As they neared the city, Garnet ordered the bulk of his forces to remain outside the city limits and get some much-needed rest. There had been little time for sleep, as those who led the expedition felt the pressure of urgency slowly looming larger. Now, however, they could take the time to rest, although they still posted regular sentries and deployed their camp for maximum defense without actually digging in.
Garnet took a jintaal from the paladins – headed by his father, of course – and the officers from Shadow company, as well as Birch and the two Seraphim who accompanied them. Trames and Kala went as well – Garnet claimed he wanted to keep an eye on the slippery old man and wasn’t to the point of chaining him up – as did Gerard and Trebor, who spent most of their time pointing out the beautiful marvels of Medina to anyone who bothered to listen to them. Siran joined them as well, accompanied by a dozen of his Elan’Vital warriors. The elves disappeared into the city ahead of the rest of them, and only occasional glimpses of the fleet warriors could be seen as they slipped from building to building.
The city was laid out in an orderly fashion, with beautiful fountains and crystalline parks visible down streets that intersected the main road on which they traveled. The buildings soared high on every side, surrounding them with breathtaking beauty.
Birch hated it.
The streets were too narrow, because angels had no need of wide avenues to accommodate large numbers of land-bound transports. There were no carts, no dwarven buggies, no beasts of burden to worry about, so the streets were wide enough for an angel or two to fly through comfortably without worrying about brushing wings against the buildings to either side. Because they could fly, angels built upwards, creating towering walls that – to Birch’s mind – threatened to crash down and crush all of them beneath tons of beautiful stone and crystal.
Still, despite his discomfort, there was something hauntingly familiar about the city…. no, about Heaven itself as a whole. It struggled and wormed at the back of his mind, trying to place the feeling of recognition. He knew it was something from his own experience, not borrowed from Kaelus, but still the source of the feeling eluded him.
The flames in Birch’s eyes danced as he struggled with the evasive feeling.
Despite its beauty, the city seemed completely deserted. No doubt every angel and mortal soul was elsewhere in Heaven, fighting the scourge of Hell’s armies. It gave the city a lonesome quality, like the husk of some mighty creature that now lay dead, leaving only the empty cavity of its bones behind.
Nearby, Danner and Flasch rode by in their buggy with Marc and Guilian in the back seat. Keeping his eyes on the road, Danner leaned close to Flasch and said, “So how’re things going with you and Garnet’s sister?”
“W..What?” Flasch asked, startled. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, Flasch,” Marc said good-naturedly from behind them, “we’ve all seen how you look at her.”
“If you don’t know you’re interested, then you’re probably the only one,” Guilian chimed in.
“You’re one to talk, Guilian,” Flasch retorted, then abruptly snapped his mouth shut.
“What’s this?” Marc asked.
“Nothing,” Guilian said apprehensively.
“Does this have anything to do with you and that human woman?” Danner asked.
“What?” Marc exclaimed, then looked around to see if anyone noticed his sudden outburst. He said more quietly, “What are you talking about?”
Guilian stared stupidly at Danner. “How… how did you know?”
Flasch smiled wryly. “Guilian, you’ve only been spending time with her for the last two and a half months, at least since I’ve noticed it. She’s the only person we ever see you around besides us, and twice I’ve caught her sneaking out of your room at some truly horrendous hours of the morning.”
Danner glanced up and looked at Guilian in a mirror set on his dashboard.
“I saw you head off in her general direction one night before we crossed the Binding,” Danner said. “Took me a bit by surprise.”
“You both knew?” Guilian asked, stunned.
Danner shrugged. “I think more people know that you might think, Guilian.”
“Guilian, with a human woman?” Marc wondered.
“Which apparently doesn’t include Marc,” Flasch added impudently.
Guilian shook his head in wonder and chagrin.
“We didn’t want anyone to know,” he said. “We weren’t sure how people were going to react. Then I met Kala and saw how people accepted her, and I started to wonder, but… Still, I was afraid to tell anyone.”
