A Mystery of Light

by Brian Fuller

  Someone was using Speed nearby, the accelerated footfalls coming right for him. A desecration field slid under him. In his peripheral vision, he could just make out the red aura of a Dread to his right. A torching blast washed over him, then dissipated. The Dread stepped forward, big sniper rifle in hand. The soaked clown uniform revealed a woman’s body.

  And she’d used two Dread Bestowals. It was a Loremaster—Aclima or Jumelia.

  He Hallowed the ground, and the sniper rifle fell from her hands.

  “Helo,” Aclima said, voice sad. She tore off her clown wig, the big red nose already gone. With an angry pull, she yanked off the clown top and armored vest beneath it.

  “Aclima!” he said, mind racing. “Get your heart. Throw it somewhere out here so you can’t find it. I can’t keep this hallow up much longer.”

  “No,” she said, sinking to her knees. “I won’t do this anymore. I won’t be his slave.”

  Getting her hands under Helo’s back, she rolled him over and rummaged through his pack.

  “What are you looking for?”

  She let him go, and he rolled back over. She had a Stinger.

  “No, Aclima. No! Listen to me.”

  “It’s over,” she said. She reached out and touched his face. “Thank you. Thank you for believing.”

  She drove the Stinger into her chest. Virtus nearly gone, Helo extinguished his hallow to keep her from pressing the plunger. Then she wasn’t Aclima anymore. She tore the Stinger out of her chest and tossed it into the undergrowth before grabbing his BBG out of his holster and shooting him twice in the heart. The bullets punched through his compromised armor and turned what little was left of his chest to jelly.

  Like an automaton, she flared her Strength and picked him up, carrying him honeymoon-style through the darkness, down, down, down, toward the river.

  “Aclima,” he pleaded. “Wake up! It’s me. Aclima!”

  She just stared blankly ahead. Off to the right toward the farmhouse, the war raged on, the echoes of gunfire bounding through the forest. What could he do? He closed his eyes. He had one play left—a dangerous play.

  “Sparks,” he said, trying to bend his head to activate the comms unit in his ear. “Sparks!”

  “This is Sparks. Go.”

  “Aclima,” he said. “She’s got me. She’s going to the river about two hundred yards from the farmhouse. You have hallow?”

  “On my way.”

  Sparks would kill her, but he had to convince him not to. Sparks ran in from their right, someone else with an aura trailing him. Aclima dropped him and turned toward them. With what was left of his Virtus, Helo let loose the last of his hallow. Aclima dropped him as the hallow overtook her.

  “Hallow the ground!” Helo yelled.

  Sparks jogged forward and took over just as Helo felt his Virtus run out, the radiance of Sparks’s hallow spilling around them. Sparks kept his BBSG trained on Aclima’s head. She fell to her knees, a resigned relief smoothing her features.

  “I’ll get a Stinger,” Shujaa said, tone reverential.

  “No!” Helo said. “Aclima, we can—”

  She leaned down and kissed him, holding his head in her hands. “It has to be this way. I can’t go on doing this. You tried, Helo. I tried.”

  A numbness stole over Helo’s damaged heart. He was not going to let this happen. But what could he say? What sacrifice could she make to show her worthiness to bear the calling of Ash Angel again? There was only one.

  “Listen, Aclima! Listen to me right now. I need you to do something. Put your anger on the altar. Sacrifice it to me. Burn it away. You love it. Love me more.”

  Her breath caught. “Helo, you are the best of men. You deserve someone—”

  “I deserve nothing. I choose you!” he yelled. “I know who you are. I know what you’ve done. And I choose you! And if that’s not the best damn pickup line you’ve ever heard, then throw me in the river right now.”

  Tears poured down her cheeks, and she leaned down again, dark hair veiling his eyes, shutting out the world. Her lips found his, and she kissed him deeply. Gunfire, mud, and the broken forest faded away, and somewhere in the caress of her lips he felt her, felt her like he had before.

  “I’ll be damned,” Sparks said.

