Realm of Diamond Angel
Diamond Angel grimaced in pain. Waves of force, emanating from her own energy body, beat on the interior walls of her gigantic palace. She got to her feet, moaning in anguish. An underworld creature was coming through from within her. Someone or something had given the creature new weapons, granting it the power to enter the Overworld. The stress from this, as well as from the wound she had suffered at Iron Star’s hand, drove spikes of pain into every part of her.
She staggered toward an opening that had appeared in her palace wall. Beyond it loomed the Root Hexagon. Thanks to the underworld intrusion, Diamond Angel had unprecedented direct access to her enemy’s stronghold. She passed through the opening as her awareness submerged under the weight of a more primitive consciousness. Too late, she realized that she had left her staff behind. With her last conscious thought, she prayed to whatever gods were listening that the intruder would be strong enough to defeat Iron Star.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
An Angel Goes to War
Then Eagle comes with offer bold
To grant the Angel throne of gold
Wherein she may with ceaseless will
Uphold the law within his fold.
Root Hexagon, Bald Eagle
At first, Angela could make no sense of her perceptions. She was embedded within a vast, geometrical form, an infinitely complex network of rust-red, slate-blue, and dingy-white shapes. Her sense of her own body was gone, and it required a tremendous effort of will for her to think at all. But ancient instincts took over. Training from countless lifetimes, which had helped her assemble her perceptions in other realities, came to the fore. With a massive jolt, the world crashed into shape around her.
She sneezed. An acrid, penetrating odor reminded her of a laboratory experiment gone wrong. She coughed and reflexively covered her mouth and nose. She looked at her feet. She was standing on a reddish, sand-covered surface like that of a desert in the American southwest. Then she looked up and around her.
Angela stood on the debris-strewn floor of a large crater, the ridged walls rising well above her line of sight. At its center, half-submerged in a bubbling pool of putrescent yellow liquid, a towering, crystalline boulder glowed in a shifting spectrum of colors. It looked like raw quartz. Cables of some sort wrapped the crystal and snaked across the floor of the crater to disappear over its lip. A large, indistinct form stood near the pool, something smaller at its feet, but the glow of the crystal confused her vision.
She glanced up at red clouds scudding across a turbulent sky. The perspective was wrong. Then something dragged her gaze back to the center of the crater as her wits returned with a rush.
Iron Star stood over the crumpled form of Cassandra. Angela’s vision tunneled, and she heard someone screaming. Her thighs bunched as she ran at the gigantic form of her enemy. Streamers of light swirled from all directions toward her. She seemed to be flying, and as she neared Iron Star, her peripheral vision began to glow.
Iron Star pulled out a huge sword, braced himself, and swung. Its arc dragged a swath of red light behind it. He moved slowly, though, and she ducked easily under the swing of the sword and continued forward to tackle her much larger opponent. When she hit him, he was not an immovable bulk as expected. Instead, he felt massless, and she drove him several yards across the crater floor, away from the pool.
Something snapped, and Angela was hovering, bodiless, over a battlefield. The roar of combat filled the air along with the stink of fear. Men, covered head to toe with mud, fought with swords. Some wore archaic armor while others fought nearly naked. Blades smacked into flesh with a spray of blood, fingers gouged eyes, and everywhere was the chaos of death.
Then she was back in the crater, her arms wrapped around Iron Star’s bulky form. She heard a clang, and then both his hands were pushing on her, trying to pry her off of him as they struggled and staggered across the crater floor.
Another snap. A Native American chief howled a challenge, whirling his axe aloft. Then with a vicious downward arc, he split the skull of an enemy. Blood and brains spattered his face.
Snap. Iron Star shoved Angela away. She grabbed his arm, twisted it, and pushed his elbow out and down. Using her body weight, she forced him down on one knee.