“After our history with Shadow Company, you were afraid to tell us?” Flasch asked. “I’m almost insulted.”
“It wasn’t you all so much as my family and the other denarae, like Brican,” Guilian admitted. “We all know feelings run both ways about our two races, and we weren’t sure if people would accept us being together. Sirla and I just thought we’d keep it a secret as long as we could and hope we found a good time to tell everyone before someone found out anyway.”
Marc laughed.
“Then you’re an idiot, Guilian,” Marc said. “You live in a community of mind-readers, and you expect to keep a secret? I know denarae can block their thoughts, and Brican even commented on your doing just that, but all that does is make people curious. I’ll admit, I had no idea, but if you think there aren’t plenty of men in the company who already know, then… well, I think I already pointed out you’re an idiot.”
“And I imagine,” Flasch added, “that if any of them were offended, they would have already confronted you about it. Given how chummy Brican and Kala are, I’d be willing to bet even he won’t have a problem with it once the initial shock wears off. That’s assuming he doesn’t already know, too.”
Danner nodded in affirmation.
“You really think so?” Guilian asked.
“We’re your friends, Guilian,” Marc said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Trust us.”
Guilian smiled in relief, then glanced down as Flasch turned around, and he eyed the Violet paladin with a suspicious eye. Guilian leaned over to Marc and murmured, “Notice how Flasch neatly avoided Danner’s question?”
“I saw that, yeah,” Marc agreed. “Should we call him on it?”
Guilian shook his head. “Let him think he’s gotten away with it for now. We’ll pounce later.”
Marc chuckled.
“You know, Guilian, I like you a lot better when you’re not all frozen and stiff,” Marc said. Guilian glowered at him, but Marc just winked and both men burst out laughing.
- 2 -
Uriel entered the Hall of the Throne last, and he reduced his height slightly and covered himself in a thick robe borrowed from one of the larger human paladins. With the presence of so many immortals and half-breeds, he hoped Maya wouldn’t notice his presence right away. If he could remain unnoticed, he might be able to use his power more effectively, if only to distract Maya at some key moment.
“Make no mistake,” Uriel had told the mortals earlier, “in this room above all other places in Heaven, her power will reign supreme. If we are to break her hold, it will not be through brute force.”
The Hall loomed about them like the inside of some titanic monster, and they all were swallowed whole to feed its greedy belly. Uriel remembered such mammoths in the mortal realm, sea beasts that could have eaten a dragon in only a few mouthfuls. Thankfully they had all died out millennia before man had evolved, leaving no trace beyond a few fossilized bones buried beneath the deepest depths of the oceans.
Pillars of swirling color soared to the ceiling far above, and numerous statues of angels in various poses of glory and beauty were artistically arranged throughout the Hall. The floor was made of perfectly smooth crystal, which allowed Uriel to see through to a cavern of shining crystals directly beneath them. Eons ago, Gabriel, ever the romantic poet, had compared it to walking on a sea of glass.
Thre
e pairs of fountains were spaced across the length of the Hall, each pair flowing with one of the three waters of Heaven. The Mustion, river of music and joy. The Alethion, river of truth and light. The Philion, river of love and healing.
The waters of the Mustion were all but invisible, but a stream of soul-easing music poured forth from the fountain, winding about the mortals and disarming them with feelings of happiness and contentment. The Alethion poured out as a stream of golden light but made no sound as it bubbled down the marble contours of the fountains. The Philion alone resembled water such as the mortals thought of it, and there was nothing a non-immortal could physically perceive about it to distinguish the Philion from crystal-clear water from the mortal world.
Uriel felt Mikal extending his power to shield the mortals from the inconvenient effects of the three rivers. He doubted Kaelus could – or rather would – do anything at this time to help, and Uriel certainly dared not lend his support to Mikal, lest he reveal himself prematurely. Fortunately, the Seraph had apparently benefited from his brief time in the mortal realm – Mikal seemed stronger and surer of himself than ever before. Prior to his departure, Mikal had been slightly less powerful than Uriel. Now, however, it seemed the tables had turned, and Uriel found himself yielding to his old friend. What had happened on the mortal world to so empower him?