  Helo opened his eyes, and there she was, an Ash Angel and not a Blank anymore. Her aura glowed in the fading light, to him like the burning of a thousand suns. He laughed. He cried. She kissed him again, and healing—her first and only Bestowal—flowed from her lips into his body, his heart pulling together again. He willed it to beat for her. The holes in his body closed, and the holes in his mind and soul seemed to close with them. He was whole again. There was light, and never again would he let the darkness drag him down.

  She pulled away, and while he might never know despair again, he saw in her eyes that sadness was not far off. Somewhere in her penetrating gaze he finally understood that if he would love her, really love her for her sake, he would have to let her go. He could not risk losing her to Avadan or some Dread or Sheid. He could not force her to stay with him and endanger her soul. She would leave the mortal world while endowed with celestial light.

  “Not tonight,” he said.

  “No,” she said, tear sliding through the streaked clown makeup on her cheek. “Not tonight. In the morning after the sun rises, you will take me to the river. I can never repay you. Never.”

  They stood, Sparks and Shujaa sober-faced witnesses.

  “You give us your word,” Shujaa said. “You will pass on tomorrow.”

  “I give you my word,” she said.

  “I am going to take her away from this battle,” Helo said, “so there’s no chance she gets captured or torched. Contact me when it’s over, and I will bring her to the farmhouse. Shujaa, Melody’s been torched. She’s just over the hill.”

  “I will find her, Angel Born,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Helo said. “Sparks, you’re in command of—”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said.

  The two sprinted back toward the sounds of battle, and Helo took Aclima away from it, heading downriver. She stopped and washed as much of the clown makeup off her face as she could in the dark water before taking his hand. It was hard to see anything, and the going was slow, but he didn’t dare risk a light. Her aura was a dangerous signal in the night as it was.

  “How are you still here?” she said. “You were supposed to ascend.”

  “I am Helo the Unascended, stuck here until some purpose is fulfilled. Maybe you were it.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “There is much work to be done.”

  “I’ve been working, believe me.”

  She squeezed his hand. “That’s the problem, Helo. There is more to the afterlife than work. I don’t think you get to ascend until you understand that. So, who is Melody?”

  “That’s right!” he said. “You wouldn’t know. It’s Tela!”

  “Did you awaken her into all of this hell?”

  Finally, someone who agreed with him. “No. Goliath did. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t even know until a few days ago. She got torched for the first time. But she killed Whirlwind. Avadan’s going to be pissed about that.”

  Aclima stopped him. “Helo. It’s worse than you think.”

  “Is he gathering Vexus?” Helo asked.

  “He’s had it in his prisons all along,” she said as they resumed their walk through the forest. “He’s been gathering it for centuries, it seems. Lately, he’s used Jumelia and me to transfer it for him.”

  “You know where?”

  “Sort of,” she said. “He blindfolded us, but I’ve got a good idea.”

  “And the kidnappings?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think he’s looking for an Attuned, maybe more than one. I think he’s going to make a Sheid again, maybe one even more powerful than the last. But I can’t be sure. He’s throwing away Dreads and Possessed on this battle with the Ash Angels, and I can’t figure o
ut why. It’s like he wants to be a king with no subjects.”

  Figuring out why was always going to be a problem with Avadan. “You don’t think he’ll do what Cain did and provide King with a body?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “Why would he need an Attuned for that? I don’t know. He’s my son, and he’s a mystery to me. Can we not talk about this anymore? I think we are far enough away. Find somewhere we can sit, and just hold me. For the time we have left, I just want to feel. It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt anything.”

  Six hours passed before Sparks found him on comms. It was hard to leave the bower they had found. It was hard to walk toward the sound of soldiers scouring the woods, their flashlight beams darting through the shadowy trees. It was hard to walk by the river and know that in a few hours Aclima’s ash would wash down the slow current and out of his life. How many Ash Angels had been lost that day? How much ash had the water already borne into the light?

  Ahead of them, an Ash Angel walked out of the woods carrying a bundle of clown clothing. Another fumbled with an awkward load of rifles. Red clown noses still littered the forest here and there. They’d probably never find them all. The destruction to the forest where Whirlwind had rampaged was indescribable.

