by A. J. Rand
By the time I was standing, I had also worked myself up to being good and pissed off. A lesson was one thing, but this was just plain cruel. I wasn’t sure I had a chance to fight this fight at full strength. Being this damaged wasn’t improving the odds. I turned to give Gabriel a solid dose of my temper, but he wasn’t there. I whipped around and then started searching the sky for his retreat. I didn’t see him there, either. That pissed me off even more. If I came out of this alive, I was going to track that arrogant Angel down and give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a good solid thumping. I wonder if there would be any heavenly repercussions for kicking the ass of an Archangel?
I finally settled down enough to focus on the task at hand. My head hurt and my ears were ringing. It took me a bit to figure out that the ringing wasn’t inside my head––it was coming from all around me. The devastation surrounding me was horrendous. I can’t even begin to describe the level of tragedy. Sirens, alarms, bells, screaming, crying––that was what was causing the ringing in my ears. I couldn’t even begin to take in all of the sounds at once, let alone sort them out.
Many authors throughout time have written of the pits of Hell, the crying, wailing, gnashing of teeth, the tragedy, and the sheer horror of it all. They didn’t even come close to describing this Hell on Earth. I went to step forward, toward the center of the devastation and stopped myself. The meeting with the strange Angel in the Garden came back to me. The fight I was about to walk into was not just about me and getting the job done, it was about this––all these people around me, their pain, their suffering, and how much more they would be experiencing if I didn’t succeed in what I needed to do.
The Angel was right, as much as I wanted to shut them out and head straight into the fray. I couldn’t let them become just numbers in a battle against the darkness. They were real. They were what this fight was all about. So I took the time––time for them. I opened my senses to the devastation, to their pain, their terror, their sorrow and their confusion. For the first time in my life, I let myself feel from others what I never took the time to feel for myself––what it truly meant to be helpless, what it truly meant to be human.
It almost took me to my knees. I staggered back, blasted by the overwhelming waves of emotion that struck me, battering against my senses. And it overrode every ounce of determination I had. How could I fight the fight? I wasn’t prepared. I was nothing. The fear wrapped around me, tightened down by the sorrow. I couldn’t do this. What was I thinking?
Part of me already fought. It fought a losing battle against the overpowering despair of my own mortality, of my own humanity. I wanted to drop to the ground here and now and curl up into a little ball. I couldn’t fight this battle. I didn’t have the strength.
I tried to lock out the emotions, to shut off what I had turned on inside of me. But it was more powerful than I was, so instead I gave into the feeling. Closing my eyes, I let the tears of desolation stream down my face. I shivered in uncontrollable fear. I let it all come in, wash over me, take me deeper into the abyss that I knew I could never climb out of on my own.
But I didn’t have to. Another feeling rose through the massive waves of fear. It was surrounded by fear, but it had strength at its core, determination. I clung to that feeling, following it where it would take me. It didn’t only come from one source. It came from many. I gathered each one as I found them, pulled them together into a unifying whole to battle the waves of darkness.
There was a common thread running through them all. The fear was there, as strong as what I felt from all the others. But there was a determination, too, a struggle to fight for as many lives as could be saved. The fear was there for their personal safety, but riding the wave in top of that fear, overshadowing it, was the fear for the safety of others. It wasn’t because they had to save others. It wasn’t because a demand was there to put the lives of others before their own. It wasn’t even because they consciously thought about what they were doing. They just did what needed to be done without thought, with only a driving need to do what was right.
These were the true angels, the best of humanity brought out in the midst of adversity. No higher being could touch the selflessness of humanity when it struggled to tip the balance of light back against the darkness. This was what free will and the true experience of humanity was all about. It warmed me, and I drew on it. They were fighting the fight, knowing the odds were against them. That was the same fight I needed to take to the doorstep of the Abyss itself. And I was ready now to do it, no matter what the end. This fight wasn’t for me. It was for them. How could I show any less dedication to the salvation of as many lives as I could save from what was to come?
I filtered the emotions out, all except those that gave me the strength to see me through. Then I reached out with a different set of senses, feeling, probing, and searching for––there it was. It was a small feeling, but one enough for me to go on. I could feel the heart of the darkness. It touched me at the core, but I closed off the feelings of strength from its contact. That strength was for those who deserved it. No one else could be allowed to take that from them.
The feeling came from below the pile of devastation. Both buildings had crumbled into piles of burning rubble. The fighters, those who had the strength to make a difference were helping those without strength of their own to get away. Some went into the piles of debris to drag others out. Some went in and never came back. They knew the risk, and took it anyway. Now it was my turn to do the same.
I wouldn’t be able to get to where I needed to go from where I was at now. Walking into those downed buildings was not an option. I looked around for another access and found it in the subway tunnels that ran under the city. It would be the only way in, if they weren’t already blocked to allow me passage.
I walked to the nearest access point and stopped before heading inside. I spared a last single look for the devastation behind me. In the clouds of smoke that poured upward into the sky, I saw a face looking down. His wings spread out behind him, the Archangel Gabriel looked at me and smiled. It was a grim smile, but one meant to offer encouragement. I’d have to explain to him about bedside manners if I got the chance when this was all through.
