by Kate Martin
They knew one another.
Carma stepped forward, still partially transformed, though her features smoothed somewhat, and with each step she appeared more human. “Gabriel. Uninvited, as usual. What are you doing here?”
The seraph lifted her chin, her armor like silver feathers and scales, her black hair cropped close to her head. “My job.”
“Not very well.” Olin’s low voice boomed from behind them. Then a cold heat burst through the room, and he was gone.
The one Carma called Gabriel bristled and called to her soldiers. “Restrain the rest of them.”
The next few moments happened in a blur. The seraph stormed the temple, wings stretched and feet skimming the floor. Picadilly clung to the shadows, and Dorothea’s fingers worked quick circles. Haven’s justice was swifter. Alec’s palms burned with power, but the soldiers who grabbed him had been blessed and the touch of their skin burned him in return. His hands were bound behind his back. The shackles scorched his wrists. He heard the hiss of hellfire and the pained cries of others mixed with the sounds of Lillianna’s victims.
Then the air stilled.
Attentions turned to the center of the temple, where Lillianna had placed her hand around Gabriel’s throat. The demon held the seraph at arm’s length, pressing her back, feet teetering at the edge of the black pit.
Gabriel had one hand locked around Lillianna’s wrist, but had otherwise gone completely still.
“Do you want to find out what lies beneath?” Lillianna said, her face no longer the delicate human lines she had worn before. Now, she looked more like the demon she was, teeth shaped into sharp fangs, her skin hardened to obsidian, the light that had once shone from her gone. “I shall snap your wings in two and send you below, listening to you scream all the way. Are you still Michael’s favorite pet? Will he come to save you?”
Gabriel couldn’t answer, she just choked on air. One seraph, a giant man with a stern expression, took a single step towards them.
“One more step,” Lillianna said, her gaze never leaving Gabriel, “from any of you, and I will do to your general as I have said.”
The Havenly soldiers went still, but Carma pushed through, tossing her long—once again silver—hair over her shoulder. “Careful, Lillianna. You will make more trouble for yourself than you desire.”
“You know nothing of my desires, Carma.”
“I know you do not wish the attention of Gabriel’s superiors. The First File is one thing. Garner yourself the Legions and you will have no chance of success.” She continued to move closer, ignoring the order to remain still as if didn’t pertain to her. “Besides, aren’t you wasting time? How long will these labrynths hold with your witch gone?”
That got Lillianna’s attention. She turned her head, eyes blazing blue as she considered Carma’s words. “You are correct.”
“I know I am.”
Lillianna looked back at Gabriel, her fingers flexing against the seraph’s throat. “I am wasting time with this trash.”
Carma remained eerily still. “Yes, you are.”
“I shall take your advice.”
Carma inclined her head slightly. “I am honored.”
“She’s all yours then.”
Lillianna released her grip on Gabriel after a tiny shove.
The seraph slipped and began her descent into the darkness below.
The other seraph erupted in unison, some towards their leader, others towards their intended captive. Lillianna charged across the stone floor, retrieved her knife, gouged it into the eye of a seraph who got too close, then plunged it into the chest of her ninth and final victim.
Blood, screams, shouts, and orders all became one.
All Alec could hear was the beat of that single heart.
Lillianna clutched the pulsing, bleeding organ to her chest, skittered backwards until she nearly fell against her pile of silver and glass boxes, then disappeared in a whirl of fire. At the center of the temple, a crowd of seraph parted and stepped back as Carma single-handedly hauled Gabriel back to her feet, setting her on the floor, though she never released her hold on the silver armor.
“Ask your men to leave, Gabriel,” Carma said. “We need to talk.”
Gabriel tugged at Carma’s hold but could not budge. “Absolutely not.”
“Still annoyingly stubborn, I see. It’s too crowded in here. Someone could slip.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Of course it is, but I just saved your life, didn’t I?”
The demon and seraph stared at one another; a battle of wills.
The grip of the seraph holding Alec tightened, and all the others tensed, swords drawn, fists clenched. Not a single one breathed.
“Temel.” When Gabriel broke the silence, her voice sounded loud enough to wake the dead. “Send the men outside, though remain on alert. A dozen shall remain here, of your choosing. You stay as well.”
It was done without argument. In a matter of moments, the temple cleared, and the air began to cool and flow with more ease. Picadilly, Dorothea, and Alec were still guarded by two seraph each, six more stood at even paces around the room, while the one called Temel kept a respectable distance from Carma and Gabriel.
Satisfied, Carma released the general and stepped back. “Thank you.”
“You are still under arrest.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” Gabriel said.
“Suit yourself to think so.”
Gabriel stalked about the room, pausing for a moment at each writhing body that continued to bleed over the stones. “Still cavorting with Lillianna, I see.”
Carma mirrored Gabriel’s circle of the temple, sparing a glance at the seraph who remained on guard. “Cavorting is such a complicated word. But, no. I am not. I came here to stop her. Which I would have done had you not interfered.”
