by Vox Day
Holli nodded and looked around for any sign of her sister, but the rocky ground offered no clues.
“Um, yeah, I guess so. You haven’t seen my sister?”
“Does she look like you?”
“Yeah, she does.” Holli made a modest gesture. “We’re, like, twins, you see.” It always embarrassed her to have to tell people. It was too much like bragging.
“Twins, hmmm?” The lion yawned, exposing large, white fangs and a very blue tongue. “Nope, haven’t seen her. Haven’t seen anyone, to tell you the truth, since Prince Gabriel sent me here.”
Holli felt a little annoyed that the lion had dismissed her twin-ness so offhandedly. But perhaps he was just jealous. Then his words struck her. “Prince Gabriel…is that, like, Gabriel the angel?”
“Do you know any other Gabriel? I don’t. Of course I mean the angel. The one who’s always messing about in mortal affairs. It’s his job, so I can’t say I blame him, but I do think he enjoys it more than he should. But yes, he’s an angel, I’m an angel, we’re all angels, you know, just doing our angel business.”
The lion cleared his throat and glanced guiltily around the hilltop.
“What I mean to say is, of course, the Lord’s business, which is really what angel business is, after all.”
Holli nodded slowly, finding it difficult to follow the lion’s train of thought.
“So, you’re an angel too!” she concluded triumphantly.
“Of course I am,” he replied.
“You don’t look like Paulus or Mariel. Or Aliel, she’s my angel. They look like people, only they’re like, totally beautiful. And they’ve got wings. Mariel’s pretty and she’s got really great hair, but I think I like Aliel better. She’s even prettier.”
The lion scratched himself absently with a hind leg. He didn’t appear to be very interested in her opinions. But perhaps he was, because his next statement led Holli to suspect that he might be just a little bit vain.
“Are you saying I’m not beautiful?”
“Oh, no, not at all.” Holli narrowed her eyes and took a critical look. “I mean, yes, you’re very beautiful. Your mane is a very nice shade of blue, and it goes very well with your yellow, um, fur, I guess. But it’s different, you know?”
“Well, that’s really just a matter of perspective, isn’t it?”
The lion reared back on his hind legs and transformed into a tall, handsome youth with black hair streaked with dark blue highlights. His eyes were blue now, and precisely the color that his mane had been. He spread his hands and bowed to her, a courtly gesture that made Holli laugh self-consciously.
“Please, do forgive my manners. Taking the form of a beast always has the worst effect on me. Tends to make me rather beastly, don’t you know? I am the Archon Khasaratjofee, at your service.”
He was very good-looking, and his attention made Holli blush.
“I’m Holli, Holli Lewis. It’s nice to meet you, Khasar… Khaserott-“
“Maybe you’d just better call me Khasar,” he suggested as she struggled with his name. “It’s not a very common name, and if there happen to be more than one of us around, well, I’ll just assume you’re talking to me. How does that sound, Holli-Holli Lewis?”
“No, silly,” Holli laughed at him. “My name is Holli, not Holli-Holli.”
The Archon nodded gravely.
“I was wondering about that. I mean, a name like that sort of brings a picture to mind, you know? Not a lot of imagination, if you see what I’m getting at. Repetition, redundancy, and well, alliteration just isn’t what it used to be.”
Holli stared at him blankly. She had no idea what he was saying.
Khasar sighed.
“You don’t see what I’m getting at?” He nodded mournfully as she shook her head. “People usually don’t. I say one thing, and somebody hears something altogether different. That’s just how I got stuck with this gig. It’s not like all the angels in the host were exactly lining up volunteering to carry around a pair of chubby little daughters of Lilith. By the way, there were supposed to be two of you, weren’t there?”
“There are two of us. That’s why I asked about my sister. She was with me when we ate the scrolls. And, by the way, I’m not in the least bit chubby!” She glared at Khasar. “You’ve said that twice now, and it just isn’t true!”
“It’s just an expression, you know.”
