The Shivered Sky

by Matt Dinniman

  “Don't leave me again,” Tamael said, loud enough for all to hear.

  They held tight for a long time, the tendrils of their wings caressing each other, both of them rocking slightly.

  Most the angels who came with Yehppael were a kind Indigo had never seen. They were thinner and younger looking. They looked bewildered by their own weapons.

  “Damn Principalities,” Iopol muttered. “Almost as worthless as humans.”

  “Whatever, idiot,” Indigo said.

  He tensed. “I promise you, human, if you talk like that again with me, I will drop you from a very great height. Show respect.”

  But Indigo no longer listened. As they flew over the wall, she was really seeing the city for the first time. With her eyes veiled by the illusion, it was as if she was in a submarine, and the whole gargantuan metropolis was buried under the murky water and sand. But she could still see it, in all of its former glory.

  I've been here before, she thought suddenly. And it wasn't just in a dream, like Gramm. She had been here when this place was built. She had floated high above the city as they erected these buildings, as they pulled this wall up from nothing. She watched what was happening right now in the distance, beyond the mighty buildings, each one colossal enough to house a nation. The beasts were everywhere.

  Now Indigo understood Tamael's horror at Yehppael's message. They had unleashed these savage beasts upon the city in order to set themselves free. In their struggle for freedom, they had to destroy part of what they wanted to take back. Was it really worth it? Each one of these structures was a monument to the past. Each one told an infinite story, Indigo knew. They were irreplaceable.

  They angled around a building, some angels occasionally falling out of the illusion and revealing themselves. Yehppael swore at them until they got it right. The original plan was abandoned. There was a better way, one with an actual chance at success. They were headed back to some cave, they said. Other angels were there, hopefully still waiting, hopefully not killed by the demons besieging them.

  In the distance was a zoo, a flat, floating platform that at one time contained animals from both the human worlds and the various states of perdition around the rock of Cibola. Indigo had an odd memory of floating through a much, much larger park, amazed at the beasts within, big and small. She had been concerned with disease, if she recalled correctly, as were another group of angels floating behind her, all with ridiculously elaborate, jeweled robes of blue.

  Their illusion drifted through another intersection, and Indigo instinctively turned her head right, but there was something wrong. Some of the buildings that should've been there were gone now. Destroyed in the war, she assumed.

  Memories of places and events quickly came to her, but they were only fleeting snapshots. Like lightning bugs shooting from the darkness, only to disappear again. Nothing solid grasped her.

  A flight of Pazuzu streaked by. They paid the illusionary transport no heed. They appeared to be headed back to the wall, where the angels had disappeared.

  “I don't like this,” Yehppael said. “I fear for Ashia and the others.”

  Between two buildings Indigo caught a quick glimpse of a pair of red, scaly horned giants grunting and pushing against each other. Then, on the other side a big flying beast with translucent, purple-tinged skin had taken refuge on top of a building.

  “Maintain course toward the sett.” They were almost there.

  Yehppael cursed.

  A gigantic, single-eyed monster covered with quills like a porcupine raged on top of the zoo. The whole platform began to sink and crumble under the weight of the beast. Dirt and rubble cascaded down over the small grotto they needed to enter. The beast snuffled forward with some unseen mouth, trying to get into the cages or food storage.

  “The need for us to make haste is suddenly even greater,” Leefa called out. The angels all grunted with exertion as they pushed themselves to their limits. Sweat leaked down Indigo's face, finding paths to her eyes and mouth, burning. A familiar feeling.

  They were almost there. The platform above threatened to crash completely down, blocking their exit.

  “Engineer,” Yehppael called. “Send the illusion straight for that razer. Try to attract its attention with it.”

  “Yes sir,” Polsh said. The fog lifted as the holographic transport ship rose toward the giant one-eyed porcupine. The remaining drone stayed with the group.

  The monster, now so close Indigo could smell its muskiness, roared. It was a wall of quills with a waterfall of rock at its feet.

  The monster shot a whole row of quills at the illusionary ship. The long, black javelins shot through the air and pierced through the illusion, flying down the street.

