while, but the silence between them was uncomfortable, and he was quickly replaced by Brican and then Marc. Even Guilian took a turn at staying with Danner as night approached, but after their initial greeting they only said a few dozen words to each other. After an hour of relative silence, Danner walked Guilian to the door and stared out across the balcony down into the common room. Already, he saw Flasch moving briskly up the stairs toward him, a pleased smile on his face.

  “You look like a cat in the cream,” Danner said, amused in spite of himself. “What’s up?”

  “We just got word your uncle’s on his way to visit,” Flasch said. “I thought maybe you’d like us to send him up when he gets here.”

  Danner’s smile was considerably more genuine now.

  “Yeah, I’d like that, actually,” he said. The thought of seeing his uncle raised his spirits significantly, and he motioned for Flasch to go past him into his apartments. Danner took another look down into the common room. The rest of his friends were spread out at several tables. Michael and Marc had already started a game of stones, and surprisingly enough, Brican was sitting at a nearby table playing against Janice while Garnet watched. Danner smiled, hoping it boded well for the denarae’s ability to get along with humans.

  Guilian was again sitting apart from the rest, and only a young-looking blonde, human woman was nearby. She was wiping Guilian’s table with a rag, and it was only after a moment’s attention that Danner noticed she’d been wiping the same spot for several minutes. Her lips were moving, and she even smiled rather prettily at one point, but quickly she masked the expression and returned to wiping the same spot on the table.
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  Something strange flickered on the edge of Danner’s awareness, and he looked at a heavily cloaked figure that was standing near a support beam away from the others. Danner’s eyes slid away from the person like he wasn’t even there, and it was only through conscious effort that he refocused on the solitary figure. Strangely, Danner couldn’t seem to actively think of a description: no details of height or weight sprang to mind, nothing about his standing posture. Nothing.

  The only descriptive word Danner could settle on in his mind was gray.

  Danner turned to Flasch, then stopped, his mouth hanging open.

  “What’s up, Danner?” Flasch asked.

  “I don’t know,” Danner said, his mind reeling. “I was going to ask you about something, but damned if I can think of what it was.”

  Flasch shrugged. “If it’s important, you’ll remember. Right?”

  “I guess so,” Danner said.

  “Don’t sweat it, Danner,” the Violet paladin said, clapping a hand on Danner’s shoulder. “It happens to everyone. It’s only a sign of getting old if you’re already over forty.”

  “Thanks,” Danner said with good-natured sarcasm.

  They pulled up chairs at the table in Danner’s outer apartment and reminisced about their training days. Gerard Morningham and his hard-assed but effective instruction; their training in the mountains; Ashfen Diermark’s embarrassing dismissal from the Prism’s training.

  “Whatever happened to him anyway?” Danner asked. “Does anybody know?”

  “I heard he went off and joined the city guard before the war broke out,” Flasch said. “Managed to enter at a sergeant’s rank on account of his training in the Prism, then quickly promoted to lieutenant. After that, it’s anybody’s guess. I don’t even know if he survived.”

  Danner grunted, then asked, “So who all is left from our training class?”

  “Danny Heff is still around,” Flasch said. “I saw him at the Prism just before we went hunting last time. Marc saw Jerome Falkirk the other day, and I heard somewhere that Billy jo’Rashak is getting married soon.”

  “Billy, really?” Danner asked with some surprise. “I always sort of figured he was a little…” Danner trailed off, wavering one hand back and forth.

  “Well, I do know he got Arren Yarest’s eldest daughter pregnant, so I’d put money on straight.”

  “Yarest? From the Prismatic Council?” Danner laughed.

  “The same,” Flasch said with a grin. “Apparently, after he made paladin during the war, Billy figured he was good enough to finally ask her out and start taking her around. Guess they went around one too many times.”

  They both laughed heartily.

  “Who else?” Danner asked. “I’ve totally lost track of everything and everyone lately.”

  “Let’s see,” Flasch said. “Kaleb and Harry both made paladin same time we did, and I think they both made it through okay. And Mak…” Flasch cut off abruptly, shaking his head.

  “Damn,” he murmured.

  “It’s all right,” Danner said. “We lost a lot of friends during the war. Maki’s still just a little too close and fresh.”

  Danner hesitated.

  “Flasch, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said, “about when we found Maki.” The other paladin waved for him to continue. “Garnet said you overheard me saying something in my sleep, something that Marc had to translate.”

  “It was in the immortal tongue, yeah,” Flasch said. “Damn near scared me out of my skin.”

  “What exactly did I say?” Danner said. “Garnet gave me the translation, but something just doesn’t feel right, and it’s making me edgy.”

  Flasch frowned in thought. “I know that language can be tricky, so I can’t promise this the correct pronunciation. It’s close, though.

  “It was, ‘Thanatos eilient. Thanatos ventriis eilist. Thanatos sasilius mortitus,’” Flasch said, only slightly bungling the pronunciation of the words. “Marc said it was death coming, among us, and slaying the virtuous.”

  Danner ran the words through his mind, trying to sort out what was wrong. It had something to do with what he’d forgotten to ask Flasch earlier, he was sure of it. Something about one of the words.

  Thanatos.

  Death.

  Not a word. A name.

  DEATH.

  Danner’s eyes flew open.

