Warring Angel

by Samantha L. Strong

  “Did you hear what I said?” Serinh’s golden wings fluttered. “The Council wants to speak to you. They’ve asked me to bring you to the Praetorium upon your return.”

  I rubbed a finger over Chana’s nose before standing. “No.”

  Harbinger’s hand flew to her chest and Serinh’s eyes widened. “No?”

  “Do you recall the Muse who made this furniture?” I ran a hand over the arm of a chair.

  “Enael, are you feeling all right?” Serinh stepped closer. “Perhaps we should send you to the Sanctuary as well.”

  “I told you before: I’m perfectly fine. I’m not going to the Praetorium to get a lecture from the other Seraphim, and I’m certainly not going to listen to Parsiel berate me for what I did to his plan. It was amounting to nothing and we all know it.”

  “Well…”

  “They’re coming to us. Get the Muse who made this furniture in here. Have him or her make you another chair. Or find someone who can make a matching one. Put it here,” I pointed at an empty spot, “so I can sit with the nine of you and have a discussion about what we’re doing next. I have ideas, and despite what you’re all saying, I know you don’t. I’m the Cornerstone, and I intend to fulfill my duties as such.”

  Her wings flapped once and stilled.

  Harbinger’s lips twitched, but she smoothed a hand over her skirts.

  “Oh,” I finished, “and get a bed for Chana. We can put her in the room with the mirror. We should keep this between the ten of us. It might get heated.”

  I was seated in the new chair when the Seraphim started arriving. Serinh let them in, kissing their cheeks and pressing her palm against theirs. Heppeliam sat directly across from me, crossed his legs, and looked out the window. Iztar, silent as always, came next, sat, and joined him in reverie.

  I had reverted my aspect to white tunic and pants, dismissing my accessories and makeup. After staring in the mirror for a long moment, I kept my crow’s feet. They suited me. I looked wiser.

  Slowly the rest arrived, Dariet, Gamsior, and Quii making small talk, the rest staring out the window or smoothing their feathers. Parsiel was the last.

  Serinh sat and pointed to the chair next to herself, offering it to him. The other seven fell silent. Instead of sitting, he moved behind me and leaned on my chair. “What are we doing here?”

  I folded my hands in my lap. “We’re here to discuss the next steps in our war against Asorat.”

  “Serinh, what are we doing here?” he said again.

  I answered, “Please have a seat and we can begin.”

  “I certainly will not. I do not take orders from a Nephil, and I certainly will not engage in a military strategy session with an untrained angel.”

  I twisted to gaze up at him. “You can sit or you can stand. I don’t care. But no one is leaving this apartment until I’ve said my piece.”

  He refused to look at me. “Are the rest of you going to allow this?”

  I turned back to the group. Serinh was perched on the edge of her seat. Heppeliam’s posture suggested casualness, but every muscle in his arms was tense. Unsurprisingly, Quii spoke first to once again smooth over the tension in the room. “I want to hear what she has to say. You must admit, we could use fresh ideas.”

  Eight pairs of golden eyes looked past my head to Parsiel, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of craning up at him again. Serinh’s wings relaxed, and he stalked around my chair to plop next to her.

  So undignified for a Seraph. Laughter bubbled inside my chest.

  “Good day to you all,” I began. “Thank you for joining me. Let’s first discuss the unfortunate situation with my Wards, Bernadette and Chana.”

  Parsiel leapt to his feet. “She’s not the Praetor! She can’t call us to order! She’s not even a Seraph!”

  “Sit down,” said Heppeliam. “This gathering might be unorthodox but it’s not harming anything.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Except maybe your pride.”

  Parsiel blinked and sat.

  Heppeliam nodded at me to continue.

  “As I was saying, the situation with Bernadette and Chana is unfortunate. I made, to use Heppeliam’s word, an unorthodox decision. However, I did nothing against the Source’s wishes.”

  “You killed them!” said Parsiel. “It wasn’t part of their Incarnation Plan. She was our Cornerstone. She was supposed to lead us to victory.”

