by Wall, Nathan
“I hope you die…” Hermes wailed.
Set nodded. “All will in due time.” He stood and took Sif by the hand. The female Assassin dried her tears as they vanished into pink light.
Athena slid to Hermes’ side, distraught.
“I’ve often wondered how you’ve grown.” He grimaced. “As a baby you looked like Hera, but now I see your father written… in… your… eyes.”
“Don’t talk,” she cried. “Your armor will heal you.”
“Not… from this.” He leaned into her lap. Austin, who was dragging an unconscious Harold by the feet, and Lian stood behind Athena. Hermes cupped her hands. Inside their grasp a purple flicker ignited. Aurascales drained from his body and formed into an egg shape. “As an Angel-born, you’ve no star of your own to shield and protect you. Take this and with it accomplish the great things you were born for.”
“No. I won’t.” Athena shoved it back into his chest. He wiped the tears from her eyes and sang the melody her mother would when she was an infant. As his grip on the starstone weakened, so too did the force of his words. The slate-gray egg rolled out of his grasp and over to Horus’ landing feet. Athena sobbed. “I wish I was never born. My life has caused nothing but pain to all I’ve ever loved.”
“Tis love which makes pain worth bearing.” Horus laid the starstone in her lap. “For existence isn’t worth creation without love, and love itself cannot be without sorrow. We honor those who came before us by completing the visions they set forth. Otherwise, we doom ourselves to extinction without purpose.”
Jarrod stepped away from the group. Stress lines blanketed his face. “Those are wise words.”
“They’re not mine,” Horus replied. “There my uncle’s. The one who didn’t just try to kill us.”
I know our purpose, Jarrod, Ryan whispered so as to not let Lian hear. Do you?
Chapter Forty-One
Jarrod VII
After arriving in Paris, Lian commandeered an apartment with a central location for their base of operations. The television reflected across Jarrod’s face while the others argued in the kitchen several feet away. Harold was tied to a chair in the middle of their circle.
“I’ll enter his mind,” Lian said. “Find out what’s going on.”
“No, we saw how that worked on the train,” Austin protested.
“I’m adept at information extraction,” Horus said. “It’ll be seamless.”
“This is my friend,” Athena argued. “We do not know if he is himself.”
“What’s wrong with his skin?” Lian asked.
“He smells rotten,” Austin said, gagging. “Seriously, like he’s decaying.”
“You’re all fools,” Harold said with a groan. “My joints are stiffening.”
“What’s wrong with your soul?” Horus examined him closer.
“He’s dead,” Jarrod said, listening to the wiser voices in his mind. “I was too self-absorbed earlier to pick up on it. Harold’s soul is trapped inside his decomposing body.”
“Harold?” Athena whimpered, covering her mouth. “Can you fix him?”
“Set’s counting on it,” Harold chuckled. “He wants Jarrod to consume more souls and unleash the freak, be it mine, an innocent civilian’s, or, more likely, one of his friends’.”
“We’re all here.” Austin clutched Harold’s throat. “You gonna bring them back?”
Harold squeaked something, but Austin’s grip snuffed it out. Horus pulled Austin’s hand away.
“Speak,” Horus insisted.
“It wasn’t me they followed.” Harold stared at Horus. “It was the crystal you left behind. It’s attracted to your starstone.” He laughed at the worried expression Horus gave. “Get over yourself. The crystal is broken, but they know where you’re headed. I’m sure they’re in the city by now.”
“Do they know why?” Horus asked.
“They haven’t the foggiest.”
Lian furrowed her brow. “He’s hiding something.” Austin rolled his eyes. Lian huffed. “What do you expect?”
“For you to listen,” Austin replied.
“This is taking too long.” She slapped Harold. “Out with it.”
“I’m not hiding anything, you just haven’t asked the right questions,” he laughed.
Athena laid a hand on his knee. “Please.”
