by Tim Hawken
“One down, three to go,” she said fiercely, her chest heaving with the effort of what she had just done. She turned toward Mount Belial and a look of fear spread across her face. “I hope Mary and Marlowe are ready for them.”
NINETEEN
SCREAMS OF BATTLE MET US as we rocketed toward Casa Diablo. The three remaining Seraphim had arrived before us and were wreaking havoc on the grounds of the castle. Mary and Marlowe must have been somewhat prepared because the entire back lawn was swarming with demons. Azazel and his staff had been called to arms to protect the house. A fight was raging near the castle. Two of the three Seraphim were advancing on the building, screaming murder into the sky and sending gas attacks streaming out of their many mouths. Marlowe had grouped a small force against one, while Mary was leading a fight against the other. The third Seraphim was hovering over the Fount of Mercy, flapping in the air above the bottom pool. A sucker-like tentacle had extended out of its belly and was dragging in the waters, drinking up the green fluid of sleep into its body. Its stomach must have been lined with the inky gas I had seen earlier, causing a barrier that stopped it from being affected. I saw the hideous potential of this right away. If it managed to escape, it could fly back to the battle and spray the toxin onto our legions, or worse, into our city.
Without a pause in my mind, I speared in to attack the angel above the pool. Its attention was on gathering the liquid. Taking my chance of surprise, I created a sawblade of metallic elements out of the sky and sent it cutting down through the belly of the beast. The edges of my creation bit into its skin and sliced downward, wrenching its body in two. In a splash of anguish and gore, it sunk into the depths of liquid sleep. The cry of pain its lion face made before bubbling below the surface turned the attention of the other two monsters. They saw Charlotte and me approach. We landed on the cliff next to the waterfall that splashed down onto their brother. The sight made them howl in anger. One of them pushed a plume of liquid from its mouth into the group of demons that were trying to fend it off. I saw Marlowe narrowly escape the torrent which made those around him go up in a flame of white. There was no time to catch our breath no matter how worn we were from the effort of the chase. We had to stop this threat immediately.
“Left,” I said to Charlotte through heaving breaths. “We go together.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Now!”
Leaping off the cliff, my wife fearlessly sparked ahead. Marlowe had rounded on the Seraphim on the right, managing to skewer one of its wings with his sword. Azazel was next to him, running headlong into the beast’s back, gouging his horns into the space between its wings. I followed behind Charlotte, knowing we had a serious fight on our hands. The monster we shot towards saw us coming, swelling up its abdomen to defend itself with a blast of air. Charlotte realized what it was trying to do and pushed her own weave of air towards it, dispersing the gaseous attack away to nothing. My wife’s feet hit the ground and she rolled sideways as a wing tried to strike her flat. Lotte’s blocking move had paved the way for me. I came in at top speed, flexing my hands. Bowling into the Seraphim, I latched my fingers deep into its skull and tore upwards. The ripping of flesh felt beautiful in its intimacy as I plucked the thing’s head clean off its neck. Stinking gas and plasma squirted out of the wound, as I pulled clear. The headless body flailed for a few moments, listlessly flapping its six wings one last time, before it crashed backwards. Without so much as looking at the ghastly thing in my hands, I sent searing flame into it and burnt the head to ash.
Touching down, I knelt, feeling exhaustion try to take over my body. Closing my eyes for just a few moments, I let the sounds of the continuing fight spur my motivation. Looking up and over the lawn, I could see between the carnage. The final Seraphim swept a deadly row of wings against Azazel’s advancing demons. They were all thrown backwards, bouncing like hapless dice. I searched around and saw Charlotte, reclaiming her strength and wits from our attack. Mary was close to her, but she only had eyes for the last monster. She let out a call to those around her and they regrouped. Marlowe and Azazel were on its other side. They had been pushed back from their initial attack, but were also reforming their defense of the castle. I could see in the Seraphim’s eyes that it knew it was trapped. Taking my time, I rose to full height, stalking on foot towards the hideous angel. It locked gazes with me, seeing my determination.
Without warning, the Seraphim bellowed blackness from every orifice in its body. Clouds of poison filled the lawn, spewing towards us. Charlotte, who was closer than me, threw up a barrier of air to stop the fog from overtaking our side of the grounds. The cloud rose up, hiding the Seraphim from view. I was about to launch forward when I saw it lift up high in the sky. Its body was half the size of before, having expended all its internal power in a desperate act of survival. The wings on its back buzzed, lifting it away in retreat, back out over the jungle. I prepared to go after the thing, when a voice stopped me.
