Apparently, Chana wasn’t the only one going through a metamorphosis.
CHAPTER 39
I let go of my wing. I don’t have time to worry about this now.
I faded into the War Room. Dozens of Nephilim moaned in beds, and frazzled Tenders ran between them. We’d designated this location as backup medical triage, but I’d never expected the primary location in the Sanctuary to fill up so quickly.
“They’re attacking everywhere!” said one of my Nephil assistants. Most of my squad was missing, attending to other locations and my orders about Vycanus.
“What’s going on?”
“Asorat’s armies are using poison on their weapons. Whenever anyone gets hit, they have only a few minutes before they’re writhing in pain.”
A Nephil squirmed in bed and two Tenders strapped her down. A third poured angel water over a gash on her leg, but she screamed and cried out. The wound healed, but not all the way—blue blood still oozed despite the semi-healing. Her eyes went wide and rolled back in her head. She slumped into the Tenders’ arms.
“And then they go into a coma,” said my assistant.
Asorat had gotten creative when preparing his weapons against us.
“How does the Nexus fare?” As I asked the question, I inspected the map.
“Not well.”
Two golden dots in the middle of the map denoted Serinh and Parsiel. An army of black dots was breaking against the line of Nephilim on the side. The platoon from the outer circle had fortified that location. Blue dots were steadily moving around the circle to seal it off on all sides, and several other blue dots ran back and forth, presumably carrying salt bags from the pile.
“How close are they?” I could tell the answer: three-quarters finished. Well on their way, but Parsiel was right. We should have prepared sooner. “Never mind. What—”
I stopped myself short. I was about to ask what we were going to do, but this Nephil fiddling with the tip of her wing wasn’t going to have the answer.
“Where’s Heppeliam?” Perhaps he had an idea.
“He’s at Normandy. They’re about to storm the beach.”
I let out a long, slow, unnecessary breath, just like the humans do, to try to calm myself while I was thinking. “Call back two platoons from Vycanus. Send them to fortify the Nexus.” I’d sent too many to Vycanus. Bringing back half of them would still leave plenty to drive off the demons in Vycanus. We couldn’t spare any from Earth—the humans needed all of the forces we’d planned to send against Normandy. If we could hold off the demons from invading Heaven long enough, their power would diminish and we would win.
But we had a long time to wait. The Normandy invasion would take a day, maybe two, and only then would the Nazis’ power begin to wane.
O Source, how am I going to keep them from destroying us?
Still no answer.
“Good citizens of Heaven.” Asorat’s voiced boomed in my head again, and my assistant doubled over. “Come witness the glory of my descent into the Heavenly sphere.”
Without bothering to give a command, I ran out of the Praetorium.
Lit by the beam in the distance, Asorat, with huge, black, sparkling wings, devoid of the threads of power I saw in angels, descended from the clouds. I leapt into the air in time to witness Parsiel directing three Nephilim pairs to break off from the demonic attack on the eastern side to defend against him. They flew upward, spiraling around the beam of light. As they approached, Asorat thrust out a hand and they bounced off an invisible barrier.
“No!” I shouted, but it was too late.
All six plummeted to smash into the ground.
I flew faster, not knowing what I was going to do, but certain I needed to get there quickly. As I arrived, the bodies of the Nephilim, now lying twisted on the Nexus floor, shimmered and attenuated before bursting into droplets.
Horrified, I watched as the droplets lifted higher and higher before being absorbed by the Source.
“That’s not possible,” I said to the wind and the cracking lightning. “Eternal creatures don’t die like that.”
Asorat continued his slow descent, flapping on monstrous, black wings. High above him came his entourage: Kaspen, Fanush, the three former Seraphim, and the last three on his impostor Council.
“Come forth from your buildings,” boomed Asorat, “and witness the extent of my power.”
He seemed unconcerned about the Nephilim scurrying about, closing the salt circle. Wind whipped at our garments, and a purple streak of lightning flashed above him.
I landed next to Parsiel and Serinh, whose golden energy threads were thin and dim. How are we going to stop him if he’s dampened our powers?
