The Crystal Lake

by L. J. LaBarthe

  Michael drew his sword. “Close your eyes,” he said gently. “Concentrate upon Samael’s hand upon your brow.”

  Amur-sin did as Michael directed. Gabriel watched as Michael took a deep breath and then plunged his sword into the vampire’s chest, straight into his heart. There was a long, gurgling sigh, and then Samael stood up and held out his hand, smiling.

  “Come with me, old friend,” Samael said.

  Gabriel didn’t hear the reply, but he heard Samael vanish in a rustle of feathers.

  “Well,” Remiel said into the silence, “that was informative. And I’m very glad we could give Amur-sin the relief he wanted.”

  “As am I,” Michael said. He stood up and moved to Gabriel’s side. “Is it necessary to go back through the caves, Raziel? Can we not teleport from here?”

  Raziel looked around the cave. “Yeah. The wards are gone, now. I think that was part of Naamah’s scheme. She took the Grail and warded Amur-sin in here so he couldn’t call for help.”

  “Let’s go home,” Haniel said. “And by home, I mean Yerevan.”

  “As you say,” Michael said. He took Gabriel’s hand in his. “We can discuss our plans with the Archdemons as soon as we return.”

  “Let’s seal up this cave first,” Tzadkiel suggested. “It’s holy in its own way—it was home to the Grail for centuries, after all.”

  “That is a fine idea, Tzadkiel,” Michael said.

  “I’ll do it,” Metatron said. “You go on ahead.”

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Remiel said.

  “As you say.” Michael looked around. “Shall we go, Gabriel?”

  “Aye,” Gabriel said. Then he moved them back to Yerevan and the waiting Archdemons, Venatores, and others.

  Chapter Twenty

  “SO NOW we know,” Adramelek mused as Michael finished reporting what they had learned at Little Langdale Tarn. “That story about the sea was bullshit, and what she really wants is revenge on her sisters and the rest of us for giving them toys and pretty ribbons and not her.”

  Gabriel snorted at that. “That’s a colorful way to put it.”

  “Accurate, though, yes?” Adramelek looked over at Ondrass. “What do you think?”

  “I think your cat had it right; she played us all.” Ondrass shook his head. “Now all we need is to get into Purgatory and deal with her.”

  “That sums it up,” Uriel said.

  Lyudmila cleared her throat. Her expression was sad, and Gabriel thought she was still mourning the shifter Arkady, who she had once called friend. “What will we do now?” she asked.

  Before anyone could answer her, Gabriel’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. “It’s Max,” he said, and then he answered it.

  “Gabe, we’ve got some information,” Max said without any preamble.

  “Just a mo’, let me put you on speaker so everyone can hear,” Gabriel said. “You picked a good time to ring; we’re all meeting in Ondrass’s palace of a hotel room.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and punched the key to activate the speakerphone, then set it on the table. “Okay, hear me all right?”

  “No problem,” Max said. “So, Minnie and I, we’ve got information about that guy in the photograph you gave us. The bloke you said was hanging around the library in London and at the Observatory in Belgium.”

  Gabriel and Michael exchanged a look. “What have you found?” Michael asked.

  “I ran the photo you gave me of him through various facial recognition servers around the world, and it took a while to get a hit. Finally, I got one, from Lebanon. It seems this guy’s had quite a career as an antiquity thief. And then I found out he has a twin sister.”

  “A sister?” Michael echoed, as Gabriel looked seriously at him.

  “Arthur and Morgana,” Max said. “I’m sending you their photos.”

  “Seriously?” Raziel asked, astonishment in his tone. “That’s seriously their names?”

  “Yeah. I bet they went through shit at school. If they went to school. Or a school on earth,” Max said.

  “What do you mean?” Michael asked.

  “They’re the offspring of the succubus called Naamah,” Max said.

  “So the vampire spoke truth,” Metatron mused. Michael motioned him to silence as Max continued.

  “Arthur’s the guy who showed up at the Monastery of Saint Catherine, I got confirmation of that from the man in charge—”

  “Abbot,” Gabriel supplied.

  “Him. I shot him an email with a photo and explained I was working for you guys, and he was really helpful,” Max said.

