by T. R. Hamby
Silas sat in the garden, brooding, as he had been doing for the last 500,000 years. Frost covered the ground, froze the plants.
He had never been on Earth before. It was much more beautiful than he had imagined--more beautiful than Home. But even Home was a beautiful Place compared to where he had been living.
A tooth wiggled in the back of his mouth, and he reached in and extracted it. He dropped it on the ground, and it vanished. Lovely.
He could hear Ceres’ voice inside, admonishing an Angel for some indiscretion. She was restless, agitated--they all were. Their bodies were deteriorating rapidly. They would all return to that Dark Place, soon, if Michael’s son wasn’t killed.
Murder. Silas gave a dry chuckle. It wasn’t the first time Father had done such a thing.
He heard stomping feet entering the garden, and looked up. It was Ceres, and she looked in a horrible temper.
She sat down beside him. “These--things--are going to send us back where we came from,” she hissed, seizing a blackberry bush and beginning to shred it.
Silas was quiet. He had known right away that silence was something Ceres favored in another person. She favored him anyway, of course--she found him fascinating.
First Angel to die, first Angel to try to kill. Everyone knew his story.
If only he had been as mighty in life.
“What’s the plan?” he asked.
She thought for a minute, glowering at the innocent bush. “It’ll be easy, but I want a layout of the site first. We’ll set up camp, say, two miles away. I’ll send the living Angels to scout the area, get a look at the house.”
Father had recently sent them reinforcements--five living Angels from the Immortal World. Silas had wondered, the day they had arrived, what exactly Father had promised them in exchange for Gabriel’s life. Whatever it was, he had an idea Father would betray them. He couldn’t have them running around back Home, telling everyone what he had asked them to do. It was bad enough that he had ordered Michael to kill the First Woman.
And as for them….Ceres, Valor, Raziel, and himself….he knew without a doubt that they would be betrayed. They were Father’s puppets. Once their task was completed, Father would send them back to that Place.
“Horus hasn’t come back from Nova Scotia,” Ceres said, repeating herself from earlier. “Which either means she’s an idiot, or they killed her.”
Silas knew she was dead. He had seen it before they had each departed to search for Gabriel.
He hadn’t said a thing.
Ceres looked at him. “Tell me,” she said, “do you fear going back?”
He could tell she was trying to sound casual, but her voice still shook.
He allowed a pause, before replying, “Yes.”
A lie.
Ceres nodded. “No words of wisdom from the most ancient of us?”
Silas’ lips twitched. “What do you want to hear? A speech?”
Ceres shrugged.
“It might be a good idea to have one of--us do some scouting,” he said, referring to the four undead Angels. “We don’t know if we can trust the living.”
Ceres nodded, frowning. “And I’m assuming you want to volunteer?”
“No,” he lied. “I’d rather not.”
“Still,” Ceres said, studying him, “you’d be a good man for the job. You’re powerful.”
Silas didn’t reply. If she only knew how true those words were.
Ceres studied him again, for a long moment. There was a grisly wound in her neck that kept leaking a sticky black liquid. Her hair was falling out, and her eyes were clouding.
Silas wasn’t looking great either, but this didn’t seem to matter. Ceres drew close and kissed him.
He waited, and she pulled away.
“I can trust you?” she asked quietly.
Silas raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Father’s oldest prisoner. You must want life more than any of us.”
Silas was quiet for a moment.
“Yes,” he said, “I want life.”
“Good,” she said, “because we’re leaving now.”
Silas nodded, and she got up and returned to the house. He stayed in the garden for a moment longer, looking regretfully at the remains of the blackberry bush.
He wanted life. He wanted a healthy body, air in his lungs. He wanted the sun on his skin, wanted a family and friends. All the things he had lost….when Father had murdered him.
It was a terrible sacrifice. But he had resided in that Place for so many thousands of years now. He was used to death. And maybe, if things went his way, he wouldn’t have to go back there at all. There was something he ached for much more than life. Something almost impossible to achieve….something he would gladly die trying to do.
He wanted revenge.
Nora
Mel woke Nora up the next morning, slipping out of bed to, presumably, make some coffee. She tried going back to sleep for another half an hour before giving up and climbing out of bed. She picked up her knife from the nightstand and stowed it in her pocket.
Mel was pacing, sipping from a mug, and glancing out the window every few paces.
Nora checked the clock on the mantle. Quarter to eight. It was Barry’s turn to watch the estate; he was probably flying overhead now.
Mel caught sight of her and paused. “I woke you, didn’t I?” he asked guiltily.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s okay. I can’t sleep anyway.”
“Neither can I.”
She went to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup. “Roone or Michael?”
Mel chuckled dryly. “Neither. I’m worrying about the Demons.”
“Yeah,” Nora murmured, and she shivered. “They should be noticing their friend’s absence soon.”
Her heart began to race, and she wondered too late if coffee was really a good idea. She didn’t need chest pains on top of everything else.
She looked at Mel. “Do we have armor?”
Mel glowered and shook his head. “All I kept here are weapons. And we can’t leave, and Michael can’t go Up There to get any.”
Nora swore under her breath. “And we don’t know how many of them there are.”
