by T. R. Hamby
Theresa smiled and nodded.
They settled down together, still holding hands. Outside the fires crackled. The murmurs had died down. Lilith’s power relaxed inside her, and she felt, for the first time, safe and happy.
“Theresa,” she whispered, and Theresa stirred beside her.
“Mmm?”
“You’re my best friend. I love you more than anything.”
Theresa looked at her and smiled. “It is the same for me. ‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you.’”
Michael
It was not two weeks.
They were in the middle of training when the piercing cry of an eagle sounded overhead.
Everyone froze, and the air grew still. Michael was very aware of his heart, pounding, and then purring, picking up speed. He slowly looked up, and saw the great bird dive. It landed in the snow and spun, whirling and rushing into a human Barry.
He stood and pointed. “South. They’re here.”
Another still moment. Then time resumed, and Michael whirled around, looking for Gilla.
“Positions!” Diana cried, and the Valkyries began to dart this way and that.
Footsteps thundered, crunching in the snow, and still Michael looked around desperately for his wife.
“Michael!”
She was behind him. She ran to him, and Michael swept her into his arms, crushed his lips against hers and held her tight enough to hurt. She clung to him, and for another brief moment the world was still.
Then she wrenched herself away, tears in her eyes, and sprinted off towards the front line.
Michael looked around. He wasn’t ready for this. He saw Mel and Nora together, kissing, shaking. He couldn’t see his children anywhere, his sisters.
“Michael,” one of the archers said, beckoning him.
He brushed at his eyes and followed, readying his bow.
It was time.
They were rushing to the middle of the clearing. Barry flew overhead, circling them. In the middle Michael knew was Diana, leading the army. All the way at the rear of the formation was Lilith. They had to protect her….until the right moment….
There was a sudden shift, a strong power flexing in the air, and appearing right beside Michael was Andreas. He stumbled a little, shook himself, and looked around.
“Andreas,” Michael breathed, relieved. “You’re here.”
Andreas grinned. “Can’t miss all the fun. Where’s Roone?”
Michael jerked his head to the west.
Andreas looked nervous, and nodded. “I feel her coming.”
He looked at him. “Good luck, my friend.”
Michael nodded. “You too,” he managed to reply.
They readied themselves. Michael stood in the second row of the formation, right in the middle with the archers. Their bows were ready, the arrows sharp. In the front row were so many of the ones he loved: Gilla, Mel, Gabriel, Serene, Agatha, Judith. They were armed with swords and knives, dressed in black armor with blue paint smudged on their back and chest plates. They had to avoid friendly fire.
Michael sensed the enemy coming. The Presences were growing strong--very strong--too strong. Christ, how many were there?
“Michael,” Mel said quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the treeline.
Michael took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
A pause. Then, “I love you.”
Michael’s breath hitched.
He was afraid. Far more afraid than he had ever been before. Every single person he loved was about to risk their lives. All of them.
It had started with Michael and Mel. Michael suddenly remembered those days so vividly, the days when it was just the two of them exploring their Existence. Then he remembered the four of them together, those six months of peace before that fateful Christmas, when he had nearly died. And then here--sharing coffee with Mel on the roof. Mel holding him for the first time in millennia. His son. His daughter. Gilla.
He took a deep breath. They couldn’t go back now.
“I love you too,” he said.
The army arrived.
Mel
Mel recognized some of the Angels that emerged from the trees. It filled him with dread, knowing he would have to kill them.
The Angels halted, as if they were surprised to see Lilith’s army already at the ready.
It was a long moment in which the two sides looked at each other. Mel clutched his Blade and thought of Nora.
Then there was a roar, and the Angels advanced, sprinting full speed toward them.
“Down!” Michael shouted, and Mel and the others dropped.
Mel heard the whistle of arrows zooming through the air, and watched as the front line of Angels was hit. Some collapsed, others cried out and slowed. The line behind them pushed past. The gap was closing.
“Fire!” Michael called, and more arrows were released.
Mel jumped to his feet as more Angels tumbled to the ground. The third line approached, and swords clashed.
The ranks broke, and Mel was lost in the swinging of Blades and the stumbling of feet. In just a few moments the smell of blood was in the air. Mel cut down his opponents, some with ease and others with difficulty. The air was loud with clangs and screams and roars and the horrid sounds of choking death. Mel couldn’t find Michael, couldn’t find his sisters, his niece or nephew, his sister-in-law.
He slayed another Angel and looked around wildly. Blood was in his eyes, and he wiped at them.
That was strange. Angels lay strewn on the ground, clearly dead….but not vanishing. Why?
He heard a scream and looked: Serene.
She was lying on the ground. An Angel was straddling her, stabbing her repeatedly in the gut, as had happened to her father so long ago. The mesh of her armor was soaked with blood, and she fought back weakly.
Mel roared and withdrew a knife. He threw it expertly, and it lodged itself in the Angel’s head.
The Angel slumped over, and Mel went to them, pushing the body off his niece.
“Serene,” he cried, taking her face in his hands.
