Confronting the Fallen

by J. J. Thompson

  Chris watched as the judge and Rabbi Eddleson walked off into the gloom. The rabbi had been so quiet since they'd arrived that Chris kept forgetting that he was with them. Gone were the jokes and casual manner. The rabbi's expression was both grim and thoughtful.

  “So, which way, Chris?” Natalie asked. She also had a flashlight.

  “Am I the only dummy who forgot to bring one of those?” Chris asked in exasperation.

  Natalie stared at him curiously, then reached around, unzipped a side pocket of his pack and handed him a flashlight. “You packed your clothes, Chris, but the essentials were added by the staff later. You didn't know?”

  Chris shook his head in embarrassment and switched on the light.

  “Well, don't sweat it. It's standard procedure on official assignments for staff to make sure we haven't forgotten anything, and to add it if we have.” She winked at him. “We're just kids to them, you know, even if we do have angelic souls.”

  For once, Chris was grateful that someone still thought of him as a kid. It was a relief to have his own source of light and not depend on others. He looked around at the other pairs and saw a portion of the shrine that was still dark.

  “That way, I guess. No one picked it and the judge said we're in a hurry.”

  “Sounds good. Let's move.”

  The air was still cold and smelled of stone dust and cobwebs. Old, Chris thought. This must be what really old smells like.

  He waved his flashlight across the floor. Puffs of dust rose with every step and small cracks criss-crossed the stone surface. Chris shone his light on another pillar they were passing and it too was covered with tiny, precise carvings.

  “Why would anyone do this?” he asked Natalie in a hushed voice. It didn't seem appropriate to speak loudly in this place that felt so much like an underground cathedral.

  Natalie was looking all around, shining her light on any flat surface. “Beats me, Chris,” she said, sounding distracted. “A cult? Angel worshipers maybe? Although I've never heard of that. I'll tell you one thing; they must have had a lot of time on their hands. This place might have taken centuries to dig out. Not to mention those etchings.” She shook her head in disbelief.

  As they reached what seemed to be the middle of the shrine, a large, intricately-carved dais rose out of the darkness. It was perhaps ten feet across and four feet high and detailed pictures had been cut into its surface.

  “Wow, Chris. Look at that.” Natalie approached the structure and ran her fingers along the front of it. “It must be some sort of altar. And I'm pretty sure that this is marble, not native rock. Just look at the carvings.”

  Chris walked up next to her and stared in wonderment at the altar. Angels, that's what covered the front of the marble. Angels, but not the cute little cherubs that he was used to seeing in pictures. These angels were definitely more realistic.

  “My God, Nat, they're fighting.” And so they were. Angels hacking at each other with swords, with axes, grappling with their bare hands. It was all out war. And their expressions weren't loving or peaceful. What Chris saw on most of their faces was berserk rage. Hatred. Loathing. It was frightening.

  “It's the end times, Chris,” Natalie said soberly. He turned to stare at her, lighting up her expression with his flashlight.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it's a depiction of the final battle. The fight for Heaven itself. Look closely at the carvings. Only one angel in each pairing has feathered wings. The others are all webbed. They're fighting demons, Chris.” She paused and her voice seemed to catch in her throat. “And they're losing.”

  He turned back and looked carefully at the angels on the altar. Natalie was right. Some of the angels had bat-like wings. He felt a chill run down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold air. In almost every scene, the true angels were losing. One had multiple slashes across his chest. Another had lost an arm. A third, and here he felt a sharp pain in sympathy for the carved angel, had lost her wing. The demons were winning.

  “Who the hell would carve something this grotesque?” he said in outrage. “Isn't this a place to worship angels?”

  From out of the darkness, the judge and Rabbi Eddleson suddenly walked up and stood next to the altar.

  “No, Chris,” the rabbi said darkly. “It is a shrine for the worship of Hell.”

  Chapter 17

  Chris stared at the rabbi. “I beg your pardon?” he said faintly.

  “It's a demonic temple, Christopher,” the judge said, confirming the rabbi's statement. “Follow me, please. We found the picture of Sariel.”

