Voices carried through the door; distant, yet profound. Holding my breath, I pressed my ear to the wood, but was unable to make out the conversation.
I reached for the handle.
***
The aroma of spices and roasted meat cured my stomach ache. Now I was starving.
I crept down the hall, padding across red carpet. When I reached a winding staircase, I leaned over the rail and surveyed the lower level. The first floor mimicked a chessboard.
The voices were getting louder. One of them belonged to Leid.
The event on Caia’s cliffs came crashing back, and the sound of her voice quickened my pulse. She’d broken my jaw, that bitch.
But then I realized that my jaw was fine. So was my head. It was like I’d never been injured at all.
I descended the stairs too quickly, still reeling from confusion. Miscalculating a step, my foot brushed the edge of the stair and I slipped, grabbing for the rail to steady myself. To my utter surprise a portion of the rail snapped off and I tumbled the rest of the way, broken piece of wood in-hand. Landing hard on my tailbone, I gritted my teeth and rode the pain. A tingle in my hand forced my eyes down, and I watched the wood erode in my fist. Coincidentally, the pain was diminishing.
I threw down the remaining piece of railing, scrambling to my feet.
The room with the chessboard floor was a giant foyer, connecting several hallways. I followed the voices, but it was a difficult task since they seemed to carry through every passage. Light bled from a skylight overhead, immersing the room in silver iridescence.
Twin statues of lions watched my journey across the room, guarding an iron door that was marked with a scale insignia, and I had to step over a babbling brook that ran across the middle of the floor. This was the weirdest place I’d ever seen.
The door across the brook was open; without a doubt the voices came from there. I entered slowly, cautiously, out of the light and into shadow.
Leid was sitting at a long wooden table, draped with fancy white cloth. Despite the table’s pretty décor she had her feet up, leaning back in her chair whilst sipping pale yellow liquid from an oblong glass.
Across from her sat a man, his elbows resting on the table. He looked roughly thirty-ish, clean-shaven, with dark hair and eyes. His skin was a deep olive, like he’d hailed from the Mediterranean, but it was clear he wasn’t human—at least not the version of human I was familiar with. He was far too perfect-looking, like he’d been conjured from a magazine cover.
Leid was dressed in a red summer dress, oddly paired with black military boots. Her male companion wore a black collar shirt and chocolate brown slacks. A green bottle rested beside him.
I’d entered to laughter, but now the room was dead silent. I stared at them and they at me, until the unease was practically crushing.
“Hi,” I mumbled. “I broke your staircase.”
“How are you feeling?” asked Leid. Her friend stared me down like I was a convicted felon.
“I don’t know. My stomach hurts.”
“That’s normal at first.” She kicked a chair out. “Have a seat.”
I did.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah,” I said, lifting a brow at her sudden acquisition of courtesy.
She nodded, leaving her seat. “I’ll be back in a second, Adrial.”
“Take your time,” the man said, shooting me a grin. He had a weird accent, genteel-sounding. Each word seemed to roll off his tongue.
Leid disappeared through a door at the back, grabbing a stack of dishes from the corner of the table on her way out.
Adrial stared at my burned, bloodstained business suit. “That’s an interesting choice of dress.”
“I fell out of a plane.”
“I know. She already told me.” He sized me up, battling a thought. “You’re not exactly special, are you?”
I bristled. “Uh, excuse me?”
“I’m just wondering why Leid chose you as her final guardian. It’s not every day that she brings home Nexus strays.”
My lip curled. “How about you shut your mouth before I break it?”
At my threat, Adrial smiled. “Careful, threats like that could get you hurt around here.” He picked up the bottle, holding it out. I eyed it. “Go on,” he said, “take it.”
“What is it?”
“Wine. Which you’re going to desperately need after Leid has filled you in.”
Before I could respond, Leid reappeared with a steaming bowl. She placed it in front of me, stabbing its contents with a fork. It was some kind of pasta smothered in meat sauce. The aroma was fucking heavenly.
I dug in, barely chewing. The two of them watched me scarf the entire thing in a matter of minutes. When I was done, Leid handed me a napkin.
I took it. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Would you like any—”
“Actually, I’d like to know what the fuck is going on, if you don’t mind,” I cut her off, pushing away the bowl.
Adrial scoffed. “He isn’t special, but he sure is entertaining. Is that why he’s here? Comic relief?”
“Adrial, leave us please.”
He frowned. “But I’m not finished my wine.”
“Take it with you.”
Adrial sighed, snatching the bottle as he left the table. “Yes,” he muttered on his way to the door, “because what you’re going to tell him is so secretive; I’ve never heard any of it before.”
When he was gone, Leid took a sip from her glass. As her head lowered, her hair fell over her eyes. She wiped it away.
“Where are we?” I demanded.
“Purgatory.”
…
“Wait, what? Am I dead?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re not dead.”
“I thought Purgatory was some lightless, empty place?”