Her face was ghostly pale, and her eyes were open, staring. Her hands dropped to her sides.
Mel moaned and held her. Fuck. Serene. Fuck.
Tears were pouring down his face, but he didn’t have time to mourn. The battle was still raging, and if he didn’t move the body, Michael would find her.
He lifted her into his arms and brushed past the warring bodies. Into the treeline. He found a hollow area in the snow and laid her down. The sight of his niece lying dead was enough to make him gag, but he couldn’t waste time.
He returned to the battle and wielded his sword, roaring.
Andreas
He wasn’t ready. He knew he wasn’t ready. But he didn’t have a choice.
Andreas fought the Angels with difficulty. It wasn’t that he couldn’t kill them--that was all too easy. It was killing them without killing the others that was the hard part.
He flicked and waved his hands, shooting jets of fire and engulfing the Angels. He levitated fallen arrows and shot them into their bodies, flung swords from their hands. It was all he could manage.
Then he felt it. He felt her--Calypso.
He turned, following the source of the great shift in the air. Others around him paused, looking around fearfully.
She materialized several yards ahead of him. Her pale hair whipped around her face. She wore a beautiful cloak of shimmering white, a silk dress of gray. There was gold in her hair.
God dressed his daughter well.
She leered when she saw him. “Demigod,” she breathed in a raspy voice.
Andreas stared her down. “Calypso.”
She grinned, and unsheathed her sword. Then she thrust her hand into the air, and instantly the sky darkened, black clouds rolling in. The air crackled and sparked, and bolts of lightning flashed overhead. Andreas caught sight of Barry in eagle form, who dove to avoid a jet of lightning.
Calypso giggled.
Then she charged.
Nora
Mel, Mel, Mel. No, focus, she told herself as she and her unit armed themselves. She could hear the horrible sounds of war in the distance, and it made her sick.
Mel, please be okay.
“There!” one of the Valkyries called, and Nora looked.
Shit. A whole squadron of Angels was approaching--maybe fifty of them, easily outnumbering their twenty-three.
Nora withdrew her sword. “Good luck, guys,” she said, looking at them. “Hold position.”
She was on the porch with four others. Stretching out on the land to her right were five more. And behind the house stood thirteen.
“Trying to sneak up on the rear?” Nora called as the Angels approached, smirking. “Not many of you, are there?”
One of them sneered. “There’s plenty more. We were just sent first. Get rid of your unit.”
Nora whistled, and one of the Valkyries in the back took off, sprinting for the clearing to deliver the news to Diana.
The Angel looked incensed, and together the squadron advanced. Nora ran to the side of the porch, all the way until her legs were pressed against the rails. She looked out, watching as the Angels approached the five Valkyries.
“Now!” she cried, and one of the Valkyries on the porch hit the detonator.
The ground exploded, blasting the Angels into the air. The second floor of the house blew apart, and Nora and the Valkyries ducked as burning debris rained down. The Angels screamed, pelted by flaming wood and tile. The Valkyries to the side attacked the remaining Angels, stepping over the great holes left in the earth.
Nora jumped off the porch, ready with her sword, and fought.
Roone
He wasn’t very good at climbing trees, but here he was, standing carefully on a thick branch. He could hear the war in the distance, and his heart hummed in his chest.
Theresa. Please be okay, please be okay.
His hands shook. He held the detonator in his hand, small and flimsy for something that could cause so much damage.
There was the sound of feet crunching on snow, and he and the others hiding up in the trees tensed. Angels were picking their way through the trees, trying to surprise the right flank of Lilith’s army. They held their swords ready, tiptoeing through the trees. A lot of them. Maybe forty.
Roone looked at his leader, standing in the tree opposite. She had a hand held up. Not yet.
Roone was sure the Angels down below could hear his heart racing, or his breathing quicken. He held the detonator so tight his knuckles were white.
Theresa.
The Valkyrie gave a thumbs-up, and Roone pressed the button.
The ground below blasted apart, sending Angels flying. Roone was instantly spattered with blood and gore, and he brushed at his eyes. He dropped the detonator, withdrew his sword, and, with the rest of his unit, jumped down into the snow.
He didn’t use his sword yet. As his comrades fought the remaining Angels, Roone tortured the rest, causing them more pain than they had ever experienced in their Existence. Only once they were crumpled on the ground did he use his Blade.
Once all the Angels were dead Roone’s leader halted, as if listening.
“No more Angels coming our way,” she said, and Roone guessed her information was given by Lilith.
They had come up with a system--Barry would communicate information to Lilith through his mind, and she would pass it along to Diana. Diana would give a command, and Lilith, being able to speak with her Valkyries inside their heads, would repeat the orders.
“There’s some heading for the rear,” she said. “We’re going there.”
So they went.
They circled around. The sky was dark above, as if a storm was coming. Lightning danced across the clouds, and the wind was strong and whipping. Roone could see the rear of the army, standing in formation, waiting. He couldn’t find Lilith, but he could see Theresa, her hair done up in an intricate braid, blue painted on her face. He had no idea how she had had time to paint her face.