  “Dear God, no,” Danner whispered in horror.

  - 2 -

  Birch and Perklet rode up to the Iron Axe on their dakkans and dismounted unhurriedly. Birch slapped Selti’s scaled hide and asked his mount to stay outside.

  “I shouldn’t be but a few minutes, Selti, so behave yourself,” Birch said sternly. “If I decide to sleep here tonight, I’ll let you know so you can come in.”

  “Ask him if he would please keep an eye on Gessup here,” Perklet said, rubbing a hand over his dakkan’s violet-scaled head. “He’s still young and I’ve only had him a few weeks, so I don’t want him wandering off.”

  “Asking Selti to watch over a young dakkan is sort of like inviting a cat to look after your fish,” Birch said, and he received a baleful glare from the gray dakkan, “but we’ll hope for the best.”

  Perklet held the door for Birch to enter the inn, then followed him in.

  Birch glanced around until he caught Moreen’s eye, and he experienced a brief moment of sheer joy as her face lit up in surprise and happiness. They each managed about one step toward each other before a door upstairs was flung open with a resounding crash, and Danner strode out onto the balcony, his wings blazing as he gazed down into the common room.

  Everyone stared up at the vision of angelic fury and several jaws dropped open in surprise. Danner’s eyes burned with blue fire as he quickly scanned the common room.

  “Where’s Garnet?” he asked urgently, his voice booming with the power surging through his body.

  “Danner, what do you think you’re doing?” Michael called. “This is just what Garnet…”

  “Where is he?” Danner thundered, his voice shaking the walls of the common room. “Brican?”

  “Garnet went to use the indoor privy,” the denarae replied in a stunned voice.

  Before anyone could react, the door to the toilet burst into so much kindling and Garnet flew head-first into the common room. He crashed into a table amidst a cloud of splinters and crumpled to the floor, where he lay still. Through the cloud of dust, Birch could barely make out an indistinct shape striding confidently out of the privy.

  With a roar of fury, Danner leapt from the balcony and landed between the shadowy figure and Garnet’s unmoving body. He drew a sword that lit up with blue flames, and finally the stranger stopped his advance. Still, everyone was staring at Danner, completely ignoring the intruder.

  “You will not take him!” Danner challenged the shadowy intruder.

  “Danner, what the Hell do you think you’re doing?” Flasch called from the balcony.

  “Get away from Garnet!” Marc and Brican yelled.

  “Danner!” Alicia screamed.

  “It’s him!” Danner growled. “It’s Death.”

  The shadowy figure stepped to the side, and Danner followed him with his sword and eyes warily. At last, the stranger stepped into the open and Birch got a clear look at him, and he felt a shock surge through his system with the force of a thunderclap. The other man threw back his robes, which disappeared as they fell away from his body, and an eerie gray light shone out from behind him as six glowing, gray-feathered wings unfurled from beneath the suddenly vanished cloth and spread wide. He was garbed in form-fitting, black cloth, and he was inhumanly beautiful to behold.

  “A Seraph,” Birch whispered. His voice carried across the room in the sudden silence. Recognition tingled in Birch’s mind as he stared at the angel’s face, but the name refused to surface.

  “The Angel of Death,” Danner said without ever taking his eyes from the six-winged angel. “He’s the one who’s been slaying paladins.�
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  “What are the two of you talking about?” Michael asked.

  “They can’t see him, Danner,” Birch called, realizing the problem. He had not yet drawn his own sword, not wanting to provoke the death angel.

  “What are you doing here?” Danner asked the angel.

  “It is necessary,” the Angel of Death replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “and my work is finished. He will die.”

  With a glance at his surroundings, he suddenly leapt into the air in a long arc that carried him over Danner and to the main door… right past an unprepared Birch. The Angel of Death bounded through the doorway and leapt into the sky. Danner was only a few seconds behind him as he followed suit. Birch stayed long enough grab Perklet’s shoulder and propel him toward Garnet’s fallen body.

  “See what you can do for him, Perky,” Birch shouted as he spun and dashed outside. Without even thinking of what he was doing, he leapt skyward, following the shining blue light from Danner’s wings.

  Birch’s gray cloak whipped in the wind behind him, and he spared a glance over his shoulder and was shocked to see two glowing-red, leathery wings sprouting from his back as though his clothing and cloak didn’t exist. The two wings beat furiously, and Birch felt the wind whistle past his ears even faster. Too stunned to contemplate the ramifications of this sudden development, he focused instead on catching up to Danner and his angelic quarry.

  After a few minutes concerted effort, Birch managed to catch up to his nephew, who had gained considerably on the gray angel. The Gray and Blue paladins were only a few body lengths behind the Angel of Death.

  “Split up and take him from either side,” Birch shouted over the roaring wind, “but watch yourself. He’s extremely powerful.”

  “So am I,” Danner said, his face grim. Before Birch could warn his nephew to curb his anger, Danner banked to the right and pumped his wings to overtake the death angel. Quickly, Birch followed suit, banking left to approach from the opposite direction.

  Belatedly, Birch remembered to draw his sword, but the blessed metal seared through the thick glove on his hand as though he’d picked up a white-hot ember. Birch was unable to hold on to the blade, and it tumbled down through the night sky into an unlit portion of the city.