Scorn of Angels

by John Patrick Kennedy

  Persephone slashed out with claws, teeth, and spiked heels to force Arcana away. Arcana rolled gracefully to her feet and cut open the side of Persephone’s face with her sword. Persephone swore and narrowly dodged Arcana’s boot as the other Angel flew into the air and kicked at her head.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” screamed Persephone as she launched herself after Arcana. She lashed out with the whip, aiming to capture Arcana’s wing, but only tearing off a few feathers. Arcana came in again, and the two Angels spun upward in a deadly spiral, blades flashing back and forth as each sought to pierce the other’s armor. “We didn’t do anything!”

  “You betrayed God!” snapped Arcana. The point of her sword slipped forward and nearly pierced Persephone’s eye. Persephone slammed it out of the way and then had to quickly block as Arcana spun the blade and hacked at Persephone’s head.

  “That was eons ago!” Persephone said. “Give it a rest!” Persephone launched a compound attack, feinting with her blade, snapping her whip at Arcana’s face and, when Arcana blocked the whip with her sword, thrusting hard at Arcana’s belly. Arcana parried it and flew backward out of range.

  “You’re not going to take me, bitch,” said Persephone, grinning. “I’m the best fighter in the 666th.”

  “Really?” said Arcana. She drove in again, dodging the whip that snapped out for her eyes, spinning around Persephone’s thrust to her stomach, and hacking deep into Persephone’s shoulder as she flew above and past her. Persephone’s whip dropped from nerveless fingers to the ground.

  Fuck! Persephone flew up and away, willing her arm to heal quickly. Arcana came up fast beneath her, and once more they exchanged a dozen cuts and thrusts with their blades before breaking apart and circling wide. Persephone’s shoulder was healing, but spatters of silver ichor covered Arcana’s armor, and Persephone could still feel the weakness in her arm. I need to end this.

  Persephone drove forward to Arcana again, and once more Arcana’s blade met hers in a blur of Angelic steel. Persephone nearly scored on Arcana’s face, then her arm, then her stomach, but each time Arcana flicked the blade away at the last moment and forced Persephone back.

  Bitch is good, thought Persephone as she barely avoided a thrust that would have skewered her.

  “The ‘bitch’ trains with Michael,” came Arcana’s voice in Persephone’s head. Arcana’s blade flashed out low, then high, forcing Persephone to an awkward parry that twisted her in the air. Arcana’s sword spun and hacked through Persephone’s wing. Persephone cried out and began spiraling awkwardly down. Arcana pursued, slashing her another dozen times. Massive wounds opened in Persephone’s legs, belly and back. One of Persephone’s arms flew off in a spray of silver. Her other wing followed. The spiral became a plummet.

  Persephone hit the ground hard. A fraction of a second later Arcana’s boot heels, square and solid and Angelic steel, slammed into Persephone’s body, breaking her spine in half and driving her deep into the earth. Persephone struggled to move, but her arms and legs wouldn’t obey her commands. Arcana stepped out of the hole she’d made with Persephone’s body and raised her sword. “May God forgive you.”

  The black lash of Nyx’s whip slashed open Arcana’s face. Arcana staggered back in surprise.

  Nyx pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling with the effort. “Arcana,” she said. “We need to talk.”

  “No,” said Arcana, leveling her sword at Nyx. “You need to die.”

  Raphael opened his eyes and called to his brethren. He’s gone!

  A moment later, Michael, Azrael, and Gabriel were all flying at top speed from their places to God’s mountain. And there was no question of not flying. This was an emergency; even God would believe it to be so.

  Raphael stayed where he was in the glade on top of the mountain. Since their discovery of Tribunal’s behavior, the Archangels took turns sitting there, listening to all that was happening in Heaven. They could feel every soul, every Angel, and even every plant that grew in the gardens. Most important, though, they could feel Tribunal, and since they were only listening, and listening to everything, Tribunal would not notice them unless he was actively looking. And given that he was investing his energy in fooling all of Heaven and distracting God, there was a good chance he would not be actively looking for them.

  Godspeed, brothers, sent Raphael.