Serinh shouted, clearly speaking to her peers, wherever they might be. “Rally to me, Seraphim. This is our only chance. We have to hold him off until the circle is complete.”
The demonic army split into four groups to harry our forces at each corner. The progress on the crystal circle slowed, though only a few more bags in each location would finish it.
Asorat stopped, flapping and hovering, while his Council flew in lazy circles above him.
Parsiel craned his neck upward and yelled at the sky. “This is not your domain!”
The demon’s laughter echoed both out loud and in my mind, ferocious and disdainful and frightening.
Heppeliam was the first Seraph to appear. He joined Parsiel and Serinh on the floor near the beam. “We’ll not let you win, Asorat,” he shouted.
The shimmering outline of another Seraph appeared next to me. Before Quii could materialize, Asorat thrust out a hand. A wind buffeted us, knocking me backward. The Seraphim kept their footing, but then Asorat splayed his hands again. Lightning cracked across the sky, angry purple, again and again and again. The boom shook the ground, scattering the Nephilim. Several skidded into the salt outline they’d created on the east side, scattering the crystals everywhere.
“No!” I screamed.
As the Nephilim scrambled to fix the damage, the Seraphim appeared one by one—Dariat, Iztar, Gamsior, Waht, and finally Xanor—to join hands and circle the beam of light. With the next lightning strike, a crack opened in the ground, but they jumped into the air. With all nine Seraphim linked, their arms glowed gold, and the waning golden threads through their wings brightened and thickened. Crackles leapt over their hands, snaking across their bodies and zapping the air. They flew upward steadily, approaching Asorat.
He thrust out a hand and they halted.
“Push, Seraphim, push!” shouted Serinh.
Frozen for too many long moments, I leapt into action, lifted a bag, and carried it to the outline. The demons threw themselves toward us, but tridents flashed to repel them. One more bag would finish off the north and south, with several more needed to finish the east and west.
“You’ll not defeat me,” said Asorat. “You’re all weak. You haven’t even figured out the identity of the Aleph. Even if you win, you’ll soon be under its heel. But you won’t defeat me. The Nazis have given us the power we need. And now—now my Council and I will become the rulers of Heaven and Earth.”
The Seraphim’s upward progress stopped. All nine sets of wings flapped as they strained against an invisible barrier.
“Push!” commanded Serinh.
The clouds themselves were turning a deep, bruise-like purple. I practically threw a bag of crystals at the nearest Nephil, who caught and ripped it open. We were almost done. The southern and northern areas were finished. The Nephilim at the western section were pouring the last bag. If the Seraphim could hold him off until the eastern gap was closed, we would cast Asorat out of the Nexus and prevail.
Purple lightning crackled within the beam, lighting up Asorat’s sunken cheeks, and streaking across the Seraph. All nine gasped in unison, and then Dariat shrieked.
They hovered, suspended, straining their wings with giant flaps.
A second streak of lightning crackled over their bodies. This time, they groaned,
wavering in the air. Their hands fell slack, and the golden threads binding them faded. Serinh gurgled, unable to form a word.
Asorat declared, “I win!”
He threw his hands in the air, punctuating the last purple lightning flash that streaked downward through the Seraphim. It struck the birthing bowl and marble pillar, and both shattered. The closest symbols on the marble floor of the Nexus glowed purple, sparkling into the air.
And then the Council of Seraphim started to fall from the sky.
“No!” I screamed.
Desperately, I ripped open the last bag to close the circle. Before the crystals could fall, electric pain lit my body and screaming filled my ears. Behind me, the Seraphim bodies hit the ground with a resounding thud, and the world went black.
CHAPTER 40
I awoke—a strange feeling and not one I’d experienced often outside of being embodied. My mind drifted in sludge, and I struggled as though my very soul was being dragged out of the depths of Hell. My eyes resisted but I forced them open.
The ceiling above me was light gray. My wings were folded comfortably underneath me, and a blanket lay on top of me. I was warm and comfortable—and confused.
