“Think nothing of it,” the Blue paladin said with a guileless grin.
“I do,” James muttered.
The trio walked down the hallway, deliberately doing nothing to hide their approach. Their footsteps echoed on the pristine angelstone floor.
The library looked like every other building in Medina – beautiful and cold. There were no paintings, no soft furniture, no alcoves with desks for studying; none of the usual things James expected to find in a library. Except for rooms filled with books, the entire complex was virtually devoid of any decoration or furniture. The building was one of the largest in Medina, but it had taken them over a week just to find it. Hoil’s memory was a little vague, and James was convinced they went in several circles before the former-thief discovered the right place.
The interior of the sprawling building was confusing, with several floors that only seemed to connect to each other in one place that could be used by mortals. There were strategically placed, wide holes in the ceiling and floor, but none of them relished the thought of leaping down through one, especially without knowing for certain they could get back up. Even after searching an entire floor, they had to get back to the only available staircase before proceeding to another. Hoil, of course, didn’t remember exactly what floor he’d been on when he came across the angels, which delayed their search several more days.
James shuddered back from thinking about just how massive the library truly was – a building that took days just to navigate.
The trio turned the corner to where the Cherubim guarded a large double-door made from translucent crystal. One Cherub had a spear ready, the other had his bow out and half-drawn. There was nothing to differentiate these two angels from the others James had seen, except these had a more youthful appearance than most. He didn’t know if that had anything to do with their being Cherubim, but he would have to have a few words with the mortal artists who depicted them as chubby, winged babies. These were lean, warrior-ready angels who looked all too capable with their weapons. Their armor was form-fitting and gleamed with a mirror shine.
“Good day, holy angels,” James said politely.
“And you, teiranon,” one of the Cherubim said guardedly. His companion looked closely at Hoil and said, “We’ve seen you before.”
“Uh, certainly you have,” Hoil said with forced cheerfulness. “I was here a little while back, lost you see, and we chatted a bit.” The two angels nodded. “Well, I came across these two holy warriors in the city who said they were looking for the library, so I brought them back here.”
The Cherubim looked at each other uncertainly.
“You should not have brought them here,” one said.
“Gentlemen,” James said, stepping forward, “I believe you have a friend of mine locked in there.”
The angels immediately lifted their weapons and James found himself staring down the shaft of a crystal-tipped spear while a glowing yellow arrow was aimed at Nuse.
“Easy, easy,” James said, raising his hands away from his sword. “We’re not here to force past you.”
“As if we could,” Nuse muttered.
Neither angel so much as blinked. James took a deep breath.
“Exactly why are you guarding him?” the Yellow paladin asked.
“We were ordered by Metatron to guard him,” one of the angels replied. His companion nodded, then added, “She said he was dangerous and was collaborating with our enemies.”
“Do you even know who’s in there?” James asked. They stared at him blankly. “He’s a paladin.”
The angels looked at each other uncertainly. “We haven’t seen him at all,” the spear-wielder admitted. The archer added, “Metatron told us he was to remain locked in there and never to even open the doors. We’ve heard him knock and call out to us, but we never responded except to say he was under guard.”
James sighed.
“Was that before or after Maya was barred from the Hall of the Throne?” Hoil asked, jumping into the conversation. James and Nuse stared at him in surprise, as did the two Cherubim.
“Haven’t you two heard anything of what’s going on out there?” Hoil asked in exasperation. “Mikal returned from the mortal realm and went with Uriel to the hall, where they found Maya sitting on the Throne.”
“Sacrilege!” the Cherubim gasped in one voice.
“We sort of thought so, too,” Hoil replied. “I wasn’t there to see it, but for her affront, Mikal and Uriel exiled her from the Hall and banned her from ever stepping foot inside again.”
James hadn’t heard all of this yet, and he sincerely hoped Hoil wasn’t making it up. Things would end badly for them if they contacted any other angel and discovered the former thief was lying.
