“Come again?” Riell asked, though she knew full well what the woman had said. She concentrated on the area around the two of them and created a small, imperceptible dome that would obscure them from sight for a short period of time. She delved into the woman’s own shadow.
The skia’s hazel eyes met her green ones. “I said you’re a hag. And a whore.”
Riell commanded the woman’s shadow to restrain her.
Tendrils of opaque black reached up and wound themselves around the woman’s legs, wrists and neck. She tried to cry out, but the tentacles stifled her scream. Riell smiled at the panic in her eyes: the woman’s inadvertent realization of Riell’s superiority to her. Riell loosened the grip on her throat.
“Why can’t they hear me?” she yelled.
“I erected a shield that blocks any physical or mental contact with this area we’re standing in,” Riell said. “No one can see or hear us.”
“There’s no way you’re this powerful. Your wings... there’s no color within them at all.”
Riell let out a sharp, sardonic laugh.
“The fact is, fledgling, my wings are so luminescent I had to train myself to control the light they emit.”
“You’re bluffing.”
Riell let her wings illuminate and sighed in relief. It was like discarding a heavy weight she had shouldered for hours upon hours.
The skia saw the uncountable brilliant colors of Riell’s radiance before she covered her aching eyes.
“Now you understand your place, but this lesson will be the last one you will receive in this life.”
Riell did not let the skia die quickly. She strangled her for a full minute before she broke her neck. The tendrils of the skia’s shadow vanished along with her heartbeat.
Riell tossed the body into the lake before she dropped her shield. She searched the crowd for any of the skia’s cohorts. She could feel traces of sloppy Inner usage and assumed they retreated.
Riell resumed her walk around The Circ. After she had made an example of their messenger she knew they would leave her alone for the time being.
Ignorant child, she thought. Hopefully that will show them what they’re up against if they want to try to take the angel for themselves.
Cold wind picked up and buffeted her. Her black hair flew in every direction.
Riell stayed near the edge of the boardwalk to avoid the crowd. The laughter of a group of young girls drew her eye, and she did a double take when she saw that one of them resembled her as a child.
She imagined twelve-year-old Shrazz next to her. He would have been a foot shorter than her, scrawny but wildly powerful. He wore baggy rags at that age to conceal his electric green scales and bony body. Riell knew she missed him. She always had.
“I guess I’m in Shrazz,” Riell said.
Chapter 6
Gerald glided into Nuevas Cruces’ heart of metal and glass: a towering center of skyscrapers connected by a network of glass covered bridges.
As he flew over the capitol district he saw a monument dedicated to the current mayor, Michael Saffron: a spire of orange glowing rock. Gerald believed, as many half-breeds did, that the stone actually powered the whole capitol district.
From his height, the city looked like the luminescent organ of a living machine. Streetlamps and halogen highway lights were veins for a mass of snaking headlights: its blood.
His wings stiffened, and he nearly fell from the sky. He needed to rest. After his fall, his damaged wings were nothing more than a feathery hang glider.
Gerald landed on a building and willed his Inner to hide himself and his angelic aura. His Inner chilled his body as it traveled from his forehead to his chest. It branched out from there into his limbs and wings. His body grew frigid, and he gradually disappeared. Any demon or half-breed that perceived him would assume he was an enchanter imbued with temporary flight.
Gerald felt confident that this would ward off any curious half-breeds or demons as long as he could stand the cold. Ever since the city had unknowingly elected a group of enchanters as their mayor and city council, half-breeds and fallen alike had developed paranoia for the Inner-infused humans.
Though Gerald would never admit it aloud, Nuevas Cruces was the only city he would care to live in regardless of danger.
Soon after Mayor Saffron won his seat, Las Cruces flourished with new industry and attracted humans and half-breeds from across the globe, resulting in exponential population growth.
In a decade it surpassed Los Angeles and contended with New York City for the most populated city in the United States.
The outside world watched Las Cruces’ revenue boom, streaming chiefly from its technological contributions: highly affordable yet vastly superior processors, chip-sets, and operating systems for home and business applications. Mayor Saffron’s corporation, Alas Negro, developed and manufactured all of it.
Their uncanny progress astounded competitors, who could never discern how to duplicate the technology. Saffron, his council and his industry’s enchanters were the only ones who were aware of their method: an intricate symbiotic fusion of enchantment and technology.
When Las Cruces became the capitol of New Mexico it was renamed Nuevas Cruces by want of Saffron and his council.
Gerald trusted only a small group of enchanters and never ventured outside their business circle. He remembered the jails of the mayor’s lackeys well enough and had no intention of returning.
Gerald cursed the two half-breeds that had imparted their Inner upon humans and made them the first enchanters. With the resources and knowledge given to them by the humans, the pair of them founded The Falling Curtain.
The Duo had always been two of the most respected and feared half-breeds despite their decision. Gerald had thought their intentions to protect and organize the growing half-breed population admirable, but to him their methods were disgraceful.
He looked around to orient himself. South of downtown, rundown apartments. It matched the image God had placed in his head.
I think that’s the building over there.