  The two men turned and started back the way they had come. Chris and Natalie hurried to catch up, exchanging worried glances as they walked.

  The other team members converged on their location when the judge called out to them. And then Chris stopped and found himself facing a wall with a huge twenty-foot tall painting of Sariel. It was almost exactly the same picture that the judge had shown him in his office. His ancestor had been a good artist.

  “Wow,” was all he could say.

  “No kidding, Chris,” Natalie said as she stared up at the painting. Whoever had painted the picture had covered it with some sort of clear, shiny material; to protect it, Chris assumed. It looked almost new. No fading and only a few cracks where the stone had shifted slightly over the millennium. Beneath the figure, many lines of tiny writing were inscribed across the rock.

  He narrowed his eyes and stared up at the face. As in the picture he had seen earlier, there were no details there, just the outline of a face covered by a hood. But somehow the judge's ancestor had missed the eyes. There were two glowing eyes, that from where Chris was standing seemed to be actual blue gems; maybe sapphires. And three small lines crossed the nondescript face diagonally.

  'Sariel, are you seeing this?' he asked his inner self. After a moment, he repeated it. There was no answer. 'Sariel?' Nothing. Chris looked over at the judge and tapped his forehead. “He's not taking calls,” he said, a bit worried.

  “Sariel isn't answering?” At Chris' nod, the judge frowned and looked back at the painting. “Interesting.”

  “Perhaps he is embarrassed, Chris,” the rabbi said sharply.

  “What? Why should he be embarrassed?”

  “Because the judge's ancestor only drew one part of the painting,” the man replied. “Perhaps he was rushed, or simply didn't think it was important.”

  “Or perhaps he didn't want to believe it,” Judge Hawkes said quietly.

  “What are you talking about?” Chris asked, mystified.

  “Look there,” the rabbi said and pointed to the right of the painting with his flashlight. Immediately, everyone else pointed theirs as well and the section of wall blazed with light.

  “Oh my God,” Natalie muttered in shock. Chris just stared.

  There were two more enormous figures next to Sariel. The one furthest away was an obvious demon. Webbed wings, its hooded head covered in flames and a long jagged knife clasped in its hand. And between Sariel and the demon was an angel. But it wasn't standing like Sariel and the demon. It was kneeling, both hands clasped to its face. And its wings were lying on the ground beside it, severed. It was one of the saddest things that Chris had ever seen.

  He stared at it for a few minutes and then looked at the judge. “I don't get it, sir. It's a very sad picture but what's it mean? And what does it have to do with Sariel?”

  Natalie was looking at him as if he'd just said the dumbest thing ever. He felt himself blush and then said defiantly, “I'm sorry but I really don't get it.”

  The judge didn't answer. Instead, the rabbi looked at Chris and, seeing his obvious confusion, answered him gently.

  “Chris, that is obviously Sariel. And the one at the end can only be the great betrayer, Satan. So who do you think that is in the middle?”

  Suddenly it all clicked in Chris' mind. “Wait a sec,” he said. “That can't be Michael! He wasn't involved in the fight between Sari
el and the devil. Sariel said he stopped his brother from attacking God. He cut off his wings. He...” His voice trailed off as he stared at the image of Michael. “Oh damn,” he said. “It was Michael? He attacked Michael? But why would he do that?”

  “Precisely, Chris. Why would he?” The judge spoke as he looked at the pictures. “This is altogether new. We've never heard of this before. And now we have to question all of our preconceptions. Is this why Sariel was banished from Heaven? Did he leave on his own, as he claims, or was he cast out by God, as Satan was? Are he and his demonic brother enemies? Or allies?”

  “No way,” Chris averred. “Not a chance. Sariel may not be lily white, but he isn't evil. If he was, that would mean I am too. And I'm not.”

  Aren't you? a little voice inside him whispered. It wasn't Sariel, it was his own self-doubt. Look what you did on the street. All those times you say you only did “what you had to do”. Good excuse. Isn't that what Sariel says too?

  Judge Hawkes turned away from the pictures and looked intently at Chris. “I don't doubt you, Christopher.” His voice was firm and Chris felt a rush of relief and gratitude. “There is more to this story, yes. But you are a reflection of your inner angel and you, young man, are a good person. This,” he pointed at the middle painting. “is obviously a lie. History rewritten by those who created this place.”

