A Mystery of Light

by Brian Fuller

  Aclima answered by hugging him fiercely. “I had no idea what they put you through because of me. I am so sorry, but at the same time I am not. I can’t believe I am here with you. I can’t believe I have an aura. The only thing I regret leaving behind in this world is you.”

  “I’ll be along soon, I’m sure.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  He swallowed hard, eyes stinging. “Is it time?”

  “Almost,” she said. “Melody is getting something for me. She is a bright girl, Helo. Don’t weaken her by over-protecting her. Teach her. She has a heart as big as the world. She looks up to you and needs your strength, not your walls.”

  He nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

  “For a while,” she said. “You still have an afterlife to live. If there’s anything I would have you do, this is it: Live, Helo. Really live.”

  Melody returned holding a white sheet and a tall bottle of water. Aclima pulled herself from his embrace.

  “Where’s your tent, Helo?” Aclima asked.

  “Just by that tree there,” he said.

  Aclima took Melody’s hand. “Will you help me?”

  Melody nodded, a tear slipping down her face.

  “Thank you,” Aclima said. “Helo, wait for me on the road. Do you know a place where the water is deep?”

  “I do.”

  He walked absently to the rutted road, the morning sunlight gathering its strength, the birds welcoming its return with song. A breeze whispered to him, caressing his face, and he closed his eyes and tried to drown out the sounds of the men and women around him. Their talking seemed irreverent, their bustle an ignorance of what was about to happen. A woman who had spent six thousand years on the earth as a Dread Loremaster would leave it an Ash Angel. Could they feel what it meant? It was the promise, the promise that anyone could change.

  All too soon, Aclima emerged from the tent dressed in a makeshift white robe fashioned from the sheet Melody had brought to her. A hole had been cut in the middle, the sheet draped over her, and the sides tied shut with strips of cloth threaded through holes. She had washed her face, all the mud from the battle cleaned away. Her dark hair streamed behind her as she walked out to the road, shoulders straight, head high.

  She was beautiful, a barefoot angel ready to return home.

  Helo shed his backpack and all of his implements of war, wishing he was as clean as she was. Melody walked in front of her holding a bouquet of wildflowers, her katana strapped to her waist. Aclima beckoned him over with a glance, and when he came, she took his arm. His throat felt swollen, his eyes hot. He guided her down the road and into the woods, down the path to the river where Mars and Magdelene had briefed Sicarius Nox the day before.

  Perhaps he’d been wrong about the Ash Angels in camp, for as they passed, they seemed to understand and joined the procession, Sparks, Shujaa, and Finny behind them like an honor guard. The line grew behind them, a divine train of Ash Angels coming to the river.

  Melody’s voice broke through the forest. Some of the entourage knew the song and joined in, Lear’s complementing voice rising rich and reverent into the air.

  As I went down in the river to pray,

  Studying about that good old way

  And who shall wear the starry crown,

  Good Lord, show me the way!

  O sisters, let’s go down,

  Let’s go down, come on down.

  O sisters, let’s go down,

  Down in the river to pray.

  As I went down in the river to pray,

  Studying about that good old way,

  And who shall wear the robe and crown,

  Good Lord, show me the way!

  O brothers, let’s go down,

  Let’s go down, come on down.

  Come on, brothers, let’s go down,

  Down in the river to pray.

  Aclima stepped slowly down the trail, a contented smile on her face, her almond eyes ahead as if anxious for the water to reveal itself. The trail slanted gently down a hill into a hollow choked with dark plants and swarming with insects before rising again and cutting around the hill. After one last descent, the warm morning light cascading through the small clearing of the beach hit them all at once, causing them to squint.

  Melody stopped at the riverbank. Aclima stopped next to her and released Helo’s arm. Behind them, Ash Angels filled the shore and stood on the wide rock by the water’s edge.

  Aclima squeezed his arm. “I want both of you in the water with me.”

