“Now, let’s have a look at that wing,” said Raphael, resting his clipboard on the exam countertop.
Imorean flared his left, the bandage protesting as the muscles pulled against the wrapping. He jumped as Raphael rested his cold hands against the white feathers. Digits poked and prodded at the fine muscles. Imorean was relieved to find that there was no pain. His torn muscle seemed to have healed itself. The examination took mere minutes.
“Well, you should be good to go. I can’t find any problems,” said Raphael with a smile. “Just take it easy during your physical evaluation today, all right?”
“Got it.”
“Good. Good luck. I’ll see you when you’re ready.”
“Yeah, don’t count on it, Raphael.”
“You never know, Imorean. The smallest thing can trip the wire.”
Imorean bit back the feeling of dread as he descended the steps down to the gym. It was always so cold down here. He hadn’t been down here since the others had arrived. Since the night his family… He shook his head. He wondered how his classmates’ assessments had gone. He wondered where they had all congregated today. Typically, they could be found in the lobby, the game room or the library. There was the most to do in those rooms. Imorean smiled to himself. It was nice to feel a bond again. There weren’t many of them here, but Imorean had to admit, he liked the smaller group. Even if it did include Ryan.
“Ah, here he is,” said Gabriel, as Imorean pushed open the door to the gym. To see Gabriel again was a pleasant surprise. Imorean hadn’t expected to see him. All four Archangels must be at Felsenmeer now. Brown eyes looked around quickly. The gym looked a little different. Huge, metal hoops hung from the ceiling. A line of large traffic cones were set out in the center of the gym. A long, yellow tunnel hung from the roof and dangled close to the floor. A black, locked safe stood tucked away in one corner.
“Hello, Imorean,” said Michael, nodding at him.
“Hello,” said Imorean. He noticed as he spoke that his voice no longer had the hollow ring to it. He felt slightly brighter. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Pretty simple, little obstacle course,” said Gabriel. “We need to assess where you are in the air before we can assign a squad position to you.”
“Okay. What do I need to do?”
Michael folded his arms. “Follow the course.”
“Well, duh. What’s the course?”
The green winged Archangel bristled and all four of his emerald wings flared.
“Michael, enough of your venom!” snapped Gabriel, interrupting his older brother before he could speak. “Imorean, watch your mouth. He’s stressed today. The course itself is very simple. Fly the gym. Go through the hoops and tunnel near the ceiling first, weave through the cones at the floor, then return to us. Find your own speed and don’t rush yourself.”
“Anything else?” asked Imorean, looking between Michael and Gabriel.
Michael replied. “No. Go to.”
Imorean smiled, flaring his wings out. The blackened line of feathers on his right wing caught his eyes and he swallowed. Nausea rested in the pit of his stomach. Seeing that scar always forced him to think back on what Vortigern had done to him. What Vortigern had now done to his family. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling and took off.
In the air, Imorean left his troubles on the ground. Up here, even though he was confined to the gym, he was free. It was better up here. He raised his eyes. The first hoop was coming up. White wings drew closer to Imorean’s back and he slipped through easily. Only three hoops and the tunnel left up here. This was easy. Primary feathers sliced through the still air. One more beat and Imorean was at the second hoop. He drew up his wings again, one primary feather barely grazing the metal rim with a gentle hiss. He dropped very slightly as he flashed out the other side, but righted himself with half a wingbeat. Brown eyes quickly scanned the rest of the course. One hoop, the tunnel, final hoop and the cones. This was the test of their abilities? Imorean banked sharply at the back of the gym, swooping toward the third hoop. One more wingbeat. Through the third. Imorean grinned as he folded his wings tight against his back. The tunnel was approaching now. Ten feet to go. Wingbeat. The speed he had gained sent him flashing through the tunnel and out the other side. Immediately, he snapped his wings open. The feathers caught air and he ascended. It was hard work without any air currents, but Imorean liked the challenge. It was a better distraction. He barely noticed as he soared through the final hoop. Now it was just the cones. He pulled his left wing to his side, banking sharply around and turning downward. Imorean smirked. White wings snapped fully vertical. Left primaries nearly skimming the ground, Imorean maneuvered flawlessly through the cones. It was a perfect movement and he knew it. He felt himself losing what little altitude he had and twisted back horizontal after the final cone. He beat his wings one more time and landed in a jog. He skidded to a halt in front of Michael and Gabriel, panting. It had been too long since he had been in the air.
