by James Somers
“Quiet!” Donatus boomed over the din of the crowd.
I looked down at him. He motioned for me to continue, as the crowd quieted again. He didn’t seem as angry now. I was thankful for that.
I noticed that Cole was standing by his grandfather’s side now. Donatus curled an arm around the boy’s shoulders. His grandfather was the only family left to him, but Cole would be fine, as long as we could all get out of this mess alive.
I continued quickly. “Even though we have been wronged in this situation, the last thing we want is more bloodshed! These soldiers have no desire for war and neither should we. Many of you know my faith. I cannot condone a war against Britain.
“However, what many of you did not know is that Oliver and I made preparations in places other than England. My wife and I inherited land in Ireland from Oliver. It is plentiful—a place where we can enjoy mild weather and build a place for ourselves, a new life. We will share this land with you, if you are willing to leave England peacefully today.”
There ensued much murmuring and discussion throughout the crowd. Many seemed amiable to my proposal, but there were some who still appeared to be bent on dissent. The soldiers watched, also, and waited to see what the consensus would be.
I made my last plea, hoping to appeal to the majority of families present. “Parents, what will you do? Will you risk the lives of your children today in a senseless war that will ultimately gain us nothing? Or will you follow me to a land ready to receive us and have peace for your families?”
Using the children may have seemed devious, but it was still the truth of the matter. I knew I didn’t want Sadie or Cole to be shot over gold and silver. The fact that we could produce anything we needed, only added to my resignation. Gold was cheap when you had Superomancey.
I looked back to Donatus standing with Cole and Laish. They watched the crowd and then looked up to me. I caught Donatus nodding approvingly. I was relieved when Laish winked at me, also.
The crowd began to sway more and more toward peace. Dissenters were being silenced by cooler heads throughout our encampment. They were ready to be done with this matter, even if it meant accepting this injustice from Gladstone. We were all tired and ready to move on.
“We will construct a portal that will convey us on our way,” I said. To the soldiers I said, “By morning, we will depart for Ireland. There will be no need for violence here. Go and tell your prime minister that we will give him no trouble today.”
They had no idea what a portal even was, or what I referred to when speaking of such things. But they did understand that we would have no uprising. The soldiers looked as relieved to hear it as I was to say it. No one in their right mind wanted war when it could be avoided.
I climbed down from the tree with a reasonable amount of grace to my movements. I was no vampire, or Lycan, but I was no slouch either. I had trained very hard to be a warrior over the years, though Superomancey remained my strongest asset.
Sophia and Sadie joined me immediately.
“The Leprechauns?” Sophia asked.
“Precisely,” I replied. “We can all start fresh there.”
“They’re ruffians, to say the least,” she said.
“I know, but what better place?” I asked. “Glamour was necessary to live in London. Surely, we’ll fare better in a land of mystery and magic than we ever could here.”
Sophia nodded, but she seemed unsure. “It won’t be Tidus.”
“Nothing ever could be,” I said. I hugged her tightly, including Sadie.
This wasn’t going to be an easy transition. I believed we all knew it. We had no choice. This was just the way it had to be. But we did have our faith and our God, and His grace would be sufficient.
Rivalry
Lucifer spotted Black sitting at a table at the outdoor café overlooking Hyde Park. He was still some distance away, but he realized Black would have sensed his nearness by now, though not his exact whereabouts. Still, he sipped his tea, pretending to read a newspaper when he was really watching the events unfolding in Hyde Park.
Lucifer flew invisible across a block of buildings and over the avenue, landing outside the wrought iron fence which separated the café from pedestrian traffic. He passed through the fence and several tables before coming to Black’s. His angelic sibling, safely secure in his Lycan host, did not look up.
“Beautiful weather we’re having,” Black said, still scanning his paper. “Won’t you join me? You look parched, Brother.”
“You’re too kind,” Lucifer said, sitting down. He remained invisible to the patrons around them.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the upset in the park,” Black commented, folding his paper down.
“It would be difficult not to notice your accomplishments, up to this point,” Lucifer said. “As you said, I was powerless to stop you.”
Black grinned, lifting his cup to his lips. “Come now, Brother, sarcasm doesn’t become you.”
“No sarcasm intended,” Lucifer said. “You managed to send Descendants into the Underworld. They were able to release the cherubim upon the spiritual lands. I have little doubt about the destruction the three have caused since that time. And here we find thousands of refugees in London from those devastated lands. I’ve spotted citizens of Xandrea, Tidus, Grim Hope and even Greystone all mingled together in that melting pot.”
Black waited for the punch line.
“I doubt I could have done it better myself,” Lucifer decided.
They sat in silence staring at one another. The crowd in Hyde Park was busy gathering their few possessions they had brought with them. An exodus was in preparation. The soldiers, ever vigilant, looked on, wondering if they might have the opportunity to shoot anyone today from among this rabble.
After a long moment, Lucifer said, “Of course, you realize how furious I am with you, Brother.”