  I allowed silence to settle over the room. “The Source instructed us not to kill humans who wished to stay embodied. My Wards’ Incarnation Plans had gone awry. They were being held against their wills in a concentration camp, which, by the way, I do not recall being part of anyone’s Incarnation Plan.”

  A few heads were nodding, but Serinh was still perched on the edge of her seat.

  “My partner, Zaponsla, and many of the Guardians there were in some kind of trance. It fell to me to protect two humans, which is nearly impossible under the best conditions. In this situation, they were so far off their Incarnation Plans, none of you could figure out how to bring them back.

  “And have you been to that place? The air is thick with fear and strained fate. If I were a human, I’d say that it made it hard to breathe, but since I’m not, I’ll simply say that it was more oppressive than anything I’ve ever experienced.”

  This was possibly the longest speech I’d ever given in front of the Council, at least one delivered so calmly and smoothly. I clasped my fingers tighter to steady myself.

  “I made the only decision I could,” I finished, “and I won’t argue about it. You asked me to take care of my Ward, and I did, in the only way I knew possible.”

  Quii lifted a hand. “Did you say that you could feel the threads of fate straining?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Nephil aren’t supposed to—”

  “Never mind that,” Parsiel interrupted. “What are we going to do? Even if Chana was in a state to return, we’ve lost years. Asorat’s power is growing tremendously.”

  “I have an idea, but first I’d like to inquire about your alliances with the humans,” I said.

  “What alliances?”

  “The ones where you’ve discussed war strategies, perhaps in dreams or even returned them to Heaven while sleeping, to strategize future military campaigns.”

  Heppeliam’s eyebrow raised. “We’ve never done that before. Returning them to Heaven while sleeping is reserved for Foresight Sessions.”

  “Is there any reason you can’t?”

  “It’s not done,” exclaimed Parsiel. “We mustn’t interfere in their lives.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Source has commanded us not to!”

  I inclined my head. “I will grant that the Source has asked that of us under normal circumstances. However, these are extraordinary circumstances. Asorat is ignoring all the rules we adhere to, recruiting into his demonic ranks, and using the humans’ lives as he sees fit.”

  “And you want us to throw away our morals and do as our enemy does?” said Parsiel.

  My lips tightened. I wanted to say, You’ve done it before, more than once. Instead, I said, “I’m not asking you to violate anyone’s Plan. All I’m asking is that you enlist the humans that want to into our military strategy. It’s about helping them win their war. If the Nazis are defeated, Asorat’s power will disappear and he won’t be able to carry out his plan to take your power.”

  As I spoke, faint, golden lines of power appeared, stretching through each of their wings toward the sky. I blinked, unsure if it was my imagination, but the vision didn’t disappear.

  Heppalaim nodded. “We’ve discussed something similar to that approach, but we were hoping—”

  Parsiel interrupted again. “We were expecting that Chana would raise an army against Adolf without us taking extreme measures.”

  “Ah,” I said. “So you hung all your plans on one small girl, who’d never even lived a life before, and wished for the best.”

  “She’s a Dominion. H
alf angel.” Parsiel huffed. “We never thought you would kill her before she reached a decade old!”

  I lifted my palms. “What’s done is done. I already gave an explanation for that. You either accept it or you don’t, and you either want to try what I’m suggesting or you don’t.”

  “No, absolutely not.” Parsiel looked around the circle but no one met his gaze. They were either looking at me or at Heppeliam.

  Heppeliam said, “I can admit when I’m wrong.” Then you haven’t been a Seraph long enough. “Our most valuable resources are the people who are alive today, and asking so much of Chana was an error.”

  Parsiel’s mouth flopped open.

  “I think Enael has an excellent point about assisting the humans more,” said Heppeliam. “The Allies have been discussing a possible military push for months now, but nothing has been coming of it. Each nation’s leaders are either attempting to solve this on their own or their joint plans have not gone well. We can help smooth that over, give the same idea to several of the leaders, and use them to convince the rest of them. None of them need know it’s us.”