Then it was down into the darkness for me. It wasn’t as dark as I first thought it would be. The burning embers from crumpled structure blazed to life in various stages throughout my descent. The air burned my lungs. It was thick, acrid, and bitter to the taste. My eyes stung, too, the dust trying to settle in and take hold of my vision. When I reached the bottom, I wasn’t sure what to do next. So many ways were blocked by fallen debris. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea?
I stepped over beams and concrete, working my way to the subway tracks. Looking down the dark tunnel I could see that it, too, was almost completely blocked. A light flared, another fire coming to life. It showed me the way, a small space, barely large enough for a person to get through, became visible in the dancing shadows cast by the light of the flame. I hopped down onto the tracks. A rumble shook the ground, another explosion going off somewhere above. Showers of dust, debris and chunks of stone crashed down around me, but none of them connected. I was lucky, or maybe some Guardian Angel was watching over me. Not likely. I’m guessing luck.
When the rumbling settled, I could see that the opening was still there, calling to me. I still had my senses open, and I followed the call further into the darkness. I’m not sure how long I walked before I came to a dead end. I looked at the wall of a crumpled building in front of me, hoping to see a way through, as I had before. Now what?
Another light caught my eye, this time to my right. It was a passageway, barely discernible in the darkness, but it showed me the way past the blockage. And the call was getting stronger with each step that I took. This tunnel was different than that of the subway. It was sculpted, not natural by any means. I’m betting that it was created eons ago and that I was probably the first human to set eyes on it since. Well, maybe not. Ke was in human form
now––did that count?
The passage wound its way down into the darkness. It had held against the destruction above, and was lit with some kind of glow. I couldn’t find the source of the light, but it reminded me vaguely of the indigo blue of the Crystal City. Maybe it had the same power source. I followed the sloped tunnel down, feeling the pull of the heart of the darkness reaching out to me. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, I don’t know, but it was taking me to the place where I needed to be and that’s all I had time to think about right now.
When I reached the bottom, the passage opened into a huge, dark, cavernous chamber. Best guess? I had reached my destination. The walls were of large cut stone, neatly built into a solid space to hold the earth above from crashing down and burying the opening. Ancient symbols adorned those walls, in glittering silver and gold. I thought I recognized some of them, but others were totally alien. It was the archeological find of the century––perhaps in recorded history. But that’s not what I was here for.
Against one wall, at the far end of the room from where I stood, there was a Gate, much like the Thirteenth Gate of the Crystal City. The site of it made my throat close, and I found myself fighting for air. Where the Thirteenth Gate was a frame if interweaving, moving colors, this was pure black. It still moved, but it was more the roiling movement of an oil slick. The surface was the same. Unlike the flat, mirror-like surface of the Gate I knew in the Crystal City, this one matched the frame, the thick darkness oozing first one way and then the next, constantly flowing.
And in front of the Gate was Ke. He had his back to me, staring at the surface of the Gate as though mesmerized by the shifting patterns of blackness. I saw his head tilt, listening for the sounds in the room. He knew I was here.
“I wasn’t sure whether or not you would come.”
I took the last step down to the flat floor and started a slow walk toward the Gate. “You knew that I would.”
“Have you made your decision, then?” He turned to face me. I think he wanted to see the expression on my face when I gave him the answer. I know that’s what I’d be looking for if our positions were reversed.
I shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
He was staring at me, but it wasn’t to gauge my response. A look of surprise, maybe even shock was what I saw in his eyes.
“You’re an Angel.” He whispered.
That pissed me off. The Thrones were right. He was only playing games with me. As raw as my emotional state was right now, I couldn’t deal with it.
“Cut the crap, Ke. I know what you’ve been trying to do, and it isn’t going to work. I––”
He shook his head, pointing behind me. “No, Yeshua. You have wings. How––?”
That stopped me. Wings? I turned my head to look behind me, twisting my body to get a better look. He was right. I did have wings. How the hell did that happen?
Chapter 27
The wings folded behind me, tucked out of the way. They weren’t the feathery wings of the angels, or even the butterfly wings that the cherubs had. These wings, though perfectly formed, were made of light. A dim glow emanated from the surface, casting the area around me into the shadow of an indigo light. It wasn’t a light source from the Crystal City that followed me through the tunnels on my way down here––it had been my wings.
They were translucent to the point of not even seeming real. I reached out and stroked the surface of the left one. It was real all right, but it had an odd feel to it, soft but almost spongy. Huh. Gabriel hadn’t caused that spectacular mess of a landing upstairs. It was my fault. A cold wave of thought washed through me. What would have happened if–?
I shook the thought away. I’d had enough of the shoulda, woulda, couldas. It was time for action. A movement caught my attention. Ke was moving closer. Another thought jumped to mind. Here was a guy used to seeing angelic wings. Heck, he had a set of his own. So why was he so mesmerized by mine? How was I going to be able to go back to living among my own kind? I’m thinking these things would sort of stand out at a coffee house or grocery store.
