Ascent of the Fallen

by Rebecca L. Frencl

  She dialed her cousin. Music blared in the background and she couldn’t hear anything other than his shouted, “Hold on!” for a minute.

  The music became muffled. “So?” Dan’s voice was threaded through with anxiety.

  “He’s fine. They’re keeping him overnight for observation, but there’s nothing wrong. All the tests came back good.”

  Dan’s sigh buzzed in her ear. “Good. God, Fina, that could have been bad. Really bad.”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, replaying the day in her head. “I know.” Memory sparked. “Hey, Dan, did you see anyone with Rue when the paramedics came in?”

  A long pause, during which she heard a bang and flush.

  “Geez, Dan, are you in the bathroom?” She made a gagging noise. “Gross!”

  He laughed. “It was the only place I could hear you. Chloe wanted to check out this new club. What was that? Someone with Rue?” She could almost hear the wheels turning in Dan’s head. “No. In fact, I don’t even remember seeing Rue.”

  “Dan, Rue’s the one who pulled Joss out of the building, don’t you remember?”

  She heard nothing but another flush and muffled music. “Fina, it was a crazy kind of day. I’m lucky I remember my own name right now.”

  “You’re right.” She sighed, feeling the familiar pain start to build behind her left eye. “I’m going to let you go. I need to take my meds and seriously, I hear one more flush I’m going to throw up without the medication helping.” He laughed again. “The bathroom, Dan? You need to think that through a little better next time.”

  “Go rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She took her meds and lay on the couch, trying to keep her stomach under control. She always tried to last a little longer each time. Later, when she felt wrung out and a little sorry for herself, she curled up in bed. She shivered and debated getting the down comforter out of the closet. In the end she decided to stay where she was. She missed Rue. Like Dan had said it had been a crazy day and all she wanted to do was curl up against his warmth, his heartbeat steady under her ear.

  Something thumped outside her window. She froze, ears straining. A light tap, tap, tap on the window in the living room. What in God’s name could be out there? The apartment stood a full floor above the street level and the ledge outside the window wasn’t even wide enough for an herb pot. She knew because she’d tried a few years ago and nearly brained a commuter when it had fallen. So, it had to be nothing. Satisfied with her sophistry, Serafina snuggled in her pillows.

  Tap, tap, tap... louder this time. Lines from “The Raven” skittered through her memory as she slipped out of bed and tugged on her robe. She grabbed the baseball bat she kept next to the dresser and inched open the bedroom door. Moonlight and streetlight usually made the living room bright enough to walk through without needing to turn on a light. A large shadow blocked most of the light and made her freeze with her hand on the doorknob. Tap, tap, tap... Serafina saw the shadow raise a hand and tap on the window pane. Grabbing her courage in both hands, she reached out and flipped on the light switch.

  The baseball bat fell from nerveless fingers. Rue stood on the tiny window ledge, large hawk-colored wings beating behind him, helping him keep his balance. She didn’t even know she’d crossed the room and unlatched the large side window until he was standing in front of her, those huge wings stirring the strands of hair that curled over her throat.

  She knew her mouth hung open. Knew she looked like an idiot, but... Joss’s words came back to her. One of her hands lifted, not to touch the wings, though that would make sense, but to touch his face. Warmth, the scratch of whiskers and the same dark eyes. Sadness and longing swam in them. “Is it still you?” It was so hard to shove that strangled sound past her tight throat.

  One side of his mouth tipped up, the same ironic half-smile she’d seen on his face for months. His dimple winked. “It’s me,” he said, his voice echoing strangely in her head. Still his voice, but oddly choral. He closed his eyes and with a groan gathered her into his arms, the wings sweeping warm and soft around her.

  She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of him. The arms around her, the body against her felt the same, but he smelled wrong, not like the man she knew. “What...?” She pulled back enough to see his face, feeling his arms tighten as though he were afraid she’d bolt. The brief question danced through her brain: why wasn’t she bolting?