“You would love to rip my heart out, I suppose?” Black posed.
“At the very least,” Lucifer replied coolly.
“Why don’t you then?”
“We all know better than that,” Lucifer answered. “You’ve taken a human host. I have no ability to touch you without divine permission. And while it is strange that He would not offer it, you see my dilemma.”
“Too bad,” Black said, smiling. “What will you do now? I can’t imagine you’ve given up.”
“What else would I do with my time?” Lucifer asked. “However, I won’t say. You would only seek to undo my plans, if you knew.”
“What else would I do with my time?” Black replied.
“Where are the Descendants off to now?” Lucifer asked.
“Apparently, Gladstone has seized all of their wealth, so they can’t stay here. Reparations or some such nonsense.”
“I wonder where he might have gotten such an idea,” Lucifer mused.
“I haven’t the foggiest. I heard West making speeches a moment ago. They intend to leave for Ireland this very day.” Black chuckled at the thought. “You could follow them, if you like?”
“Thank you, but no,” Lucifer said.
They sat together for a moment longer.
“Well, here’s to your health, Brother,” Black said, raising his cup of tea.
Lucifer gave him a wan smile. “I’ve nothing to toast with.”
“Then I’ll toast for us both,” he replied.
“Goodbye, Brother,” Lucifer said.
Black paused with his cup held before him. “Goodbye?”
Suddenly, the china cup shattered in Black’s hand, leaving only the porcelain handle between his fingers. His smile had disappeared just as suddenly. A swathe of crimson red cascaded across the front of Black’s white shirt from the bullet hole in his chest.
He started to smile again, but fell forward onto the table instead. Beside them, a couple noticed what had happened, though no one had heard the shot. It had come with little more than a whisper from the rifle of an Asian sharpshooter nearly three hundred meters away.
Everyone outside in the café searched for the source of his wound, since there had been no audible shot. But Black only laughed. He tried to speak, but it came out garbled.
Lucifer leaned forward, putting his ear near to Black’s mouth. “What’s that, Brother?” he asked delicately. “I couldn’t quite make it out, beyond you choking on your own blood.”
“You’ve always tried to best me,” Black rasped, the eyes of his host losing the light of life. “Poor Lucifer.”
Lucifer straightened in his chair and then stood. “I have bested you,” he said defiantly.
He walked away, leaving Black there to experience his last moments in the mortal world. Lucifer knew that, without his host, Black would be drawn back into Tartarus. Using Southresh’s new host, Toshima, had been a stroke of genius, if he did say so himself. Only mortals were free to kill mortals without permission from the Almighty. Something about their freedom to choose and then face judgment.
The crowd continued to search for the murderer. Policemen would soon arrive, but they would remain just as puzzled as the bystanders. Toshima, the assassin, had already disappeared by the power of the mad spirit indwelling his body. As for Lucifer, no one ever guessed he had been there at all.
Unwelcome
The next evening, after Klara’s mishap at the gravesite of Alois’s former wife, Alois was leaving the pub at his usual time. He had missed work that day, though he had not mentioned this to his children. The oldest, Gustav, had been left to look after the other two. Alois had told them that their mother was out on a very important errand.
“She should arrive home very soon,” Alois had said.
His children knew enough to accept whatever he told them without question. Questions made their father very angry. The last thing any of them wanted was to make their father very angry.
When Alois arrived in the street, he found a woman of exquisite beauty waiting for him. A young boy, not quite a teenager but healthy looking, stood with her. Despite his intoxication, Alois understood immediately who they were. Lucifer had been clear that they would come to him soon.
“You are Alois Hitler?” she asked.
“I am,” he confirmed.
“I am Anai,” she replied. “My son is Adolf.”
“Lucifer said to expect you. He also said you would pose as my wife.”
Immediately, Anai’s appearance changed. She now looked exactly like Klara. He was stunned by the accuracy of her glamour.
“You’ve never seen her. How did you do it?”
“My glamour feeds upon your memory,” Anai said. “It will work the same for your children. How many are there?”
“How many what?” he asked.
“Your children,” she said. “How many?”
“Three,” he said, still inspecting her appearance. “The resemblance is remarkable.”
She nodded. The boy said nothing. His eyes never left Alois’s face. Clearly, he had no fear of the man who would become his father in the human world.
Alois decided that he didn’t like this. His own children revered him dutifully. They never looked him in the eye. Otherwise, they learned the price of their haughtiness. He wondered briefly if he would have to teach this whelp that same lesson sometime soon.
He started toward his home. Anai followed with Adolf at her side. Alois noticed that they walked with no sound.
“Actually, it’s a shame,” he said. “You’re much more beautiful than Klara was.” He paused in the road to look back at her. “I would prefer to look at you as you are.”
Anai leveled her gaze on Alois, seizing his mind in an iron grip. He found that he could not move. Even his lips refused to obey his desire to protest.
“Let me make something quite clear, before we go any further,” Anai said. “I am not your wife. I will never belong to you. You will not linger upon me, or have thoughts about loving me.”