Gerald watched the angel’s entry point. A ball of light flashed into existence on the building’s roof. When the blinding light vanished, Gerald could see him.
The angel stumbled around, fell, and held his head as if recovering from a concussion. After a few minutes had passed, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings.
How is this one angel going to change these circumstances? Unless he’s... Gerald remembered the angel from his previous post in Heaven. The seraph, God’s personal caretaker. Yeah, this kid could be a pistol. I wonder what happened to his wings. And why is he wearing jeans and a t-shirt?
Gerald heard wings flap in the darkness, looked back where the seraph had stood and saw a cloaked skia there instead. She inspected the area and jumped to another building. He blinked to refocus and tried to follow her camouflage’s waver in the dark but could not. He considered the situation.
He’s down there in the alley obviously. He can probably take care of the half-angel himself. Yeah, I’ll just sit back and enjoy the show.
Chapter 7
Drean’s stomach lurched when he hit solid ground. Dizziness escalated into nausea, and it took a while for his body to adjust to the sudden stop in his inter-dimensional journey. He held his ivory hair back with one hand and wiped sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt.
He watched the cars on the streets below.
What are these colored moving beings that travel so quickly? Surely the humans must fear these creatures.
He gaped at Nuevas Cruces’ skyscrapers in the distance: the city’s silver fingers stretched into the air as if they longed to caress Heaven.
If made from Father’s celestinite these structures would rival The Sanctuary of Heaven.
Drean noticed some pedestrians on the sidewalks below.
Humans? They closely resemble my angel kin except their frames are much smaller. None of the ones I see are nearly as intimidating
as dominations or as dazzling as the principalities.
He stood at the edge of the building and tried to absorb everything he saw, smelled and heard: the neon lights of the casinos a few blocks away, the aroma of sewage mixed with dank moisture from the nearby lake and car exhaust. He heard a sob below him followed by a howl.
“Are you alright?” he called.
A voice spoke back from beneath him, but it was too far away for him to hear.
Drean dropped down from the building right in front the man, a middle-aged beggar enveloped in jackets. He cowered at the sight of Drean.
“It’s okay,” Drean said. “I’m here to help you.”
The man’s language was unfamiliar to Drean: he spoke in hurried frightened gibberish. It was clear he could not understand Drean any better, and the man proved inconsolable.
As Drean continued to comfort him, the man’s speech became comprehensible and somehow Drean was able to make sense of it.
“Suchi promised me more time! No money, none! And I’m out of spellys. Don’t even have any chanted-dip. No proper high for two weeks... just grass. Just plain un-spelled weed! Smokin’ out ain’t good enough anymore without chants!”
The beggar stopped rambling. Drean did not know what to say.
“Are you alright?”
“You aren’t here for drug money?”
“I’m, I’m here to help all of us.”
The beggar looked down and saw Drean’s bare feet.
“Get on your way, you crazy bum. Find your own place to sleep! I’ve had this spot for months.”
Drean did not know what to make of what the human was talking about, but it was clear he did not want him near, so Drean walked away.
“Well what do we have here? Are you an enchanter?” said a gruff voice in the darkness. A man stepped out of the shadows.
A brown overcoat covered his whole body. Its collar hiked up past his lips, and scraggly brown hair obscured the rest of his pale face.
“I’m just on my way through,” Drean said.
Another human shoved him to the ground and stood over him with a knife.
“We saw you fall from the roof, enchanter. You can’t fool us.”
“This is Councilor Suchi’s district,” the original man said. “Peddle your spellys elsewhere.”
“Nah he ain’t sellin’ drugs. He’s got to be sellin’ some high class body enchants to take a fall like that.”
“I... don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Brian. Show him we’re serious.”
“Alright, bro. He’ll be no trouble,” Brian said. He balled a fist and smiled at Drean.
Drean had not wanted to hurt the humans but his warrior reflexes drove him to do otherwise. The seraph dodged Brian’s punch and sent him airborne with a kick.
Brian clanged against a lowered fire escape ladder. He coughed and spat blood onto the asphalt. He made his way back to Drean, half stumbling, half running and slashed his face. His knife shattered against Drean’s cheek with a pop and a flash. Drean glared at Brian.
“What the Hell? That knife was supposed to cut through anything!” his brother yelled from behind him. “Suchi’s chants have never failed before!”
“I’ll take care of him,” Brian said. He pulled a small patch from his jacket and slapped it on his upper arm. The enchanted serum in the patch affected him immediately. His muscles bulged beneath his clothes. He ran at Drean. Brian threw a punch and Drean caught his fist. Brian felt his enchantment-induced strength vanish, leaving a blaze in his veins. He frothed at the mouth and seized.
Anger flushed Drean’s skin.
“Brian!” Brian’s brother ran to him and slapped another patch on his arm.
Brian’s muscles responded once more, and he regained control over his body.
“He broke the enchantment somehow. Run. He’s some kind of demon.”
Brian’s brother jumped over a fence behind him.
“I’m not a demon! Is that why you attacked me?” Drean asked.
Brian did not answer. He ran.
“Twice I have been feared tonight. Why?” Drean asked himself.
He sensed something, energy he had not felt before.
