This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2016
A Kindle Scout selection
Amazon, the Amazon logo, Kindle Scout, and Kindle Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
Other Books by David Burnett
Those Children Are Ours
Once and Future Wife
To Fall in Love Again
The Handfasting
The Reunion
Contents
Council of the Archangels
Palace Garden
An Academic Discussion
The Challenge
The Debate
Rebellion
Expulsion from the City
Audience with Adonai
War in Heaven
Relegated to the Pit
Mistress of Hell
Gift of Fire
Cain and Abel
Ramael
Never Coming Back
Through the Portal
Other books by David Burnett
About the Author
Council of the Archangels
Adryel stood on the portico above the Great Gates, looking into Palace Square. The gates rose almost ten meters above the last step in the Grand Stairway and from her vantage point on the floor above, she could view the crowd that carpeted the open square and spilled onto the steps of the buildings on either side. Banners flew from the towers, trumpeters lined the palace steps, and soldiers stood at parade rest beside the gates, their polished, gold armor sparkling in the midday light.
A warm breeze drifted through the square and a deep blue, cloudless sky stretched overhead. The cold season had passed and, earlier that morning, she had seen flowers blooming in the palace garden. A perfect day.
The clock in the tower struck, and, as she watched, the procession of the archangels emerged from the tall, gray Chancery building. Led by the chancellor, himself, dressed in the silver robes of his office, it proceeded in a straight line toward the Grand Stairway. Swinging his verge—a long, black, silver-tipped staff—back and forth before him, the chancellor cleared a path for the eight archangels and their aides, all of whom followed in single file.
Uriel, president of the Council of the Archangels, wearing a golden robe trimmed in purple, led the group. Behind him strode Michael, commander of the army. He was accompanied by Ramael, his aide and second in command. Both wore robes of midnight blue. The red sash across Ramael’s chest identified him as the superintendent of the city’s guard, and, seeing Ramael, Adryel smiled. He looked quite handsome.
She started to raise her hand to wave, but thought better of it. He likely would not see her even if she did.
Lucifer, attired in his black academic gown, a reminder that he was dean of the Institute—the angelic college located in the southwest quadrant of Celestial City—strutted across the square as if he owned it, giving the impression that the others, archangels and spectators alike, were present simply because he tolerated them.
Adryel’s heart was pounding. Even though it had been a decade since she had witnessed the parade from the square itself, she could sense the excitement of those who were there today.
Gabriel was clothed in pure, glistening white. Adonai’s messenger, his movements were fluid and graceful, and he seemed to glide over the pavement rather than walk across it like the others. Raphael wore a green robe, Chamuel’s was pink, Jophiel’s, a pale yellow, and Zadkiel was attired in violet. The colors reminded Adryel of the wild flowers in the meadow she passed each morning as she left home.
The procession crept across the square, the archangels’ colorful robes contrasting vividly with the plain white ones of the ordinary angels who moved aside to allow them to pass. From her perch high above, Adryel imagined the line of archangels to be a multicolored caterpillar inching its way through the tufts of a fluffy white towel. She chuckled at the thought. She would have to remember to tell Ramael.
On this day the procession was for a specially convened meeting of the Council of the Archangels—the group that governed the city and the surrounding territories. No one in the square, including the archangels, knew the reason for the meeting, and gossip ran rampant throughout the city.
Adryel was the secretary of the council. She had been appointed when Lucifer was president, and had been confirmed by Uriel when he had taken office.
When she had laid the books, one at each archangel’s place around the table in the council chamber, and even after reading the title, A Plan of Creation, embossed on its cover, she still had no inkling of what the books contained. She found the title to be rather vague and uninformative, and she’d had the urge to peek inside. She was certain the guard, Dariel, one of Ramael’s lieutenants, had wanted to look too, but they both had refrained.
As the procession reached the middle of the square, the trumpeters raised their instruments, sounding the “March of the Archangels.” The captain of the guard gave the command, and his squadron snapped to attention, raising their hands in salute. As if on cue, the pennants flying from the towers of the palace fluttered as a gentle breeze blew through the square. Attendants swung open the Great Gates, and the crowd began to cheer.
One hundred steps fashioned from flawless white marble led up to the Great Gates, each a replica of the one before it, so that, from her position on the portico, it was difficult to tell where one ended and the next began. Light reflected from the smooth stone, much as it would from polished metal, and Adryel held up her right hand to shield her eyes, tracking the archangels as they left the square and began to ascend the stairway.
The procession began to pass between six pairs of golden candlesticks, each five meters high and spaced at intervals along the staircase. As they reached the third pair, the halfway point, they were lost to Adryel’s view, and she knew the archangels would arrive in the council chamber momentarily.
