by M. R. Forbes
I moved up the edge of the trailer, dropping to my stomach and peering through the opening. I was almost at eye level with Adam and Matthias, standing less than ten feet away. I could see one of the Fists standing to his right, clutching a demon by the shoulders, one of its large hands over the fiend's mouth. He was wiggling and squirming beneath the machine's grip. It was a waste of time.
"You got me another unit," Matthias said, his eyes lighting up.
I noticed he was looking at the demon.
"Yes, and I should have the rest by tomorrow. I wanted to bring this one by and make sure the outputs were compatible."
"Let's bring it inside so we can test it. Gretchen is going to be so excited."
Matthias led Adam into the sanctuary. The Fist holding the demon followed behind, while the others moved into an organized line and went still.
Another unit? Compatible outputs? I slid back to my feet. Could it mean what I thought it meant?
There was only one way to find out.
I eased out of the trailer, dropping to the ground and rolling back below it, hiding behind the wheels. I watched the Fists for a few seconds, making sure they wouldn't react, and then circled around towards the side of the sanctuary, keeping an eye out for the angels that had delivered them.
My path was clear.
I looked up, finding the balcony where the archangel had been standing. She was gone. I pushed out with my power, throwing myself upwards and landing softly.
The upper floor of the sanctuary had been claimed by the archangel. Beyond the balcony was another ten feet or so of bamboo flooring that vanished at the central sky well, which tumbled down to the altar. Resting on the floor was a red woven mat, threadbare on the sides where the knees would rest, as well as a quill and a bottle of ink. Pages and pages of parchment sat alongside it, some of them blank, many of them written on, and many more written on, crumpled, and tossed aside. Hanging from the walls was even more scripture. It was black ink, and it didn't glow. Prayers.
I inched my way over to one of the balled up pages and picked it up. It was scripture. Like a composer writing a song, she was trying to create new bindings of power, to go beyond what she and Matthias had already accomplished with the Fists, or the holy hand grenade that had leveled the warehouse in San Francisco.
"Matthias, you're supposed to tell me when you're stepping outside." It was the first time I heard her voice. It echoed in my mind, resonating through my soul. It was more than beautiful. It was disarming.
"You weren't here," Matthias said. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be my assistant?"
She laughed. It was a melody that burned me. "Yes, and you need someone to keep an eye on you. How many times have you wandered off when you were supposed to be working?"
"I get bored."
"You don't have time to be bored now."
I walked over to the edge of the well and looked down. The archangel was standing near the altar, looking back towards Matthias. There was the sound of castors on the stone floor, and then one of the lifeless Fists rolled into view. Adam placed it to the left of the altar, leaving it hanging from its rack.
"They made some modifications to the power supply," the archangel said. "You may need to adjust the thresholds so we don't overload the circuits."
"Okay."
I waited a few heartbeats, until Matthias came into view. He went around to the rear of the armor and plugged a pair of wires into its back. He was cradling a laptop in his arms.
"Whenever you're ready," he said.
"Adam," the archangel said.
There was some rustling, and the angel appeared, holding the demon in his arms. They had done something to him to knock him out. Adam carried him to the altar and placed him on it, ripping off his shirt and exposing a scarred chest.
I sucked in a deep breath, my heart hanging as everything started to become clear. Alichino had said the scripture on the inside was to keep something contained, and now I knew what. Unlike the angels, the Fists were able to attack without provocation. It wasn't some special grant from God that made it happen, it was because they were demons. At least, they were powered by the souls of demons. It was the communication system that controlled them, the cloud-based brain that separated the angels from the machines. It was a loophole. A damn hack.
Something hit me in the head.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
It came up from the second floor, down and across from me, smacking into my ear and flying off to the left. It clinked on the ground behind me, not loud enough to be heard below.
The strike took me by surprise, and I fought against my instincts in order to stay still and not reveal myself unless there was a true danger. If Adam or the archangel had seen me, they would have used more than a pebble to attack.