  “And what of the atomic bomb they’re developing?” Waht said. “I don’t like the project they have underway. The discovery of fission early was too fortuitous to be a coincidence. Something bad is going to come of that if we don’t intervene.”

  “I agree.” Dariat’s statement was singsong and he swayed in his chair.

  I stifled the grin that was threatening to break out across my face. Serinh had moved back from where she’d perched to recline slightly.

  “That settles it,” I announced. “Parsiel, Heppeliam, and I will work together to create a military strategy that the humans can use, and then we will rally a war council on Earth to ensure they’re enable to enact it.”

  “Preposterous!” said Parsiel.

  What a surprise. “I am the Cornerstone. It’s high time that you,” and I took in the entire Council, “begin treating me as such. No more hiding me in a nursery. No more shoving me into the rank and file. No more sticking me at the front of a pointless mission, hoping that whatever Cornerstone luck the Source created me with is going to rub off on your plans.”

  The nine of them exchanged glances, Quii with Heppeliam, Serinh with Iztar, Parsiel with anyone who would look at him.

  After an uncomfortably long pause, Heppeliam shrugged. “That’s perfectly sensible. When Serinh and I disagreed about your assignment all those years ago, it was over this very issue. Even your attempt at persuading Adolf to back down didn’t feel right.”

  The others nodded, including Parsiel—vigorously.

  “You’ve had years of experience amongst the humans. Possibly more than any other angel,” finished Heppaliam. “You know how they think. I believe you’ll be an excellent strategist. You needn’t be cannon fodder for the ranks.”

  I didn’t ask why he had waited this long to finally say so. I was just happy someone was listening to me.

  Waht spoke. “I like this for an offensive plan, but what about defense? When Asorat realizes we’re aiding the humans, he might move forward with his plans for attacking Heaven.”

  “I can help with that,” Serinh said. “Years ago, I instructed the Vycanums to begin a prayer to give strength to something I’ve adapted based on a pagan ritual. It’s one of the first spells the humans created thousands of years ago, imbuing salt with power to protect their homes.”

  Parsiel barked, “We don’t use spells in Heaven. Those are for Earth.”

  “But the same principles apply,” I said smoothly before Serinh could speak up. I needed to continue establishing myself as a leader in the eyes of the Seraphim. That was why I’d called this meeting, and it was the only way I could truly became the Cornerstone the Source wanted me to be. “We’re in extraordinary times.”

  “Are the rest of you in agreement with this?” demanded Parsiel.

  “Let’s take a vote,” I said, “but this time, I think the Praetor should vote with everyone else.”

  “I agree,” said Serinh. “All those in favor, please raise your right hand.”

  She put hers up immediately, followed by Heppeliam and Quii, then Waht, Dariet, Gamsior, and Xanor. Parsiel kept his down, and Iztar didn’t raise hers.

  “All those opposed?”

  “Definitely me.” Parsiel’s hand shot up. Iztar raised hers as well. I wasn’t sure why she kept opposing me, but it scarcely mattered.

  “Seven in favor, two against. The Council of Seraphim has decided.”

  Parsiel grunted.

  Serinh’s voice smoothed over, businesslike. “If there is nothing further—”

  “I have one more thing,” I said.

  Nine heads turned toward me and my stomach somersaulted. Now or never, Enael.

  “I don’t know who the Aleph is or if this creature truly exists. But if it does, then I believe it is sitting in this room with us.” I kept my eyes on Parsiel. “Whoever, whatever you are, I want you to know this: we’re going to stop Asorat and then I’m coming after you. What I’ve done to Osubatz, how I’ve rallied the Council, that’s only the first step. The Source made me for a purpose, and I intend to succeed in that purpose.”

  I broke my gaze with Parsiel and looked at each of the others in turn.

  “I don’t know if you—the Aleph—intends to leak information to Asorat to set back our plans or if you prefer that we win. Either way, I will be meeting with each of you individually and giving you information about the plan that only you know. So if Asorat gets that information, I will know exactly who you are. And then your troubles will truly begin.”