I struggled to sit up.
“She’s conscious,” said a voice. “Fetch Asorat, quickly.”
A demon with black wings stepped up next to my bed. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, stretching her expression into a sneer.
I gathered myself and leapt forward, calling a trident to hand.
It didn’t appear.
As I crashed into her, she snatched my wrists, twisted me onto my back, and pushed me to the floor. My legs tangled in the blanket and I fought to extricate myself.
“Ouch.” I kept my voice even, hoping to distract her. “You’re crushing my wings.”
I shoved her, rolled, and pinned her below me, but her grip on my arms refused to let go no matter how I struggled. I flapped to lever off her, my feet scrabbling around hers, the blanket wedged between us. I kneed her in the groin, but as expected, she merely let out a grunt and renewed her grip.
I stopped fighting, instead glaring down at her while I considered how to wrench free.
“Am I interrupting something?” said Asorat from the door.
The demon pushed me upward and let go of my wrists, and I struggled to my feet. She snatched the blanket away and threw it onto the bed before leaping up.
Asorat towered over me. His burnished bronze wings were the color of the journal Serinh had given me. Thick cords of power ran from the base of his wings up through the tips and into the sky.
“What’s happened?” I demanded. “Where are the Seraphim?”
“Safe, tucked away inside the Source.”
“You killed them?”
“Do any of us ever really die?” He nestled his hands below his wings. He’s just showing them off now. “Oh, no. They’re merely taking a much-needed rest. I’m sure they’ll return some way or another.”
My bravado was fading. He’d murdered the entire Council of Seraphim, which I’d not even thought possible. I had no idea how I was going to escape. “What do you want of me? Why am I here?”
“That, my dear Cornerstone, is simple. I need your help to defeat the Aleph.”
“The Aleph? What’s the Aleph done?”
“It has interfered with my plans. It would seem that my spell to overtake Heaven has been blocked by its machinations. It funneled some of the power to itself, and I’m unable to tap into the entirety of the Seraphim’s power for myself and my new Council.”
I almost laughed. “That sounds like a terrible problem you have. Why would I help you?”
“I understand you have already expressed to my Vice Commander that you’re not interested in joining forces with me. But I also understand that there are people you care about, humans and angels and all manner of creatures you would like to keep safe. It would be so crass for me to resort to threatening those innocents, so I won’t. I will simply suggest that things will go much more smoothly as we work our way through this unfortunate hiccup, if only you would assist.”
“I don’t think I will.” I refused to ponder the consequences to Harbinger or Chana. This was much bigger than the well-being of either of my friends. I had to think of Heaven, and all those who’d pledged their loyalty to me.
What are we going to do with the Seraphim gone?
“Ah, well, in the end, I will be taking over the Source’s power.” Asorat tapped his chin. “After all, there are eight vacancies on the Council at this very moment, and we mustn’t leave such a void.”
“Eight?”
“You did notice my wings, did you not? Newly installed Praetor, at your service.” When he bowed, the cords of power running through them—Am I the only one who can see that?—pulsed. “I also don’t resort to bribery, but I will say that I’m not averse to doling out positions based on competence. Despite your unfortunate situation, you’ve proven yourself quite capable, perhaps more so than my some of current candidates. And I don’t discriminate on who or what you were previously, unlike my predecessors.”
“You are…” I couldn’t come up with a word.
“Handsome? Incorrigible? Powerful? Indeed, I’ve been called all those things and more.”
“A bore,” I said. “Who calls themselves ‘incorrigible’?” I had to figure out how to break free. A demon was standing in front of the door, so I wouldn’t be able to run for it, but that wasn’t the best way to escape—for an angel, anyway. I hadn’t the slightest idea how I would take back the Council’s power, but if Asorat hadn’t yet succeeded in transferring it entirely over to himself, I had hope. “Does that mean the Aleph is still alive?”
“That, my dear, is a question I cannot answer.” His thick eyebrows drew together. If his mere presence made me nervous before, Asorat angry made me quake inside.