“The reluctant Wrath of God returns,” a musical voice said, filling the hall. “How pleased I have been with your success, dear Thanatos, however limited is has been. When you return, you must embrace your role if you are to bring us the help we need.”
Ahead of them all, raised on a dais seven steps above them, the Throne shone with a golden radiance that nearly obscured the figure sitting within. Even Uriel gasped in affront at the sight of Maya sitting on the Throne.
The Throne of God was beyond description; even to immortal eyes, it was all but impossible to accurately see and describe the seat of divine power. Still, despite its brilliance, it neither blinded Uriel with radiance nor caused him any discomfort. It was a comforting, embracing light. From experience, he knew that the blessed dead experienced the same sensations, and no doubt the living mortals – with the possible exceptions of Danner and Birch – would be unable to penetrate the golden illumination to see the woman within.
“Maya, you dare!” Mikal barked sharply. “No one may sit in the Throne except for the Almighty God Himself.”
“I am Metatron,” Maya said loftily, “and I speak for God. In His absence, I remain, and I sit where I choose.”
“I never dreamed even you would dare presume,” Mikal growled. “When I left on your ill-begotten quest to slay mortals, you were still standing beside the Throne. That itself was presumption, but this… this is sacrilege!”
“Sacrilege?” Maya laughed, a musical sound that nevertheless carried an undertone of threat and danger. “My dear Thanatos, I am Metatron. How could I possibly…”
“You are no more Metatron than I am Thanatos,” Mikal said sharply. “I am Mikal, as I have always been, and no longer will I fall prey to your lies and misguided influence.”
The light from the Throne flared briefly, and Uriel saw Maya’s golden eyes flash dangerously.
“You dare,” she hissed. Then she laughed and relaxed back indolently in the Throne. “Foolish Mikal, if you insist on such trivial defiance, you seem to forget who holds the power of Heaven. For ages untold, I have held sway, ordained by God Himself to hold power in His absence. Since the dawn of mortal life, I have sought to create the true paradise here, a world of only the purest good. God saw my efforts and bade me take over Heaven when our poor brother Gabriel fell, and it was through my leadership that the demons were driven out and Pleroma sundered.”
“I seem to remember Uriel and I playing no small part,” Mikal said, but Maya went on as if he didn’t exist.
“With the expulsion of evil, Heaven had its first chance to become something more, something good, something pure. I have ever striven toward that goal, and I have finally made it possible. God Himself has shown me the way, and God Himself keeps me enthroned here. Could I even sit in His Throne without divine permission?”
Maya laughed again, and Mikal looked at her with growing horror.
“What have you done?” Mikal whispered. Uriel watched his friend sadly as Mikal came to realize the extent of Maya’s corruption. He hadn’t dared tell his friend what he knew or what he suspected, lest Mikal let something slip and tip their hand that Uriel was amongst them.
“Ask yourself, as an angel of God, from whence does evil spring in men?” Maya asked. “Angels cannot do evil, for it is against our God-given nature. Demons cannot do good, it is likewise against their Satan-spawned existence. Only mortals have the capacity for both, and why? Because they can choose. Even in death, the blessed dead have always created problems here, with their incessant bickering and malcontent. Adhering to the most stringent policies of admitting them here, still each soul contains within it the seeds of evil waiting to sprout.
“Good and evil, guilt and innocence, they are only a matter of timing.”
Mikal’s sense of horror grew as he finally saw what Maya had done.
“You’ve taken away their free will,” Mikal said. His fists clenched and his body shook as he fought to control the rage building within him. The six wings on his back fluttered in silent agitation as though itching to flare and bear him into battle.