“The mythos isn’t real, remember?”
“Ah.”
Leid hesitated, lowering her gaze. It seemed she was carefully analyzing what she was about to say. “We’re on The Atrium.”
“The what?”
“A world in the Eversae Major universe. The world that holds Heaven and Hell.”
“Oh.”
I glanced at the table, trying to absorb this. “What happened to my wounds?”
“Gone. Healed by your transformation.”
“Transformation,” I repeated, blanching. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with snapping scaffold like a twig, would it?”
“I did what you asked. You wanted to be with me, so here you are. It was the only way.”
I squinted at her. “What did you do?”
“I turned you into what I am. What we are.” She eyed the door that Adrial had exited through.
“And what exactly are we?”
She finished her wine, sliding from the table. “We’ll get back to that, I promise. Why don’t you go change into the clothes I’ve left on your dresser?”
“My dresser?”
“The room you woke up in is now yours. Do you remember how to get there?”
“Uh, well yes, but—”
“Good. Meet me back here once you’ve changed. I need to clean up the kitchen.”
And then she walked off. I gaped after her.
Clean up the kitchen? Really? Because several hours ago she was exploding planes and decapitating people.
***
Leid led me out past the garden, through black iron gates and into the city.
The bloodstained suit was gone, replaced by black slacks and a powder blue collar shirt that was choking the shit out of me. It was a size too small, but I’d been polite and hadn’t said anything. I wished I had now, since I was about to pass out from air loss.
“Where are we going?” I asked, unfastening the first two buttons of my collar.
“Sightseeing,” she murmured.
Breath left my mouth as steam. It was cold, but there was no wind, no sun; just a bleak, cloudy sky. It was if time had frozen and w
e were trapped in a black and white photograph.
I folded my arms across my chest. “It’s cold.”
She glanced back, wearing a grin. “You find it cold here?”
“Yeah, don’t you?”
“A little.”
“What was that creature on the plane?”
We rounded a corner, traversing up a hill from the path.
“A demon.”
“Why was he killing people?”
“To sway the balance.”
“…What balance?”
“Heaven and Hell have decided to settle their qualms by instating something called the Contest. It’s a nonviolent competition that uses experimental design and scientific analysis.”
…
“Uh, sure, okay.”
“They’ve placed forty different intelligent species on forty different worlds around the Multiverse.”
“What for?”
“The Contest exists around a single hypothesis, where intrinsic morality exceeds natural instinct. These various species and their worlds serve as a field for this study.”
“How exactly is that a contest?”
“Demons argue that natural instinct is the basis of all that which defines biotic species, intelligent ones included. The angels disagree.”
“…So they just decided to stop warring and embark on a field study together?”
“Yes, sort of.”
“What’s the point?”
Leid smiled, as if what I’d said had been funny. “The point is that not everything is as it seems, Alezair. I tend not to ask the complex questions; I only serve the terms of my contract.”
I said nothing, trying to make sense of that.
“Though, I imagine that method of research could benefit their own society. Understanding the inner-workings and psychology of a species is a useful tool for cultural progression. Watching societies rise and fall based on their choices seems like an effective way to assess one’s own, right?”
I frowned. “You talk like a textbook.”
She frowned back, picking up the pace. I followed her.
“The demons have been cheating as of late,” she continued. “They’ve developed some kind of technology that enables them to make direct contact with their creations, melding with their psi-essence and obstructing their rational thought processes.”
“Their what?”
“Their souls.”
“I thought the afterlife was a fabrication?”
“It is. Souls are actually packets of data stored within each and every cell of their creations. It’s in their DNA. The celestials made this part of their intelligent design. When an individual dies, the data is transmitted back here, and we’re able to recover the information pertaining to their death, along with a record of how they’d lived their lives prior to death.”
“Why?”
“We’re able to see their actions; whether or not it reflects the Archaeans’ viewpoint.”
“Archaeans?”
“The angels’ official species classification.”
“Oh.”
Honestly, none of this was making a bit of sense to me. I just smiled and nodded.
Leid stopped and peered ahead. “We’re here.”
I followed her stare.
We stood in front of a huge building of white marble and pillars. It was shaped in a dome, the exterior adorning more winged creatures. Large stairs led up to glass double doors. Across the entrance, a stone tablet read:
DIVINAS VILLA: VERUM, SAPIENTIA, RATIO
The Celestial Court: Truth, Wisdom, Judgment
“What is this?” I asked.
“This is where we work,” she replied quietly, her voice almost too soft for me to hear. “This is where the Contest is kept in check.”
We both fell silent, staring at the building. Eventually I glanced down at her. “You haven’t told me what we are yet.”
“Vel’Haru.”
Totally anticlimactic.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, sensing my disappointment. I’d been expecting some great reveal, not a name that I could barely pronounce.
Leid turned around and trudged back up the path. I watched, blinking twice. “Was that it?”