“Oh, is it?” Holli thought for a moment. “Well, why did you call me a daughter of Lilith then? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re a human.” Khasar wrinkled his nose. “You are, aren’t you? You see, Lilith was the first woman, and so that would make you her daughter, by extension. It’s another expression, you see?”
Holli rolled her eyes. “Lilith wasn’t the first woman, dummy. That was Eve.”
Khasar shook his handsome head and smiled. His teeth were very white, and Holli wondered if he used a special toothpaste.
“No, Lilith was the first mortal woman. Trust me on this one. And I don’t know who this Adam character is, but I don’t think Lilith was ever anyone’s wife. She wasn’t exactly the marrying kind, as I remember. A most unpleasant woman.”
He seemed pretty sure of himself. Holli looked up at the sky. For the first time, she wondered if the yellow sky wasn’t just some new kind of pollution or something, and if perhaps she wasn’t on Earth after all.
“Khasar, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, you can ask. But I won’t promise that I’ll answer it.”
Holli stamped her foot.
“Be serious for just a second, will you? I was just wondering if this place was, like, Oz or something.”
“No, it’s not Oz. What an odd name!” He gestured about the hilltop. “Behold Ahura Azdha, as it is called by the humans who live here, but among the Host it’s usually called Rahab, after the old name of the great city. Rahab the wicked.”
“Now I know how Dorothy felt.” She looked back at Khasar, startled. “Did you just say, ‘the wicked’?”
“Yes.”
“Why is it called that?”
The Archon yawned again. Even in his human form, he reminded Holli of a big cat.
“Because this is a very, very bad place, my dear.”
Chapter 10
Circle of Fire
My soul is among lions: and I lie even among them that are set on fire, even the sons of men, whose teeth are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword.
—Psalms 57:4
Heaven belonged to the Dawn Prince. It was a bitter truth to accept, but Michael forced himself to acknowledge it. Although there were fierce pockets of Divine resistance in many parts of the Eternal City, its golden streets were now patrolled by the legions of the Fallen. The shattered remnants of the Heavenly Hosts now cowered behind the walls of the Arx Dei, the Fortress of Heaven’s King that was their only protection against the Prince’s legions. The great archangel thumbed the hilt of his sword angrily, for far too many angels had broken faith with the Almighty and fearfully submitted to the victorious Dawn Prince. Lucifer’s victory was close to complete. Or so it seemed.
As to the Lord Most High, there was still no sign. He had not bestirred Himself from His great white throne, and His absence from the battle had done as much as any Fallen feat of arms to contribute to the defeat of the Divine. Though Michael did not doubt that the Almighty would triumph at the moment of His choosing, faltering faith and despair had weakened the will of many lesser angels.
Michael had seen many terrible things over the past few days, but the worst by far was seeing an angel’s faith die before his eyes. Oh, that the faithless would only choose destruction and the void instead of blasphemous rebellion against the Highest! One day, he knew, the treacherous ones would regret their damnable decision, but then it would be too late. Michael’s heart ached, because he knew that he himself must bear some of the blame.
It was his foolish counterattack that had cost him, and them, so dearl
y. He thought he had Baal Chanan exactly where he wanted him, and he might even have been right. At first light, Baal Chanan had hurled the Fallen army at his lines in what he thought was a desperation attack. The attack had easily been beaten back, and although Gabriel had counseled caution, Michael overruled him and led the counterattack himself. Baal Chanan was almost within reach when word came of a surprise assault on his flank by the fallen archon Verchiel.
Michael closed his eyes and growled deep within his throat. He hadn’t thought much about the second attack, and was content to send a strong force of archangels over to contain it. But by the time Verchiel had been driven off and the host was in good order for a final assault on Baal Chanan’s lines, a messenger arrived with reports of another Fallen legion entering Heaven through the Tenth Gate.
With his greater numbers, there still shouldn’t have been a problem. Michael remembered a faint feeling of consternation, but no great sense of alarm. Undismayed, he’d ordered Jehuel, whose Divine host was positioned outside the walls, to attack Baal Chanan at once, and turned his own forces towards the Tenth Gate to meet this latest threat. He knew Jehuel’s host was more than large enough to finish off Baal Chanan’s decimated forces, and he was eager, perhaps too eager, to settle things with Harab Serap, the leader of the second rebel legion, who had recklessly styled himself the Lord of Destruction.