  “This is me.” He cleared his throat, his voice settling into its normal cadence. “It’s what I really am.” His eyes drifted to the city outside her windows. “I was sent here to find my compassion.”

  She smiled, though her stomach trembled with something other than medication. “I take it you found it?” She forced her voice light.

  He returned her shaky grin. “I found more than that.” His hands moved over her back into her hair. “I found you.” His dark eyes were serious now. “When I first came here, I couldn’t wait to get home. There was nothing out here that I could see worth saving. I saw greed, selfishness, cruelty.” His fingers stroked through her hair, smoothing it away from her face. “Then I saw you.” He brushed a butterfly- soft kiss over her lips. “I saw you and you restored my faith in humanity.” He kissed her cheeks, her eyes. “You showed me how wonderful it was to be human. You love life. You care genuinely for people and bring out the best of everyone you encounter. You –” his eyes seemed to glow “ –showed me how to love.”

  Serafina knew what he was going to say. Knew what she had to say. “You chose to go back,” she whispered. She framed his face in her hands, willed her heart to stop breaking. “It was the only choice you could have made, Rue.”

  He shook his head, “No, I’d decided to stay here with you. To live out whatever time I had been given with you.” He cast his eyes heavenward. “The Powers that be had other ideas.”

  He led her to the couch, settling her on the cushions. He sat on the coffee table, his wings moving slightly behind him, sending shadows to dance on the floor. “What happens now?”

  The silence stretched long and thick between them. He shook his head, dropping his forehead to her lap. Long shuddering breaths shivered the wings.

  “Please, Rue,” she whispered, “just tell me. I think I already know.”

  He lifted his head. Tears glittered in his eyes. “I have to go back.” Her breath caught. “They need me.”

  She needed him. She wanted to scream, to cry, beg him to stay with her for as long as she had left. She knew better, though. So, she swallowed past the tears that lodged in a hard ball in her throat and nodded. “I thought…. Her lips trembled. “I mean, Rue, could you just imagine the tailoring bills?” She reached out to brush her fingers over the wings. They were so warm and soft.

  He closed his eyes, his breath trembling out of him. “I wish I could feel that.”

  Her hand froze. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t feel that.” He gave her a lost look. “I feel only the press of your hands, a slight pressure.” He shook his head. “That’s all.” He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I wish, more than anything, Serafina, to feel you—really feel you in my arms one more time.” He pressed her hand to his cheek. “I will carry the feel of you with me for the rest of my days, and believe me, there will be many of them.”

  “How long?”

  He frowned.

  “How long do you have left?” she clarified.

  His gaze went to the windows. Gray pre-dawn light was filling the sky over the lake. She knew if she walked over there, she would see the water look like a rolling sheet of lead under the pearling sky. “Until dawn only.”

  * * * *

  Dream or reality?

  She tapped her pen on the desk. It had seemed so unreal, but Rue had assured her it was all true. She lifted the long feather in her free hand, trailing the tip of the pinion under her chin.

  She could see it all without closing her eyes. She knew she’d see it for the rest of her life. Her heart sp
ed up a little, making her breath catch in her throat, for however long that would be.

  He’d wept as dawn stained the horizon, signaling that he had to leave. So had she, she admitted. Tears filled her eyes at the memory.

  He’d felt the same to her. The same wide scarred hands. The same mouth. The same shattered dark eyes. But he’d felt nothing but the pressure of her against him. Angels didn’t feel. Couldn’t feel, he’d whispered against her hair, making her heart break a little more.

  She wrote down a few more details. She didn’t know yet what she’d tell Dan when he asked. Or Joss or Herm, Mackey... the list of those Rue’d touched kept getting longer and longer. Without the wings that he’d wrapped around her she didn’t think she’d have believed it herself.

  Well. She closed the journal and leaned back, certain she couldn’t tell them the truth. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. The open windows at her back brought in a breeze and the scents of the city, flowers and water. The wind made the scarf she’d tied around her head to hide her increasingly bare scalp tickle her neck.