  Helo nodded, and the three of them waded out into the gentle current, the silent cliff watching over them as they worked their way to the pool at its feet. Motes and spores floated and danced in the light, a golden ray falling across Aclima’s hair. She had morphed to that innocent girl he’d glimpsed in Cain’s mind so many months ago. A curious dragonfly zipped about them as if to pass judgment on the three newcomers to its territory.

  Aclima faced the Ash Angels on the shore and took Helo’s hand. Then she nodded to Melody. Melody handed the flowers to Helo and slowly unsheathed the katana, fighting the tears in her eyes. Solemnly, carefully, Melody slid the blade through Aclima’s heart. Helo flinched, but Aclima stood as still and immovable as the cliff as the blade sliced through her chest, tearing the sheet on the way out of her back.

  Melody pulled the sword out and sheathed it. Aclima embraced her, whispering something in her ear. Melody smiled sadly in return and nodded, taking back the flowers and wading to the riverbank. Helo took Aclima’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply, the sensation as alive as anything he had ever felt as an Ash Angel, as sweet as it was bitter. They embraced again.

  “I didn’t deserve your love,” Aclima said, “but thank you for giving it. No man has fought harder for my soul than you. I have one more gift I hope I can give you, if God wills it. Look for it. And please just accept it.” She exhaled. “It is time. I hope there is enough mercy for a wretch like me. Lay me down.”

  Helo closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, staring into hers. With a hand around her waist and another on the back of her neck he lowered her gently down into the cool, alive embrace of the river. As the water enveloped her, she closed her eyes, the edges of her lips turning up. And then she was gone, the sheet and the ash of her passing tugged away by the glistening water, borne down the river. Melody tossed the flowers on the current, and they fanned out, chasing the ash, following them around a bend until they were no more.

  Was his mission done? Would he ascend like Rachel now that he had accomplished his purpose? No. He knew he wasn’t done. He knew the gifts he’d been given weren’t just for Aclima’s redemption. Avadan was a monster, and there would be no peace until the Loremaster was a pile of dirt. That was his purpose now. His mission. Then he could ascend and maybe find Aclima somewhere in the light.

  For several minutes he stood in the water, peering downriver to where it bent in the trees and disappeared. The river babbled calmly all around him, the strident song of the birds rising above it as if to remind him there was work to do. But not today. Today he would grieve. Today he would try to get his heart back in order so tomorrow he could give his full attention to wiping evil off the earth.

  By the time he turned and headed back to shore, only Sparks, Lear, and Melody remained. What could Sparks possibly want?

  Lear and then Melody hugged him. “Come see me,” she said, and then she and Lear headed up the trail to the camp. Helo went to the rock and lay on it, legs dangling over the side. The day was clear and blue. Sparks hadn’t moved. He was still standing near the water, eyes on the river.

  Helo sat up. “What do you want, Sparks? You afraid I’m going to run off again?”

  Sparks didn’t seem to hear the question, and after a few moments he turned his gray hunter’s eyes on Helo. But there was something else in his piercing stare now, something that almost seemed like doubt.

  “I was wrong,” he said. Then he turned and marched back do
wn the trail.

  Sparks was just one of a mob of people Helo wanted to say “I told you so” to, but he didn’t have the heart for it. It was like Dolorem had said: The Ash Angel Organization had forgotten about the soul. And not just of the Dread but of the Ash Angel as well.

  Helo laid his head back on the hard stone and closed his eyes. There had been a handful of times he had missed the ability to sleep, and this was one of them. Sleep was a sweet forgetfulness, a rest from pain. Eternally awake, he had to face the empty feeling in his heart with nothing but faith and the river’s song to fill him.

  How long he rested, he didn’t know, but someone approached on the path. He sat up to find Archus Magdelene walking across the beach toward him, red hair flowing in the breeze. She hoisted herself up on the rock and sat by him in silence for a moment.

  “I’m sorry I missed her passing,” she said. “From what I’ve heard, it was beautiful. It’s all the camp can talk about.”

  He nodded, finding a pebble and tossing it into the river.

