Before he could get any ideas about leaning down to kiss me—We’re fighting a war, Enael!—I said, “Rehniah became an Archangel because she wanted to oversee my growth, didn’t she?”
“Yes. After the unfortunate series of events that unfolded between us—”
“You mean, when you tried to kill me.”
“—she decided to take a direct role in your life.”
Things were falling into place. That was why I’d been a Guardian for so long. Rehniah—the Aleph—wanted to keep an eye on me, know what I was doing at all times, while she brought about this war ripping through Heaven and Earth.
“She knows my true name,” I said. “She could have had me under her control all along.”
“Could she have? Would the Source have allowed her to do that?”
“It’s allowed all this so far.” I didn’t try to hide my bitter tone.
“Ah, yes, but that’s because she’s walking a fine line between obeying and undermining It. She might be cold, but she’s an ancient being, and smarter than most of us combined.”
“And what about forcing me to become a demon?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.
“She couldn’t reveal herself. She has to do what the Council tells her, especially since they indulge her by allowing her direct access to their plans for history. She’s an Archangel and shouldn’t be involved, but she was previously a Seraph, so she’s regarded as an honorary Council member.”
“None of the Seraphim mentioned this.”
“And that surprises you because… ?” He shrugged. “Not everyone likes it, so she has to tread lightly. She has most of their true names, but she doesn’t have all of them.”
I frowned. “Had.”
“What?”
“She had their true names. Asorat killed them.”
That wiped the smirk off Voctic’s face. “He killed them?”
I relayed the battle in the Nexus, the columns of power he’d taken from them onto himself, and the cracks the Aleph had inserted to funnel off power to herself.
“You’re only telling me this now?” The good humor of a few moments ago was gone. “Why didn’t you say this sooner? We’re canoodling on the beach and the entire Council of Seraphim is dead!”
“I did.” I was about to start protesting but then I drew myself tall. “I told you that we didn’t have time for this, and you insisted on playing games.”
Voctic smoothed a hand over his chest. “You’re right. That’s my fault. I’m sorry. I suppose a little bit of Chana still lives in me. This whole thing was a game to her. All the fun with the big, powerful demons and angels. I didn’t realize how dire the situation was. I should have listened to you.”
I’d never heard him apologize before, and now he was doing it voluntarily and for recent behavior. “This is new to me, this true side of you, so I don’t really know what to say about it right now. I accept this apology—not the earlier one, not yet—but we need to stop dallying. We need to figure out what to do about Asorat and Rehniah.”
“Yes, well, that is the conundrum. I know how she’s managed to insert cracks in his power, but I don’t know how to stop it.”
“Am I going to have to drag every piece of information out of you?” I was beginning to get annoyed.
“No,” his face was sober, “I was just considering how to stop her. You see, she’s managed to undermine the very stronghold of Heaven on Earth.”
I gasped. “You don’t mean…?”
“Yes. All throughout Vycanus, she planted a symbol she managed to keep to herself. They’re buried within the foundations of the Temple, planted below dozens of trees, and sewn into the clothing of the Vycanums. Worse still, the more they pray, the more power she receives.”
“They just spent days fortifying themselves against demonic attack! And I had them continue to pray for the strength of their village!”
“You had no other choice. The village can’t fall to Asorat. We need their power to win the battle of Normandy. We’re stuck,” he said. “Stuck between Asorat and the Aleph.”
“So that’s what she’s been doing this whole time. Fortifying her power.”
“And stirring discord. She wants Asorat to drain Heaven’s resources. Who do you think encouraged the demons to run rampant over Earth? It was her. The Aleph.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That’s a very good question, Cornerstone. What are we going to do?”
All of Heaven had spent the month leading up to the invasion preparing. In the case of an evacuation, every human or angel, young or old, was directed to meet at designated locations in Antarctica. The Muses had worked nonstop to create buildings, visible only to those not embodied. The construction of so many fortifications in such a manner was unprecedented, but we were certain we needed to be prepared.
And we were right.
When the invasion commenced, everyone barricaded themselves inside Heaven’s buildings. When Asorat’s power shattered the Nexus, they evacuated.
I didn’t know what I’d find when I went to the rendezvous spot. “The War Room is located directly over the south pole.” I gripped Voctic’s arm. I began fading to Earth but then stopped. “Perhaps you should return as Chana. Rehniah is at the Normandy invasion, but you don’t want her to know you’re back. Our secret is our strength, at least until we devise a plan.”
“You’re right.”
He leaned forward to kiss me but I hesitated. The last time he’d done that, he was teasing me with seduction. I wasn’t sure I was ready to let down my guard.
He says he’s free of her influence. Let him prove it.
Our lips met. His kiss was possessive but respectful, gentle yet hungry. Before he pulled away, he flicked his tongue over my top lip, and then drew back, grinning. “Thank you.”
Steady, Enael, steady. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s stop all this frivolity until the war is over.” I even managed to make the last bit sound stern.
Voctic’s smirk turned into Chana’s as his features morphed. “I think I’ll stay tall,” she said. “Besides, I’ve grown wings and angels are taller than humans.”