Drean looked above him. He saw a young woman with bright green eyes and long black hair watching him. The energy came from her. He jumped to the fire escape along the side of the building and continued to ascend until he was high enough to hoist himself onto the roof. When he reached the roof, the woman was gone.
He heard a flutter above him and looked up in time to see her. Moonlight shone through her outstretched wings and Drean could see every color in them. He felt the urge to fly to her, realized he couldn’t and watched her soar away.
There are other angels here? No, she was something else. She was beautiful.
He dropped into the alleyway and sat. His need to fly reminded him of Heaven, and he found himself in tears. He missed his duties and his Father. At least in Heaven he had a direction and was never alone. If he had his wings he could have flown to the woman in the air, met her and had a companion. He was wingless and alone.
Why did Father take my wings?
“Welcome to Nuevas Cruces, angel. Enchantment capital of the world,” Gerald said.
Drean wiped his tears and peered into the shadows. He could sense Gerald was different before he could see him. After seeing Gerald’s scarred face and black, windblown hair, Drean decided he was the ugliest human he had seen yet. He wore a weathered leather jacket, a black collared shirt and dark wash jeans.
“Enchantment capital? Wait, how do you know I am an angel?” Drean asked.
“Because I’m an angel as well.” Gerald’s dark wings looked like black sand gathering in the air as they became visible. He tried to stretch them and winced. “Just not as holy.”
“You can hide your wings?”
“Yes. They can become ethereal: invisible and separated from the physical plane. Aren’t yours?”
“No. God took them.”
“I wonder why?” Gerald asked.
“How are you here on Earth?” Drean demanded, changing the subject.
“At the end of the Heavenly War, many angels were able to escape through the gates of Heaven to Earth,” Gerald said. “They did so to escape damnation. We fell to Earth, arriving in different places and different times.”
“How many more of you are here?”
“I’m not sure. I had a few friends in the beginning, but they were either killed by others or themselves. I haven’t seen another fallen in this city for years. Doesn’t mean there aren’t some around. We usually stay under the radar.”
“So, are you here to assassinate me?” With adrenaline still pumping from the ambush, Drean was prepared to fight.
“No.” Gerald hid his wings; the feathers crumbled like dust as the enchantment took effect. “I’m here to aid you and teach you about the world.” He grinned. “I’m Gerald.”
“I am Drean. Why are you helping me and not Satan?”
“Let’s just say I regret what we did up in Heaven,” Gerald said, his eyes glanced over Drean’s clothing and came to rest on his bare feet. He grimaced. “I’ve been given a second chance by the “Mighty One” Himself to aid you on this endeavor of yours.”
“What endeavor is...”
“Did God give you these clothes before you left?” Gerald asked.
“Yes, why?”
“Omniscient my ass,” Gerald muttered. “If he knew we’re going out tonight he would have given you a classier outfit. I guess those jeans are pretty nice but that shirt...”
“Go out?”
“And no shoes? What was He thinking?” Gerald looked down at Drean’s feet again, frowned and looked back up at him.
We’ll need to go steal him some nicer clothes, Gerald thought. I won’t let any protégé of mine wander the streets without shoes.
“So your wings are gone? How is that possible?” he said. “Can I see your back?”
“I supp
ose,” Drean said and let Gerald lift his t-shirt.
“They really are gone. Nice tat!” Gerald said.
“What?”
“A circle of feathers is tattooed at the center of your back. I wonder why he did that. The detail is amazing.”
“I do not really understand what is wrong with what He gave me,” Drean said.
How could my Father trust this fallen in the least, when he obviously has no faith in his design? Drean thought, his face creased with worry as he envisioned the fallen angel assisting him with his mission.
“Hey,” Gerald said. “Don’t look so down. We’ll get those clothes off you as soon as we can.” Gerald gave him a sly wink. “And into something more appropriate.”
“But how does that relate to the mission?” Drean asked and tried to ignore the fact that Gerald wanted to undress him.
“Well that’s going to be the hardest thing,” he said. “Introducing you to Earth’s customs and inhabitants.” Gerald smiled. “We’ll have to make a few stops but eventually you’ll understand everything as I do. Which brings us to the second thing we have to do.”
“And what would that be?” he asked.
“Lucifer is the one diverting God’s power. We must enter Hell and assassinate him.”
“Wait,” Drean said. “God charged me to investigate these matters. How do you know that Lucifer is the cause of this?”
“What did God specifically ask you to do?”
“He told me to find what is impeding the Faithstream. I’m assuming I’m supposed to remove that impediment,” Drean said.
“Right. Well Satan, I mean Lucifer or whatever you want to call him, is the one behind this. What he is using to acquire the stream for himself is what I’m not sure about.”
“I see. I need to discover his methods. Why did you call him Satan?”
“He decided Lucifer didn’t fit him anymore. I guess he felt he deserved a change after falling from Heaven and taking over Hell. Anyway, eventually a confrontation with him will happen. It will probably be quicker to find him than find out how he’s doing it,” Gerald said.
“A sadistic traitor like him deserves no name,” Drean muttered. “Will the two of us be enough to overtake him?”
From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen) Page 4