“I wanted you to see this place,” she called. “Remember where it is, because I expect you to be there tomorrow morning at seven sharp for training.”
“Training?”
She paused, tapping a finger against her chin. “What’s your last name?”
“Czynri.”
“Zin-ree? Peculiar. Well in any case, you’ve just been inducted as the newest member of the Jury. Welcome to the Celestial Court, Justice Alezair Czynri.”
I froze, watching her walk away.
“Wait, so I’m a judge?” I called.
“Of sorts, yes.”
“And what are you?”
“My name is Leid Koseling, Justice Commander. A la your boss.”
My mouth practically hit the floor. “I didn’t sign up for that.”
She lingered at the bend, smirking over her shoulder. “You should get acquainted with Cerasaraelia.”
I didn’t even bother asking what that was.
“Our home,” said Leid, catching my confusion regardless of question. “I’ll come by your room later to drop some things off.”
And then she was gone.
I stood in the middle of the street, staring after her. Leid had just given me an entirely new life; brought me here, to her home—in Purgatory—and tossed me into a monumental holy conflict. What the hell had happened? How did I even get here? How had everything come down to this?
In any case, Adrial was right. Wine sounded amazing right now.
***
Cerasaraelia was like a labyrinth in which death-row prisoners were dumped for entertainment. After spending an hour trying to find my room, I wandered into a giant library instead. But a library was always better than a Minotaur.
A seemingly infinite collection of books were stacked on shelves that nearly touched the ceiling. One of the walls was dedicated to a Latin map of the human world, another to a collection of paintings. Yet the most astonishing thing in here was the metal podium at the very back of the room. A sphere the size of my fist floated above it, covered in blue sparks.
I approached the podium, wearing an expression relatively identical to what I was thinking:
What the fuck?
I reached for it, but a voice made me freeze:
“Don’t touch that.”
A girl emerged from one of the aisles, a book tucked beneath her arm. She was Asian descent—human, wearing a blue kimono and a stern frown. She looked young; younger than anyone else I’d seen here, but not young enough to be deemed a child. Teenager, maybe.
I didn’t know which was weirder: the electric sphere podium, or the geisha telling me not to touch it. “What is that?”
“Nothing , but I just dusted the place, so hands off.”
The girl sat behind a desk and opened her book. “You’re Alezair.”
“I am. Who are you?”
“Zhevraine. I brought you your clothes.”
“Thanks. Are you a judge, too?”
Zhevraine nodded. “We’re all judges.”
“How many of us are there?”
“Have you met Adrial?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that’s all. Has Leid already given you an assignment?”
“No. Well, I don’t know. She told me to look around, if that counts.”
“And how are you finding it?” she asked, bringing a steaming cup of tea to her lips. The sight was almost appalling.
Was she really just sitting there reading a book and drinking tea? Was everything really so mundane at its core? Is that what judges did after demon slaying and brutal airplane massacres? Drink wine and indulge in literature? Maybe spend an afternoon with some light cleaning?
The mediators that oversaw the eternal contest between Heaven and Hell were just as ord
inary as everyone else, to an extent, and I could only surmise that angels and demons were the same.
“Weird,” I said. “Wasn’t quite expecting any of this.”
“No one does,” said Zhevraine. “It’ll get easier. I’d say hang in there, but you’re kind of stuck with us forever now anyway, so what’s the point?”
Forever, as in forever forever or just until I died? Did we even die?
I left the library in a haze, murmuring goodbye. By some act of a miracle I found the staircase, but was too preoccupied with the idea of spending the rest of eternity with three sociopaths to even care. I guess I couldn’t judge—pun intended—as just a day ago I was a sword for hire in service to the Nexus. Not exactly a shining example of amicability.
Leid stood at my bedroom door, holding a black bag. When she saw me she held it out. “Here are some more clothes and a few toiletries. If you give me a list of other things you need, I can get them tomorrow.”
I took the bag. “From where?”
She shrugged. “Places.”
I nodded at the bag. “I hope those clothes are larger than the shirt I’m wearing.”
Leid looked embarrassed. “I had to guess your size, since you were unconscious. Try them on and let me know which ones don’t fit. I’ll replace them when I can.”
She was about to leave, but I grabbed her arm. She froze.
“Thanks,” I said. “For everything, I mean.”
There was a change in her expression. Conflict. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, pulling away. “Do you need anything else before I head in?”
“Yeah, actually. Could you point me to the shower?” I’d been picking blood out of my fingernails for hours.
“Of course.” She nodded at the end of the hall. “This way.”
Leid led me to a room made completely of white tile. A steaming pool lay at its center. I cast an uneasy glance at the hall, trying to allude to the absence of a door.
“Individual showers are around the corner,” she explained, having read my face. “But no one will be around here tonight, so you can take a bath if you want.”
I knelt beside the pool, dipping a finger into the water. A little under scalding. Leid headed for the exit, and I glanced over my shoulder. Here went nothing.
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 4