  The rabbi made a little noise of dissent but when the judge glanced at him, he reddened. “You're right of course, Ethan. Christopher could not have entered the Nest if he were truly evil. Angelica only passed our wards with your permission.” Then he smiled at Chris. “And I've heard Eliza and her brood love you. Animals see clearly, Christopher. Sometimes more clearly than man.” He reached out and gripped Chris' shoulder firmly. “Forgive my momentary doubt. I should have known better.”

  “Thanks, sir. I appreciate that. I'm going to talk to Sariel and get to the bottom of this. You have my word.” Chris looked up at Sariel's picture again. “I just wish I knew what happened to him.” He stepped up to the wall and touched the cold surface. “Ouch! What the...”

  The jeweled eyes glaring down at them all suddenly blazed with blue flame. All around them the shrine shook and dust filtered down from the ceiling. And as Chris looked down at his hand, he saw that his middle finger was bleeding and the ring on it was shining with the same blue light that was being emitted from Sariel's eyes.

  The rumbling continued and Chris saw the team members staring up at the ceiling in fear. The thing could come crashing down on them at any minute. And on top of the deep vibration, Chris heard some loud bangs coming from the direction of the stairs.

  “What going on?” he asked the judge loudly. The man looked over at the torches that marked the stairwell.

  “I think we're about to have company, Christopher. And I think you've also received a sign that a sword piece is very close. I doubt it is a coincidence.”

  Chris was almost jerked off his feet as his arm swung around of its own volition. It was pointing across the shrine toward the far-off altar. “Um, at a guess I'd say we go that way,” he said half-jokingly.

  “No kidding, Einstein,” Natalie giggled nervously. “Let's move it before we have company.”

  “Good advice.” The judge looked at the security team. “George and Beatrice, I want you to go back to the stairs. Keep watch. If we have intruders, don't engage. Come back to us and we'll take it from there. Understood?”

  Both of them nodded and raced off toward the stairs.

  “Everyone else, follow Christopher.” He nodded at Chris who began to walk quickly, allowing the ring to lead him.

  As he thought, they ended up standing in front of the altar. As they reached it, his arm dropped to his side and Chris tried to rub the numbness out of it. He looked down at the ring and saw that he was still bleeding. He shook his hand and tiny droplets of blood scattered across the dusty floor.

  “So where is it, Chris?” Natalie asked. The others walked around the structure, examining it with their flashlights.

  “I have no idea, Nat. I just followed the ring, remember?”

  “Oh great. A scavenger hunt,” she said sarcastically and she began to run her hands over the front and top of the altar. A cloud of dust rose from the top and Natalie backed away, coughing. “Even better, a dusty, dirty scavenger hunt.” She wiped off her face and kept searching.

  Chris just stood there and stared at the many fight scenes. What's different here, he wondered. What am I looking for? He had the feeling that he was expected to do something or notice something, but he had no idea what it was. 'Come on, Sariel,' he thought urgently. 'A little help here?' Still nothing. Okay, he thought. My inner angel is officially a pain in the ass.

  He began to circle the altar as several of the other team member were doing. Chris looked at each pairing closely but except for the fact that every single angel was losing, which he found very distressing, they weren't really that much different from each other. So what am I supposed to see? And then he reached the back of the altar...and there it was.

  “Um, guys?” Chris said excitedly. “Look at this.” Everyone hurried over to stand next to him and shone their flashlights at the spot where he was pointing.

  “Chris, what exactly are we supposed to be looking at?” Natalie asked. She sounded like she was straining to be patient.

  “Don't you see it? There, in the corner.” He pointed to a small carving almost lost in the many pairs of fighting angels.

  Natalie crouched down and shone her light on the little picture, “Well, what do you know? It's a sword.”

  “Exactly. A sword.” Chris knelt down beside Natalie. “'Scuse me, Nat,” he said and she moved to the side as Chris contemplated the carving for a moment. Then he reached out and touched the stone with his bloody ring.