“So you see, gentle angels,” Hoil went on smoothly, “there’s no longer a need to guard this room. I know the man within, and I can assure you, he is not in league with our foes. We were sent here by Uriel himself to locate and liberate our friend from this misunderstanding.” He eyed the two angels, who teetered uncertainly on the brink of acquiescence. “After all,” Hoil said innocently, “you wouldn’t want to incarcerate an innocent man, would you? Restore liberty to a poor, blessed soul, and undo the wrongdoing done him by the false Metatron.”
He paused, then added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “I understand the Seraphim are none too happy with her, and they’re on the lookout for anyone still associated with her as a possible collaborator in her sacrilegious affronts.”
That did it.
The Cherubim backed away and allowed them access to the doors. Nuse tried the handle and found it was locked.
“Will you be going to join the front lines, then?” James asked as he stopped next to them. The pair nodded simultaneously. “What are your names?”
“I am Ithuriel,” said the spear-wielding Cherub said.
“And I am Zephon.”
“Well, gentlemen,” James said, “we’d love to join you, so if you’ll give us a moment to collect our friend, I wonder if we might not prevail upon you to give us a lift.”
“Certainly,” they replied together.
Hoil stared at them speculatively. “You two have been around each other a long time, haven’t you?”
The angels stared at him in perplexity. James glared at Hoil.
“Just ignore him,” James told the angels, then waited expectantly in front of the door.
They stood together a moment in silence before Nuse cleared his throat.
“Ahem, is, uh, anyone going to unlock this door?” the Blue paladin asked pointedly.
The angels looked at each other sheepishly.
“We… don’t have the key,” Ithuriel said reluctantly.
“Meta…” Zephon corrected himself. “Maya had Boel lock it. He keeps keys for nearly every lock in Medina.”
“And let me guess,” Hoil said, rolling his eyes, “Boel is nowhere around.”
The Cherubim shook their heads. Hoil sighed and knelt in front of the lock as he patted his chest. A moment later, he produced a set of lockpicks and set to work. He muttered to himself a moment, squinted into the lock, then tried a different tool.
Finally, he announced, “Hoil’s a genius,” and turned the handle to open the door.
Nuse and James led the way into the room, which like nearly every room in the library was filled with row upon row of stone bookshelves packed from floor to ceiling. The ceiling was over thirty feet up, and James stared in sheer wonder at the sight before him.
“This is definitely Vander’s idea of Heaven,” Nuse said dryly. “Speaking of which, isn’t that him over there?”
James looked and saw an orange-cloaked man sitting with a wall of books behind him. Vander had piled up enough books to create a makeshift desk and chair for him to sit on, and he was hard at work scratching in a notebook with a quill pen. He dipped the feather in a nearby ink pot and resumed writing, oblivious to their presence.
The three mortals walked up behind him without Va
nder giving any indication that he knew they were there. James waited patiently until his friend was through writing a sentence, then he cleared his throat. The Orange paladin started and turned in surprise, then grinned.
“James!” he cried out in pleasure, then immediately his spirits dampened. “Does this mean you’re dead, as well, my friend?”
“Nothing so unfortunate,” James said with an easy smile. “We’re here to fight this war, and Uriel asked us to stop by and pick you up. We talked our way past those two Cherubim, who have now agreed to give us a ride to Uriel.”
“Were they still there?” Vander asked with evident surprise. “I told them to go away and leave me alone a long time ago.”
James stared at him. “Vander, you do know you’ve been held captive in here this whole time, don’t you?”
“Really? Whatever for?”
Nuse doubled over laughing and even Hoil smiled in amusement. James held out for a few seconds, then shook his head and laughed softly.
“It’s good to have you back, Vander.”
Chapter 37
There are records of accounts from the angels indicating that millennia ago, dakkans could change into more than one alternate shape. As there is no reason to doubt the immortals’ word, we must accept this as truth, but equally true is the fact that no modern dakkan, bonded or wild, can transform into more than one alternate beast’s shape.