“Oh, don’t give me them puppy-dog eyes.” Harold swayed, stamping his foot. “Fine.” He looked over to Jarrod. “Did you forget someone, ol’ blue eyes?”
Jarrod took a second to think about what he meant. It couldn’t be. She left well before Horus even got there. Jarrod sprang from the couch, lifted Harold with one arm, and slammed him into the wall. The plaster caved in and splintered. Harold was beside himself with laughter.
“How?” Jarrod reared back and slammed Harold into the wall again, breaking studs. “TELL ME.”
“Who’s he talking about?” Horus stood to Jarrod’s right.
“Anyone else concerned he’s about to blow his lid?” Austin asked.
“I’m in control,” Jarrod snarled. He spun and slammed Harold onto the floor. The table and chairs jumped from the vibration.
Lian gasped. “They’ve got Claire…”
“She went back for you.” Harold couldn’t budge Jarrod’s grip. The fading soul inside him longed to be absorbed. Jarrod considered it. “You’ve no idea how much I hurt.”
“I can imagine.” Jarrod squeezed, breaking Harold’s skin. It would be easy. Kill Harold and see his memories firsthand. The more difficult, and right, thing to do was to back away. Despite the craving, he did.
“They were able to track Horus’ movements. They must’ve scoured your hideout moments after you’d left. That’s when Claire arrived.” Harold sat up, rubbing his neck. “They’d already killed me. But they returned me. I was in… this light with souls everywhere. They plucked me from oblivion and shoved me back. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
“I’ve heard of this,” Horus said. “Sobek taught me. A soul must be supported by a living shell. The degenerative process of death corrodes the soul, making it no longer itself.”
“Demons occupy dead bodies all the time.” Athena helped Harold over to a chair and dabbed his neck with a washcloth.
“Demons are a different breed.” Horus patted Athena on the back “The other side of the soul coin, if you will.”
“Set didn’t kill me,” Jarrod divulged. “He had a chance. I begged him to. He wanted me to absorb the souls of the innocent civilians… to goad me into what he called a ‘worthy’ fight.”
“Claire’s as safe as she’ll ever be until they find you, mate,” Harold reassured him. He tried to stand, but his hips were locked in place. “Rigor mortis’s been delayed long enough, it seems.” A pale blue shine washed through his cheeks, showcasing his gooey black veins. “Set me free. Please.”
Athena conjured a dagger and put it against his throat. “It will be over soon.”
“No.” Jarrod pulled her away. She struggled but Horus steadied them both. “You let him go and I can’t promise I won’t snatch him. And if I don’t snatch him, they’ll be attracted to the soul or absorb him into that light he talked about. Either way, he’s theirs.”
“You’re gonna leave me in ’ere?” Harold drooled and hacked.
“Yeah.” Jarrod stood over him. “Depending on how long you’ve been dead, you’ve got some time. It’s gonna be excruciating, but seeing as they’ve enabled your body to keep going, it’s the safest place to store your soul for the time being.”
“You twat.” Harold spit on Jarrod’s face. “Y’know you want to devour me.”
“I do.” Jarrod nodded. “But I won’t.” He stepped toward the back of the room. The words of his mom, stressing that the world would have to deal with whatever he’d become, looped in his head. What would he become? “I need some fresh air.”
Jarrod stood out on the third floor balcony. Morning arrived and his stomach was in knots. He kept repeating
Claire’s name, over and over. She loved him too much. There was no way she’d really leave him behind. The noble thing was to encourage her to live a normal life, but maybe the right thing was to support her choice: him. Though they weren’t visible, the bells of Notre Dame made themselves known as they chimed seven times. Jarrod knew the Assassins lingered somewhere just around the corner.
After about half an hour of solitude, the sun stretched its coral fingers through the close-knit pedestrian streets of the Latin Quarter. The smell of hot and fresh pastries danced its way up to him from the bakery across the street where the baker’s wife and triplet toddlers had the first pick of the morning batch.
“Care to know what we decided?” Austin asked, opening the window to step out onto the balcony. He leaned against the railing with his back to the street.