Gabriel and Carma met face-to-face over the body of the final sacrifice. The stone face that stood over them both was eerily familiar. Carma’s visage, carved into a temple forever more. After two thousand years, Alec wondered how many secrets Carma still held.
“You allowed Lillianna to get away,” Gabriel said. “I am led to believe you covered her escape. She was your mentor, your confidant. You willingly followed her into this dark life. You cannot make me believe you intended to thwart her machinations.”
“You have mentors. Does that mean you want them to rule over all of Haven?”
“That is blasphemy.”
“All the same, it is a valid point. Hell works just fine, thank you, without Lillianna raising herself to god status.”
Gabriel scoffed.
“But what do you care?” Carma took another step forward, putting herself close enough to the seraph to kiss—or worse. “Gods and godlings are everywhere; The One does not seem to mind. What business is it of the First File?”
“I am not obligated to share anything with you. Not anymore. You gave up that right.”
“If I knew you well, and I do, I’d say something else brought you here.”
Gabriel placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. “We are done, Carma. Submit yourself now.”
“No, thank you.”
“I have your soulless and your witch.”
Carma laughed.
“You think I won’t harm them? They are no innocents. One is a former demon, a compatriot of ours from your days of light. The other,” she flicked her chin in Alec’s direction, “sold himself, forsaking what The One had planned for him. Your witch…well, you know as well as I do Haven’s view of the ones who scribe for Hell. They are all guilty enough to be brought in.”
With the last of Carma’s laughter, all that was demonic in her appearance washed away. Her long fingers on her slender hips were nothing more than soft human-like flesh. “Oh, Gabriel, so narrow-minded. But then, you always were. It is your greatest flaw. You lack imagination.”
The sound of steel being drawn changed the tone of the entire room. Gabriel lifted her sword un
til the tip pressed against Carma’s throat. “Don’t forget yourself, old friend. I shall not hesitate to harm you as well.”
Carma leaned in so the blessed blade pressed into her flesh, sending a trail of smoke into the air. “Try it. Try to harm me, and see what comes back your way. Do not forget who I am, old friend.”
“Temel, take them now.”
“A foolish choice, Gabriel. For once, just don’t be so you.”
Gabriel locked gazes with Carma, and gave her file the signal to act.
“Fine. I expected nothing less from you.” Carma lifted one hand, palm turned towards the seraph general. No one moved. Then Carma smiled, snapped her fingers, and disappeared in a flash of hellfire.
Gabriel screamed in frustration.
Alec staggered forward, pulling against the hands that held him tightly, the cuffs still burning his flesh. “Carma!” He shouted her name like a curse on the night. She had left them. He had known she was capable of most anything, but this? He hadn’t thought her so cold as to sacrifice the rest of them.
Then more curses jumped through the air as Picadilly vanished from the hold of her captors. Dorothea laughed, her youthful voice like bells on the air. Alec stared at her in disbelief.
She shook her head at him. “Foolish man. So little faith.”
He noticed her fingers working deftly despite her restraints a moment before she, too, popped out of existence.
Leaving him alone with the entire First File. Damn them all.
Gabriel stormed towards him, her face flushed and her knuckles strained around her sword’s hilt. “Where are they? Where have they gone?”
Alec let his shoulders sag, his energy gone. “The hell if I know.”
She stopped inches from his face. Alec was struck by how cool her presence felt—like the earth at dawn. He was far more used to the heat of demons. “Why would she leave you here?” Gabriel demanded.
“A question I am currently asking myself.”
“She must have a plan. She never does anything for no reason.” Pacing, she let her anger roll off her like a powerful magic. With that power roiling, she began muttering to herself.
Alec could make out little of it, but he heard two words: boy and myst. He went suddenly cold.
Then he heard her voice.
“Alec, come to me.”
The temple evaporated into the heat of Hell, then the cool air of a mortal night.
The myst parted. Bri struggled to breathe, clutching his chest. Horrible. Terrible. Even now, with the temple gone from his sight, he could still hear those poor people screaming in agony. He couldn’t forget it, not knowing that they lingered like that—not alive but not dead either. He sank back onto the manifested ground beneath him and closed his eyes, focusing on the coolness of the myst and the relief it brought.
He was drained. Nothing had helped. He hadn’t helped. All he had seen and done, and those nine people had still died. No reason in the world would excuse it. It had been years since he had cried, but the tears welled up and his throat tightened.
“Are you all right?”
Bri held his breath. The voice came from behind him. No one had ever spoken to him in the myst before. He had never seen another being; not one solid enough to speak with. The silver winged creatures he occasionally glimpsed were always far out of reach. In his silence, he heard steady breathing and light footsteps.
“Can you hear me?”
The voice sounded familiar now. Doing his best not to tremble visibly, Bri wiped the tears from his eyes and twisted to look behind him.
He thought for a moment he saw the mirror that had followed him into the myst so long ago, but upon blinking, he realized there was no golden frame or sleek glass pane. Only a reflection—short auburn hair, lithe body, and silver-brown eyes. Bri stared at what was obviously himself. Yet, the clothes were wrong; plain brown pants, where Bri wore black and a more tightly tailored shirt.