“Turn them iridescent. Silver might suit Voctic, but I think Chana should have an Attendant’s color.”
They faded and lightened, glinting rainbows across a piece of driftwood on the beach. I threw my arm around her waist to fade to Earth. The sand turned watery, and the blinding whiteness of the southern continent materialized around us.
We hovered in the air, regarding the hundreds of buildings spreading below. Snow swirled around us, but a gust of wind blasted it away to reveal figures, both winged and not, scurrying between buildings. From the busyness, it appeared Heaven had evacuated safely.
“Come along.” I’d overseen construction of the makeshift Praetorium, containing the War Room, shared Nephil Archangel offices, and several meeting rooms. Engineers and humans continued Foresight Sessions in a complex off to the east, the Sanctuary had relocated to a sprawling building off to the west, and the humans were crammed into housing stretching hundreds of miles around the outer edges of the continent.
Conscious of my bronze wings, I pulled Chana through the War Room door. The room was low-ceilinged compared to the cavernous one in Heaven, and only three-quarters the size. Archangels clustered around a map, Nephilim stood in bunches, and Keepers, all wearing the same, worried look, scribbled in yellow-bound books at a table.
“Enael!” Zaponsla shouted from halfway across the room. She launched herself over the crowd and barely stopped before barreling into me, rocking me backward on my heels. “We didn’t know what happened to you! We thought you were captured by Asorat. And Chana! You’re our little butterfly now!” She threw her arms around our friend next.
“Er,” said Chana. “I’m a butterfly?”
I held in a chuckle. What would Zaponsla think if she knew this was Voctic? Chana caught my eye and smirked; we were thinking the same thing. Her smile should have given her away, b
ut we only see what we want to.
“I was captured by Asorat,” I explained, “but Chana here freed me. She’s become quite the little warrior.” Now I was the one smirking. Oh, yes, I liked referring to her diminutive state.
As Zaponsla extricated herself from both of us, other Archangels approached.
I didn’t see Rehniah. She was likely in Europe, overseeing her Guardians’ work.
Umiet, wearing a worried look, said, “What’s happening in Heaven? We’ve had no word from Heppeliam, Parsiel, anyone.”
I steadied myself, forcing a steady calm everyone would need. “Please, may I have your attention!” I addressed the entire room. Here we go. “Attention, please!”
The chatter lessened and all eyes turned toward me. How many of these Nephil have pledged themselves to me? How many of the Keepers? I have to be strong for them.
When the whispers died down, I said, “I bring bad news. There’s no easy way to say this, and I’m sorry that you’ve not received word earlier, but… Asorat has killed the entire Council of Seraphim.”
Shouts erupted.
“That’s not possible!” said Zaponsla.
“It is possible.” I spoke over the din. “Please, let me finish and I’ll try to explain. The spell he cast transferred the power of all nine to himself. When he completed it, he knocked them to the floor of the Nexus, and they were absorbed by the Source.”
That quieted them.
“We have to regroup.” Now was the time for me to flex the leadership skills I’d developed under the tutelage of Heppeliam and—reluctantly—Parsiel. “I need to know how the invasion is progressing, and how close to capturing Adolf’s stronghold we are. Then we can create a new plan. I need everyone’s full and complete commitment to winning this war. We’ve been thrown from Heaven, but we’re far from defeated.”
Murmurs, angry but supportive, rippled through the crowd.
“We absolutely must do everything we can to oppose Asorat,” I continued. “I have reason to believe that the Seraphim are not lost to us forever, but before we can restore them to life, we have to wrest Heaven back.”
Heads nodded, the murmurs grew louder.
“I’ll meet with the Archangels and we’ll discuss our plans. Thank you all for your commitment so far. I have no doubt we’re going to win.”
We would deal with the Aleph after Asorat had been defeated. One problem at a time. That was the way to win a war.
As clapping broke out, I held myself steady. The claps turned to cheers, and I forced myself to smile, refusing to give away how badly I wanted to run away and hide.
CHAPTER 45
“Enael and I will talk first, so I can fill her in on what’s happening,” said Zaponsla to the gathering after the cheering had died down. My façade of confidence wasn’t fooling her—not with my terror at being Heaven’s last hope leaking through our bond. Even Chana looked worried. “Continue with the battle planning and we’ll return shortly.”
The Archangels returned to the maps, and the hum from before struck up again.
“Let’s go to my office,” said Zaponsla. She led us through a door and down a hall. The buildings had been constructed simply, with right angles and white walls. We weren’t planning on staying long, and the Muses hadn’t bothered to hang even a single painting.
I’m the closest thing to a Seraph Heaven has right now. I can’t succumb to my worry. They’re counting on me.
My resolve lasted while Zaponsla held open the door to a room half the size of the offices in the Praetorium, ushered us in, and closed it behind us. Two desks faced one another, giving us just enough room to squeeze in, wings pressing against the walls.
All those angels had been looking at me with worry, frustration, and fear etched on their faces—and I was ill-equipped to lead them. What had I been thinking, insisting I be on equal footing with Seraphim? I was just a stupid, stupid Nephil, who’d gotten too far above her station.