There was a silence as both of them sipped their coffee broodingly.
Then the door to Roone’s room opened, and out came Roone and Andreas. They were both dressed, with Roone sporting a fresh bandage over his eye. He caught sight of Nora and immediately looked away, turning gray. Andreas looked worried, and ushered him to the living room.
Nora felt a pang. She was suddenly reminded of the night she escaped, the look on Roone’s face as Michael had Traveled her away from him. Her heart ached, and she dumped out her coffee in the sink.
“Coffee?” Mel offered, glancing at Roone. “Whiskey?”
“We’ll stick with coffee,” Andreas replied, smiling.
“Is he okay?” Mel whispered as Andreas poured the coffee.
Andreas glanced over his shoulder at Roone, who was sitting on the sofa. “The swelling’s better.”
He hesitated, then said, “He’s a little depressed.”
He glanced furtively at Nora, who flushed, feeling a surge of guilt. She knew she shouldn’t have spoken to Roone last night, but the words had been out of her mouth before she could stop herself. After all….she did care about Roone. Despite what had happened--what he had done--she knew he deserved happiness.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Andreas gave her a worried look. “Don’t be sorry, darling,” he said gently. “It’s not your fault.”
He stooped and kissed her cheek, and Nora smiled, warmed. Andreas always seemed to know how to make her smile.
Michael and Gilla came down next. Gilla, who had just finished her watch on the roof, was still dressed and wide awake. Nora suspected Mel had given her some of his coffee.
Gabriel joined them once breakfast was underway. He was in a bad mood, now no longer allowed to set foot outsi
de of the house. He had stayed up most of the night killing zombies on Barry’s laptop.
They sat down to eat--except for Roone, who was reading on the sofa. Nora felt another flash of guilt, and tried to avoid looking at him.
Gabriel suddenly looked up, his dark eyes glittering, and looked over at Andreas.
“Ask Them if she’ll Ascend me,” he said, so intensely that Andreas jumped, startled. “So it doesn’t matter if I die. I could just come back down.”
Everyone at the table hesitated. Andreas looked up and Called to Them, who seemed to answer right away, as he cocked his head slightly.
He looked disappointed. “She would try--if your death happened,” he said, and Michael flinched. “But she can’t….make promises. If you’re not under her shield when you’re killed, Father might get to you first, send you somewhere else.”
“But what if--I died….some other way?” Gabriel asked.
It took Nora a moment to realize he was talking about taking his own life. Her heart stopped, and everyone at the table began talking frantically.
“It’s just a question,” Gabriel hollered. “I’m not saying I’ll do it.”
“Okay, okay; I’ll tell him,” Andreas said quickly, as though appeasing Them.
He sighed and looked at Gabriel. “First--she’s pissed that you said that. Quite pissed. Second, regardless of how you die, if she Ascends you into her Realm, you can’t come back. Yes, I’m here,” he said when Gabriel began to speak, “but only temporarily. When my task is finished I’ll return.”
“Wait--what?” Roone exclaimed, looking around. “You’ll what?”
“Oh, Christ,” Mel muttered under his breath.
Andreas looked bewildered. “I told you that, Roone.”
“No, you didn’t,” Roone replied, getting to his feet.
He looked a mixture of furious and terrified.
“I swear I told you.”
“You didn’t,” Roone growled. “I would have remembered. Maybe you told the rest and forgot about me.”
His tone suggested he was gearing for a fight, and Andreas stood.
“Can we do this privately?” he murmured soothingly, but Roone wasn’t having it.
“Why? Everyone here knows my business anyway,” he cried. “I can’t even walk into a goddamn room without someone whispering. What am I supposed to do when you leave? You didn’t think of that?”
“For Christ’s sake, Roone; what did you want me to do? Ignore you?”
“No--I just--I want….”
But he trailed off, looking pained. Nora suddenly realized that he had been about to say, “I want Nora.”
Just then there was a shriek from outside--a piercing cry that could only come from an eagle. Andreas went to the back door and looked out the window.
“Fuck--it’s one of them--Barry’s on him--”
“Don’t fucking move,” Michael growled at Gabriel, who was rigid in his seat.
Everyone went to the door, withdrawing their Blades.
A Demon was cowering as Barry the eagle attacked him, flapping this way and that and scratching with his inch-long talons.
“Truce, truce,” the Demon said. “I’m not here for fighting.”
Barry seemed to hear, because he ceased his attack, and instead flew towards the group, landing on Nora’s shoulder. He spread his wings and shrieked, as if daring the Demon to come any closer.
The Demon studied him with an intrigued smile on his face.
He was a hideous mess. His face was intact, pale and blue-eyed, but the outer edges of his skin were clearly charred, blackened and leathery. He was missing teeth, and his hair was almost completely gone.
But there was something else, something that made Nora shift uncomfortably. There was a sort of….power about him. Something strong, something….alive.
It chilled her.
“Oh my fucking god,” Nora heard Mel breathe, “Silas.”
She frowned, but the Demon looked at him and smiled. “I’m surprised you remember what I look like. You were so focused on getting me off your brother.”
“He brought you back?” Michael cried, bewildered. “Where the fuck were you?”