I shifted my eyes in the general direction of the small stone's origin, down to a wall that obscured part of the lower floor. Peeking out from behind it was Gervais.
He was giving me the finger and smiling.
I should have expected as much. The angels had probably locked them in a room or something and forgotten about them, thinking they were just your run of the mill human beings, and of course the fiend had gotten them out. It wasn't only the demons who were capable of miscalculation.
He lowered his finger, and then pointed down below and shook his head. He brought his fist into his hand, suggesting an attack.
I shook my head in return. An archangel, the First Inquisitor, and six Fists of God against the three of us. It was straight up suicide. The only thing we had in our favor was the element of surprise.
He pointed up to me, flapped his hands like wings, and drew a line across his throat. Then he pointed at himself and then made glasses on his face, symbolizing Matthias.
I looked down below. The archangel was leaning over the demon on the altar. She had a small inkwell in her hand, and she was dipping her finger in it and then drawing scripture on the fiend's chest. He was still out cold, with no idea what was about to happen to him.
I pointed at Gervais, back at myself, and then held up three fingers. Where the hell was Rose?
He motioned to the other side of the well, directly beneath me. I tilted my head, and saw the hand rising up out of the shadows, giving me a thumbs up.
By the time I looked back, the demon was already on his way down.
I had half a second to make the choice. It didn't seem like a long time, but a lot of thoughts could flash through the mind in that small space. Should I follow him down, or leave him to die? I didn't care at all for his future, but I did care about what he knew, and I did care if Rose got screwed because of his stupidity. Then again, if I died here and now on some overly impulsive, ill-conceived attack, it was the whole world that would wind up paying for it. If I let it happen, there would still be the Fists. There would still be the archangel. There would still be Adam. Was it going to get easier to stop it later? It wasn't much of a chance, but what if it was the best chance I ever got?
I pushed, sending myself sliding off the edge of the balcony, falling headlong towards the archangel. I pulled, bringing the jagged dagger to my hand. I saw Gervais hit the ground beside Matthias, wrenching the laptop from his hand and putting his knife to the engineer's throat. The action startled the archangel, causing her to stand up and turn towards him.
I pushed again, outward, using the upward force to turn myself over and land on the altar with a light splash, my legs spread to either side of the demon, my body crouched low. I grabbed the archangel by the hair, pulling her head back and putting the dagger to her throat.
Time stopped. I could feel my breath as though it was a stream of energy flowing into my mouth and down my throat. I could hear my heart beat, a solid thump that echoed and vibrated in the stillness of the moment. I was bathed in the light of Heaven, dropping into this world from that one, or maybe rising up. It was cool and peaceful and seductive. It made promises to my soul, of rest and hope and joy. I could sense every strand of hair I was holding,
soft and firm in my hand. I could see the long, pale neck of the archangel, and the grimy, speckled matte of the weapon I was threatening to kill her with.
It was a struggle not to let go. It was a struggle not to fall into a heap and bawl like a child, or beg for forgiveness. This was the promise I had made. The responsibility I had accepted.
"Stop," I said, pushing the knife into her throat, tight enough that a deep enough breath would cut in, deliver the poison, and end her existence.
"Mr. Landon?" Matthias said. "What's happening?" He was standing completely still, Gervais' weapon against his throat. He wasn't scared or upset, just confused.
"Landon-" Adam was six feet away, the runes on his arm glowing.
"Don't," I said. "I know how it works. Keep it still."
His arm went to his side.
"Diuscrucis," the archangel whispered. "Please. You don't know what you're doing. Let me go, and we can talk about it."
There was power in her voice. I could feel it slamming against me, the pressure of her Calming words. I pushed back with my own power, balancing it out, preventing the words from swaying me.
"Not another word," I said. I glanced up to the second floor, checking for Rose, wondering why she hadn't dropped after us. She was there in the shadows, out of sight. Was she staying out of this one? I couldn't blame her if she was.