  “Well now,” Gabriel said. “This is very interesting information.”

  “I’m still digging. I’m trying to find out where they are now and where their mother is,” Max said.

  “Purgatory,” Raziel supplied. “We know that for sure now.”

  “Is that possible? I mean, how can the Grail be there and the problems here on Earth not be worse?” Max asked.

  “All good questions,” Raziel said. “Consider, however. None can get into Purgatory. We know that’s where she’s hiding. Purgatory’s the closest reality to Earth. If the Grail isn’t on Earth anymore, which I don’t think it is, it’s because it’s there.”

  Max whistled. “That’s way above my pay grade. I don’t have any contacts in Purgatory.”

  “We’ll work something out,” Raziel said.

  “Aye. Thanks for this, Max,” Gabriel said.

  “You’re welcome. Minnie and I went through a lot of photos to find a match to that one, and finding his twin sister was a bonus.”

  “Can you send me the photos?” Raziel asked.

  “No worries, Raz. I’ll email them to you now,” Max said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Max,” Michael said. “We appreciate your work.”

  “It’s not a problem at all. Happy to help.”

  “We will speak with you and Miss Minnie again soon,” Michael said.

  Max laughed. “Okay. Talk to you later then.”

  Gabriel ended the call and pocketed his phone. “And now we know their names.”

  “The pieces are beginning to fall into place,” Samael said.

  “What do you want us to do, boss?” Angelique asked.

  “Return to Oregon and train,” Michael said. “I want you to be ready for a fight.”

  Danny grinned at that. “Now that’s good news.”

  “I will take them home, sir,” Shateiel offered.

  “Thank you,” Michael said.

  Agrat had been silent throughout the meeting and now she stood. There were tears in her eyes, but her expression was resolute. “I cannot forgive Naamah for all that she has done,” she said. “It breaks my heart that this is all out of jealousy of her sisters. If she had only spoken to us!”

  “But she did not, my lady,” Ondrass said. “She chose instead to gnaw on her liver and turn green with envy. Her sins are not a stain on you and your sisters.”

  “Even if Lilith is a pain in the ass,” Adramelek said.

  Agrat smiled faintly at that. “She has her moments,” she said. “When you assault Purgatory, I want to be there.”

  Michael frowned. “I do not think that is wise.”

  “I have the right to confront her about all of this,” Agrat said. “And I know you’ll kill her, so I won’t have another chance. Don’t deny me this, Michael, please.”

  Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. “Very well. But I want you to remain beside Shateiel at all times.”

  “I will. Thank you,” Agrat said.

  Suddenly, there was a sound like a million angry bees buzzing in the air. Gabriel looked around, trying to pinpoint the source, when the noise shattered and the voice of Sorella, so many miles away in the Congo, came to them.

  “Archangels! Please! We need your help! Our country is on fire!”

  Gabriel blurred into his armor without a second thought. “Uriel, Raziel,” he sa
id, “come with me. Samael, you too. Shateiel, bring the Seraphim.”

  “Wait!” Michael held up a hand. “We must—”

  A new voice came across the empty miles to them then, a voice that spoke in rapid Korean and sounded just as upset and terrified as Sorella had. Michael’s eyes grew wide, and he answered the voice. Just as suddenly as the voices had come to them, they were gone.

  “I must go to North Korea,” Michael said. “Metatron, Remiel, please accompany me. Tzadkiel, I need your Ophanim, and you as well.”

  “What’s going on?” Ondrass demanded.

  “Monsters are attacking Jihu’s village,” Michael said. His form blurred and he was in his armor, his sword in his hand.

  “And who is Jihu?” Adramelek asked.

  “A shaman,” Raziel said. He turned to Michael. “Are you sure?”

  “You heard him, Raziel.” Michael drew himself up. “We must go.”

  “Lead on,” Remiel said.

  Michael nodded and vanished.

  Gabriel looked around the room as Metatron, Remiel, and Tzadkiel, with Sophiel and Brieus in tow, disappeared. “Come on, Uri,” he said. “We need to put out a fire.”

  Uriel was also in his armor, and Gabriel hadn’t even noticed him change clothes. “Right,” Uriel said.