  She smiled. “Your dedication to saving her—it was beautiful too. It was . . . well, inspiring to everyone. Look, you know Mars isn’t much on apologies, so I’ll say it.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said.

  “It’s not for you,” she said. “I need to apologize for my sake. Since the beginning of your association with Aclima, the leadership of the AAO has treated you with suspicion. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t kind. For whatever part I played in that, I am sorry.”

  He threw another pebble in the water. He really didn’t want sympathy or apologies, and Magdelene had always been sensible and fair, in his view. “What’s the plan now, boss?”

  “Right to work?” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he returned.

  She scooted off the rock and faced him. “Good. We need you. I was there at Zion Alpha when it fell. That’s where we lost Gideon and Joan. That Sheid just tore everything apart. Avadan brought in these two trucks with mobile water tanks to drown us out there in the desert. I had to stuff Mars in the ductwork and take his heart to save him. It was the lowest I’ve ever been as an Ash Angel. I’ve been hoping and praying and thinking that something had to turn the tide. You’re it, Helo. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I knew the moment you returned to us. And after seeing you with Aclima, I’m sure.”

  He nodded, hoping he could live up to her expectations.

  “Look, Helo,” she continued, “this victory was costly but very valuable. Avadan lost his Sheid and a horde of Dreads and Possessed. But best of all, we were able to track his retreating Dreads. We think we know where he is.”

  “I’m in. Just point me in the right direction.”

  “There’s a meeting tonight at twelve thirty in the command tent. Be there.”

  “I will,” he said. Then he remembered Cassandra’s assignment from his failed ascension. “Also, Cassie told me to say hi.”

  Magdelene’s face brightened. “You saw her again?

  “When I ascended—or didn’t, as it turned out. She’s still Cassandra.”

  “What did she say?”

  Helo explained about the “performance review” but left out some of the details. Magdelene didn’t need to know about them teasing him for his romantic failures. The Archus smiled the whole time.

  “I miss her,” she said, “especially at times like these. Thank you for sharing that with me. Well, I’ll leave you to mourn. Remember, twelve thirty.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “See you there.” She crossed the gravel beach, but before she went into the woods she turned. “Helo?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t call me ma’am.”

  “Got it.”

  After she left, Helo sat cross-legged on the rock. Meditation would substitute for sleep, a simple way to distract himself and empty his mind and heart. Getting the image fixed in his head took a lot longer than usual, sadness and what-ifs constantly intruding, but after a final push of will, the sun blazed in his mind, the perfectly bright ball orbiting around it. Eyes on the sun, his vision turned to light, and the peace of focus settled over him like a warm blanket. If only he could stay until the hurt was gone.

  “Angel Born.”

  Helo’s eyes flicked open. Shujaa stood by the rock, face concerned. Afternoon had aged into evening, the light orange and warm.

  “What is it?”

  “There is a gathering at the clearing,” he said. “There is news. I thought you would like to be there.”

  Helo nodded and slipped from the rock. “Thanks. I thought the meeting wasn’t until tonight.”

  “This is something else,” Shujaa said as they passed inside the shadowy trees. “This is, I think, a celebration.”

  A celebration. Helo harrumphed inwardly. He supposed it was a victory, even though it didn’t feel like it to him. His tactical mind knew morale was important, but his heart wasn’t in it. Still, Aclima would have wanted him to go—forced him to go. He just wanted the next mission. And the next. And the next. No more empty moments. Just purpose.

  As they neared, the hum of conversation seemed to lack an identity. It didn’t feel like the chatter for a victory or the solemnity of defeat. It was an odd mishmash of the two, bittersweet. For the first time that day he really wondered how many Ash Angels had met their end in the lazy river at the hands of Dreads.

  Helo leaned against the same tree as when he had watched Melody perform a couple of nights before. Shujaa parked behind him like a statue, arms folded. Out in the crowd, he spotted Melody toward the front near Archuses Mars and Magdelene. Every now and again an Ash Angel would wander by and briefly talk to her, shaking her hand or giving her a hug. Congratulations for killing Whirlwind, he guessed. She deserved it. It had taken a lot of grit to pull herself up and jump into that pit, more grit than he would have expected a pop singer to have.