- “Care and Handling of Dakkans” (203 AM)
- 1 -
“What do you mean Abdiel?” Gerard demanded.
Everyone stared in shock at Birch, who stared with equal amazement at the gray dakkan in his arms.
“This is the exact spot where Abdiel died,” Birch replied, stunned. “He was the only demon to openly defy the will of Mephistopheles and argue for peace instead of war with the angels. Kaelus felt the same way, but Abdiel was the more vocal of the two, and the other demons destroyed him for it.
“Uriel once told me that when a powerful immortal dies, or when a large group dies together, there’s something left over. He was talking about angels dying in Hell and vice-versa, but he said nothing of someone who was technically a demon dying here,” Birch said. “The shadow of Abdiel’s āyus still lingers here, and perhaps it became a part of Selti. This is where his mother died and where he was born, so…” he trailed off.
Marc snapped his fingers.
“Well, it would certainly explain his shapeshifting abilities, right?” the Orange paladin said. “I mean, you said it all started at the end of the Barrier War when Hell slid by. Maybe that little touch of home woke something in Selti, who is sort of the same thing as you and Danner just on a more limited basis.”
Birch motioned for him to continue.
“You said he’s always been able to transform into two shapes instead of the usual one,” Marc said, crossing his arms over his chest in thought, “so there’s been something strange about him from the get-go. We know immortals can bond with mortals on some level, and we know the dakkans are the product of demonic experimentation on dragons anyway.”
“We do?” Flasch murmured to Michael, who immediately shushed him.
“So it stands to reason,” Marc went on, oblivious to his friend’s aside, “that some sort of bonding is possible with beasts as well. Animals aren’t as intelligent as men, however, nor do they have real souls… at least, I don’t think they do. Scholars are still debating this point, which is sort of an interesting question, and I…”
“Marc,” Garnet barked.
“Oh, right, sorry,” Marc said unashamedly. “Anyway, it manifests differently. We also know that early generation dakkans could assume more than one shape, but that was lost over time. Selti could have inadvertently become a throwback to an early generation dakkan. Abdiel was already dead when it happened, so that might help explain the limited effect.”
“I think he’s making this up as he goes,” Flasch murmured to Michael.
“Actually he’s probably right,” Michael replied in a low voice. “I know you paid attention during our classes, but now I’m wondering just how much.”
Birch nodded at Marc, oblivious to the other paladins’ exchange. “I have the ghost of a memory of this. The demons possessed dragons,[36] much as they would with men, and were able to pass on the shapeshifting ability without sharing their actual āyus as Danner and I have.”
Marc pulled out a charcoal stick and a small booklet and began writing furiously in it, recording the information Birch had just imparted. Without the Orange paladin to fill the silence, the rest of them looked at Birch, who was staring at the ground as though trying to find some other remnant of the slain demon.
Danner cleared his throat.
“Uncle, you said from your experience with Kaelus that Abdiel was always something of a trickster and a rogue,” Danner said. Birch nodded, and Danner motioned toward Selti as if to say, Well, here you go.
Birch looked at his dakkan speculatively, then laughed. “No wonder I’ve always had such a close bond with this one. I had Kaelus inside me from the time I found Selti, and he had a piece of Abdiel. Two old friends reunited without even knowing it.”
“If this gets any more cloying, I’m going to kill all of you and vomit in your skulls,” Gerard growled. “So your little beastie is demon-touched, too. Unless he’s going to reveal the secrets of the universe to us, I suggest we keep moving. You can talk with your pet on the way, if you think it’ll help.”
Selti hissed at Gerard, who paid him no mind.
Birch nodded. “You’re right, of course, Gerard. There’s nothing to be gained by staying here.”
“Oh, crap.”
They all turned toward Brican, who had a worried look on his face.