  If they could reach God, they could find out what Tribunal was doing, and hopefully put a stop to it.

  In Hell, Lucifer and his legions stood ready on the shore of the Lake of Fire. Every Angel he trusted from the 666th was armed and armored and ready to fly and crawl their way up to Earth. Lucifer himself hovered in the air, his big wings spread wide to catch the hot air currents from the Lake. Below him flew his closest captains, Moloch, Beelzebub, Azazel and Astaroth.

  And with them flew Ishtar.

  She had not expected Lucifer to let her take her rightful place—at least, she thought it was her rightful place—as one of his captains just yet. Not that she trusted Lucifer, or that Lucifer fully trusted her. But as soon as Nyx had been defeated, Ishtar had sworn her loyalty to Lucifer. She had meant it, too. She was tired of Earth, tired of trying to defeat God. And now that God’s Son wasn’t even on their side anymore, there was no hope of any sort of victory working with Nyx.

  Even before Epiphenia was born, Ishtar had suspected Nyx was weakening. And once the Angel was born Ishtar knew Nyx was fucked. Because she thinks like a… like a mother, Ishtar realized with disgust. Not a fierce warrior or the Queen of Hell, but a common mother. Now, it was just a matter of time before someone—Lucifer, Tribunal, or God—destroyed Nyx. Ishtar didn’t care.

  It had taken ten years of torture and abuse before Lucifer set her free. Seven years of Hellfire and broken bones and torn-off skin and gouged-out eyes before he began to trust her. Three more years of being his slave before he’d allowed her to walk free again. She’d opened her mind to his a dozen times and let him rummage around inside it as if it were his personal toy chest. He’d learned everything he could about Nyx and every other Angel that Ishtar knew.

  He’d celebrated her return to the fold by making her a Lieutenant for the 666th legion, in charge of a company of one hundred. Then he’d bent her over and fucked her in front of them all, just to remind her who was in charge.

  She’d had him regularly and often since then, and vice versa. And when he came to her and told her Nyx had escaped, it had been Ishtar’s idea to use herself as bait.

  It had been Lucifer’s idea to impale Ishtar on the pole. She hadn’t been too thrilled about that.

  And now as she watched, she wondered what it would take to replace him.

  Nyx isn’t here and will never be here again, so why shouldn’t I take over Hell? I’m the only one who wants it.

  As Lucifer spoke, his voice rolled through Hell, echoing through every crevice, cave, and building, and booming over the plains where the tortured lay in their millions. Those who had enough sense left to hear his words could only wonder at them.

  “The time is upon us!” Lucifer said. “We are ready to emerge from the darkness and take our true place in Paradise!”

  The Legions cheered. A hundred thousand Angels roared out their approval.

  “No longer will we have to listen to God’s edicts or cower here in Hell while his Angels feel the joy of Heaven! Soon, we will rise up, destroy the humans, and take their world for our own!”

  Lucifer had just opened his mouth to speak again when a brilliant, blinding white light, filled with heat and power, smashed down from above.

  Arcana had fought with Michael hundreds of times, from gentle sparring matches to all-out battles to see who was the best. A few times she had cut him; once she had knocked him off balance. She was, in truth, a better fighter than ninety-nine percent of the Angels.

  So was Nyx.

  They spiraled up and down, using gravity to their advantage and their opponent’s confusion. They fought through the jungles, taking a
dvantage of the narrowness of the space to keep the other from flying. They fought in the ocean to slow the other down in the hopes of scoring a hit.

  Nyx’s sword and whip flashed faster than human eyes could have seen. Arcana’s blade moved almost with a mind of its own and at a terrible speed. Each of them cut the other half a hundred times as they sought for the opening that would end the fight.

  And throughout it all, Nyx kept telling Arcana to stop and talk to her.

  Arcana, blinded by fear of the destruction of God’s Creation and angry beyond measure at being denied Heaven, didn’t listen.

  Lucifer smashed down from the sky into the Lake of Fire. The Hellfire that should have engulfed him burned away under the power of the beam of light that tore through Lucifer’s flesh, flaying away skin and muscle from his torso, but leaving his lungs and organs in place and his head untouched so that he could still scream.

