by A. J. Downey
Gabriel began a rapid descent, saying through gritted teeth, “You tried, Tabbris, and you did your best.” While at the same time trying to stave off Michael’s attack. All three landed on the edge of a half collapsed building in an awkward heap.
Michael grabbed Tab by the front of his armor and heaved him up, Tab’s feet dangling inches above the building’s rooftop.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Michael roared.
Tab swung at Michael, his fist connecting with the bigger Archangel’s cheekbone, Michael dropped him, and Tab fell to his hands and knees. Michael used the opportunity to kick Tab for all he was worth. Tabbris grunted and flew across the rooftop and over the edge, sailing passed Gabriel. Gabriel looked over and found Tab on his back, wings splayed on an outcropping of the floor below.
Gabriel turned back to Michael, who said, “He is your problem now, brother. I must try to find them.”
“Any idea where they could be?” Gabriel asked, hopeful.
“No, our battle spanned all across the Earth and its skies.” And with that, another rent opened in the air beside Michael, and he side-stepped through.
Gabriel jumped down and held out his hand. Tab took it and let the other Archangel haul him to his feet.
“This is bad, Tabbris,” he said, but Tabbris just made an inarticulate noise, a cry to express his anger and frustration, a sound that shook the foundation of the building, and caused it to crumble beneath them. Both took wing, and Gabriel solemnly said, “Our work here is nearly done, it’s too late.”
Tabbris stared at me and then looked down and away. He took wing, and I watched him fly, surveying the damage, and in some cases causing some of his own as he tore through buildings. I couldn’t tell if he searched for survivors among all the dead, or brought the buildings down as an outlet for his pain. Either way he wrought his own destruction on the two cities. It was just that his type of destruction could have been rebuilt if there had been anyone left to do it. Buildings can always be replaced. People can’t. Eventually Gabriel found him again, soot-stained and sobbing, the half burned and crushed body of a small boy clutched to his chest as he rocked it.
“When He chose to love them, I was one of the first to bow to His will. When he gave them free will I swore to keep them free to make their choice… Why, Gabriel? Why, when there were still those such as this boy that had yet to choose their path?” Tabbris looked up at the Archangel, his face whitewashed with hurt.
“He is who He is,” Gabriel started lamely. Then, struggling to find the right words, he tried a different tact. “He made us all, and He can take it away.” Tabbris looked as if he’d been slapped, and exasperated at not knowing what to say to comfort his friend, Gabriel cried, “I don’t know, Tabbris! I just don’t know…”
The vision started to slip away as Gabriel turned to survey the damages, his gaze sweeping dispassionately across the ruin of the two cities, the streets and rubble studded with devastation and burning corpses.
I came back to myself slowly, and when I did, Tab was still there, holding my hand. Strong light was coming through the cracks around the boarded windows of the cottage now, and I was stiff from being in the same position in front of the fire on the floor for so long. I still don’t know how long I was gone, trapped inside my own head. My face was slick with my tears as I stared wide-eyed at Tab, who stared back at me. After so many hours of horrific screaming and destruction, I cracked around the edges. It would take a monster with a heart of ice not to.
“So many people…” I choked between sobs, my voice hoarse from crying and disuse. It was all I could say, and I kept repeating it. How long was I gone? Tab’s brows drew together in a scowl as he searched my face.
“You guys saved the one family, but so many other people! Children, oh God, the children! Why, Tab? Oh God!” My shoulders hunched, and I sobbed hysterically.
“I don’t understand. Slow down, and try to tell me what you saw,” his voice was low, and I think he was trying to be soothing. I shook violently in my seat.
“I saw when the keys were lost. I saw, I saw…” I couldn’t get it together and make the words come out of my mouth. I looked at the Tab of now who watched me with wary concern, understanding coming to his eyes. I couldn’t stop it; I remembered the Tab of then and burst into a fresh set of sobs, crying for him and for the people that had been dead for thousands of years before I was even thought of. Their deaths were still raw in my mind along with Tab’s pain of that night. I would never think of him as unfeeling ever again. I couldn’t, not after I saw what Sodom and Gomorrah had cost him.
He hugged me awkwardly; unsure what to do to get me to stop bawling, and I told him, in a rush, what I could get out of what I’d seen. He went very still over me but was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of approaching feet and shouts outside. I was aware my necklace wasn’t glowing, and I couldn’t hear thunder, so whoever was outside was human. Still, we didn’t have a good explanation as to why we were there, and it wasn’t something either of us wanted to deal with.
Tab didn’t even try to get me to stand up on my own. He put his lips beside my ear and said in an urgent voice, “Put your arms around my neck, Adelaide. Can you do that?” As he let go of my hand, I nodded and did what I was told. He slid an arm beneath my knees, the other behind my back.
“I’m sorry to do this to you so soon,” he said and sounded like he meant it, but before I could reply, the world disappeared in a swirl of many-splendored colors. When we arrived at our destination, it was too dark for me to see. I clung to him, a wave of sheer exhaustion sucking at my edges. I didn’t even think about being sick, I was so tired all of a sudden. He stood still for what felt like a long time, holding me effortlessly.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Tired,” I responded, my voice lethargic, and it was a struggle to even get that one quiet word out. It was as if I was the worst drunk I’d ever been without the beneficial numbing effects of any alcohol, the horrors of Sodom and Gomorrah still playing out on the inside of my eyelids.