“I think there’s a lot to be gained by us getting our asses moving,” the denarae said. “Gershvin just reported a group of demons headed our way. They may not have seen us yet, but they will any minute now if we don’t get moving.”
Gerard started barking orders and within two minutes they were ready to move out. Garnet stood next to his former mentor and peered toward where the demons would be coming.
“We can’t hide our presence, not when they’re this close,” Garnet told Gerard. “At the very least, we’ll leave a dust trail they can see and follow.”
“You’re telling a fish how to swim, Garnet,” Gerard said grimly. “Gershvin said there’s only a hundred or so of them, but we can’t afford to lose any of our already limited numbers. Plus, with that many we’d never be able to kill them all before one escaped to carry word of our presence.”
“They’ll carry word of our presence anyway,” Garnet pointed out. “Immortal kything.” Gerard grunted in affirmation as Garnet frowned in thought. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Mephistopheles has sensed our presence but can’t pinpoint us. There are probably bands of demons roving all over Hell to either locate us or disrupt and harry us.”
“So we keep moving,” the other Red replied. “Birch should be able to move us faster than they can keep up.”
“It’s a long shot.”
Gerard snorted. “Garnet, this whole infiltration plan is a long shot. Were you planning on living forever?”
“Well, sir, I had given it some thought,” Garnet said as seriously as possible, “but that was before I joined Shadow Company.”
Gerard laughed appreciatively, but privately thought Garnet had spent too much time around Flasch.
- 2 -
“They are coming, my lord.”
Mikal nodded grimly at the Cherub who delivered the message, then he turned to Garet.
“Iblis finally snapped,” the Seraph said. “Are we sure we can do this?”
“The river is right there, and it’s a sound logical basis,” the dead paladin replied. “We already know the effects the water has on the beasts. Wings and demons, that’s how my son and his fellows turned that flying behemoth away that day at the lake. They carved a hole in its back and poured all their Philion-filled canteens into the
thing and let the water eat it away from the inside.”
Mikal snorted at the thought. “A pity it wasn’t destroyed,” he said. After a moment’s reflection, he motioned for the Red paladin to continue.
“Dem’s done his work well,” Garet went on, “and the tests seemed to do just fine. That’s the most we can do right now, so start praying, I guess.”
Mikal smiled thinly at him.
“I have recently wondered about the mortal habit of praying,” he said. “Angels do not normally attempt to commune with God in such a way, and we would never think of asking God to fulfill our individual wishes. We acknowledge His lordship over us all and always strive to follow what we sense to be His will, but actual communication?” Mikal shook his head.
Garet shrugged. “I had always thought it was something passed on to us by the angels, but now that I think of it, you’re right. I haven’t yet seen an angel pray.” He frowned in thought. “Maybe it’s something leftover from the days before the Epiphany. Back then, mortals didn’t have an angelic presence to confirm the existence of the gods they believed in, so praying gave them some way to feel in touch with the divine. Of course, these are the same people who thought that dancing around bonfires and chanting were ways to call on the gods’ favor to change the weather, but…” he trailed off with a smile.
Mikal hesitated, then asked, “Do you feel it does any good? Does God listen to you, do you think?”
“I believe God does listen to every prayer we make,” Garet replied seriously, “and I believe that He chooses which ones He will answer. An individual person is too absorbed in his own life and desires to see the larger scheme of the world, and I think some people have a purpose in life that is simply to affect someone else’s life. There are some things we want that could potentially destroy the world if they were granted – and there are some things we want that make no difference to any other living thing. We’re too limited to tell the difference.”
Garet sighed. “Others will probably tell you something different, but from my experience, I guess when it comes down to it, prayer probably doesn’t actually do anything but make us feel better. It’s nice to know someone out there is listening and taking an interest, even though He may or may not act at all. If God really has some sort of plan in mind, will asking Him for anything truly make a difference? His plan can’t be contingent on whether one person or a thousand people think to ask Him for something.”
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 53