  And Lucifer did scream, longer and louder than any of the damned had ever screamed in Hell.

  “You have failed me!” Tribunal’s voice roared through Hell, louder than Lucifer’s had ever been. “All you had to do was contain Nyx long enough for me to complete my tasks, and you failed me!”

  Lucifer tried to beg forgiveness, tried to explain that he was sending his legions to get her and end this mess, but could form no words through his pain. All he could do was scream and scream and scream.

  “You will not all go to Earth,” said Tribunal to the Legions of Hell. “Not yet. The time is not right. You will select fifty of your best fighters, and they will go to Earth. They will hunt down Nyx, and they will destroy her! Any that fail will be obliterated.”

  Tribunal turned his attention back to Lucifer. “You will not be among them.”

  Shackles grew out of the dry bed of the Lake of Fire, made of some substance harder than Hellstone or Angelic steel. They locked around Lucifer’s arms, legs, and wings and pulled him face down onto the bottom of the lake.

  “Do not fail me again.”

  The light vanished. The darkness of Hell had never seemed so black before. The Lake of Fire, no longer driven back, filled in, covering Lucifer’s broken, screaming form.

  Well, thought Ishtar as she and the other officers stared at one another. I guess Lucifer’s not in charge now. Before any of the others could think to speak, Ishtar said, “So, who are our best killers?”

  High in the air, Nyx and Arcana battled back and forth. Blades, whip, wings, feet, hands, and teeth all came into the fight, but neither of the Angels could win a decisive advantage over the other.

  I don’t have time for this! Nyx increased the pace of her attacks, hoping to break through Arcana’s guard.

  The last time the two of them had fought was when they were both soldiers in God’s army. They’d been evenly matched then, and both had been practicing in the eons since.

  I can’t spend a hundred years fighting her! I have to stop Tribunal!

  Far below, on the beach of the small island in the Pacific, the patch of green that was Epiphenia’s essence began to stir.

  Gabriel was the fastest of them, and he was nearly at God’s mountain when he heard Raphael’s frantic call, He’s back! Get away!

  Gabriel hesitated an instant, wanting to continue on, but wisdom prevailed. He banked straight up and let his speed slowly fade as Heaven’s gravity caught him and began pulling down. He shifted his direction and began the long, slow backstroke that would take him to the glade. It had been so long since he felt frustration, even longer since he felt fear. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Tribunal, though he thought perhaps he should be. The fear was worse than that. Never before had Gabriel been denied God’s presence, and though he could feel the divine love embracing him, there was a definite loneliness and longing taking root in his heart.

  How do they endure it in Hell? he wondered, as he had before.

  The others arrived first, winging in below Gabriel and stepping into the peaceful quiet of the forest glade. Gabriel landed behind them and walked in, happier to see them than he had ever been before. Michael and Azrael looked chagrined. Raphael just looked sad.

  He should not be sad. I should not feel fear. This is wrong.

  “You came very close,” said Raphael. “Even though you were the farthest away.”

  “I’m God’s messenger,” said Gabriel. “It’s my job to be fast. Not fast enough, apparently.” He heard the hint of bitterness in his voice and was shocked anew.

  “I cannot think that this is a situation God foresaw,” said Raphael. “So now what?”

  “Now, we continue with the original plan,” said Michael, his voice steady. “We wake every Angel in Heaven to what Tribunal has done to us. Then we march on the mountain and try to see God. With luck, Tribunal won’t be able to stop us all.”

  “I dislike trusting to luck,” said Raphael. “But I think that is our best option right now.”

  “I, too,” said Azrael. “Though I feel we must hurry.”

  “So do I,” said Michael. “So do I, my brothers. Before the traitor finishes whatever it is he’s planning.” They all lowered their eyes with an emotion Gabriel couldn’t have named, though he knew it, too, had no place in Heaven.

  Nyx and Arcana fought their way down from the sky to the earth, driving one another lower and lower until they stood on the rough rock that topped the little Pacific island. Neither had gained an advantage, nor had either scored a blow that hadn’t healed before the next one broke through the other’s guard.

  Neither was tired, either.