Snap. Now she was in another battlefield with men in blue coats fighting a ragtag mob. Most had knives out, and they fought in close quarters. There was no shouting, just grunts and groans when blades were slammed home in flesh. The sound of gunfire split the air. Two men directly in Angela’s view dropped, one with half his face gone and the other with a spray of blood from his throat. One man nearby, on a horse, was pulled down and gutted by two other men.
Snap. Iron Star heaved, and Angela was thrown to the ground. Sparks filled her vision, and the crater floor shuddered. She rolled back to her feet and squared off against him. He had his sword again, and he circled warily. His helmetless face held an expression of angry respect. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen.
He feinted a blow with the sword then stabbed at her throat. Unable to dodge, she expected an agonizing deathblow. But the tip of the sword stopped mere inches away with a brilliant flash of light. A sound, as of a crowd shouting, filled the air. She leaped back out of range and noticed that the tip of the sword glowed white-hot. Iron Star stared at it for a split second in disbelief.
Angela reached back over her shoulder and pulled her staff out of thin air. Flames crawled along the shaft of her weapon. Iron Star’s eyes widened. There was no escape as she backed him up to the edge of the bubbling pool.
Angela whirled the staff overhead with a scream and smacked the sword aside with it. There was another brilliant flash.
Snap. Smoke was everywhere, and the stink of cordite filled her nostrils. A commander ordered his men to attack, and they screamed and ran, bayonetted rifles raised. A vast rattling sound, and the soldiers were mowed down.
Snap. Iron Star’s sword whirled away, falling into the pool. A cascade of sparks erupted as it dissolved. Angela’s staff counter-spun and struck his midriff. There was another flash.
Snap. A helicopter hovered over a field, and the last of a group of soldiers leaped aboard as it began to lift off. With a deep roar, it exploded in a ball of flame.
Snap. Iron Star doubled over. Angela’s staff caught him under the chin, and the force of the blow lifted him off his feet and hurled him into the pool. With a hoarse bellow, amid a fountain of pyrotechnic light, he disappeared beneath the noxious liquid.
The ground rumbled again. Angela staggered, falling to one knee. A smothering wave of exhaustion fell on her, and she bowed her head. The sound of her breath filled her ears. When she looked up again, a bizarre assemblage of winged beings was surrounding her. Wildly varying in height, they were clothed in vividly colored light. Cassandra was nowhere to be found. Her ears rang, and her heart clenched, but the creatures each bent a knee, in unison, and bowed to her, arms outspread.
Angela rose to her feet, holding her staff warily before her. “Who are you?” Her voice echoed as if doubled.
Wings rustled, and they replied, “We are the servants of Bald Eagle. Now we have been sent to serve you, if you in turn agree to serve our master.”
Angela staggered. Her vision narrowed, and she heard a high-pitched whine that drowned all other sounds. There was a momentary taste of iron in her mouth, and then Angela’s awareness dissolved into endless white light.
CHAPTER FIFTY
War in Heaven: The War Leader
Root Hexagon, Bald Eagle
Diamond Angel returned to awareness within the crater. Cassandra’s astral body, nearby on the crater floor, had begun to disintegrate. On an impulse, she took it within her own energy body, saving it from destruction, but the effort exhausted her. When she looked up, she was surrounded by enemy angels. She tensed, expecting another fight, but they bent their knees in unison and bowed to her, arms outspread.
She slowly rose to her feet, holding the staff, which she had
been able to summon from her palace during the fight. “Who are you?” She heard odd cadences in her own voice.
The wings of the warriors rustled, then they replied. “We are the servants of Bald Eagle. Now we have been sent to serve you, if you in turn agree to serve our master.”
Diamond Angel surveyed the troops, focusing her attention while further submerging Angela’s consciousness. It appeared that Bald Eagle so highly valued having a war leader that it was extending this office to her.
She regarded the Root Hexagon, pulsing with light and power in the center of the pool that had destroyed her foe. Bald Eagle had been her enemy, but she was tempted by what she saw. There was tremendous potential to accomplish her goals by serving the great Egregore and using its tools for her own ends. Believing that she could leave Bald Eagle later if she disagreed with the terms of service, she decided to explore this opportunity.