  A rock the size of a baseball slipped past Iopol between his side and wing and glanced off her shoulder. Indigo called out in surprise. Above, hunks of platform the size of truck trailers rained. A pair of angels cried out as rock knocked them out of the sky. The remaining drone, the radio bot, exploded as it was hit, sending more angels scattering.

  “Hurry,” Yehppael called. They swept down toward where Ashia and the others had gone, the entrance to the other sett. There was only room for one at a time, and it was a tight squeeze. Dave and his angel pushed through, followed by a few Principalities. Polsh stayed outside to assist the angels who had been knocked to the ground.

  Yehppael stepped in, helping angels get through the tight hole with Tamael staying outside, giving them each a good push.

  Iopol dropped Indigo, roughly shoving her toward the hole. The sounds of the hail storm raged all around them. “We need to help Polsh,” Indigo said, pointing toward the engineer, who called for help as he pulled an angel from under a giant rock.

  “Suit yourself, traitor,” Iopol sneered, pushing her away and squeezing himself through. She fell, trying to pick herself up as another rock glanced off her back.

  “Get inside,” Tamael called at her. Leefa landed, pushing Gramm toward the hole, but he turned and ran toward Polsh despite her angry protests, grabbing the hand of the second beleaguered angel and trying to pull him free.

  Hitomi and Verdan were coming, the last of them to still be in the air. Indigo reached up to get Hitomi out of the angel's grip, to take her into the hole with her, but suddenly the sound of a thousand thunderclaps broke all around them, deafening. Verdan and Hitomi shot away as the platform above snapped in half and collapsed on them.

  Indigo didn't think about what she did next. With all the strength left in her, she ran straight into Tamael, who called out with surprise. The large angel was built solid like a heavy bag, but they both pitched into the hole just as the rocks crashed all around them.

  She plunged into darkness, and her ears rang with the dizzying aftershocks of the collapse. The entrance was entirely blocked off.

  They were trapped, and only some of them had made it through.

  Hitomi! Gramm!

  “No,” Indigo said, the realization hitting her like she had been blindsided by a snap kick. Polsh wasn't here either. Or Leefa. Or a few other of the angels.

  “My helmet is malfunctioning,” a voice said. It was Frish. “I can only see some of you.”

  “Who's here?” another asked.

  Some coughing from a few feet away. Indigo's eyes adjusted in a bizarre way. It wasn't like her pupils were becoming wider to allow more light. It was as if they were suddenly learning to see in a new way. A pair of angels were sprawled together. Yehppael and Tamael. It looked as if when she tackled Tamael, the angel had in turn barreled into Yehppael.

  They slowly stood.

  This wasn't a cave at all, but an underground building. An empty museum with several colonnades holding up the ceiling. Dust swirled, moving back and forth like schools of fish.

  Yehppael burst up. “We didn't all make it,” he cried, holstering his gun. “We need to get them.” He rushed to the now-blocked exit and began to pull away rocks with his hands. They fell to the ground, cracking as he ripped thro
ugh them.

  Indigo met Dave's eyes. They were fixed intently on her, pleading.

  “I think they're okay,” Indigo said.

  “I should've stayed and helped,” Dave said, his voice quivering.

  “What happened?” Tamael asked, shaking her head as she floated back up.

  “The zoo collapsed on us. Indigo saved you,” Yehppael said, digging at the rocks. “Someone help me damn it. Don't use your weapons. It'll collapse everything on us.”

  Tamael floated upwards to help him move rocks. No one else did.

  “We can't get through that,” Frish said, the slight female Power's voice uncharacteristically rough. “We need to move back. We need to seek out the other angels.”

  “I agree,” a Principality said. “If they...”

  From above came the sound of a gargantuan wave crashing across a rocky beach. A sound that didn't end. And more rock fell from the ceiling. The roar became louder and louder, like a massive train descending upon them in a cramped tunnel.

  The rest of the zoo was collapsing, just making sure they were fully and utterly buried. Attempting to crack and buckle the room they were in now.

  “Go,” Yehppael said, pointing down the long passageway.