“It cannot hurt us now,” Phineus shouted from behind the group. I turned to see the prophet, untouched by the fight. His eyes were shrouded in foresight. “There is other work you must do,” he said with the certainty of fate, “if you are to have any hope of winning this fight.”
TWENTY
THE BLACK FOG that had hung over the grounds of Casa Diablo dispersed, as Charlotte blew an elemental wind to spread it away. The lawn was littered with comatose bodies that had succumbed to the poison of the Seraphim. Among them Marlowe and Azazel lay, as still as death. The sight of my African friend claimed all my attention. I ran to him, ignoring the others who I knew were safe for now. Coming to his side I knelt down, letting the elements hold my vision. A quick scan of his state let me breathe a sigh of relief. The effect would only be temporary, nowhere near as powerful as the waters of sleep, which still shimmered over to the end of the lawn. Placing my hand over my friend’s mouth, I drew the gas from Marlowe’s lungs. As the poison exited his body he spluttered awake, heaving to his feet and looking around wildly.
“It’s okay,” I said to him, trying to calm myself at the same time. “Only one got away. We are safe for the moment.”
By now the others had gathered around. Mary was flushed from the fight. Charlotte was only a touch more composed, her blonde hair tousled and knotted. Phineus approached at a walk. The other demons who had escaped the gas held a distance. Bodies still lay around us, yet to be revived.
“What’s happening in the desert?” Mary asked in a rush.
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling tired suddenly after the heat of the battle. “When we left we were winning… just. But anything could have happened since then.”
“We have to get back there,” Charlotte said with a sense of urgency.
I looked to each of my friends, who all looked back at me for direction. My eyes fell past them to the green waterfall we had come back to defend. It was a too much of a liability. I couldn’t leave it as it was.
“I need to destroy the Fount of Mercy,” I said breathlessly. “Azazel and his workers need healing. We need to secure this place, before rushing headlong back into the breach.”
Phineus stood silent, his attention elsewhere. His eyes were still looking beyond this point in time. No matter what he was seeing, I knew those waters couldn’t stay as they were, with a Seraphim still alive to use them against us.
“Charlotte and Mary,” I said. “Do your best to heal those who have fallen. Marlowe, regroup the others in case there is another attack. Keep them clear from me.”
Pausing to place a reassuring hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, I walked toward the Fount of Mercy. My heart was racing, my mind tumbling ahead in a game of chess I didn’t understand. My gut was churning and hot. I couldn’t stop. Not now. I came to the edge of the green pool. The waterfall thundered down from the cliff above. In the depths of the centre, I could just make out the silhouette of the Seraphim I had cut in half. It was time to destroy this cursed creation of mine.
Closing my eyes, I let the feeling o
f the world soak in around me. Atoms brushed over me. Elements whirled. I summoned the molecules of earth from deep in the mountain below, twisting them, unseen far beneath. Using my mind, I made them churn and burrow downward into depths that would never be found. Lifting a funnel to meet the surface, I let the sinkhole collapse inward. With a gurgle, the waters in front of me started to drain away. Watching without passion, I let every last drop siphon off, pulling the pieces of the Seraphim along with it. As I looked on, the waterfall above slowed to a drip, its source of flow severed. With one final flick of my hand, I sent a slice of air through the cliff above. It sparked an avalanche that rained rock down into the sinkhole. My construction crumbled, falling down and away far into black nothing beneath. Once the landslide had settled, I pulled what remained of the cliff right over the top of the hole. Sealing it off, I solidified the ground again, making sure the mountain was firm once more. I let grass grow from out of the destruction, restoring the lawn to what it had been before I had interfered with it. No one would find those waters again, unless I wanted them to. They had been buried deeper than anyone else would even think possible, away from the mountain into a depth that might have even scraped the bottom of the universe. My stomach settled and a brief sense of peace washed over me. I had done this right.
The dust cleared, but I stayed where I was, watching out over the jungle. I felt slightly numb looking on. My brain and body needed time to recoup. Keeping on my feet, I stared outward. There was movement out in the desert that I didn’t yet understand. A noise behind me made my head turn. Mary, Marlowe, Charlotte and Phineus had come out to the edge of the lawn. We stood on Mount Belial together, with our backs to the castle.
“Azazel is shutting the building off completely,” Mary said to me, her hands clenched at her sides from the stress of what had happened.
