by Rex Jameson
Chapter 16
Returning to Order
Lucifer retched for the fourth time into the swirling transport and begged for a stop.
“We can’t stop here, Lucifer,” Michael said. “You’ll die. You’ll all die.”
“Tell it to stop fighting us.”
“I would have more luck convincing a hurricane to stop raining and blowing so damned hard.”
“It’s a natural reaction,” Sariel explained after wiping his own mouth.
“We’re pushing into a swirling vortex to bring a half-dead uncle to his resurrection,” Lucifer said. “I don’t think natural has anything to do with it.”
“And yet everything we are comes from this simple truth,” Sariel said. “We are pushing into the primal pattern of a natural enemy, and it fights us with every step.”
“Can we not exit this monstrosity and travel normally?” Lucifer asked.
“You could,” Michael said before pointing toward Batarel. “But he couldn’t.”
“How long does he have?”
Anne wiped the sweat from her father’s brow. “Maybe two weeks, but I have him under so many sedatives that I can’t be entirely sure.”
He still hadn’t seen anything more than her eyes and mouth. She never removed any of her white gear.
A thunderclap echoed across the walls of the maelstrom as Lucifer rose to his feet.
“What was that?” Michael said.
“You mean you don’t know?” Lucifer asked.
“Order just rejected something violently,” Sariel said. “We need to get moving, and now.”
Lucifer and Sariel grabbed the handles on the litter and pulled hard, causing Batarel to moan softly as the bundle moved forward. Beside them, a great ball of light glided under the skin of the vortex, and all around it the pattern fought and attacked the luminous, crackling orb.
“What the hell was that?” Lucifer asked.
“I’ve never seen it before,” Michael said.
“Keep moving,” Sariel said.
They picked up their pace, and nothing happened for another ten minutes. Then another thunderclap sounded.
“I saw their faces that time,” Michael said.
“Whose?” Sariel asked.
“Demons.”
“The Council?”
“I didn’t get a chance to ask them,” Michael replied moodily as he flexed his hands and allowed the group to pass him.
“They’re risking a lot teleporting their bolts here,” Sariel said.
“What are they trying to do?” Lucifer asked.
“Preventing a lot of knowledge from falling into the hands of the enemy,” Sariel said. “Keep moving.”
“What do they think our uncle would tell the angels?”
“I don’t know,” Sariel said. “Every weakness the Council has. Exactly where to hit and the pressure required. Who knows what Batarel will be like or what side he will take when he is reborn? I have no idea how this Hall of Souls thing works, and neither does the Council. Too many unknowns here for them to tolerate the risk.”
“I don’t think Jehovah cares about that information,” Michael said. “The Council will fall one way or another.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t try, though,” Sariel said before flinching as a loud rumble rolled over them. “Get ready for another chaos bolt!”
Lucifer backpedaled as the bolt appeared a few hundred feet behind them. This time, it was on target.
“We need a shield!” Lucifer screamed.
Michael filled the vortex with a thin bubble. The offensive magic screamed as it met the barrier, but the conjured bolt was so powerful that it pushed on through the shield. Luckily, it was enough to deflect the comet-like orb into the walls.
“We’re going to need something stronger than that,” Lucifer said.
“I’m doing the best that I can,” Michael said. “I may be a creature of Order, but this vortex affects me too.”
“Don’t look at me.” Sariel said, shrugging. “I’m useless in this environment. Put me in the room behind those wizards, though, and it’s over.”
“Yeah,” Michael said. He muttered something under his breath and looked at Batarel.
Another sonic boom, and Lucifer saw the four wizards this time through their conjured portal.
Michael spun about with a furrowed brow, hands at the ready. As the portal grew brighter from the incoming artillery, Michael pushed a shield into it, and then loud screams momentarily drowned out the whooshing of the vortex. But as the shield forced its way farther into the portal, it became impervious even to sound.
“What did you do?” Sariel asked.
“He just sealed the portal,” Lucifer said. “I think they were sending another bolt.”
Sariel chuckled. “Ricocheted back to them, didn’t it? Did you see it?”
Michael nodded. “I saw the whole thing. I think it destroyed a large section of the High Council chambers.”
“Well done!” Lucifer said. “They shouldn’t be trying that again.”
“I don’t think they’ll be trying much of anything ever again.”
“You did the right thing.”
Michael returned to the front of the litter and grabbed a handle. “I don’t think Jehovah would want me destroying souls.”
They rested very little that day or any other day for the next couple of weeks. Anne would often feed her father sedatives and a cocktail of antibiotics, coagulants and other medicines while running alongside him, and Lucifer and Sariel learned how to vomit as they ran without hunching over.
And then one day, Michael slowed down, and the next day, they actually rested.
“What’s going on?” Lucifer asked.
“I’ve heard from Jehovah,” Michael said. “We’re deep enough into the pattern that resurrection is possible. We’ve made it.”
Sariel breathed a sigh of relief. Anne did, too. Lucifer, however, grunted as he looked into his uncle’s face. Had they saved the wizard or doomed him? And would Jehovah expect thanks either way?
Gratitude was the last thing Lucifer would ever give to that demon, angel, or whatever. Because of Jehovah, Lucifer had lost his freedom for hundreds of thousands of years. His father and mother had been taken from him. His succession was now in jeopardy, and there was no doubt that Batarel would have never been in that Coliseum had there not been a coup in Alurabum caused by the death-ray aimed at Chaos.
As they began moving once again, Lucifer grabbed a cloth loop in one hand and summoned one of his zinanbar blades with the other. When Michael gave him a puzzled look, Lucifer stared right back while he sliced at the air with his sword. If Jehovah expected gratitude, he was in for a rude awakening.