  They fled down the dark hallway of the underground building. Rock fell all around them, and there was nothing ahead or behind them. But worst of all was the thought of Hitomi and Gramm, if they were still alive after the platform collapse, facing whatever it was above them, unprotected.

  I saved Tamael and not Gramm or Hitomi. It was irrational; Indigo couldn't possibly have done anything for either of them, but the thought still weighed profoundly on her as they took flight through the dark corridor. I saved Tamael.

  Beside her, Dave was fighting back tears. Then Indigo realized she was doing the same. She didn't want to fight it, not anymore, and she let the sobs overtake her.

  * * * *

  Do not suffer our fate.

  The Baka's words haunted Ko. As he recovered, suffocating in the much-too-large hospice bed, designed to be used by an Overseer who was no longer alive, his thoughts increasingly focused on the words of the phantom bird demon. Ko had seen him the moment after the True Light devoured his hand, had felt him and thousands of others. It was as if they had latched onto his own soul and tried to pull themselves out. But they only succeeded in taking some of Ko in. Who were they? Souls captured by the light?

  Part of him was missing, gone forever. And it wasn't just his hand.

  When he slept, he replayed the moment again and again. His hand suddenly vanished, though it didn't feel gone. Explosions, shouting, fire. This wasn't the same as his transport being fired on. This was an actual battle. He'd seen demons die.

  Would Booja still want him now, with only one hand? Would young Qulp be able to look up to him and proudly tell his friends that this one-handed fool had sired him?

  His fingers itched, tingled with a terrible ache. Fingers that weren't even there.

  The kindness Uzkiev had shown him was forgotten and lost in the marketplace, and Ko was beginning to wonder if he had imagined the whole thing. After he had awakened, the commander had been all business, complaining to the surgeon about Ko's ability to do his work with only one hand.

  The surgeon, a Kostchtchie, shook his head. Even if he bled the wound, Ko's hand probably wouldn't grow back. If it did, it'd be a gnarled useless limb, a caricature of what it once was. The surgeon casually suggested euthanasia, especially if Ko was just an assistant. Ko was sitting right there when he said it. It was well known that plenty of Geyrun workers were available. A crippled one couldn't compare to an able-bodied, entirely subservient Geyrun, fresh from the Overseer world.

  Uzkiev had nodded. “I'll think on it,” he hissed, floating away with Ascot whispering in his ear.

  At least he had come. That meant something, he supposed.

  Ko asked about what had happened with the humans and angels. The surgeon's assistant, an old Geyrun named Ulnar (but with the blotched markings of the third Overseer world, which meant he was a fourth or fifth generation slave—efficient workers but unreliable to say the least when it came to gossip) told him about the incredible events following the attack at the Spire. The shockwaves were still reeling through all of Dominion-controlled Cibola. Thankfully, the angels responsible had already been captured, sent off for interrogation. A pair of humans had been caught, too. Maybe even the ones who had taken his hand. Likely already executed.

  It really was rather relaxing. While they wouldn't allow him to fall into the full hibernation he craved, he found it was nice to be catered to. The staff, other than the rather rude surgeon, had impeccable manners. They were, after all, hand-picked by Ko to serve as the Overseer's personal medical staff. They hadn't been dismissed yet, and perhaps pampering Ko was their way of thanking him. Despite the threat of euthanasia, he was starting to enjoy himself here. Such care was a rare luxury for a Geyrun.

  He chatted often with a Dahhak supply technician on the hospice staff. He was a rather chatty fellow, but not unpleasant at all. He wasn't prone to bragging, either, which was almost like a congenital disease for the demons. He was still spending most his free time in the temples, studying their archaic religion.

  This Dahhak was inordinately curious about the ancient Geyrun custom of bleeding animals for the solstice, but Ko didn't know enough to tell him. The enslaving of the Geyrun had eradicated the practice. Which was for the best, anyway. The Geyrun soon learned the occasional flashes of light didn't kill because some unnamed god was unhappy. Not any god to them.