“Claire’s safe as long as they don’t find me. I’m riding the bench.” Jarrod continued staring at the three kids, all curly blonde girls, stuffing their faces with éclairs just inside the shop window. “You gonna be at the museum before opening?”
“That’s the plan.” Austin shook the morning chill from his arms. “You remember a few years back, we had that stopover in Stuttgart on our way for deployment in Kabul?”
Jarrod nodded with a slight grin. He remembered. They’d landed in the middle of the night with just three hours to prep for the next leg. Jarrod had insisted they take in some sights, as if there would be something worth doing at two in the morning.
Jarrod laughed. “The major and those two hookers in the alleyway behind the pub.” He slapped Austin’s arm. “I won’t say that sight didn’t have its perks, such as less mop duty, but I don’t completely agree that our troop saw significantly more patrol time, either. His wife was a babe too, and those skanks... woof. What was he thinking?”
“You just had to take a picture,” Austin laughed. “What possessed you to do that?”
“I had to have something to remember the occasion by.” Jarrod leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees.
Austin’s grip wrung out the tension along Jarrod’s spine. What loomed ahead came back into focus. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Ryan’s odd silence meant something.
“And here we are. The most traveled-to tourist destination and we’re just stopping by on the way to something even bigger than before.” Every moment that saw his friends in their predicament had been triggered by him. If only he’d made different choices along the way, maybe they wouldn’t have been sucked into this. “What I wouldn’t give for y’all to see the world from atop the Eifel Tower like every other tourist. Instead you’re doing this, with what seems like the fate of mankind once again in the balance. At least we got to stop and briefly take in the sights and smells.”
“You didn’t mention a key part.” Austin sat.
“That would be?” Jarrod tilted his head, looking at his life-long friend.
“When my life was darkest and we’d spend days baking in the Afghan sun…” Austin paused, choked up. “You said ‘if you don’t take a break, I don’t take a break. That’s how it’s been for both of us since before I can remember’.”
“I did.” Jarrod nodded. He covered his face. “And I’m sorry you feel compelled to return the favor.”
“Compelled? Hardly. I do this willingly.” Austin moved for the window and opened it. “I used to take your devil-may-care attitude as arrogant. But that was never the case, was it?”
Jarrod shrugged.
Austin ruffled Jarrod’s hair. “You’d leap without looking because that’s what we needed. If you weren’t putting things in motion, none of us would’ve lived long enough to be here, so to say you deny us a normal life is absurd. The only reason we get to wake up to the chorus of bells from Notre Dame is you.”
“Be careful out there. I promised I’d look out for you.” Jarrod sat up, his face now dry. He ached to come clean about a secret he’d longed silenced. “I never told you that I’m the reason you never said goodbye to your parents. I hid your phone as a joke. Your father screaming your name has haunted me ever since.”
“You think you’re the only one who ever made a promise?” Austin asked. “Aunt Liv asked the same thing of me. Oddly enough, it’s like she could see the future.”
“She could,” Jarrod quipped under his breath.
“She told me, before shipping to basic, a day like this would come. I thought she spoke in generalities, but she meant today. There would come a time when I would have to force you to act against everyone else’s best interests and protect you from yourself.” He knelt, turning Jarrod’s head up to make eye contact. “Let someone else be the hero today. We all know the guy you are inside. If we lose you, the real you, then Heaven can’t help us.”
“Just remember,” Jarrod replied, firmly clasping his friend’s wrist, “there’s no real me without the rest of you.”
“You don’t have to convince me to come back in one piece,” Austin laughed. “I want to live.” Austin moved inside to bid farewell to Lian before leaving with Horus.
“We will make quick work of our mission and return promptly,” Horus said to Jarrod, leaning against the inside wall. “Do you still wish to be left in isolation after I uncover the chariot? You would be of much better use to the cause if you were in control of your powers, rather than left on a planet to die alone.”