Did that mean I had to live with the angels in the Crystal City? Shit. That was not on my agenda. Was I still human? I didn’t feel any different. These wings were going to get me in a lot of trouble. Could I make them go away? As though on cue, I could feel a shifting at my shoulders. I turned just in time to see the indigo blue surface folding down into my back. I moved my shoulders, testing a little. They were still there, but were hidden from view. Cool. That could be handy.
Now it was time to deal with the other angelic issue confronting me. Ke had his hand out in front of him, as though to reach out and touch me. I took a step back, shaking my head.
“What? So now that I have an extra pair of appendages, you decide it’s all right for you to touch me? Uh-uh. It doesn’t work that way, angel boy.”
Ke dropped his hand, looking confused. “No––I––” He stopped, shaking his head. “It is not like that.”
“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows pointedly. “And how is it like? Answer me this––is your eyes, is it now okay for us to be together?”
Men were pretty dense sometimes when it came to women. Angelic males were obviously more so. He didn’t catch the warning tone in my voice. Not my fault, I was giving him every opportunity. His own words buried him.
“Of course it would be okay––as long as you are of the angelic realm again, there is no taboo.”
“Wrong answer, Ke.”
I shook my head, seemingly to argue his words. For me it was a clearing action, trying to make the hurt go away. My eyes burned, but it wasn’t from the dust any more. Damn it. I wasn’t going to cry. This guy certainly wasn’t worth it.
Ke looked confused. He really didn’t get it.
“Yeshua––”
My eyes closed, to block out the sight of him. “You have become a lot more human than you realize Ke. And to top it all off, you managed to latch onto one of the ugliest of human emotions as far as I’m concerned––prejudice. All of you angels seem to be guilty of it.”
He was frowning. “I am not prejudiced––”
“Really? You would take me now that you feel I meet your standards. But you wouldn’t touch me before––I wasn’t worthy in your eyes.”
“Worthy?” Ke’s voice held a bitter laugh. “You do not understand at all, do you? Angels may live in the higher realms away from all the dregs of darkness that humans have to deal with, but it is not because the humans are not worthy. It is because the angels are less than humanity in many ways.”
Okay. That caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Humans are the ones with the hard job, Yeshua. They have to not only deal with the darkness on a continual basis, they have to fight it and survive amidst overwhelming odds, and they do almost every time.”
I thought about the people on the surface, those ones whose strength called to me and gave me the courage to face my own ordeal.
“Angels are not equipped to deal with the darkness. That is why Adam and Eve were created. There is always a balance. Darkness and light. It has to stay in balance, without one side taking over the other. If either side takes a stronger hold, the pattern begins to unravel. When Lucifer gave Eve the knowledge, it gave humans the upper hand. They understood both darkness and light. Angels do not have that understanding.”
“So you are on the side of Lucien, then?” I was getting confused.
“No. I am on the side of balance.” He stopped, shaking his head. “I do not know how to make you understand, Yeshua. I only do what has to be done.”
Ke turned away from me and started toward the Obsidian Gate that led to the pit of the Abyss. I was way too confused to deal with this. But when Ke reached the short set of stairs leading to the surface of the Gate, I had to do something to buy me more time to sort through it all. So I did what humans did best in the face of adversity. I panicked.
“No!” The shout came and I reached out my hand.
Vi
olet light shot from my fingers and hit Ke, knocking him away from the Gate. I stared at my hand as though it were an alien thing. I felt a warming on my chest. It was the amulet Marduk had activated on my behalf. What had he said–? This will only help to bring to the surface that which you need to know. I guess I’d needed to know that. There wasn’t going to be any warning with this thing, was there? It was handy, but I could see it being a dangerous bit of help.
Ke was picking himself up off the floor. He seemed as surprised as I was. But he also held a look of resolution. His eyes were dark with warning.
“Do not make me fight you, Yeshua.”
“Then back off, Ke.”
I didn’t want to fight him. I wasn’t sure if I could pull that trick out of the hat again. Pressing my luck did not seem to be the best way to proceed. It didn’t seem as though he were going to give me a choice. He started toward the Gate again.
I flung out my hand again and the violet energy surged outward, flying toward Ke. At the last instant, he turned. Blue energy flared from his hand, hitting my violet ball and ricocheted it back toward me. It caught me totally by surprise, flinging me back to hit the stone wall. My eyes widened in a mixture of pain and shock. That hurt. It also meant the kid gloves had come off. The fight had begun.
Another blast of violet energy headed his way, a line this time instead of a ball. Ke was lifted from the floor to hang, suspended in the center of the room. Well, that was a new one. He recovered quicker than I did from the shock.
A blast of blue energy surged like feedback down the glowing violet line. I saw it coming, but didn’t know how to stop it. I guess the amulet had a mind of its own as to what I did and did not need to know. The blue energy contacted my body, breaking the connection and sending me staggering for balance. Ke dropped to the floor. I saw him wince. Good. He was feeling a little pain, too.