She hurried inside. Pitchers of water and goblets from which they could drink sat at each place, along with the books. Generally, paper and writing instruments were supplied, but not for this meeting, and the members of the council had been instructed to bring none with them. The only paper was at her place since she would make the official record of the meeting.
The chamber held an enormous wood table, set on a soft green rug that covered the marble floor. The table was round, reflective of how all members were equal and none took precedence over the others. The president’s job was simply to keep order and to make sure the council stayed on task.
The archangels’ favorite chairs surrounded the table. Most were simple armchairs with padded seats. Uriel’s, though, resembled a bench, with no back or arms. And Michael’s was missing just the left arm, so that it was not necessary for him to remove his sword when he sat.
Lucifer’s was massive, with thick armrests and an ornately carved high back. Some of the others joked that it resembled a throne, and, in private, they derisively referred to him as Lord Lucifer, the term of respect which angels used when speaking of an archangel, but which they would never otherwise use among themselves.
Each archangel was allowed an aide, and chairs for them had been placed against the wall behind each place. Adryel was the only one at the table who was not an archangel, and she sat beside the president.
As she checked the room a l
ast time, she realized that she had forgotten the gavel with which Uriel would keep order if the discussion became heated. Hurrying to a cabinet set in an alcove near the entrance, she rummaged through the books and papers that had been stuffed inside. She finally located the gavel at the bottom of a box of quill pens, and laid it at Uriel’s place.
BANG. . .BANG. . .BANG.
Adryel jumped as the chancellor’s staff pounded against the door, signaling that the archangels had arrived. Her stomach fluttered and she swallowed hard. Even though she had been appointed secretary of the council a number of years ago, she still felt overwhelmed each time she sat among Adonai’s closest and most trusted advisors. She stood beside her chair, motioning for Dariel to open the door. The archangels and their aides filed in, standing beside their chairs until everyone had arrived.
“Be seated.” Uriel rapped the table with his gavel. “The council is in session.”
The guard and the chancellor departed, the chancellor closing the door behind them. The screech of metal scraping metal as the bolt swung into place assured them it was secured—only those in the chamber were to be privy to the discussion that would ensue.
After the chancellor left, Adryel walked around the room, pushing on the door to confirm the room was secure. As she passed Ramael, her hand brushed across his arm and she gently squeezed his shoulder. He looked up and smiled.
They had been paired for almost a century now, which was a significant amount of time, but to Adryel it still felt new and exciting, as though only a few short weeks had passed. She knew the intensity of one’s feelings could change over time, but she doubted they would feel any differently about each other even after a millennium had passed.
“The council is in session,” Uriel repeated as Adryel took her seat. “Each of you will find a book on the table in front of you. As its title indicates, it contains a plan for creation of. . .well, we’ll see what is to be created. In any case, Adonai wishes to implement the plan, and he solicits your advice and counsel before he proceeds.”
“Should we not have received these some time ago so we could be familiar with the plan and be prepared to discuss it?” Lucifer snarled.
He was in a foul mood.
Adryel had studied under Lord Lucifer and she now was an instructor at the Institute, so she knew his moods well. As an angel, an archangel at that, Lord Lucifer typically suppressed the weak emotions with which he had been born, but he slipped on occasion, giving vent to anger. His slips had become increasingly common in recent years, his bad moods more forceful. She had learned it was best to avoid him at such times.
“The plan is not long, as you can see,” Uriel said. “We have plenty of time. We’ll read it now.”
Adryel counted the pages as Uriel thumbed through his copy. He was correct, only about twenty-five pages. Either the plan was not complicated, or it was not very detailed.
Thirty minutes passed, and the archangels began to close their books. Raphael’s arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were closed. Had it not been midday, Adryel might have supposed him to be asleep. Michael leaned over to whisper to Ramael. Then he reclined in his chair, his eyes seemingly fixed on the ornate carvings that decorated the dome above them, and he yawned.
Lucifer had been the first to finish reading. He sat straight in his chair, his body rigid, a frown spread across his face. He seemed to be glaring, first at Uriel, then at Michael. He absently played with a small wooden disk that he had taken from a pocket, turning it over and over in the palm of his hand. Adryel had observed that he frequently occupied himself in this manner when he felt angry but was trying to hide his feelings from others.
One by one, the others looked up. Finally, Chamuel raised his head.
Uriel cleared his throat. “Very interesting.”
“Interesting?” Lucifer raised his left eyebrow. “Balls of fire and chunks of rock hurtling through empty space. What were they called?”
Chamuel opened his book and scanned the first page. “Stars and planets.”
“Stars and planets. Yes.” Lucifer nodded. “And one of these planets will be special, populated by countless creatures, and these creatures will come in assorted shapes and sizes and abilities and colors and. . .”