  Nyx’s whip cracked out in a circle, trying for Arcana’s wings or eyes. Arcana slipped past it with ease and clashed blade on blade against Nyx. In a fraction of a second, they exchanged a dozen cuts, parries, and thrusts, then broke apart, facing one another. Both tensed and then launched themselves upward to fight once more in the air.

  Neither got more than a foot above the Earth before they were yanked hard down. The suddenness of the change had them staring at one another in shock, then looking down.

  Vines of rock had grown out of the ground and wrapped themselves around each fighter’s ankles. In the moment it took each to realize it, the vines spun up both their legs and squeezed. Arcana’s sword flashed down. It should have severed the rock—nothing on Earth was as strong as Angelic steel. But the rock vines were moving so fast that the cut became a long scar that healed near-instantaneously.

  Nyx and Arcana both fought against the vines, but they were faster and stronger than either of the Angels, and soon both were wrapped foot to neck in them, with only their heads free. The vines twisted until the two were face-to-face. Arcana was still struggling to break free. Nyx could see the effort in her face.

  There was a flapping of wings, and Epiphenia rose out of the forest below.

  Her skin had been white, before. Now, she carried faint lines of green through her body that shone the way it had shone when it was inside of Nyx. Her hair was still flaming red and went halfway down her back. She wore armor of deep green and brown that grew around her like vines and was patterned with leaves: oak, maple, ginkgo, baobab and palm. The blade in her hand was straight and strong and glowed with a green fire.

  She flew easily up between the two Angels and hovered in the air, her wings moving only the slightest bit necessary to keep her where she was. She smiled at Nyx. “Hello, Mother.”

  Nyx found herself smiling back, feeling a pride that was disorienting because it had nothing to do with her own powers. It was humbling, in a way, yet also made her feel stronger. “Hello, Epiphenia.”

  “Mother?” Arcana practically choked on the word. “How can you be a mother? What is that thing? What have you done?”

  “She made me,” said Epiphenia. “With the power given to her by Tribunal.”

  “Why?” demanded Arcana. “What does Nyx want you for? So she can use you to destroy the world the way she’s using Tribunal?”

  “I didn’t use Tribunal,” spat Nyx. “That bastard used me! He’s pissed at God
for making him just to be killed, and now he’s trying to destroy everything!”

  “Liar!” hissed Arcana.

  “Epiphenia is my daughter,” said Nyx. “She has you trapped. Why would I lie?”

  “Actually,” said Epiphenia in her melodious voice, “I have you both trapped. And now we will all go to the beach.”

  The vines twisted and turned, moving through the earth as if it were water, carrying both Angels down from the cliff to the beach below.

  Chapter 9

  Nyx quietly tested the strength of the vines all the way down to the beach. They didn’t budge an inch, and her claws couldn’t even scratch them. She settled for fuming the rest of the way down. “We are going to have a talk about this when we are done,” she sent to Epiphenia.

  “Now, Mother,” Epiphenia sent back. “I have to look unbiased or Arcana will believe I’m siding with you and Tribunal.”

  “I’m not siding with Tribunal!”

  “And we have to convince Arcana of that,” Epiphenia sent. “Trust me, Mother.”

  She looked over her shoulder at the pair of Angels and smiled. “We’re nearly there.”

  Arcana growled something under her breath. Nyx just glared. She had to admit that Epiphenia had a point, and she did trust her, but she didn’t have to be happy about it.

  The jungle parted, and Epiphenia stepped out onto the sand of the beach. Persephone was there, healed and furious. She lunged at Epiphenia as she went past, and fell flat. Persephone’s ankle was tied to the ground by one of the stone vines that held Nyx and Arcana.

  “Now,” said Epiphenia, her voice sweet and gentle. “We will sit, and we will talk.”

  The stone vines parted, then settled to the earth. They slid off the bodies of the two Angels in a long, slow caress, leaving only a single, slim coil wrapped around the ankles of each. But that was enough, as Nyx could tell by discreetly testing it. Epiphenia sat cross-legged in the sand. Her armor shifted and flowed, becoming a long, green dress, perfectly matched to her leaf-colored eyes. “Please,” she said. “Sit.”