“Told you,” said Michael to Gabriel with a smirk.
“Did I miss something?” asked Imorean.
Gabriel shrugged. “Not especially. Now. Up against everyone else, you are easily the most capable in the air. You have the most control over your wings.”
“He is the best flier we have. We have already discussed this, Gabriel.”
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’ve already given out the other positions, would it?”
“We all knew the final choice would be him, Ryan or Baxter. Imorean is an Archangel. He is the natural choice.”
“For what?” asked Imorean, looking between the two brothers.
Michael flicked the paper in his hand. “Squad leader.”
“Squad leader?” asked Imorean.
“I think the responsibility would be good for you.”
“I don’t want it,” replied Imorean, shaking his head and backing away a few paces.
“I’m inclined to agree with Michael,” said Gabriel, clapping a hand on Imorean’s shoulder. “I think this would be good for you.”
“Do you?” hissed Imorean, feeling angrier than he thought he had been. His voice cracked in his next sentence. “So, I have an opportunity to screw over another group of people I call my family?”
Michael looked up sharply. The Archangel was unreadable.
“Imorean, we are not giving you a chance to screw this up. I am not assigning you the position of squad leader out of pity. I do not work from the standpoint of empathy, but from one of practicality. I am giving it to you because I believe you are the most eligible candidate. You are the most capable. You can step down, but I would loathe to see you do that. All it means is that I would have to assign the position to a lesser angel. An angel who, mind you, might spell the end to you and your friends’ lives.”
Imorean studied the Chief Archangel for a moment, considering his words. Not out of pity. He smiled shakily, glad that Michael wasn’t treating him specially just because of what had happened.
“… Okay. I’ll do it,” said Imorean. All of a sudden, his voice was strong again. Stronger than it had been in weeks.
“I knew you would,” said Michael, smirking slightly. The Archangel sobered a second later. “Here is the roster of your squad. It contains their first and last names and their position. We have already designated team leaders for you so that you cannot be accused of favoritism.”
“Okay,” nodded Imorean, taking the paper from Michael. His eyes flashed over the names on the roster. Colton had been designated a team leader. That came as a surprise. Ryan had also been positioned as a leader. Close work with Ryan. It wasn’t a prospect Imorean relished. He looked at Michael hesitantly. Surely the Archangel had a reason for doing so.
“What do I have to do as their squad leader?” asked Imorean.
“First of all…” said Michael, crossing the gym to the safe that Imorean had previously forgotten about. The Archangel let his sentence hang as he unlocked the
safe and swung open the thick door.
“… You need to learn to carry this,” said Michael, removing a long, slim, leather bound object from within. Small fragments of exposed metal glinted under the lights. Handle, pommel, sheath.
Imorean swallowed. An angel sword. Warily, he approached Michael. The Archangel offered the sword out to him and Imorean hesitantly took it. The sword was much lighter than he expected and its scabbard and handle wrapped in thick, supple, brown leather. This was one of the few things in the world that could kill both angels and demons. He considered it for a moment. The last time he had held a sword, he had been fighting one-on-one with Vortigern. The sword then had felt alien in his hand. This one though, felt as though it had been made for him. He closed his eyes for a moment and a sudden savagery blazed through his heart.
“Have a look at it,” said Michael.