He sighed, and Adryel smiled, having seen a similar reaction during a recent faculty meeting at the Institute when one of the teachers had droned on about the students’ inclination to dye their hair various colors, that week’s favorite being mint green. Unwilling to embarrass the teacher by telling him that no one else in the entire city cared a whit about the color of the students’ hair, Lord Lucifer had sighed repeatedly, rolled his eyes and, finally, buried his face in his hands while shaking his head.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed one more time, and then continued. “So. . .these creatures. . .some of them, of course, are like creatures that live here, the horses, for example. Others. . .well, I was rather taken by those called elephants, creatures with enormous ears and long, tube-like noses. . .but on the whole I actually found it all to be rather boring—boring and uninteresting and harmless—and I wondered why I was dragged away from more productive activities.” He paused as he looked around the table, making eye contact with each member of the council. “Except for one. . .small. . .item.”
He flipped toward the back of the book. “On the twenty-fourth page we find an extended discussion of one of these creatures, the one called human.” A look of distaste blanketed his features and his eyes narrowed. “I find the plan for this creature to be most disturbing.”
The other archangels exchanged puzzled glances.
Michael sat up and leaned forward, resting his forearm on the table. “Why so? It seems to me the humans will be little different from angels, little different from us.” He gestured around the table. “What disturbs you? The prospect of an equal, perhaps?” His quick half-smile indicated that his last question was a tease, but Lucifer did not seem to notice or take it as such.
“An equal? I hope you are joking. . .An equal? Bah!” Lucifer began to rise, but Gabriel placed a hand on his arm to restrain him.
“He’s teasing you, Lucifer. He’s only teasing.” He turned to Michael. “You know Lucifer doesn’t understand humor. Certainly not when he’s already upset. Please.”
“Of course.” Michael dipped his head apologetically. “What is the problem, Lucifer?”
He glared at Michael for a moment before continuing. “They are to have free will.”
“True.”
“They will be rational. They will be able to reason.”
Michael nodded.
“They will have emotions.”
“All true, Lucifer.”
“And those emotions will be unchecked.”
Maliel, Lucifer’s aide, chuckled. “They sound like orbs.”
Orb was a derogatory term that angels sometimes used for the powers—one of the nine types of beings that composed the host of heaven, angels and archangels being two of the others. While the word wasn’t forbidden, its use was frowned upon, conjuring up images of segregation and superiority.
“They should be so fortunate,” Adryel sniffed. She and Ramael were both powers, the only two in the room.
Lucifer glared at her. “The secretary knows better than to speak during council session.”
“As should your aide, Lord Lucifer.” Ramael was on his feet, his hand on his sword.
Michael reached out to restrain him. Maliel smirked as Ramael resumed his seat.
Michael cleared his throat and continued. “In any case, the human creatures will be like the host of heaven in all of these ways. It is true some of us do not express our emotions, but we have them, even so. I still see no problem.”
Lucifer’s finger ran down the page, stopping halfway. “The humans will have no predisposition to do what is good.”
Looks of confusion crossed the faces of several archangels and they began to speak in unison, their comments flying about the room.
�
�Where is that?”
“I didn’t see that.”
“Surely it’s a typo.”
Lucifer raised a hand to quiet the chatter. “In the fifth paragraph. . .The human creatures will be predisposed to do neither good nor evil,” he read, then gazed around the table.
“Our nature is to do good, but the humans will be different. Their nature will be. . .variable.” As he shrugged, indicating he could be no more specific, his eyes lit up, as if an idea had just occurred to him. An evil smile crossed his face. “Perhaps this will help.”
Lucifer reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew the wooden disk. “See this disk? On one side, there is an X. On the other, we find an O, a circle.”
He held it out for all to see. It was about an inch across, and he turned it to show a black circle inscribed on one side while the other side bore a large black X.
He flipped the disk into the air and it landed on the table, bouncing twice, ending with the side bearing the X facing up.
“Surely, Lucifer, you don’t mean. . .”
“I mean this. . .Suppose I were one of these human creatures.” He visibly shivered as he spoke. “Further suppose that I were to encounter a beautiful female. . .such as our secretary,” he nodded toward Adryel, “walking in the palace garden early in the evening.”
All eyes turned to her. She could feel her face growing warm and she dropped her eyes.
“I do not mean to embarrass her, but suppose I encountered her as I said. . .what might I do?” He paused, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. “Now, it is my nature to do good, so I would wish her a good evening. If I were human, though, with no such predisposition, what would determine my behavior?”
Michael began to reply, but seemed to change his mind. Zadkiel shrugged and shook his head, as if he could think of no strategy the human might use make such a decision. Gabriel pursed his lips and frowned as he considered the question.
Adryel was not certain that the others understood the problem, because the rest of them simply stared at the table, waiting for Lucifer to continue.
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