  Blue. The stone shone blue, deeper than any shade of blue that Chris had ever seen. And inside of the blue, the stone faded and became opaque, as if turned to crystal. Chris could see a small compartment through the clear stone and when he pushed against it, the stone shattered with the sound of tinkling glass. He reached in and pull out the contents. Then he slowly stood up and opened his hand for everyone to see.

  It was a rod, about nine inches in length. It was silver in color with braids of gold woven through the metal. At one end was embedded the biggest, bluest sapphire that Chris could imagine. At the other end, the silver was broken off and jagged shards of metal gleamed dangerously.

  “What is it, judge?” Chris asked. “A rod?”

  The judge reached out and ran his fingers above the length of metal. Chris saw that he was careful not to actually touch the object.

  “No, not a rod, Chris. It's a hilt. The hilt of Sariel's sword.”

  “A hilt?” Natalie sounded confused. “Isn't a sword hilt suppose to have like a guard on one end? You know, so it's shaped like a cross?”

  “Normally, Natalie, swords often do. But Sariel told Chris that the sword had broken into three pieces. The hilt, the crosspiece and the blade. And this is the hilt.”

  “Huh. Pretty enough, I guess but not exactly awe-inspiring, is it?”

  Chris had to agree. Still, it was the first piece and that was something. 'I hope you're happy about this,' he thought to Sariel. There was no reply but by now Chris hadn't expected one.

  “Well, that task is done,” the judge said briskly. “I hope to come back here one day, but for now...”

  A suddenly clattering of footsteps startled them all and they looked over in time to see George and Beatrice stumble to a stop next to the altar.

  “Footsteps, your honor. A lot of them. They're in no rush but we only have a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, Beatrice.” Judge Hawkes looked at the team. “We're in a bad spot, obviously. Only one way in or out, no defensible position and I'm guessing that we'll be outnumbered. We may as well stay here, keep the altar to our backs. Team members; weapons please.”

  As Chris watched, startled, the security team dropped their
packs into a pile off to the side, pulling out weapons as they did so.

  Most of them were swords, silver and gleaming with a moonlight kind of glow. Beatrice held two long knives while the other woman, Ramona, pulled out a flail; a nasty looking weapon with a silver spiked ball hanging off a chain and attached to a long handle. She looked very experienced with it. They all look experienced, Chris thought.

  The judge turned to the rabbi. “Rabbi Eddleson, do you have time to prepare?”

  The rabbi smiled grimly. “I am prepared, judge. I will wait for the proper moment.”

  Judge Hawkes nodded. “I leave that in your capable hands.” Then he looked at Natalie. “Gloriel?”

  “On her way,” Natalie replied. She smiled at Chris. “Talk to you later, my friend.”

  “Um, yeah. Okay,” he said hesitantly and then shielded his eyes from the bright, glorious light that blasted out of Natalie in all directions. And where she had been standing, stood Gloriel.

  Chris caught his breath. She was the tallest angel he'd seen yet. Not as big as Sariel had been when he confronted Anna for a moment in time, but much taller than Janariel and Astriel. She towered almost ten feet high and wore a silver breastplate, intricately carved. And her wings weren't pure white like the other angels either. They shone a bright, shiny copper. In fact, they almost looked metallic and as she turned to face the distant doorway, Chris thought that the sound of the feathers rubbing together was like metal on metal. Obviously, her wings weren't just wings; they were weapons.

  “Welcome, Gloriel,” the judge said warmly. “It's been a long time.”

  She turned and looked down at Judge Hawkes. It was Natalie's face, though much larger and her black eyes glinted like onyx. Chris was confused because, instead of Nat's short bob, Gloriel's hair hung down her back in waves almost to her waist. It made her look even more different.

  “Too long, Ethan,” she said in a resonating voice. She looked into Chris' eyes and smiled. He felt a wave of warmth permeate his entire body. “My thanks to Sariel for his healing, Christopher. Natalie was beyond my own powers to heal. Now we are whole again.” She turned back toward the door and her wings swept up above them and spread wide, the feathers ringing like wind chimes. “Now we can fight!”