He set me down on something soft and pulled at my jacket. “Let me have it,” he said, and I shrugged out of it.
He lifted my bag over my head, and I heard both it and the jacket hit the floor in a heap. Half a second later, something even heavier hit, probably my backpack. He sat down by my feet, and I let myself fall back into more of the softness, my head finding a pillow. He worked the laces on my boots and slid them off my feet, dropping them to join my jacket and bags on the floor. He stood, and the only reason I knew he’d done it was that the mattress sprang back to life beneath my feet. He was noiseless otherwise.
“Sleep for now. We will continue on in a few hours.” He was being so damned nice, and I was so tired I just took it for granted, curling onto my side, tucking my hands under my cheek. A cover fell over my shoulders, warm and close, and without so much as a lingering thought, I was asleep.
Chapter Eight
Tabbris
I wasn’t certain exactly why Iaoel had shown Adelaide the time that she did, but I don’t think it had quite the desired effect. If she’d wanted to expose a time of weakness, perhaps dissuade Adelaide from wanting or trusting my ability to protect her just as she was getting used to it, which was my best guess, it seemed to have done the opposite. The way Adelaide had desperately clung to me… I supposed it was possible, even likely, that Adelaide would eventually return to being more suspicious. For now, Iaoel seemed to have both pushed Adelaide too hard, but also pushed her in my direction. Either that, or Adelaide was guiding the visions to some greater or lesser degree now, with Iaoel’s Grace within her more under Adelaide’s control.
Regardless what had happened, she’d seen the keys, and where they fell. A lot of time had passed since then. I didn’t even have a place to start, but that seemed likely to change soon.
Once I put her to bed in the small safe house in Switzerland, I let her rest until she woke, though I spent most of that time watching for
any sign that we’d been followed. Not only was I sure that many on all sides were actively searching now, but I also didn’t put it past Iaoel to try to leave some small sign for someone if Adelaide weren’t actively paying attention. This place provided warmth, but it wasn’t much protection. On the other hand, it was better than back at the hamburger place, in terms of not having anyone but us at risk if there was an attack.
She slept for more than a full day, occasionally shifting and groaning fitfully in her sleep. When she did awaken, it was with a scream. I moved quickly to her, with my blade in hand. Finding no threat worse than a nightmare… which in the case of the vessel for the Angel of Visions, was plenty threatening, I sheathed it again and sat with her. “Are you all right? What did you see?”
Instead of answering, she hugged herself tight to my side, sobbing with her head buried in my shoulder for some time. Eventually, whether as a result of the crying, or having more time to process her dreams, she bolted outside. Instead of being sick, she dry-heaved for several minutes, fighting for breath. I did my best to help support her, but couldn’t do more than that for her. The helplessness was disconcerting.
Her stomach and her crying finally settled enough to let her focus on breathing and calming herself. “Tab… Tabbris… she… showed me… I saw the keys again. I think we might be close. It was really disjointed,” she said, straining to achieve deep and more even breaths.
“You were asleep. You’re sure it was a vision and not a nightmare?”
“I’ve had plenty of nightmares, too. Right before I woke up, it was different. I was sort of starting to wake up, and I just couldn’t move, like I was trapped in my own head. I don’t even know if she was totally in control of it. But I saw the keys. It felt like they were close to here, or had been, or something. I saw the forest where they fell again. Eventually, I saw hands going through the dirt, digging them out. And then other hands. They were sort of the same, same marks, but withered now, and in a bedroom, maybe, instead of the dirt – passing the keys into a woman’s hands. Then those aged too. That was when I was just stuck there.”
“And then?” Clearly something had happened to cause the more severe reaction, though at least now I knew that the keys had fallen into human hands. In some ways, that was far worse, but it meant a different kind of investigation.
“Then there was another hand-over. Someone else taking hold of the keys. They were young this time, maybe a teenager. A girl this time, taking the keys from… maybe a grandparent, I guess. It was like the others. And then there was shouting, and pounding on a door. People started screaming. The girl started running, and suddenly I was seeing things through her eyes, instead of just watching the keys. So much shouting and screaming, and all I could think was that I needed to hide the keys away, not let them get them.”
“They? Couldn’t let who get them?”
“I don’t know.” Her breathing had quickened again. She started to continue the story, then almost lost her breath in hyperventilating. I held her, speaking quietly, trying to help her calm herself again.
When she finally managed to calm enough and caught her breath, she picked back up. “I don’t know who they were. It was so confusing. I saw people, saw my… saw the girl’s family being dragged out the door. Even my grandf… even her grandfather. Sorry.”
“It’s all right, Adelaide. Just relax.” I tucked a piece of her errant chestnut locks behind her ear.
She nodded gratefully, taking a few moments again. When she’d recovered, she continued speaking. “The girl tried to hide the keys, but they caught her first. She managed to, uhm, hide them on her person, but that was it. Then they grabbed me – grabbed her by the arm and just dragged her off.”