Desperately, I reached out for somewhere—anywhere—Vycanus?—but here. As the room turned watery, Asorat’s hand clamped on my arm and I snapped back into the Comfort Ward.
“Oh, no,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re coming with me to help figure out what’s happening.”
He dragged me toward the door, and the other demon stepped deftly to the side. I had to watch for my next opportunity, but unfortunately, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get one. We took the long way through the Sanctuary—”Because I don’t want to accidentally lose my greatest asset as of late”—with a cadre of demons joining us outside to follow.
“What did he promise you?” I said over my shoulder as Asorat hauled me into the air to fly toward the Nexus. He pulled me off balance but I managed to keep myself upright.
Asorat answered. “They simply want to be on the winning side.”
Their lack of loyalty to Heaven disgusted me.
The beam of light had turned from its usual brilliant and soothing white to an ominous and crackling purple to match the lightning that had ravaged it before. Giant cracks snaked across the marble floor of the Nexus, splitting it into giant chunks, and the salt was haphazardly scattered here and there. A small pile of bags remained next to the shattered pillar, and pieces of the birthing bowl were strewn almost into the Orchestra.
We landed on one of the few pieces of intact marble. Heaven was still and silent, the clouds overhead dark.
“Where are all the Nephilim?”
“Your army thought their best chance was to aid the humans in their war, to steal away my power before I can figure out what the Aleph has done. That’s why we need to work quickly.”
“It’s not over?”
“You were only unconscious for about an hour. The invasion on Normandy beach has just begun. Heaven has evacuated, however. Very nice work orchestrating all that. Even with the Seraphim gone, it went quickly and efficiently.” His smile made me uncomfortable.
Are Chana and Harbinger safe? That was most certainly why he was looking at me with those intense, shifting, bronze-colored eyes. I couldn’t ask
about them—I couldn’t give my worry away.
“Do you feel it?” asked Asorat.
“Feel what?”
He clucked. “Little Cornerstone, you know so little of the potential you can unlock. Tip your head back and look up at the clouds. Stretch out your awareness. Be patient, watch, listen, feel. And then tell me what you see.”
His hand was still on my wrist.
“Let go,” I said.
He lifted an eyebrow.
“I won’t go anywhere.” As much as I hated making that promise, I wanted to find out everything I could about the situation I was faced with. I would cooperate with him—for now.
Asorat’s grip loosened and his hand fell away.
I tipped back my head. The clouds overhead were a deep purple, so different from the pastel pink shade from the thousands of years I’d been alive. The Source’s ubiquitous, all-encompassing presence stretched above us, though I didn’t feel it as strongly as I once had when I entered the Nexus. It was as It was when I was elsewhere and reached out to it: present, available, but unobtrusive.
Within the clouds, myriad bits of life flitted and danced. I stretched out my awareness to feel them, as he’d asked, but they were too quick and agile for me to tell what they were. Newborns yet to be birthed? The Seraphim and Nephilim that Asorat snuffed? Yasva? Voctic? Each was content, joyful, and slid around and through and over one another.
It was fascinating to watch.
“Now feel the energy that flows through us,” said Asorat.
I frowned, grasping at… what? Between myself and the Source stretched the cord of power I’d begun seeing. It was bronze, almost the same color as Asorat’s, and the thickness of my wrist. This power kept the Source’s presence ever-flowing through me and remaining in the back of my mind.
Demons were gathered on the next unmarred chunk of Nexus. Where their wings had once been were stubs. No column of power stretched up and into the clouds.
With confidence in my new ability to see the link between beings and the Source, I turned my attention to Asorat’s. The cords were much thicker than mine, and apparent within each were nine separate golden strands—the strands that before had belonged to each Seraphim. They were entwined to create one thick rope that reached up and into the sky. Though the rope was powerful, it wasn’t complete. Cracks, devoid of energy, rippled throughout, winding in and amongst all the strands. As Asorat shifted his stance, the entire cord wobbled, and the cracks expanded and contracted.
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