There was a chilling ring from the sound of metal on metal as Imorean swung the weapon from its scabbard. He could have sworn he saw white flames lick up and down both razor sharp edges of the blade. He tilted it, catching the light on the flat of the blade. He saw his own distorted reflection in the polished metal. Fine, beautiful, intricate patterns were engraved in the metal close to the hilt. A deeper engraving, but still one that Imorean had to strain to see, stood out. It was his name, carved in calligraphic penmanship. A hand rested on his shoulder and the twins both looked at him in anticipation.
“Like it?” asked Gabriel.
“Yes,” nodded Imorean, running the sword back into its sheath. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is a good fit,” said Michael. “I only hope that you will not hesitate to use it.”
“Believe me, Michael. I won’t.”
“I did not think you would,” replied Michael, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile.
Imorean nodded at his mentor. There were two straps attached to the scabbard. Part of one was buckled near where the handle of the sword came to rest, while the other end of it was connected to the center of the scabbard. Both ends of the second strap were attached closer to the center of the scabbard.
“The one at the center of the scabbard goes around your waist,” said Michael. “The other one should cut diagonally across your chest. When the straps are adjusted and put on correctly, the sword should come to rest diagonally across your back.”
“Michael and I designed these specially so that they wouldn’t interfere with flight,” said Gabriel.
“Makes sense,” nodded Imorean, adjusting the strap across his chest so that it was snug. He then buckled the one around his waist. It felt a bit strange over his belt, but Imorean supposed he didn’t have much of a choice but to adjust to the feeling. He reached back for a moment and ran his fingers over the handle. The deadly weapon was easily within his reach.
“You look like one of us now,” said Gabriel, grinning.
“He always has been. Take a short break. The other students will be arriving again soon,” said Michael, closing the door of the safe. The Chief Archangel leaned on the safe and waited idly for the other students to start showing up. During the lull, Imorean turned to Gabriel. He hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to the younger Archangel since he had arrived with the other members of the elite squad. Gabriel had been forced to flit back and forth between Felsenmeer, Gracepointe and Upper Morvine during his recovery. Imorean was glad that Gabriel hadn’t had to teleport himself and instead had been able to use planes. Gabriel was the only other angel who had been directly affected by Vortigern’s attack. There was a strange judder in Imorean’s heart as he turned to the younger Archangel. He thought with a pang of his mother and Gabriel’s lighthearted flirting. What wouldn’t he give to hear them flirt again. Anything to hear his mother’s voice. Happy. Laughing. Alive.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I suppose I’m all right. Still a bit shaken about what happened,” said Gabriel. “Being ambushed in a public area is never a comforting thing.”
Imorean sighed. “I can imagine. Do you remember what happened?”
“Not distinctly,” said Gabriel, shaking his head. “I remember the explosion. It was Vortigern’s crowd that did it. I knew as soon as I heard it go off. I saw a wave of demons approaching the airport. They were looking for you. If Michael had not moved you when he did, they might have gotten their hands on you. If I were in a position to cast bets, I would wager that move saved your life. I remember thinking that all the students with me were going to be killed. I knew I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have a choice. I had to teleport all of us. Not impossible, but absolutely draining. I’m surprised I was still conscious when we arrived. I was lucky I was only transporting so few.”
“I’m glad you all got out all right,” said Imorean, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I just wish…”
“… Your mother,” said Gabriel. Imorean resisted the urge to flinch. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Amelia was a lovely woman, and your siblings were some of the most wonderful human children I’ve ever met.”
“I know,” said Imorean. Suddenly, the words were pouring. Words he had avoided saying. Words he had refused to say to Raphael. “She didn’t deserve it. None of them did. I—it should have been me. Gabriel, it should have been me. I was the one Vortigern wanted. I wish, almost more than anything, that she and I could have had a chance to sit down and talk properly. She got very cold after Michael decided to bring me and Roxy here. I can’t help but wonder if she… if she blamed me for what happened.”
Imorean gritted his teeth and looked hard at the floor. A jarring set of words cut across the forefront of his mind, so loud that they shut out even his own thoughts. The words were a silent command, given as loudly as though they had been spoken.