“I’m not sure there is any controlling them.” Jarrod turned his attention back to the three small girls. “The best thing for your cause is not me.”
“So be it.” Horus left.
The bells sang once again, declaring that yet another hour was upon them.
Chapter Forty-Two
Set V
Hundreds of recently deceased souls wandered aimlessly. The burning train cars still housed several screaming voices. As the yelp of a woman ceased, one more soul manifested. This mess would be difficult to clean up, and harder still to explain. It was all part of the plan.
A rift zipped through space-time and Raphael emerged with several of his most trusted direct reports. Uriel was among them. Raphael looked displeased, which was understandable, but amusing nonetheless.
“This is low profile?” he asked with a pug-faced scowl.
“I don’t show up at your job and tell you how to do it.”
“And you further insult me by talking back.” Raphael acted like he was going to slap Set. They both knew better, which probably left Raphael feeling jilted further. “Did you at least kill him?”
Set shook his head. “Before you spout off again, I know my theory will work.”
“How are we supposed to clean this up without Michael being drawn to the numbers?” Raphael grumbled. “A soul spilled here or there is understandable, but this many will heighten his urge.”
“Did you bring the Light?” Set asked, motioning with his head for Raphael to follow. Sif and Raphael’s lieutenants tagged along, but were halted by Set’s ominous frown.
“Indeed.” Raphael unhinged a pentagon-shaped artifact from his aurascales. Inside was a radiating blue sphere. A key to the Light of Souls had been forged. One had to be dumb to not be attracted to its power. Raphael held it away. “Like I’d give it to you.”
“Are we not partners?”
“Please,” Raphael laughed. “This is merely an alliance of convenience. Don’t act like I know not of your true intentions.”
“My loyalty to Lucifer has never faltered.”
“I’m no fool.” Raphael walked circles around Set. “Neither side was ever appealing to you. Tell me why you had me construct this and we’ll go from there.”
Not getting his hands on the Light’s key posed a problem. Set would need it to complete his mission. Nevertheless, emotional beings like Raphael could be tipped one direction or another by subtle suggestions.
“Activate it,” Set insisted. Raphael was skeptical. “Seriously. Just briefly, though.”
“It’s encoded to my print.” Raphael grinned. “Lest you get any funny ideas.” He p
ressed his thumb against the blue core. The pentagon opened along several slits. The souls wandering aimlessly were drawn like moths to the flame. Once touching it, they fused into the artifact. Raphael was in awe. The souls vanished and the pentagon sealed. “A portable key. How did you know?”
“Schematics I’d examined before the Light of Soul’s construction. With that, we can reap the dead.” Set nodded for Sif to approach. “Now Michael won’t be drawn to the chaos we inflict, unless he’s watching or called.”
“How interesting.” Raphael reattached the pentagon key to his aurascales and removed another device. He wiggled it in front of the Assassins. “Do you know what this is? I had the idea when booting Gabriel from Heaven.” Set and Sif both shook their heads. “Oh, Istheal?”
A cupid, one of Raphael’s recently trained henchmen, marched over and stood at attention. “Yes, sir?”
“Nothing. Just wanted your assistance in a demonstration.” Raphael squeezed the device and Istheal collapsed into the fetal position. His agonized scream boiled Set’s blood. Istheal’s aurascales were ripped from his flesh and vanished. “At any moment, I can sever your bond with the Deliverance. You’d be less than human.”
“The reason behind the display of power escapes me.” Set remained calm in order to chafe Raphael’s pride. He knew full-well the message Raphael intended.
“Don’t!” Raphael yelled, shaking from trying to hold back his anger. He took a deep breath. “Don’t mock… me.”
“I would never,” Set proclaimed with satirical reverence.
A few angels chuckled but quickly went silent in response to Raphael’s cold grunts. He put the Deliverance remote under Set’s nose. “I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“I wouldn’t either… if I were in your wise and clearly more powerful and enviable shoes.” Set remained calm with his hands folded behind his back.