They joined them. Roone resisted talking to Theresa. Now was not the time.
He looked forward, and saw the house smoking in the distance.
Oh god. Nora.
Then the Angels were coming, maybe about twenty. They looked angry, and Roone couldn’t help but smile.
They charged, and Theresa and Roone’s units met them halfway. Swords clanged. Shrieks and cries pierced the air. Roone had to fight now; the crowd was too densely packed for him to use his Talent without potentially hitting a Valkyrie. He swung, punched, and grappled. He was cut on his brow, and blood poured down his face.
Theresa shrieked, and Roone looked around wildly.
She was about fifty feet away, and fighting so beautifully. Her braided hair whipped as she swung her sword. Her opponent swung, and she ducked, stood, and drove her Blade deep into the Angel’s gut.
“‘Look upon thy death,’” she hissed, and Roone grinned.
An Angel suddenly roared. Roone turned in time to see them barrelling towards him. He stumbled backward, and the Angel buried a knife into his chest.
Barry
The war raged beneath him on the cold ground. Up above, Barry had to be careful. He could feel the electricity in the air, and the wind was so powerful he was nearly blown out of the sky.
He yearned to check over everything, to find his friends. His family. And especially Gabriel.
But he resisted, and instead flew over the clearing and the neighboring forest, the creek, the house. The house was on fire, which meant that the north had been breached. He had already told Lilith, who in turn had informed Diana that the rear of the army was now vulnerable. He could see Roone’s unit providing backup for Theresa’s. Lilith was farther south, still at the rear of the army while being behind the small units defending it. She wasn’t armored, but she did have a sword. She held it limply at her side, looking around wildly at the chaos around her.
They’re dying; they’re all dying for me, she thought.
No, Lilith, Barry said, don’t freak. We need you to stay together.
He saw her nod vaguely.
He flew toward the enemy. The front lines were a mess. Calypso and Andreas were dueling with their Blades, apparently abandoning their great powers for the moment.
He flew farther. The rest of the army ended at the treeline, all soldiers engaged in combat. He flew over the east and west sides of the property, no Angels left there. But if he had to guess, there were nearly four hundred of God’s Legion left.
There’s the army to the rear and the army at the front lines, he told Lilith. None at the flanks. They still outnumber us by maybe a hundred.
Thank you, Barry.
After a moment he heard Diana shout, “Hold the front lines!”
Yes. Hold.
Gabriel
This was a fucking mess. Gabriel was glad Lilith’s army was painted blue, because he was about to kill anything within his sight that moved.
He was covered in blood. The smell was thick in the air, coppery on his tongue. He swung his sword harder than he had ever swung it before, roared at the enemy so that they trembled, and killed and killed and killed.
He didn’t allow any room for guilt or fear. They all knew what they were signing up for.
He cut down another Angel and looked around.
His breath caught. His father was fighting four Angels at once, and the crowd was growing. Gabriel sprinted toward him, just as Mel joined the fray. He grasped Michael’s hand, whirled him around, and the two fought back-to-back.
Gabriel stabbed one of the Angels and forced his way in, joining the two in fending off a growing number of Angels. He kicked, stomped, swung and plunged. But the crowd kept growing. Everyone was focused on killing Michael--Michael and Mel.
Gilla
Michael.
The three Angels were overwhelmed. There were maybe ten Angels fighting them now. Gilla was just a few yards away.
She slayed the Angel before her and stretched out her hand. One by one, as she concentrated, the neck of an Angel snapped. She managed to incapacitate three before another opponent was upon her.
She heard shouting. Mel’s voice. She looked--the crowd of Angels had been destroyed. Mel was standing with Michael and Gabriel, and was shouting at the Angels around him, in their native language.
“Join us!” he then said in English. “Forget Father; look what he’s done to us! Join us! Join Lilith!”
Her name was murmured by the Valkyries, louder and louder, until it was a great roar in the air. “Lilith! Lilith!”
Gilla joined them, using the voice Lilith had returned to her. The cries seemed to frighten the Angels, who slowed in their fighting, bewildered.
Gilla’s opponent slowed too, and then dropped her sword, shaking her head and backing away. Gilla lowered her Blade, looking into the frightened eyes of a small woman.
“It’s okay,” Gilla said soothingly. “Don’t be afraid.”
She could tell the Angel didn’t speak English.
There was a shrill laugh, one that made Gilla’s skin crawl. She and the Angel looked: Andreas and Calypso were dueling now, Blades thrown to the side. Calypso threw jets of fire into Andreas’ shield, causing him to stumble.
Oh, god. She was winning.
Roone
Roone wrenched the Blade from his chest, hissing. The knife had been lodged right beneath his collarbone, and, while painful, didn’t appear fatal.
He growled at the Angel, who swung his Blade. Roone parried and kicked the Angel in the gut, sending him to the ground. He swung his sword, decapitating him.
He heard a strange sound and looked up. It was a horn.
“Yes!” Theresa cried, punching the air. “Valkyries!”