But he’d forgotten one thing. Jehuel was a jealous and resentful angel. When the Almighty defeated Leviathan, the great king of Chaos, He had done so with Jehuel at His side. Afterwards, Jehuel had bound the monster in the bowels of a subterranean prison, a dangerous and thankless task. But when Lucifer fell and began his prideful rebellion, the Lord of Hosts had chosen him, Michael, and not Jehuel, to marshal the Divine forces.
Should he have sent a polite request instead of an order? Should he have gone to Jehuel personally? In hindsight, it was easy to rebuke himself, but how could he have known that an angel-lord would fall over so small a matter? He wished he’d acted differently, although in his heart, he knew Jehuel had been honor-bound to obey. It was not his fault that Jehuel was a prideful, petty fool.
With his jealousy goaded beyond endurance, Jehuel changed sides. He gathered his host, bypassed Asmodel and his outnumbered cohort, and launched a savage attack on Michael’s unguarded flank. Baal Chanan, ever opportunistic, was quick to take advantage of Jehuel’s timely betrayal, and threw his forces against Michael’s rear just as Harab Serap’s legion smashed into its front.
It was more of a rout than a battle. Attacked on three sides and stunned by Jehuel’s shocking treachery, many of his angels threw down their swords and fled. Most of them were pursued and quickly sent Beyond; only a small number stayed with Michael and his honor guard as they fought their way past Harab Serap to find sanctuary in the Arx Dei. The first battle for Heaven was over, and with it, it appeared, the war as well.
Michael took a deep breath and looked out over the battlements at the colorful flags and pennants of the besieging legions. It looked like a maddened sea of color, like the coils of a great snake threatening to choke the life from this last Heavenly bastion of the Lord Most High. The thought of a snake reminded him of Lucifer, and his warrior’s heart filled with rage. Furious, he raised his white-gloved fist and shouted out a prayer against the Fallen army below.
“Pay them back what they deserve, O Lord, for what their hands have done. Put a veil over their hearts and may your curse be on them! Pursue them in anger and destroy them from under the heavens of the Lord.”
Christopher stood next to Kaym as they waited to be summoned before the Dawn Prince. He wore his new Aspect, that of a winged Viking warrior. It wasn’t as cool as most of the other angels’ Aspects, but just having something together made him feel that he fit in a little better. Prince Lucere had flown Heavenward from the Courts of Light as soon as he’d received word of his legions’ stunning victory, and his first order of business was to reward those who had served him so faithfully and well.
Both Baal Chanan and Harab Serap were honored and titled Dukes of Heaven, while the treacherous Lord Jehuel was named Prince of Aurora and given the honor of ruling a place called Ahura Azdha on the Prince’s behalf.
“He’ll reward us too, don’t you think?” Christopher asked nervously as he looked around the room. The gathering wasn’t anything like the assembly in the Courts of Light. There were many powerful angel-lords here, princely rivals for power, and tense undercurrents filled the massive chamber. He watched uneasily as one giant, four-headed brute pushed a smaller, horned angel roughly aside, and made a mental note to remember the monster’s faces and stay out of his way.
“Of course he will,” Kaym answered, oblivious to Christopher’s anxiety. “Unlike the King, the Shining One is no fool. This war would not be over yet had the King given Prince Jehuel his due. Fortunately for us, the King did not, and now Heaven is ours.”
“What’s this Jehuel like?” Christopher arched his neck and searched the crowd near the front of the room. He wanted to see what he looked like. “Is he cool? Do you like him?”
“No one likes a traitor.” Kaym had a contemptuous look on his face. “But I didn’t think much of him before, either.”