  A timer in the kitchen beeped. It was time to take another round of meds. With a deep sigh, she pulled herself to her feet and wandered over to the counter where she poured a handful of pills into her palm. She knew they were supposed to make her better, but they made her feel so awful. She dreaded the hour after they kicked in. She hated the nausea, the shakes, the helplessness. She stared at the colorful pills as if they’d jump up and dance.

  A hard gust of wind kicked through the room, blowing a pile of mail off the coffee table. She glanced at the clock over the stove. Dan would be over in a little while. Chloe would open the shop and he would wander up to check on her as he had every day since the morning after he’d found Rue in her bed. She clutched the pills, feeling them bite into her palm.

  Rue.

  He wouldn’t wander in before work to check up, stop by at lunch to raid her fridge or come after work to curl up with her on the couch and watch TV. He’d liked mixed martial arts and Jackie Chan films, something that had helped him bond with Dan who had a love for cheesy martial arts movies himself. She’d bought him a boxed set of DVDs that she’d never be able to give him. Maybe she’d give them to Dan instead.

  Padding across the kitchen, she threw the pills in the garbage can, tossing leftover cereal over them.

  She didn’t fear dying anymore. Not after Rue. She was going to live as much as she could. She snapped on her computer. Time to book that trip to England.

  “I knew you were brave.” The silky voice froze her in her tracks.

  With her heart hammering in her chest, she turned. Framed in the sunlight streaming through the window, his golden hair glowed. He had bright blue eyes and a sad smile. “Are

  you....?” Her voice failed her.

  “The Angel of Death?” He crossed toward her. “It’s not your time yet, my dear.” He gestured to the computer. “Make your plans. Book your trip.” His hands were warm as he directed her to her seat. “I just wanted a closer look at you. I’ve heard so much about you from Rue.”

  She folded her hands, trying to keep them from trembling. “Is he....”

  The angel waved one hand. “Back at work.” Those penetrating blue eyes pinned her. “He thinks of you still. Probably will for centuries.”

  “Centuries,” she whispered.

  The angel leaned forward. “I have a proposition for you, my dear.” He gestured to the computer. “Take your trip. Life awaits you, but –” one slender finger stabbed toward the sky “ –I’ll come see you after the first snow falls. You’ll come with me then.”

  Serafina felt her heart trip in her chest. “The first snow?” It was just May now. Snowfall wouldn’t be here for months yet. Months. Not the years her family and doctor were hoping for.

  Months.

  She firmed her mouth, met his eyes. “All right.” She stuck out her hand automatically to shake.

  He took her hand in his, turning it to press a kiss to her wrist. Her skin crawled a little at his touch. Something she figured was normal when the Angel of Death came nearby. Part of her wanted to scream and run, but she knew better than most out there that she couldn’t run from the inevitable.

  * * * *

  Asmoday smiled, wrapping shadows around himself, disappearing from Serafina’s sight. He hadn’t even had to lie, which had been a rather refreshing change. Humans were such wonderful creatures. He loved the way they jumped to conclusions. He’d never confirmed that he was the Angel of Death; she’d just assumed and he now had her promise to go with him after the first snow fell.

  Now that he had the bait, it was time to set the trap. Time to talk to Rue.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Some things never change. Rue crossed his arms over his chest, looking down the line of souls stretching from the huge flaming iron gates at his back to as far as he could see. Glaring illumination from the gates flared and faded, filling the cavernous chamber with shifting crimson light. Huge stalactites reached from the distant ceiling and things with wings, things that not even Rue had ever seen clearly, fluttered and flapped just out of eye-shot. It was altogether a place to put the fear of holy retribution into the souls who waited for their own judging.

  Rue remembered with a twinge his last conversation with Serafina. She’d wondered about what he did. “No,” he’d told her, holding her as dawn painted a spring sky outside her windows. “Not all souls are judged, just those in doubt and those who doubt.” He’d brushed a hand over her hair, wishing he could once more feel the silk of it tangle in his fingers. “Good souls float like balloons and truly evil souls sink like lead. It’s only those who are in doubt who need personal attention.”