  Gabriel gave a curt nod and moved, feeling the power of Archangels and legions of Seraphim join him.

  He emerged in the world, hovering above the Congo. From his vantage point, it looked as if half of western Africa was on fire. Flames reared toward the sky and thick, black smoke funneled upward. Gabriel cursed and flared his wings as he hovered.

  “Uriel,” he said as Uriel drew up beside him, “time to call down rain like you did for Noah’s Flood.”

  “But not as much of it,” Uriel said. He raised his arm, pointing the tip of his sword at the sky, and Gabriel felt the surge as Uriel released his power through the blade. Energy ripped into the clouds that drifted above them with the sound of a cannon shot, and suddenly, the clouds went dark, black and threatening. For a moment, there was nothing, and then the rain began to fall.

  It came as a deluge, heavy drops that soon put out the fire and drenched everything. Gabriel was soon wet through, soaking and cold. He would have to tend to his armor as soon as they finished here, he thought, or the rust would be unmanageable.

  As the rain soaked the land and the angels, it also settled the smoke, and soon, only a few thin tendrils of steam remained. Gabriel looked down at the land and felt a deep sadness—there was so much destruction and so much scorched earth, piles of carcasses, both animal and human, and ruined buildings.

  “I think that’s enough, Uri,” Raziel yelled over the sound of the downpour. “You can switch it off now.”

  Uriel didn’t say anything to that, but he lowered his sword and the rain stopped. Gabriel mopped at his face with his hands and shook his head. “What the fuck happened?” he wondered.

  “That’s a damn good question.” Uriel’s expression was as cheery as one of the thunderclouds that still roiled above them. “This isn’t a natural fire, Gabriel.”

  “He’s right,” Raziel said. “Someone set this deliberately.”

  “Aye, but how could they set something so huge and not be noticed?” Gabriel demanded.

  “Let’s go check for survivors,” Uriel said. “Not everyone’s dead, are they, Sammy?”

  Samael shook his head. His expression was one of deep and abiding sadness. “No, Uriel, they are not. But they will have a great many problems now. We must help with things like sanitation, food, and blankets and ask Raphael to send medicines.”

  “Shateiel,” Gabriel called.

  “Sir?” Shateiel was there a moment later.

  “Go to Raph. Tell him we need him.”

  Shateiel saluted and vanished. Ten minutes later, he returned with Raphael.

  Raphael gasped as he took in the scene below. “What happened here?” he asked, his voice hushed.

  “A fire the size of the whole damn country,” Uriel said. “Gabe suggested I make it rain to put it out, but now we don’t know how many survived or what condition they’ll be in.”

  Raphael shook his head. “I will call the Dominions to come and assist me. This is too big for me alone.”

  “Do whatever you need to,” Gabriel said. “I’ll back you.”

  “So will I,” Raziel said.

  “And I,” Samael said.

  “I don’t want to sound like a parrot, but I’m with them,” Uriel said.

  Raphael chuckled at that. “At least you’ve retained your humor, Uriel.”

  “Sometimes, that’s all you can do,” Uriel said. He looked down again at the sodden remains of the Congo. “Should we go down now?”

  “Aye.” Gabriel was reaching out with his power as he spoke. “We need to find Sorella. I’d wager she’d be able to tell us what happened.”

  “She’s in her shelter,” Raziel said. “I just found her. She used magic to shield herself and the four families who took refuge with her.”

  Gabriel brought his wings down. “Let’s go see her.”

  As soon as Sorella saw them, she rushed to them, and Raziel moved to her, enfolding her in a tight but awkward hug. The reason for the awkwardness became quickly apparent—Sorella clutched her infant daughter to her body and the baby was whimpering.

  “Is she ill?” Raziel asked, looking down at the little girl.

  “No, Mr. Raziel, she’s just frightened.” Sorella looked at him with wide, dark eyes. “We were all frightened.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Raziel hugged her again. “I was frightened, too, when we heard you calling for help.”

  “So was I,” Gabriel said.

  “Hello, Mr. Gabriel,” Sorella said. “And Mr. Uriel, too!”