She turned to one of the angels. “Bring me to your master.”
The angel saluted smartly, turned on its heel, and marched across the crater floor to clamber toward the lip. She followed, climbing easily, her honor guard falling into step behind her. They crossed over the crater’s edge and descended to an avenue that led to an enormous structure, the center of Bald Eagle’s power.
They arrived at the entrance, whose great door swung open automatically. Together they made their way through echoing halls. Rounding a corner, Diamond Angel saw a large, horizontally spinning vortex silently hovering over the floor. A shape was dimly visible in its center. As she neared, she was able to make out a pyramid with an eye on one face. The eye was surrounded by feathers as if it belonged to a gigantic raptor. Bald Eagle.
The angel led her to a spot before one end of the vortex where a plinth was mounted upon a dais. Diamond Angel moved to stand on the dais, and an understanding of how to position herself entered her mind. After laying down her staff, she placed her hands upon the surface before her, and she felt a stirring of forces within her.
She felt, more than heard, a voice all around her.
“You have defeated the old General, War Leader. Yours is the power to command mine armies and conquer mine enemies. This is destined. This is your fate as it has been foretold by the God.”
The air grew reddish as if seen through a filter. A powerful Presence entered the room, and Diamond Angel suppressed the urge to drop to her knees. With an effort, she addressed Bald Eagle. “Why do you believe that I shall acquiesce to your authority? I am not a part of your world.”
To her mind, in the unspoken voice of the Presence, came new knowledge so potent that it bowed her head with its weight. If there had been actual words to hear, they would have been earsplitting.
—You have opposed me for an eon. I was nearly banished from your world until the great Progenitor reawakened war amongst your people. But you destroyed his power, costing me much. Then you redeemed yourself by carrying both me and my beloved opponent into this new world. Every Egregore, every daemon, every spirit here owes you for that courageous act. Serve Bald Eagle as war leader, and you serve your destiny as well.—
There was no gainsaying that persuasive power, and she nodded her head in acquiescence. Immediately, a newfound strength poured into her from the plinth. She lifted her head and gazed into the eyes of an eagle-headed man, clothed in radiant power, who stood before the slowly turning vortex.
He approached the dais and reached out for her hand. Drawing her close to him, he enveloped her with that radiance. Though she retained her identity, her senses and her body were submerged within his vaster self in ecstatic surrender, and she gave herself wholly to Bald Eagle.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
War’s Aftermath
As water takes the vessel’s form
The Angel does to war conform;
To smite the foes of Hungry Lord
Her armies ride the raging storm.
Simon’s Apartment
Simon’s apartment was dark, as usual, and Angela banged her shin on the coffee table before she could find a light. Seeing that Simon was asleep in his chair, she resisted the urge to wake him and left quietly. Her head still swam from when she had awakened on the couch. By the time she got back to the car, her mind had cleared, but something was wrong.
Once in the car, she glanced at the dashboard clock and saw that it was four in the morning. She would go see Cassandra later. First, she needed sleep.
Traffic was unusually congested for that time of night. A belligerent driver cut her off while changing lanes, and she honked her horn.
“Who let the assholes out of the bars?” Her shout was startlingly loud in the confines of her Toyota. She honked again for what seemed to be the hundredth time as yet another jacked-up pickup truck cut her off. Then a movement caught her eye. Headlights behind her swerved suddenly, followed by the muted bang of a collision. It was too difficult to turn around, though, and she didn’t feel up to being a witness.
When she finally returned to the boat, she wearily clambered aboard, opened the companionway hatch, and descended the ladder. Making her way to the master salon, she peeled off her clothes, collapsed on the bed, and drifted into troubled sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
War in Heaven: Diamond Angel Returns
Diamond Angel’s Palace, Bald Eagle
Diamond Angel returned to self-awareness within the throne room in her palace. She extended her senses and discovered that her seat of power had relocated to Bald Eagle’s realm. Climbing into her throne, she felt great strength pulsing within her. The consciousness of Angela, independent but submerged, stirred within her, as well, feeding on that strength. Like a nagging memory, the disembodied awareness of Cassandra pushed against the constraints Diamond Angel had placed on it.