  They crossed the bridge, river gurgling underneath it, and headed toward the brightly lit farmhouse. Besides a broken window and a few bullet holes, it had fared pretty well. Inside the south barn, a long line of mangled and torched Ash Angel bodies awaited the healing touch of Rapture. He spotted Andromeda among them, lying on the ground without much of a lower half.

  The unmistakable smell of chocolate chip cookies hung around the house.

  Aclima smiled. “Cookies. That is a great idea.”

  “I doubt they’re as good as yours,” he said, “though I think you chopped my head off before I could enjoy them.”

  “You deserved it.”

  He opened the door, finding several Ash Angels huddled around the coffee table in the living room, a big plate of chocolate chip cookies and glasses of milk spread around. Martha and Spade had returned to their farm clothing and were puttering around the kitchen. Shujaa, Sparks, and Finny sat on the couch. Archus Magdelene and Grand Archus Mars had taken the sofa. And there was Melody, sitting on the fireplace hearth, not quite recovered from the torching. Her eyes were still unfocused, still inward. Back hunched, she had folded her arms and was rocking back and forth. He wished he had some Virtus he could spare to Inspire her. It didn’t seem like she’d even registered he was there.

  Everyone was dirty and soaked, but Martha didn’t seem to care about the damage to her furniture. Eyes followed Aclima inside. Magdelene smiled, eyes brimming.

  “See, Spade,” Martha said. “It does work out sometimes.”

  They grabbed some cookies and milk, and he and Aclima bracketed Melody on the hearth.

  Helo took her hand and put a cookie in it. “Eat, Melody. It will help.”

  Melody blinked. “Helo?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and wept. “Make it stop. Make it stop.” Aclima rubbed her back, and after a few moments she quieted.

  “Eat, Melody,” Helo said.

  She nodded and nibbled on the cookie, eyes focusing and unfocusing.

  “Helo,” Grand Archus Mars said, “we owe you a debt for killing that Sheid. It couldn’t have been easy.”

  “I didn’t kill it,” he said. “Melody did.”

  “Are you serious, Angel Born?” Shujaa said.

  “Yes.”

  Sparks chuckled. “So we have Sicarius Nox and seasoned Michaels and the Cherub gets the job done. Brilliant.”

  Helo related the story of their fight with the Sheid and how he and Aclima had reunited. “As for Sicarius Nox,” he continued, “Argyle froze up. He had to be . . . dealt with.”

  “I shot him twice in the head,” Sparks said.

  “I encouraged it,” Helo said. “I take responsibility.”

  Sparks folded his arms. “No, mate. This one’s mine. Would have done it without your say so anyway.”

  Mars straightened on the sofa. “Enough, gentlemen. You two did what had to be done. I had ordered him over the hill, and he wouldn’t reply. We’ll get Sicarius Nox sorted later.” Mars grabbed a cookie and settled back. “Now, Aclima, I hope you know we can’t let you walk out of here. If you ever turned back . . . well, we can’t risk another Loremaster.”

  She nodded, still rubbing Melody’s back. “I know. Helo will help me pass on after the sun rises.”

  Silence fell for a few moments.

  “See, Martha,” Spade said. “It never works out.”

  Mars relaxed and bit into his cookie. “Aclima, what can you tell us about what Avadan is doing?”

  “Gathering Vexus,” she said. “Well, moving Vexus around. He used Jumelia and me to do it, taking it from his prisons, where he’s been building it up behind Cain’s back for ages. He was very careful not to let me see where the final destination was. I know it was in Kansas City or in the nearby towns. It seemed like we were stopping at a fair number of stoplights, so I’m guessing downtown somewhere.”

  Magdelene stood up, phone in hand. “I’ll get with my contacts in the Old Masters to see if they can help.”

  “We can handle this ourselves,” Mars said. “I’ll send a recon squad out at first light.”

  Maggie continued dialing. “More eyes won’t hurt.” She wandered off into the house.