“Not taken away,” Maya said, shaking her head, “that has proved impossible so far. I have merely extended my influence to, shall we say, dampen their inclination to choose, effectively restricting them from the more unpleasant facets of human nature. Have you seen the blessed dead? They are all immensely happy here; most barely even remember the drudgery and baseness of their former lives.”
Maya stood from the Throne and took two steps down the stairs toward them, leaving the radiance of the Throne behind her. She raised her arms and her six pink-hued wings spread triumphantly behind her, then she tossed her head and golden-silver hair fell back over her shoulders. Uriel noticed absently that she was completely naked, disdaining even the basic robes that most angels wore. Immortals had no natural genitalia of any sort to expose – although they could simulate them if they so chose, which few did. Even so, total nakedness was considered indecent. Uriel had never stopped to question the taboo.
“Everyone is pleasant, polite, and considerate of each other. There is no jealousy, no treachery, no hatred, and no violence. There are no lies, no thefts, no ill-thoughts, no sins of any kind,” Maya proclaimed proudly. “I have created a world without fear, a paradise of contentment, and a garden of love.”
She stopped halfway down the stairs, and now even the mortals could clearly see the porcelain image of perfect beauty that stood before them.
“This is my gift to all of creation, mortal and immortal alike,” Maya said grandly. Her voice echoed in the cavernous Hall
- 3 -
Kaelus listened to the self-righteous sermon, and his rage built swiftly. The fires of his eyes blazed fiercely through the mortal eyes of his host, and as one – Kaelus and Birch together – they seethed with rage over the words of the self-proclaimed Metatron. Finally, the demon within Birch decided his time had come – now would be the moment of his exorcism, and the two that had come so far from the depths of Hell would finally separate completely.
On the heels of Maya’s grand proclamation, Kaelus roared his fury and forced himself out from his human host. Birch threw back his head and his shout echoed the timbre of Kaelus’s own bellow as he poured forth in a cloud of crimson. Kaelus allowed his shape to fully form as he extricated himself from his host, and with a surge of power he became wholly corporeal and dropped to the ground a few feet in front of Birch. The Gray paladin staggered back and fell to his knees, where he was immediately steadied by the Green paladin Perklet.
Kaelus flexed his black, leathery wings and shook his fists, rattling the shackles that remained from his captivity in Hell. He towered
over the mortals in the room with a physique a balrog would envy, and his ebony horns curved forward above his forehead before swooping back over his head. His flesh was the color of old blood, and Kaelus’s eyes burned with a blue fire, unlike the eyes of his former host which still burned crimson. Weakened by the transition, Kaelus nevertheless roared in furious joy as he momentarily reveled in his freedom.
When he focused on the so-called King of Heaven, Kaelus grinned fiercely at her obvious shock and fear. Maya stammered and fell back onto the stairs as she stared at Kaelus incredulously and with growing fear.
“What’s the matter, Maya, don’t you recognize me?” Kaelus rumbled. Behind him, he could sense the amazement of the mortals and immortals he’d come in with, and mingled with it was some understandable fear. Even knowing who he was, the sight of a demon suddenly appearing fully fleshed would be enough to rattle any mortal. Most of them had seen his discorporate appearance, but that paled in comparison to actually being in his presence – the difference between a half-glimpsed dream and abrupt reality. Despite having been imprisoned for countless eons, Kaelus was still one of the most powerful entities in existence, and his presence was felt by those around him.
“Kaelus?” Maya whispered.
Mikal came to stand beside him, and now all trace of the gray Angel of Death had finally vanished. Mikal shone with a soft saffron glow, and his six wings gleamed a deep emerald color. In his hand he carried a gleaming sword that emitted a piercing white light.
“Indeed, my brother has returned from his captivity,” Mikal said, laying a hand on Kaelus’s shoulder. They both withheld a wince as they touched for the first time with both in their true, unmediated shapes. Despite Kaelus’s inclination toward good, he was still of the stuff of demons, and the touch of an angel was painful to them both.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 27