Her energy body quivered again. Diamond Angel focused her attention and opened a portal deep within herself, where the gravitational pull of the Underworld was strongest. Taking careful aim, she hurled both Cassandra and Angela into that place and allowed the portal to slam shut. She settled back in her chair, at ease once again, and gestured. An angel materialized before her throne.
“Send one embassy to Dark Eyes and another to Serpent Lion. Tell them that I decline their offers of alliance and that I am now War Leader for Bald Eagle.”
The angel raised a fist in salute and vanished.
Her new work began immediately. Diamond Angel was taken up, in vision, to a place far above Bald Eagle to gaze upon the battlefield. Countless rectangular stains on the blank ground far below resolved into legions of winged, armed warrior angels. They had been assembled to attack Silver Scimitar, whose phalanxes were visible ahead in the empty regions adjacent to Bald Eagle’s territory.
Gigantic war engines already under Diamond Angel’s command fired blazing bolts of light at the enemy. The enemy retaliated with mighty weapons that sprayed fountains of glowing fluid that dissolved the warriors of Bald Eagle where they stood. Those weapons bore the mark of Shaken Fist, the leader of the separatists, and their power was overwhelming. Dissension within her ranks broke out wherever Shaken Fist attacked, magnifying the natural strife that existed between the angels.
It was her nature to consolidate rather than to divide, so the ideological roots of Shaken Fist were monstrous in her eyes. Reluctantly, she decided that her long-term goals would, indeed, be best served by waging war in the battlefields below. She closed her inner eye and rested for a moment on her throne before taking the decisive next step.
Parapet, Bald Eagle
Diamond Angel stood upon a wind-swept parapet. She had abandoned the shape of her former self and had chosen to appear as a winged woman dressed in a high, elaborately spiked helm and ruby-red scintillating armor. Her face was completely covered but for her eyes. She surveyed her vast armies below and raised a gauntleted fist. Her voice, powerfully amplified, rang out across the realm.
“Armies of Bald Eagle! This day we go forth to fight, and perhaps defeat, the forces of Silver Scimitar as well as our separatist
enemy, Shaken Fist. Along the way we shall destroy the traitors within our realm, Serpent Lion and Dark Eyes. Many of you might not return from this fight. For those who do not, I salute you for your courage and strength. Know this: I shall fight beside you, for as War Leader, I understand that no battle can truly be fought without unreserved commitment.”
A ground-shaking shout rose from far below. She smiled, pride filling her. Turning her head, she studied the flanks of her massed armies, where she expected to see new arrivals. “We will have allies. Their strength, added to ours, will help ensure our victory.”
She pointed dramatically. “Bulldog!”
There was a far-off boom and flash of light as the way was opened for the massed armies of Bulldog. A huge, translucent image of a ferocious dog hovered over the angelic troops. The quartered flag, red on blue with white borders, was evident everywhere in that army as it merged with hers.
“Rooster!”
Another explosive sound shook the air, accompanied by the arrival of that ally. Just as with Bald Eagle, the colors blue, white, and red predominated.
“And Golden Eagle!”
The final allies arrived with a more muted rumble. There was a muttering roar from the massed ranks of her own armies. There had been bad blood between them and the forces of Golden Eagle ever since the last Great War. For a moment, a broken swastika was visible, flickering above the ranks of Golden Eagle before being obliterated by their current standard.
Diamond Angel turned to one of the angels standing nearby. “Bring me the new weapons.” Serpent Lion and Dark Eyes had given those weapons to Angela. Their power had enabled her to enter the Overworld, but now the weapons had fallen into Diamond Angel’s hands. They would allow her to penetrate deeply into enemy territory, or so she hoped.
The God of Battles Page 22