The other boy took a step closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Are—are you the one from the mirror?”
“Yes.” He stepped forward again. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
Bri got to his feet and stumbled backwards. “Why? Why have you been looking for me?”
Holding up his hands in a gesture of good faith, the other boy stilled. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“No. Not at all.”
“You don’t know who I am?”
“Should I?” Bri asked.
“Well, I know who you are.”
It was strange, looking at a face so similar to his own. “Then tell me. Tell me why you followed me. Why you attacked me.”
The other boy paused, confused. “Attacked you? I never attacked you.”
“Two years ago. You grabbed me through the mirror.”
A moment passed, then with a sheepish grin, the boy scratched his head and plopped down to sit. “Oh. Sorry about that. It was just the first time I had seen you, and I guess I got a little over excited. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Bri kept his distance. “Tell me who you are.”
“My given name is Kailas. Everyone just calls me Kai.” Head in his left hand, he propped his elbow on his knee. “You’re Brishen.”
“Bri.”
“Okay, then. Bri.”
Unfortunately, names didn’t clarify anything. “I still don’t understand.”
“We look a bit alike, don’t you think?”
“Yes. I thought you were my reflection.”
“Not quite, although you’re not far off.” Kai sat up and held out his arms. “If you look closer, you’ll see there are more than a few differences in our physical appearance.”
Bri took only enough steps closer to satisfy his curiosity. Kai’s arms had been cut and scarred, leaving lines and marks and bruises everywhere. The patterns were not accidental. “Labrynths.”
“Exactly right.”
“You have labrynths all over your arms,” Bri said.
“Other places, too.”
“But why?”
Kai shrugged. “I’m a witch.”
After his time with Dorothea, Bri knew what a witch would do to their own body and to the bodies of others. “Your choice?”
“For the most part.”
Bri nodded, accepting that answer for what it was. “How can you be here then? In the myst? I’ve never met anyone else who could come here.”
“Ah, and so we reach the most important point of our conversation. I am here, because you are here.” He held up his left arm, pointing to a glowing labrynth that covered the inside of his wrist. “This connects me to you, which was no easy task, I might add. You certainly are good at keeping yourself hidden. But, I digress. In short, I can be here, because you can be here. Being twins is good for more than just family portraits.”
Twins. Bri’s knees went numb and he sank to the ground. “We’re… twins? Brothers?”
Kai cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Yes. Why are you so surprised? You really didn’t know?”
Bri shook his head, still studying each detail of the boy before him. “I never imagined. How did you know?”
Kai doodled on the ground with one finger. “Our father used to tell me about you.”
“You knew our father?”
“He raised me, for a time. I suspect you knew our mother. Didn’t she ever tell you about me?” Kai moved from the subject of their father to their mother quickly, as if it didn’t matter.
Bri shook his head. “If she did, I was too young to remember. She died a long time ago.” Fleeting memories of her face came and went, but it had been too long since he had been able to remember her fully. “What about our father?”
“Also dead.” Kai said it like he had no interest in it. “But he was around long enough to pass along stories of you and our mother. He told me she was very beautiful and kind.”
“She was. What was our father like?”
“Stubborn. Smart.”
“How—” Bri paused, not sure he wanted to ask the question, then proceeded anyway. “How did he die?”
“Killed in the street by a passing vagrant. But let’s not talk about that.” He waved away the tragic details, then leaned forward on his hands, eager. “I’d rather talk about you, about us. I’ve waited so long to meet you, worked so hard to get us here.”
Staring at a face so much like his own was disconcerting. Bri struggled to remember he wasn’t gazing into a mirror or a vision. “But…why? I don’t understand. Why look for me? Why need to? Why didn’t we grow up together? Mother and I, we…we struggled. Wouldn’t things have been better if we were all together?”
Kai blinked a few times. “That’s a lot of questions. And I don’t know the answers to most of them. I wanted to find you because you’re all the family I have now. I’ve always felt like something was missing without you. Like you were the piece that would make me whole. We can help each other. We’re special, Bri. Can’t you see that? No one else can do what we can do. You can see the myst, and I can scribe labrynths and work magics that haven’t been seen in centuries. I’m very good. I think that’s why we were separated. People have been hunting you. I’ve seen it. Together we would have been too difficult to hide. But none of that matters anymore. We can take care of each other now.” He grabbed Bri’s hand, squeezing. “Tell me, tell me about the myst. What’s it like?”
Bri’s thoughts spun haphazardly. “It’s like this. You’re here. Can’t you feel it?”
“Not like you do. I only see you. Nothing else.”
“You mean you don’t see the colors? The blues and whites? The images?”
“Not at all. What does it feel like?”
Idly, Bri lifted a hand to stroke a tendril of myst as it floated by, only half seeing the image it carried. “It hurts. It hurts all the time.”
“And you live like that? In pain?”
“I don’t have much of a choice. But I am learning to control it. It’s better now than it was. I have help.” He released the tendril and shook off the vision, dispelling it completely with a deep breath. “What about you? What do the labrynths feel like?”