Christopher nodded. Kaym was pretty loyal to the Prince, so his dislike of Jehuel was understandable. “How do you think the Prince will reward us?” he asked. “Will he make you a commander? If he does, maybe I could be, like, your assistant. Or maybe he could make me a commander! My plan worked pretty well, after all. I wish I could tell my Dad about it, because he always said I was wasting my time playing wargames. Ha!”
Kaym shook his head. “No, you have a talent for war, but it would be a mistake for you to be placed where you should be responsible for commanding angels. Remember that Jehuel came over to us because of his hatred for Michael. You are young and unknown, and there are many who would resent your rise. There are already many who envy you for the glory you have won for opening the Gates.”
“That’s stupid! The Prince himself said no one else could do it.”
Before Kaym could reply, though, four angels clad in the glittering golden armor of the Prince’s personal guard approached them.
“Your presence before the Shining One is requested, my lords.”
Christopher grinned at Kaym, and the fallen angel smiled faintly back. Kaym walked behind him as he followed the guards up the marble steps and through the silver doors of the chamber that the Prince was using as a makeshift reception hall. It was called the Altar of the Lamb, and the walls were covered with carvings that featured a recurring theme of a shepherd and his sheep. Christopher wondered at the Prince’s choice of this place, when there were other, much more impressive buildings to be found.
As he walked into Adonai Lucere’s shining presence, the Dawn Prince rose from a crystalline throne and embraced him, then Kaym. The Prince was literally glowing with the pleasure of His long-sought victory, now so nearly in His grasp. His smile was pleased and friendly as he praised them before the crowded hall.
“Well done, Our good and faithful servants!” He placed both hands on Christopher’s shoulders. “Ask from Us what thou wilt and thou shalt receive it.”
“Thank you, your…uh, your Highness.” The thought of having a legion to command was still tempting, but when he glanced back at Kaym, the fallen angel shook his head. “But, you know, I guess I don’t know what I should ask for. Maybe you could just decide on something for me?”
The Prince stepped back and stroked his bearded chin, weighing Christopher with a measured glance. His golden eyes glinted with amusement.
“Shall We then decide for thee?”
Christopher suddenly felt uptight. What if the Prince really was the Devil, after all? He remembered too, that in most of the fairy tales he’d read as a kid, whoever dealt with the Devil usually got screwed in the end. But, then again, didn’t Kaym say that most of what people knew was wrong, anyhow? “Yeah, that’d be cool,” he heard himself say.
&
nbsp; “Very well, then.”
The Dawn Prince clapped his hands, and immediately a score of trumpets sounded. The crowd of angels fell to their knees, abasing themselves before the Shining One, whose raised voice carried clearly across the room.
“Let it be known that Our servant, Christopher, hath served Us well. As a mark of Our favor, know that Christopher shalt henceforth be known as Phaoton, of the Rose Sefiroth of Sammael.”
Right on, Christopher thought. His title sounded cool, whatever it was.
“He’s raising you to the rank of Powers,” Kaym informed him unobtrusively as the watching angels cheered politely. “That’s above the Archangels in the hierarchy, and below the Archons.”
“Why Phaoton?”
“It means, of the sun. The sun is the sign of the Prince, of course, so it is a mark of His favor.”
Christopher nodded. He felt just a little disgruntled, as Phaoton wasn’t exactly a name he would have picked for himself. But becoming a Power was awesome, especially considering that he used to think having a twelfth-level mage in D&D was a big deal. Then a jolt of memory struck him like a bolt of lightning. Melusine had called him Phaoton back at First Avenue. How could she have known that the Prince would call him that?
“Let Your will be done, O Shining Prince,” the assembled crowd intoned as he racked his brain without reaching a conclusion.
The Shining One made a sign to a group of angels standing guard near the door, and sank back into his throne. He motioned for Christopher to come closer, and when Christopher did so, the Prince whispered into his ear.
“There is no room for the weak or the stupid in Our Courts.” His trimmed whiskers tickled Christopher’s ear as as he spoke. “Those who are weak are useless to Us, and those who are stupid will overreach themselves until they fall, broken by the weight of their own greed and ambition. Be strong, Phaoton, but be not stupid!”