“Oh, a very bad Place,” Silas replied darkly. “I was its first resident. And I’m not eager to return, so let’s get a move on.”
“Wait--you’re the Silas?” Roone said, amazed.
Silas heaved a sigh. “I am trying to help you.”
“We’re not inviting you inside,” Mel growled.
“You are if you want my information,” Silas shot back.
“Yeah, we’re going to fall for that,” Nora hissed, anger bubbling in her stomach.
She didn’t care if this was the famous Silas or not. He needed to die.
She flicked her Blade, but Mel put a hand on her arm.
“Why?” he asked.
“I want revenge,” Silas said simply. “You would too, if you were in my shoes. I can’t do much, but I want to make Father suffer. And you have to take the risk anyway--I’m your only chance.”
“Why is that?” Michael asked.
“Because there’s eleven of us--ten excluding me. And, minus your son, only six of you.”
“Seven,” Andreas said quietly. “I’m new.”
“Regardless,” Silas said, eyeing him, “you’re outnumbered. They have five healthy Angels, and five that are desperate to live again.”
Barry, on Nora’s shoulder, shook himself, as if to say, Don’t trust him.
Silas sighed impatiently. “The longer we stand around, the faster they’ll discover I’m missing. Let me in the house.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Then Mel sighed, and led the way.
Nora wasn’t convinced, and neither was Barry, who was scowling once he transformed back into a human. He withdrew his knife, and the two followed the group into the house.
“We’re scouting right now,” Silas said as everyone gravitated to the living room. “No attacking yet. No need to fly around right now.”
And he looked at Barry. “Interesting Talent.”
Barry just glowered, and Silas smiled. He sat in one of the recliners, which gave Nora great pain; he was going to get ash all over the fabric.
Everyone sat down, weapons drawn.
“Go on, then,” Mel said.
“From the beginning?”
Mel gave him a withering look, and Silas chuckled.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Back 500,000 years….the two of you didn’t know me well. Most people didn’t--I didn’t have many friends. I have a Talent, and they found me odd because of it. I can see glimpses of the future--little visions, flashes. Most of the Angels didn’t believe me when I told them what I saw.”
“I remember that’s what the others said,” Michael said. “They said you were strange, ever since you were a child.”
“Did they?” Silas replied, and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice.
He continued, “Well, I can see things. I always could. And back then, one day, I saw you.”
He was looking at Michael, who went pale. “Yes. Exactly. I saw what you would do. I saw what you would become--who you would betray,” and he looked at Mel.
They were quiet.
Silas said, “Father wouldn’t speak to me. I tried to Call, tried everything. I still don’t know if he was ignoring me, or was just too caught up in the two of you to notice me. But I was desperate not to….let these things happen. It was an innocent life, after all.”
“Skip to the part where you die,” Mel growled, as Michael turned gray.
Silas nodded. “My only option was to kill Michael. It was stupid to even try, but I was desperate. You, Mel, pulled me off of him, and I shoved you into the fire--which I regret. Then you stepped out of the fire, and I jumped in.”
“Why?” Nora couldn’t help but ask.
She was confused. It was an interesting story, but where was it leading?
Silas looked at her. “For a long time I
didn’t know. I just--decided. But then I realized--it was Father. He forced me to throw myself into the fire.”
“No free will,” Gabriel said, and Silas nodded.
He looked around at them. “Father is a murderer. That thought hasn’t left me in all these years….it’s kept me going….living in that horrible Place.”
He closed his eyes and shivered. “There’s nothing but fear there. Terrible fear. So many unhappy memories, mistakes, nightmares. That’s the kind of Place I’m returning to, if this doesn’t work.”
There was a disturbed silence.
“So I lived in that Place,” Silas plodded on, “and I eventually gained some cellmates. Helga arrived, and she told me about the Great War, about the Woman, and the Tree. And I thought on that for a long time….especially the Tree.”
“We’re ahead on that one,” Roone said. “The Tree sprang up because of Father’s misdeeds….”
“We had thought it was because he had been controlling all of you for so long,” Gilla said slowly, “but….now you’ve told us that he’s killed. Directly.”
Nora felt a jolt. She was right. God had always killed using a middleman--now they had proof that he had, once, killed on his own.
“It’s probably both,” Michael said. “The Tree didn’t come for millennia after Silas’ death.”
Silas nodded. “This was when I realized that Father could be punished for his sins. That he could be weakened. I waited for the next sign….more and more of the Angels you killed arrived….and finally….”
For a moment he was quiet. He was frowning, as if concentrating. He held out a hand, and Nora watched, shocked, as the burned skin healed before their eyes. His hair and teeth reappeared, and his posture suddenly changed, as if his spine was rearranging itself.
He took a deep breath, and stretched out his hand again. The coffee table began to shake, and then--Nora stared--levitate. Silas stood, and the table rose several feet off the ground. It hovered for a moment, while Silas watched, perfectly calm. Then it shakily descended, and settled itself back on the rug.
Nora shivered as the very air flexed.
He sat back down, and everyone stared. When no one said anything, Silas said, “It’s me. I’m the next Tree--one of them, at least.”