  Lear, along with a number of Ash Angels he didn’t know, slapped him consolingly on the shoulder on the way by. The sympathy and respect in their eyes was a relief, much better than the suspicion and disdain he’d always endured for believing Aclima could change.

  “Let’s get started, people,” Archus Mars bellowed above the crowd. Everyone snapped to attention. “Take a seat everyone. You’ve earned it.”

  Helo settled in against the tree, Shujaa maintaining his vigil from behind him. Toward the back of the crowd, just inside the shadowy trees, a trunk half hid the lonely figure of Argyle. Helo shook his head. How was that going to play out? The commander of Sicarius Nox had simply lost it, and if Helo understood it right, Argyle had disobeyed orders to keep from getting into the thick of the fight. What would they do with him? Helo could only imagine what the man thought of himself.

  “Okay, folks,” Archus Mars said. “First off, we won!”

  Cheers and claps erupted from the clearing, and Helo added a few claps of his own. Melody was staring at him but turned away when she saw him staring back.

  “So, here it is,” Archus Mars continued. “This was the worst battle any Ash Angel alive has ever seen, and probably the worst one for generations. Avadan threw his Dreads and Ghostpackers and hell’s own Sheid at us, and we beat them back. The Foundry was untouched. There might be a lot of confused meteorologists right now, but the sun shone on the river that took many of our brothers and sisters away. Let’s take a minute of silence for those who were lost.”

  The congregation stood. Hats were doffed and heads bowed. Helo closed his eyes and leaned his head against the tree. He had lost Aclima but gained her back, in a way. As important as the destruction of Whirlwind was, the aura around Aclima was the sweeter victory.

  “Thank you again, everyone,” Mars said. “Have a seat. Before we continue, we need to recognize the Ash Angel who really got the job done today. Melody, come up here.”

  Melody stood to raucous applause and picked her way to the front. Helo knew she was used to crowds, but she folded her arms and smiled nervously.

  Ma
gdelene put her arm around her as Mars continued. “Melody here used a katana sanctified by the Old Master”—and Helo could tell it hurt him to say it—“Dolorem, who raised her. From what I understand, she cut the Sheid down as he was about to relieve Helo of his head. Isn’t that right?”

  She nodded and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear while the crowd whooped.

  “Now,” Mars said, “because you have contributed to this great victory, you’ve earned your choice of assignment. Where would you like to serve? I think every commander here would take you on for your singing alone.”

  Helo knew what she was going to say before she said it.

  “I want to fight in Sicarius Nox.”

  Some clapped. Some whistled. Some cheered. Helo wanted to throw up. Why was she doing this? She had just gotten torched. Badly. Surely she should know now that mixing it up with Shedim was not where she belonged. It hurt him to think of her slack-faced and shaking. She was so innocent. What had she seen when the torching sent her down into the mud? What could sear a clean conscience like hers?

  Grand Archus Mars nodded. “Well, I think we’d all like to see a few more Bestowals on you, but you’ve earned it. Your commander may want you to train a bit more first, but we know you’ll be an asset wherever you go. Now, have a seat, and we’ll get to the good part.”

  Melody returned to her seat to a lot of cheering and high-fiving. She threw Helo a glance. It was getting dark, so he doubted she could see his not-happy face from across the clearing.

  “I will watch over her for you,” Shujaa rumbled quietly from behind him.

  Helo looked over his shoulder at him. “What?”

  “I know you well enough,” Shujaa censured. “You care for her, so you don’t want her to do anything useful. It’s stupid, but since she is determined to be useful, I will help keep her safe.”

  Helo doubted anyone’s ability to stay safe or keep anyone else safe. “Thanks.”

  “Lucky us,” Sparks said, walking up from somewhere. Finny followed. “We get to fight Shedim and babysit a Cherub. Still, it’ll be nice to have another woman on the team, right, Finny? Maybe Faramir will keep his gob shut a bit more.”