  “Who’s Osubatz?” Parsiel demanded.

  “He’s the demon who tormented Chana and Bernadette.”

  “And what did you do to him?”

  “I trapped him in Hell for all eternity.”

  Quii gasped and the others looked astounded.

  “You can’t just—” she started.

  “But I did.” I fluttered my eyelashes at her, a little giddy from my victory. “If there’s nothing else, then you’re all dismissed. Parsiel, Heppeliam, let’s go to the Praetorium.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Parsiel, Heppeliam, and I spent long hours discussing the best way to convey our war strategy to the humans. Parsiel poured his energy—perhaps all of his hatred for me—into our sessions. I was impressed with his commitment to help the humans once I saw it.

  When we finished, I broke the plan into pieces, added my own flair, and doled out assignments to each of the Seraphim. Although I wanted to flush out any possible conspirators, more importantly, I wanted to determine my most likely candidate for Aleph.

  I met with Heppeliam first.

  Without preamble, he said, “All of my decisions when I was your Archangel were military ones. I couldn’t let my personal feelings interfere with that.”

  “I know.”

  We’d taken over half the Praetorium’s Incarnation Planning floors for the war effort. We were sitting in the office the Council had assigned me soon after we began working on the plan. In front of me was a leather-bound book full of my scribbled notes. The cover was a bronze color I’d never seen before Serinh had handed it to me. I liked it: it reminded me of my uniqueness.

  “I meant what I said in front of the other Seraphim,” said Heppeliam. “You have great potential. I thought we needed to unlock it the right way, and now we are.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” I opened my book and flipped to the section I’d outlined for him. “As you know, you’ll be speaking with the President of the United States. Once you secure his loyalty toward our Germany invasion, see if you can convince him to revisit the Manhattan Project.”

  Throughout the conversation, I tried to muster up suspicion but failed. Heppeliam was too newly made as a Seraph, too focused on war strategy. I couldn’t imagine this grizzled war veteran plotting to take over Heaven and Earth. He seemed to have no desire to be responsible for more than his strategies and was merely worki
ng to gain the respect of his new peers.

  The next two Seraphim were also the newer ones. Gamsior, my Archangel when I was a Reaper, congratulated me on my rise in status. Quii, the easily flustered Engineer Seraph, spent much of the session questioning me about the thinning of fate we’d discussed in our gathering. Both seemed benign and preoccupied with their own concerns.

  Flighty, lyrical Dariet was charged with the Muses; logical, direct Xanor with the Cherubim; direct, gruff Waht with the Tenders. Iztar, who’d voted against me bowed her head and said, “I hope we win.” I got nothing more than nods out of her after that. The only thing I learned from their discussions was that some personalities fit their current assignments and some did not.

  Serinh was serene and smiling. “I’m so proud of you, Enael. I knew you’d be a great leader some day, and look at what you’re accomplishing.”

  “Indeed.” I flipped through my book. I’d never fully let go of my suspicion of her. After finding the information she was to relay to the Prime Minister of Great Britain, I leaned forward. “Serinh, are you the Aleph?”

  Her smile dropped. “No.”

  “How do I know that’s true?”

  “You don’t.”

  “Well, then.” I leaned back. Again I noticed a stream of golden power flowing from the base of her wings through the tips and up into Heaven’s sky, pulsing energy to and from the Source. Am I imagining this?

  “I know why you’re asking,” she said. “I wish I could give you some assurance that I’m not. I only want what’s best for Heaven.”

  “Wouldn’t the Aleph say that?”

  “Of course.” She sighed. “Let me offer you this piece of information, and perhaps it will give you the faith in me you need. Have you been into the basement of the Archives?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t know the Archives had a basement.”

  “When you have time, go and ask to be shown the Ancient Collection. After centuries of study, none of us have been able to make head or tails of the information contained within them. Perhaps you, Cornerstone, will find a way to make sense of it.”