"Landon. You can't get out of this. There are five more of the Fists waiting outside. Even if you kill Matthias. Even if you kill Margaret."
"How can you do this?" I said. "How can you think this is right?"
"The Lord allows-"
"Bullshit! Your arm. The Fists. You're using demons. There's no way God is supporting you. There's no way this is anything but a cheat." My eyes found his, burning into them. "Of all of the seraphim, I can't believe that you're going along with this."
His face tightened as his anger grew. "You of all people think that you can judge me, judge my actions? You're a slave to your duty. I'm a conduit to mine. I do what I must to protect what I believe in. It doesn't matter if I respect you. It doesn't matter if we were friends. Ultimately, you're an enemy of Heaven, an enemy of God."
"And that means that you can bend and twist the rules however you see fit? What do you believe He would think about breaking His laws to win? Or do you think because she is here, that makes it okay?" I held the archangel a little tighter. "What are you doing here, anyway? Do you know what would happen if the demons knew you were on Earth?"
"They will never know. I travel only from the factory to the sanctuary, to aid in the production of the Heavenly Weapons, the tools of our victory. Of all the archangels in Heaven, I alone have accumulated the knowledge and skill to create the new scripture. I alone have harnessed the blessing of the Lord to turn evil to good, to use chaos to create order. If that is not God's will, then why do I exist?"
"Why are you guys fighting about the fogs?" Matthias said. "I thought the budget was approved?"
"Even the seraphim have free will," I replied, ignoring Matthias. "You have pursued the path of scripture, have come into your own power. He will not stop you. That doesn't mean He will always support you."
I felt her throat move and clench beneath my blade. "Don't pretend to have the slightest feel of His desires, diuscrucis. You are worse than any demon. You don't champion mankind, you prevent them from rising and being with their Creator."
I held steady, returning my attention to Adam. "Adam, think about this. She's leading you down a path you don't want to travel. You may get your wish. You may kill me today. At what cost? At what price? The victory of angels on the backs of demons."
"A victory is a victory. I learned that from you, and your battles. 'Find a way to destroy the diuscrucis.' That is what they said to me, Landon. That is my command. You know well enough not to attack first. You don't have the demons' blind hatred to slip you up. There was no other way. There is no other way. If I fall, I fall in His service."
My heart was pounding, my hands were sweaty. I could feel the coldness of my grip on the dagger, the clammy moisture tight against the hilt. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was no other way for the angels to come after me. It wouldn't be the first time God required sacrifice to meet his will.
"Kill me, diuscrucis," Margaret said. "Kill me, if you can. Kill me if your heart is so filled with evil and hate that you can bring the end to one who has served in the name of good for centuries. I am secure in my place in His universe. Are you?"
Her words carried power. I felt it wash against me, a rough sea against a rocky shore. I tightened my grip on the dagger, beginning to feel dizzy. I had told Rose that what made us strong was our unpredictability, our strength of emotions. Even though the seraphim had once been mortal, they were qualities that were easy to forget in service to Heaven. They were qualities that were easy for any Divine to forget, as the Beast had.
She had miscalculated me. She had underestimated who and what I was.
"Yes," I said, running the blade across her flesh.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
She didn't scream. The poison spread through her like a bolt of lightning, turning her entire face and chest dark, turning her hair white, the feathers dropping from her folded wings and floating to the ground as dried out husks. She didn't even have time to bleed.
Her ash dropped to the base of the altar in front of me, mixing with the water there and quickly turning it an inky black. I dove towards Adam even as he backed away, raising his hand, the scripture glowing as the commands were sent.
I was less than a foot from him when the Fist slammed into me, driving me sideways and into, and then through, the flimsy paper walls of the sanctuary. I tumbled on the wet ground, rolling and getting to my feet. I looked back towards the altar, feeling my anger double as I watched Gervais' dagger sink into Matthias Zheng's chest.