  “Quite a lot of us, actually,” Raziel said. “We’ve got Raphael out there to help the sick and injured, and there’ll be a lot of angels helping him.”

  Sorella swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

  “What happened here?” Gabriel asked. “I mean, apart from the fire, I can see that for myself, before you say anything, Uri.”

  Uriel snorted. “Am I getting predictable?”

  “Aye,” Gabriel said.

  “Dammit!” Uriel removed his helmet and shook the rainwater from its plume. Then he looked at Sorella. “I’m glad to see you again, though I wish it was under better circumstances, Sorella. How did the fire start?”

  “A woman was here,” Sorella said. “She seemed young—perhaps in her midtwenties—and she walked through the camp, looking around and smiling. I saw her wander past my tent, and I watched her, because she didn’t look right.”

  “What do you mean?” Raziel asked.

  “She had an ill aura,” Sorella said. “It was full of decay and disease and of ancient evil and pain. She was happy, though, happy to be doing something. I could hear her thoughts quite clearly. She did not bother to shield them. She was happy to do something her mother had asked, and she was looking for me and my daughter. So I hid. I lay in my tent and pretended not to be there, and my neighbors told her nothing. So she walked, and we watched, and she disappeared.

  “An hour later, she came back. She was laughing and skipping along, like a child with a ball. She was delirious with joy and glee, and she clapped her hands and sang. And as she did that, fire came. It just erupted, blew up out of nothing. This young woman danced in a circle and she sang, ‘If Sorella cannot be found, then I’ll just have to burn you all up!’”

  Gabriel’s grip had tightened on his sword hilt. “Do you know who she was, this woman?”

  Sorella shook her head. “I hadn’t ever seen her before, Mr. Gabriel. But her name, that was loud in her thoughts. Her name is Morgana and her brother is Arthur and their mother is Naamah.”

  Uriel began to swear. Gabriel ground his teeth together.

  Samael stepped forward. “I am grieved by this tale, good lady,” he said. �
�Come, let us see to the hurts of the land and the people and fix what we can.” He looked over at Gabriel. “Yell in Aramaic when you start to swear, dear Gabriel. Let us not frighten these poor people any more than they already are.”

  Gabriel nodded curtly. “Got it,” he said. He reached out and gripped Samael’s arm. “Thanks,” he added.

  Samael looked sadly at him. “We do what we must,” he said.

  Gabriel was stopped from answering him by Michael’s voice coming to him.

  “Gabriel! I need backup! They are too many!”

  “Where are you?”

  “North Korea, in the village of Jihu.”

  “I’m coming, Michael.” Gabriel turned to Uriel and Raziel. “I have to go. Michael needs backup.”

  Uriel bared his teeth in a snarl. “Fucking fuck. I’ll come with you.”

  “Shateiel, you come too. Bring half the legions, leave the other half here to help Raz, Raph, and Sammy,” Gabriel ordered.

  “Yes, sir!” Shateiel saluted, and Gabriel heard him bark commands to the Seraphim.

  “We go,” Gabriel said and vanished, teleporting to North Korea.

  When he arrived, Uriel, Shateiel beside him and half the legions of Seraphim behind him, Gabriel took in the scene. Michael, flanked by Metatron, Tzadkiel, and Remiel with two hundred angels spread out behind them, was fighting.

  Their foes were every kind of monster imaginable. There were minotaurs, two-headed Cerebuses, dragons, gryphons, many-headed serpents, and among them all, demons, their eyes red or yellow, their weapons a variety of cruel torture implements. Here and there lay a corpse—human, angel, and monster.

  Gabriel began to issue orders. “Shateiel, take three legions and move on the rear guard. Take no prisoners. Uriel, take another two legions and move to the left flank, cut off their escape route. The mountains to the right flank will slow them down. The rest of you, with me.”

  As the angels peeled off in groups to carry out his commands, Gabriel flared his wings high and dropped to the ground beside his lover to engage the enemy.

  “What happened?” Gabriel demanded as he stood back-to-back with Michael.

  “Jihu’s firstborn son has been taken,” Michael said. His voice was grim. “Naamah’s son kidnapped him.”