“Dragged her to where, Adelaide?”
“Their grip was so strong. All those people, all the shouting. And there was flames, and darkness. I didn’t get to see a lot that made sense. It was like, at that point, Iaoel was screaming in my head, too. I don’t think she was meaning to show all of that to me. Like she knew we were close and was searching, and maybe it overtook her, too. At any rate, she was just as freaked out as me and along for the same ride, Tab. It was bad, really, really bad.” She pushed off from me gently and I let her go. She huddled in on herself, sitting on the edge of the bed, the picture of misery.
“That’s possible.” I recalled some of Iaoel’s more difficult visions. Human suffering was usually a distant affair to her, but now and then, she got caught up in what she was seeing and what she was feeling.
“I think, maybe, they dragged them to Hell. I mean, the people maybe looked human, but they could have been Demons, right? They were so strong. And everyone was so scared. And what else would scare Iaoel that much?”
“The keys didn’t go to Hell,” I assured her. That much I was absolutely certain of. “Anywhere in Hell that someone hid them, they’d have been found and used by now.”
“Okay, so maybe not actual Hell. Or maybe she got a chance to hide it somewhere else. But it was… so real. I close my eyes, and it all comes back to me.”
The words were familiar. “I close my eyes, and it all comes back to me.” I remembered the times Iaoel told me just that. The last time was only a couple of days before her betrayal, while she was trying to parse through what she’d seen. I looked down at Adelaide, still pressed against my side. “She wasn’t giving you a vision. She was having a nightmare. She’d had that vision before.”
“So you knew about that, about the keys?”
“No, I didn’t. She didn’t tell me what she’d seen. She said she couldn’t. But it affected her, just like it did you. I recognize the signs.”
Adelaide looked crestfallen. “So, you’re saying she’s taking control of me after all?”
“No, I don’t think she’s going to, either. Your personality is too strong for that, but her visions will affect you, whatever form they take. Especially when you’re so tired.”
She thought about that for several minutes. “All right, that makes sense. I was pretty exhausted. I’m still getting used to all of this. Especially having a manipulative bitch in my head all the time. Anyway, I meant what I said before. Thank you for helping me. You really do care, right?” She didn’t sound entirely sure, but she also sounded willing to listen and believe.
“Of course, Addy.” It was true, and becoming more so. I’d repeated the scenario many times, protecting mortals and their free will, but rarely long enough to get to know one like this, to watch someone take on so many challenges. And I’d even remembered to keep her name preferences in mind, even if I didn’t share them. Adelaide was a beautiful name.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop with the questions. I know we can’t have feelings, or… any of that. And I get it now. It’s about her, and how you felt about her, and how she’d twist that, right?”
“That’s part of it, yes.” I did my best to keep my tone even.
“And the other part?”
“The other part is that this is my life, Addy. It’s never going to stop, until Judgment Day. This is no life for you, or any mortal. I’m going to do what has to be done, and then free you, from her, from this. So you can make decisions about the rest of your life.”
She looked at me, tears in her eyes, then lurched forward in her seat and hugged me. “Thank you, Tabbris. So, that doing what has to be done thing. What do I need to do?”
“You’ve had a tough enough day already, and yesterday was worse. You should rest.”
She drew back from me, saying, “Fuck that. Going by the sun, I’ve slept around the fucking clock already.”
“And then a couple hours more, yes.”
“Then I’ve had enough sleep. And too many nightmares. What do I need to do?”
“Meditate and relax, then focus on the end of that waking dream. She may not want to show you, and she’ll be more aware now too. You need to try to see more. I have a suspicion now, but the scenario you talked about has been repeated too many times throughout history.”
She settled in on the floor and did her best to go through the meditation techniques she’d learned at the Temple. It took quite some time before she actually appeared anything remotely like relaxed. I guessed she was battling Iaoel, trying to force a further vision. Nothing seemed to come of it until she finally seemed more resigned to the meditation, no longer struggling, just trying to focus on elements of her dream – or Iaoel’s dream – again.
Her body started to shake, and she whimpered, biting back screams, and the words that came with them. I put my hand on her shoulder, and she stilled, aside from small shivers, but didn’t open her eyes. When the whimpers began again, despite my presence, I was tempted to shake her back to alertness but resisted the urge. She’d wanted to do this – and while I wouldn’t have stood in the way of her free will before, there was something more to it now. I respected her enough to trust she could handle it, and I could appreciate her strength in willingly facing this adversity. At one time, especially coming out of the temple, I hadn’t been sure, and every time I looked at Adelaide, even as different as she was, it could be a struggle not to remember what Iaoel had done. Now, I saw her as vulnerable, tired, in need – but also possessed of a strength and beauty all her own. Iaoel had chosen her vessel too well for her own good.
After over an hour’s struggle to bring the vision on, the vision itself lasted two hours. She opened her eyes, and almost toppled over, leaning heavily into my shoulder and wing, clutching herself tightly to my side. She wept openly for some time, not even trying to talk until it subsided.