  She’d distracted him them, pressing her mouth against his throat, stirring all sorts of regrets.

  With a deep sigh, he turned his mind back to his duty. Nathaniel needed him. Needed him to stay focused and be the balancing stone for the other judges who did not have the knowledge of the human heart that he did.

  The man in front of him hung his head, light from the flaming gate at Rue’s back flickering through him. He read the man’s sins as clearly as they’d been words on a printed page. Theft, greed, and envy... the angel pushed deeper beyond the surface of the sins to their root. A lost job, a sick wife, a rival who cheated his way into a job the man before him had thought he’d deserved... sins, yes, but not worth eternal damnation. Glancing behind him at the flaming gates, the infernal guards with glowing swords, he shook his head.

  “Penitence and service,” he decided. The soul before him flickered once as if surprised, then faded out, destined for the fields of Purgatory.

  So it went. Soul after soul after soul... he wondered how much time would have passed if they marked time here on the borders of Hell.

  “Heard you were on walkabout, Ruvan.” Deimos, one of the gate guards, leaned against the fire gate, the leaping flames making his hairy, squashed nosed, tusked face even more grotesque.

  “For a while, yes.” He waved Yariel into his position and walked to the gate.

  “Noticed you and the others been sendin’ fewer over here.” He licked the edge of his white hot blade. A thick bead of black blood slipped down the length of the weapon. “I haven’t been able to jab a soul in a dog’s age.” He jerked his head to his goat-footed counterpart on the other side of the gate. “We’re getting a little itchy here, Ruvan.”

  He shrugged, “Times change, Deimos.”

  The demon’s harsh laughter scraped across his nerves. “We’ll see.”

  He turned away, letting the endless line of souls, the twisted flaming gates, and the dark cavernous judging chamber fade. Once more he was on Michigan Avenue. He walked unnoticed through the crowds. A thought faded his wings back into the tattoos Joss had inked over all those weeks. His armor transformed into jeans and a Cubs t-shirt.

  The planters were a riot of blooms now. When he’d left, they’d been budding with tulips and crocuses. Now, summer geraniums
and marigolds burst in tangled bunches. The bronze angel at the foot of the bridge didn’t look so much like an angel to his eyes anymore. Vines trailed up her skirts around the long flowing hair, making her look more like a being rising from the earth than a fallen envoy of heaven.

  Sunshine glared down to bounce in dazzling splinters of light off the buildings. Women jogged in tiny shorts and tank tops, sunglasses and hats pulled low. Men in sweat-stained shirts muscled pieces of steel and poured concrete at a construction site in the center of the street. Cabs wove crazily around the construction avoiding suicidal bicycle messengers and distracted pedestrians.

  Rue couldn’t feel the heat of the sun, couldn’t smell the breeze that blew off the lake at his back bringing with it the scent of the water, couldn’t feel the warmth of the pavement under his feet. His eyes sought the corners, the tiny pockets of shadow where building met pavement or building met building. He hunted for deeper shadows. He sniffed the air trying to smell the sickly sweet stench of demonkin or the sharper scent of their full-blooded brethren. Shaking his head, he moved on. Nothing. A stray thought percolated through. Perhaps he had been drawing them out of their little hidey holes? Perhaps he had been the lure, the scent of the angel touched, and now that he was gone they too had slithered back to wherever it is they had come from. Some of the worry that had been gnawing at him since his abrupt return to the heavens lifted.

  His feet directed him, dragging his body with him, to Serafina’s glittery front display.

  Closed.

  He pressed one hand to the glass over the sign. Closed. Where was she? If he’d still been human, his heart would have started pounding, panic threading through his veins.

  “Hey, dude, they’re closed.” The voice drifted over the traffic and construction noise from two doors down. “Owner’s on vacay.”