"No!" I shouted, pushing out, throwing him away from the engineer. Of all of us there, Matthias was the only one that was completely innocent. He was the only one who didn't know what he was doing.
I was too late. He fell to the ground, clutching at his stomach, the dagger still protruding from it.
It was all I got to see, because the Fist hit me again, its blade sinking deep into my gut. It used it to lift me from the ground, holding me above its head and drawing back its other arm, ready to decapitate me.
I could see Adam behind it, wings out and headed into the sky. His face was grim, his eyes cloudy with tears. In that face, I could see that Margaret was more than his superior.
Sharp echoes rippled across the night, blinding flashes launching from the balcony to my left. The Fist's elbow shattered as dozens of bullets pounded into it, ripping the delicate joint apart and forcing it to drop me. I slid off the end of the blade, choking on my blood, forcing my energy into the wound to heal it. The Fist turned towards the balcony, launching its bolts at the shooter, and I saw Rose drop, land on the ground and roll to her feet. She had a rifle cradled in her arms, and she turned it and continued to fire, the bullets doing nothing to the thicker chest armor, but keeping its attention fixed on her and giving me time to get to my feet.
The ground began to shake.
The rest of the Fists were active. I didn't need to see them to know it.
I felt a breeze behind me, turned and caught the arm of an angel before he could bring his blade around and into my skull. I twisted, breaking the arm, and then brought the dagger around, shoving it up into his chest and watching him fall to ash in my grip. Another landed in front of me, and a bullet caught her in the head, knocking her backwards.
I pushed, throwing myself back and away, avoiding the reach of the one-armed Fist. It didn't fire its bolts at me, turning back towards Rose instead. She dropped the gun and ran, disappearing around the corner of the sanctuary, opposite the other Fists.
I landed on a rooftop, scanning the sky for Adam. The only way to stop them was to break the link. The only way to break the link was to destroy his arm.
Two more angels
landed on either side of me, launching their attacks in unison. I blocked the angel on the left with the dagger, leaning back to avoid the sword of the one on the right. At the same time, I saw the flashes from the Fists, and heard the screaming of the bolts.
I couldn't manage all of it at once. I dropped from my feet, sliding down the side of the rooftop, even as I caught the bolts and threw them into the angels, impaling them and sending them off the roof in the other direction. I slipped from the decline and landed on the ground, right next to Elyse.
"I thought we were going for stealth. What the hell are you doing?" She had dropped the glamour, and she held the spatha in hand. There was blood on it.
"Making mischief," I said, gritting my teeth and pushing, sending myself hurtling towards the one-armed fist. It tried to block me, but it wasn't as strong with a missing appendage. I barreled into it, continuing the push, using the force to send it backwards, feet dragging along the ground until it finally fell back and into the others. I rolled forward off of it, forcing the Fists to turn around to track me. The one thing I had over them was speed, and I needed it.
I pushed off again, going high into the air towards the top balcony of the sanctuary. I saw Elyse squaring off against an angel, one of the bracelets on her arm flaring red as it caught a sword strike, and the spatha coming up and around and digging deep into the seraph's arm. The wound didn't matter, the poison did. It abandoned the fight to heal.
"Where are you?" I screamed into the night, searching for Adam in the darkness.
"Here." He appeared behind me, slamming me in the gut with the metal arm, the force of it throwing me off the balcony. I fought to regain control, to stop my descent, and failing. I went through the roof of the opposite building, and then through the wall, coming out on the other side.
I watched him launch high into the air, the arm glowing and moving, fingers tapping. A Fist blasted through the wall of the building I'd just gone through, blades flashing in the night. I rolled away from its attack, kicking it hard enough in the side to push it off balance. I tried to slide the dagger into its elbow joint and missed, the scripture flaring and knocking my arm aside, leaving it numb. I backed away as it turned, looking for a path out.