Alois reached down to his side where he kept a knife in a leather sheath. Quite beyond his own control, his hand retrieved the knife and brought it up to his own throat. The blade remained there, despite his inclination to remove it.
“If you attempt to harm me, or my son,” Anai continued, “I’ll see to it that you remove your own head, shortly thereafter.”
Alois swallowed against the gathering lump in his throat. His Adam’s apple grazed the sharp edge of his blade, as he did so. He did not have the ability to nod, so he blinked instead.
Anai released him.
His knife fell away immediately. Alois breathed hard, fearing for his life. What had Lucifer done to him? Who were these people to the angel that he would place them in his home, forcing him to murder his own wife for the privilege?
He looked away from her down the road toward home. Alois started walking again. They, in turn, followed after him.
When they reached his home, he went inside. The children met them at the door. Alois walked past them. They paid him little attention. It was their mother they were interested in seeing, anyway.
She was as lovely as they ever remembered seeing her. However, a strange boy was with her. He did not smile when he came through the door. They did not smile at him, either.
“Children,” she said sweetly. “I have a wonderful surprise for you. This is your cousin, Adolf. He is going to live with us now. His parents have perished in a fire. He will be your new brother.”
This lie they accepted with the same sweetness as it had been delivered unto them. Anai’s power over their minds was complete. However, they still had reservations about Adolf. He did not appear happy to be there. He did not look like he loved his new family, or that he wanted love from them in return. It would not take them long to understand how true that feeling had been.
* Preview Descendants Saga Book five
AFTERMATH – Releasing September 2013
Revival
Though his eyes had become fixed and dilated, there still remained the spark of life within Ishbe. The assassin’s bullet had eviscerated his heart, passing through his ascending aorta. Black had felt the pain—an interesting sensation that angels rarely experienced—and had succumbed to the numbing loss of strength and motor function as Ishbe’s chest cavity filled with blood.
This vessel would soon expire. His anchor to the mortal world hung by a mere thread. Technically speaking, Black would have been faced with a terrible dilemma, hopeless and helpless to do anything about his situation. Tartarus waited like a cat beside a mouse hole, ready to have him back in its clutches.
All these things would have been, except for the fact that Black had seen it coming. His long rivalry with Lucifer had taught him more than a few things about his brother. He never gave up. And Black had managed to stay a step or two ahead of him, recently spoiling his plans. Lucifer could be expected to take whatever measures were necessary to remove him out of the way.
Black’s only weakness had been his mortal host. Only a fool would refrain from taking advantage of this. And, though he hated him, Black knew that Lucifer was no fool.
Fortunately for Black, he had continued to look toward the future, taking advantage of the changing dynamic presented by the cherubim. He had arranged for them to be set loose, but he had not considered the possibility of merging with them until his previous talk with Lucifer, when his brother had threatened him. As an angel requiring permission to act against a human, he couldn’t do the job himself. But Black knew that Lucifer would find someone or some way to carry it out.
A bullet through the heart? Indeed.
Black had been waiting expectantly as he raised his Earl Gray tea in toast. He had known this would be Lucifer’s chance to do something, anything, if he intended to. As Lucifer
said goodbye, Black knew it was coming. The teacup shattering as the assassin’s bullet passed out of his chest and through the porcelain had been a nice touch—unintended, but dramatic nonetheless.
Truth be told, the whole event had been perfect. Lucifer, no doubt, expected him to be sucked back into the void of Tartarus. So, Black now had the same advantage as those who fake their own deaths. No one would be watching for him. He would be free to roam and develop his own plans. And, when he finally allowed himself to be known again, Lucifer would be that much more frustrated by his own incompetence.
This body is in need of repair, the cherubim said into Black’s thoughts.
Though he now shared one mind with the three cherubim, Black’s consciousness remained separate from their unusual singularity. He and they were different from one another. Their merger could only go so far. Fortunately, it was far enough. They had successfully anchored his soul to the mortal world.
This body is dead, he replied in thought to them.
The host spirit is separated, but we inhabit this form, they insisted. This body can be repaired.
The heart is eviscerated. The damage is catastrophic, he said in reply.
We will repair, was their answer.
Indeed, he thought.
Bystanders and policemen were presently moving his body where Ishbe had fallen forward, slumped over the table. The tile tabletop, as well as the front of his white shirt and black jacket, were smeared with a mixture of coagulating blood and Earl Gray tea. Lucifer’s assassin had done a grand job. Black made a mental note to find out who this mortal was so that he might pay him a special visit in the future.
The bullet had passed cleanly through his back, leaving little evidence as to what had happened. However, when the police pulled him back in his chair, the cause became immediately clear. “This man has been shot!” one of the policemen exclaimed.
Impressive powers of deduction, Black thought sarcastically.
At present, he did not have the ability to control this body. The cherubim had gone quiet after their proclamation. He could sense them putting power into play in an attempt to restore normal function to Ishbe’s body. He expected them to be entirely unsuccessful.