  “What about the kidnappings?” Mars said. “Why does he have the Ghostpackers let them go?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I told Helo he might be hunting for an Attuned so he can make another powerful Sheid. Not sure how they choose their victims or how they can even tell if one is Attuned or not.”

  Mars stood. “If you think of anything else that might help, let us know. Right now we need to clear out and get back to Camp Zion. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Today was a victory, but it cost us. I want to use our momentum to turn this around. We’re not going to rest until I have Avadan’s heart on a barbecue.”

  Chapter 20

  Down to the River

  The first contingent of Ash Angels left the Foundry just before dawn, a stream of glowing auras weaving through the trees and disappearing over the hill. Helo and Aclima trailed behind them, shepherding an improving Melody with them. Shujaa, Sparks, and Finny walked ahead of them. The banged up Faramir and Andromeda would come later. Aclima kept her arm under Melody’s arm, and Helo the other to keep the torched young woman from stumbling when her concentration wavered.

  Sparks glanced back at them. Again. Helo wondered what caught his attention. Probably the sight of Aclima, who tended to draw men’s stares wherever she went, even when she was a bit of a mess like she was now. Melody kept rubbing her eyes and shaking her head like she was trying to shrug off a vicious uppercut from a heavyweight boxer. He hated seeing her like that. He hated seeing anyone like that, but Melody? If only she would have listened to him. At least she understood now. Maybe she wouldn’t be so gung ho about sprinting off to fight anymore.

  “What are you thinking?” Aclima asked.

  He turned his gaze from Melody to her and smiled. Aclima’s aura. He didn’t think he’d fought harder for anything in his life.

  “I don’t like seeing her like this,” he said. “You remember how she was in that hotel with the nightmares? It’s like that all over again. At least this will go away in a few minutes. I don’t know. I just wish she could have had a normal life singing and making albums and signing autographs. I can’t shake the feeling that I brought this on her.”

  Melody rallied for a moment. “It’s not . . . it’s not your . . . fault.”

  Seeing her struggle made him feel worse. He knew exactly what torching was like.

  Aclima nodded. “She needs to have the gift of the Angel Born.”

  “I’d give her mine if I could,” he said.

  Sparks glanced over his shoulder again.

  “Is there a problem?”
Helo asked.

  “No,” Sparks said. “Just keeping an eye on my six. Good habit to get into.”

  They descended a steep slope in the weak predawn light, mice scurrying into the underbrush surrounding them. At the bottom they connected with a gurgling stream, and Aclima eyed the water hungrily, as if she couldn’t wait to put an end to it all and escape with her aura into the next life. He hated it. He respected it. He wished they could postpone it.

  Rapture.

  As one they stopped and drank it in, the first blushes of dawn suffusing the green leaves and punching shafts of light through the breaks in the trees. It didn’t fill him like it did when he meditated, his mind and heart too crowded. Today was destined to be a day of loss and emptiness, and there was no holding it back. Some losses you fought off; some you let in.

  Melody straightened and smiled, her haunted looks of the last few hours erased. “Glad that’s over.”

  “There’s our hero,” Aclima said, squeezing her hand. “You killed one of the most powerful Shedim ever created.”

  “Thanks,” she said, beaming. “Helo and I did it together.”

  “And a pack of C4 and a lot of luck,” he said. He was never going to let her get that close to a Sheid again.

  He found Aclima looking at him with a speculative expression. “Helo, do you mind if I talk with Melody in private for a bit?”

  What could the two of them have to talk about? “Why?”

  “Let me rephrase,” Aclima said. “Melody and I are going to talk in private for a bit.”

  “Got it,” he said. “I’ll fall back a ways and mind my own business.”

  “Thank you,” Aclima said, winking at him.

  He couldn’t hear their conversation, but it lasted a long time, all the way until they arrived at camp. Melody wiped her eyes several times, plucking wildflowers along their way. Their conversation ended when the two hugged by the Sicarius Nox tents, Melody throwing him a tearful smile as she jogged away toward the clearing where she had performed a couple nights ago.

  Aclima returned to him, face at peace, eyes alive with some thought.

  “So what was that all about?” he asked.