Zaponsla started, “Enael, I know that—”
I burst into tears.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chana draped an arm around my shoulders. I started to curl into her neck—she was the exact height she’d been as Voctic, and it felt so right—but Zaponsla’s dropped mouth made me push her away. I suspected Zaponsla still wasn’t over the kiss Chana had foisted on me, and we didn’t need the complications that revealing her as Voctic would bring. Not right now.
I struggled to get myself under control. “I’m sorry, both of you. I’m overwhelmed. I just can’t believe all the Seraphim are gone. And now these bronze wings.” I sobbed. “Everyone expects me to have answers. They’ve all pledged themselves to me.”
Chana pulled back—not far, since the room was tiny—and Zaponsla put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed, but listen: you don’t have to have all the answers. That’s why I wanted to bring you in here. We need to talk about what’s going on.”
“What do you mean?”
Chana was still hovering as though she still wanted to take me into her arms, and I gave her a not now frown.
“The Archangels have the battle under control,” said Zaponsla. “D-Day was difficult, and we lost many lives. However, recent events have made all of us better at thinking on our feet. You can’t even believe how creative some of the Engineers are becoming with Incarnation Plans.”
“That’s excellent.”
“However…”
Of course there was a “however.” Why wouldn’t there be a “however?”
Zaponsla squinted and the scar on her face twisted. “I need you to see something. Come with me to France. The problem isn’t with the war, but with— Well, you’ll see.”
Reluctantly, I grabbed onto her elbow and Chana grabbed her other one. The room turned watery and faded into green. When we finished the transition, we were standing in a hedgerow, tall and poorly groomed.
“Watch,” instructed Zaponsla.
Past the closest hedge an Allied soldier crept along. His fear washed over me, and his Guardian searched to and fro, though for all the good it would do, I didn’t know. When he saw us, though, he sighed and relaxed.
But that was the exact wrong thing to do. He had no time to warn his human of the Nazi soldier jumping out of the next hedge with a knife. Before the Guardian could even open his mouth to greet us, the Nazi drew the blade across the Allied’s throat.
The Guardian fell to his knees, scrabbling in his Ward’s chest, presumably for the soul. He fumbled before grabbing hold and pulling. He stood, yanking the soul out of the body.
Chana spoke up, steel in her deepening voice. “Why is he being so—”
“Shhh!” hissed Zaponsla.
Three demons leapt from another bush. Two grabbed the Guardian by the arms, and the other snatched at the soul.
“Enough!” Chana leapt forward. “You there, stop!” She called a silver trident into her hand and whirled it above her head.
“Following orders,” grunted the demon holding the Guardian’s left arm.
“Give me the soul.” Chana held out her hand, her presence powerful. It reminded me of the strong, confident Archangel Voctic had been. I joined her on one side, Zaponsla on the other, impressed despite the tense situation.
No longer was Voctic acting complacent. In place of the angel who had run from a fight, he was stepping forward. He was finally able to act as the being he’d been born to become.
Even with our flapping wings and glares, the demons looked at one another, amusement evident.
“You heard her.” I called my own trident to hand.
“Fine, fine,” the one who was holding the soul said. “But you’ll have to catch it!”
He tossed it into the air. The other two let go of the Guardian, who fell to his knees. I’d never seen a soul thrown before—I was always careful with them—and it flowed like a fabric scarf, drifting through the air to alight gently on the ground. Chana knelt down to cup her hands over it protectively. The demons laughed and
ran off into the hedges.
“Thank you, Attendant, Archangel, Cornerstone.” The Guardian struggled to his feet. His human’s corpse lay in a pool of blood. “Thank you so much.”
“Take your human and go to the Antarctic Sanctuary,” said Zaponsla. “Then report to Rehniah that we were able to salvage him.”
At her name, Chana and I exchanged glances.
“As you wish. Thank you again.”
The Guardian disappeared with his human.
“Zaponsla,” Chana’s face was stormy, holding hints of Voctic’s on his worst days. “I can’t believe you were going to let them take that soul.”
“I wasn’t! I was about to intervene when you stepped forward.”
“It looked like you were just standing there watching.”
“Yes, but I—” Zaponsla stopped herself. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m a butterfly, remember?”
“Never mind all that,” I interrupted. “I’m sure she was going to stop him, but thank you for helping that poor soul, Chana. The important thing to focus on is: why is Asorat doing this?”
“Asorat? No. It’s Kaspen.”
My entire body tensed. “What?”
“Yes. A proclamation went out from the esteemed vice commander,” and her tone conveyed exactly how disgusted she was with him. “He wants their demons to gather up souls. That’s the only thing we could get out of any of them.”
An Attendant appeared in front of us. “Cornerstone! We need you in the War Room! We have a message from Kaspen.”
Oh no. “What does it say?”
“It says…” He fidgeted. “It says…”
“Out with it.” And then I was reminded of Asorat himself. I wouldn’t stoop so far as to punish the poor stammering Attendant, but time was wasting and we didn’t have time for dallying.
“It says that if you don’t come back and help Kaspen finish your assigned task, he’ll start sacrificing the humans to the Source, just as Asorat did with the Seraphim. And…”
“… and… ?”
Warring Angel Page 25