“Privacy. Now.”
“Come with me,” said Gabriel. “We still have a few minutes before the rest of your squad is scheduled to get here.”
“Why?” asked Imorean, falling into step with Gabriel as the young Archangel led the way toward the gym doors.
“Some… privacy. I’m going to tell you something and it might upset you, but I don’t want your squad’s first image of you as a leader to be of you crying.”
White hair fell into Imorean’s eyes as he tilted his head. ‘Privacy.’ It was the same word that had leaped across his mind.
“Thanks for your concern.”
Imorean followed Gabriel as the latter turned down a narrow hallway. He knew that all the surplus supplies of Felsenmeer were down this hallway. He tended to avoid this area. It was always colder down here, as though the central heating of Felsenmeer couldn’t quite penetrate down this far.
“Imorean,” said Gabriel, leaning on the wall. Imorean faced him. The Archangel’s face had dropped its usual smile and there was great sadness in his hazel eyes. “Your mother never blamed you. Not ever. That thought would never have even crossed her mind.”
“How do you know that?” asked Imorean.
“She was upset for some time, but not with you,” said Gabriel. The Archangel paused and took a deep breath, releasing it with a shudder. “She was angry with Michael for taking her son away from her and shoving you into what seemed like a terribly dangerous situation. And she was angry with me for helping. She was scared.”
“But I led demons straight to them. I’m the reason she and the rest of my family are dead. How could she not blame me for leading demons to them?”
“She didn’t blame you. Not for anything.”
“How do you know?” snapped Imorean. Angry tears were beginning to well up in his eyes. He wiped them away, beating down his grief.
“Because she told me, Imorean. She told me. She didn’t blame you for any of what was happening. She knew it was well beyond any of your control.”
“When did you become my mother’s confidant?” A sudden bitterness tore through him. What right did Gabriel have to gain this insight into his mother’s mind?
“We got close after you showed her your wings. Admittedly, we continued t
o get closer. When it was my night to watch over your house after you left. She invited me in and we started talking. She told me all of this.”
“And you aren’t twisting her words? You Archangels have done more than enough of that.”
“I would never lie about something your mother had said.”
“You really cared about her, didn’t you?” asked Imorean, furrowing his eyebrows for a moment.
“More than I dare to admit. We spent quite a lot of time together after the trip to Tennessee and particularly, after you left. I developed a soft spot for your mother. Too soft. It was the first time in my life that I have ever developed a bond with someone like her. It was the first time in many years that I have seen human family up close. It was… wonderful,” said Gabriel, meeting Imorean’s eyes. There was something in the Archangel’s gaze that caused Imorean’s heart to constrict hard in his chest. Affection. Deep affection. He realized with a jolt that Gabriel had lost someone too.
“I still can’t let myself forget that I’m the reason my family is dead,” said Imorean, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes.
“You are not,” said Gabriel, sounding incredibly like Michael. “Stop saying that, Imorean. If the blame belongs to anyone, it belongs to me. I pulled the guards back from every one of our strongholds around the tristate area to watch over your fellow students at the airport. I didn’t see that I was doing exactly what Vortigern wanted me to do. His main goal all along has been to try and draw you or Michael, preferably both of you out of hiding, capture you and kill Michael. Vortigern did what he did to try and get to you. And to me. I drew attention to your mother. My presence there must have been like a beacon to Vortigern. Two birds, one stone, I suppose. It was too much temptation for him to resist. There was no way you or anyone else could have stopped what he did to your family.”
“Michael could have,” sighed Imorean. Gabriel’s words had somehow made him feel slightly better. Knowing that his mother hadn’t been ill-disposed toward him was more than comforting.
“Oh, Imorean… even my brother is no match for a fleet of over five hundred demons and he knows it. Michael also knows that he lacks the power to transport two angels halfway around the world and still be able to stand after he had performed such a feat.”
Angels Defying (Angels Rising Book 3) Page 8