I nodded slowly, but kept watching below. The movement had become clearer. Legions of demons were retreating across the sands, pursued by Heaven’s warriors. They were reforming at the beginning of the jungle, creating a new line of defense against the enemy, who had gained an advantage in my absence. The air was awash with color. The distant forms of planes, demons and angels looked like flocks of birds, attacking each other from within. A feeling of dread crept into my stomach.
“We have to help them,” Charlotte said next to me, clutching my arm as if to sweep me back off the mountain.
“No,” I said, shaking her off. “This is all just a distraction. Asmodeus is not down there.”
Her eyes went wide with an understanding of what that meant. If this were indeed the true battle, my father would have been leading the charge. His absence meant he had more important plans brewing. There could only be one frightening possibility, but I didn’t want to voice it.
“He is building a new barrier above,” Phineus said, his words echoing my worst fears.
I looked to the prophet whose eyes had returned to their regular cloudy blue. The color draining from his face struck terror in my heart. Had he seen more than he was letting on? No matter what he could say, there was no choice but to rise to Heaven and face Asmodeus now. If he succeeded in rebuilding the filter, all would be lost. There was no way he could have done something so time consuming already, but without interruptions the task would be much easier. While the war raged here below, Asmodeus was creating that diabolical device anew. If he pulled it shut, his angels and saints would be drawn upwards, safe from any pursuit by the Legions of Hell. It wasn’t his plan to defeat us. It was his plan to throw everything he could into delaying our ability to enter Heaven so he could recast the universe. It had to be stopped.
“I’m coming with you,” Charlotte said, realizing what I had to do without it being said.
“You can’t,” I said to her, lowering my voice.
I shut the others out of my mind for the moment. The only thing holding my attention was the beautiful face of my wife. This might be the last time I would get to see it without other distractions. I took in the curve of her lips and her innocent cheeks. Her blonde hair fell over ears that I knew were dark red. She wasn’t the sum of her body parts, however. It was the light behind her eyes that made her who she was. I could see that light sparking fiercely now, getting ready for an argument I couldn’t let her win.
“I will not let you put yourself in danger of fulfilling Phineus’ vision. I won’t,” I said.
She started to interrupt me, but I silenced her with a kiss.
“I won’t,” I repeated into her lips, before pulling away and gripping her upper arms tenderly, but firmly. “This is too important, Lotte. You are needed down here. You have to fight with the legions and use your strength to help turn the tide. You need to divert all the angels’ attention away from me. I can’t have anyone following me up if I have any hope of beating him. Promise me you’ll do that.”
Lotte glowered at me with hurt eyes. She knew the sense of what I was saying. If she didn’t create a diversion, keeping the Archangels or the last Seraphim from coming to help their master, I would never succeed. I could see her grasping for an excuse, so I pressed my point.
“You know there isn’t any other way. Promise me,” I said softly.
She paused, looking out to the desert. Lotte watched the fighting for what seemed like an age, while I held my breath for her answer.
“No one will follow you,” she said, finally staring back at me. “I’m not saying goodbye to you though, Michael. You will come back to me.”
There was no way I could promise such a thing, so I kissed her again instead, pressing my lips to hers and letting them linger as our foreheads touched. I sighed with the sorrow of the moment, but hid it by looking back to Mary.
“Go to the city,” I ordered her. “Get Zoroaster to bring every soldier we have out to the desert. They’ll need everything we can offer in support.”
Mary just bowed her head to show she understood. Her red curls reminded me of the blood that was now flowing out in the desert. She had been a true friend and I wanted to go and give her a hug farewell, just in case I didn’t return. The moment didn’t allow such personal comforts.
“Marlowe,” I said, turning to my African friend.
I paused for a second. My stomach fluttered with a breath of possibility. I had grown to know the feeling since the revelation of how I had managed to hide Mary’s plan of betrayal, even from myself. It was my instinct working in my favor. I listened and let it speak for me.
“Go to The Perceptionist,” I said to Marlowe, “Tell him I am going to follow the path of the good shepherd, but that he must close the gate behind me.”
“What?” Charlotte asked, her face twisting into fearful confusion.
Mary looked on in stoic silence, as though she understood what I was saying, but knew not to interfere.
“I will tell him,” Marlowe said, never one to ask questions.
“What does that mean?” Charlotte asked, her panic showing.
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly, “but I have to keep the secret buried in me if I hope to defeat my father.”