  Apparently, students of Molochism learned as much as they could about other religions. Ko really wasn't sure why, and he didn't bother asking. He had given up on trying to learn every oddity about the other races. The Dahhak with their religion, the Daityas with their love for all things mechanical, the Sedim and their insatiable urge to bear offspring. Their differences were what made the Dominion strong. For every weakness, another had a strength that compensated.

  He made the mistake of asking if they had found many new worshippers since the occupation. It was just idle chat while the Dahhak was in the room, restocking the supplies.

  The answer would change everything.

  “Oh yes,” the Dahhak answered fervently. No matter how different this Dahhak was from the others, one thing was the same. They all were devoted fully to their religion. “The Nemat are always coming into Moloch's grace. And we get a few worshippers now and then of every species. Mite, Gorgon, Asag, even Charun.”

  “Charun?” he said, chuckling. “That is truly surprising.”

  “It surprised me as well, but I saw it myself. Just twelve prayer rotations ago...” He trailed off, turning away abruptly. He went back to stocking the supply cabinet, suddenly very quiet.

  Ko was used to matters like this. He had stood by the Overseer too long not to recognize it immediately. This sort of thing was surprisingly common. Dahhak or Charun. Mite or Baka. Human or angel. They were all the same in this manner. Those who wouldn't stop talking eventually said something they shouldn't. Always.

  Why should he care? Ko thought. What would anyone care about a Charun joining the church of Moloch, except maybe other Charun? These matters weren't against any rules. Ko was even aware of their ridiculous blood sport—the Overseer had tried to get it shut down, but the council had said it was to be ignored. So, why then?

  Then it hit him. The Catechist was certain Ungeo G'sslom hadn't left the city. Nonetheless, the investigators couldn't find her. The Charun had to be holed up somewhere. Of course. It seemed so obvious that he mentally smacked himself. Sanctuary.

  “Oh, don't worry,” Ko said to the Dahhak, his mind thinking a thousand things at once. “I know all about the Charun, Ungeo, and her conversion.”

  The Dahhak stopped working, frozen. “You do?” He turned from his work at the cabinet. An odd look of calm filled the Dahhak's face.

  Of course I don't you fool. Just two seconds ago I was surpr
ised that any Charun could be converted.

  “How is she doing, anyway?” Ko asked, trying not to sound too eager. This deception was oddly thrilling. Blatant lies had been a favorite pastime of the Overseer, but other than keeping his mouth shut, Ko was rarely asked to participate. I can do this, he thought. It wasn't too hard.

  The Dahhak looked to make sure they were alone. They were. “She is a fast learner,” he whispered, stepping forward. “She even speaks to the Acolytes, giving them lectures on how to convert all of the infidels to Molochism. She is already highly regarded, even though she only has one victory. Two, really. Her ideas are spreading.”

  Ko took as many mental notes as he could. It was almost too ridiculous to believe. He giggled. He had only met the Charun once, but he seriously doubted the mid-commander was sincere in any attempts at the Dahhak religion. No way.

  “What do the other Dahhak think about her ramblings?”

  “She makes sense. Why shouldn't the Dominion consist only of followers of the one true faith? Moloch teaches that those who do not follow his path are infidels who must be destroyed.”

  “But ... Your leaders agreed that in order for all of us to prevail against the angels, we must settle our differences, especially theological ones.”

  The demon shrugged. “The Charun believes that is why the Dahhak have suffered so many losses of late. This policy has angered Moloch.”

  “She wants to convert all of the Dominion?” That was ... alarming. It would be amusing if this Dahhak didn't seem to be so enraptured with her.

  “Would a Geyrun like yourself be willing to bring yourself into Moloch's grace?”

  “No,” Ko said truthfully. “And I doubt many of my kind would. How does she plan on having that happen?”

  That's when he saw the needle in the Dahhak's hand. His heart ran cold.

  “Then they must be brought to Moloch in alternative fashions.” The Dahhak slipped the protective sleeve off the syringe.

  Ko sighed. He was a bumbling fool. How stupid I have been. I'm no spy. Of course the Dahhak knew I was the one searching for the Charun. My name is on every dispatch. Idiot.