by BJ Sheldon
“Guys, this is Gavyn. Long story short, he’s a cocky Hybrid with a god complex, and he’s here to help,” I explained.
Rami appeared as if he was about to say something, but I quickly interrupted.
“We don’t have time for a lot of questions, guys. We’re going to need to leave in a bit to meet up with Arna. Gavyn, if you know how to handle one of these, take Grace outside and show her what to do.”
He nodded obediently and motioned for Grace to follow him outside. I bent over and dug a few boxes of ammo out of the bag and slapped them into Grace’s other hand, which only spread the look of panic on her face. She made her way to the door and stepped outside, Gavyn close behind.
“I’ll join you,” said Rami. He jumped up and hurried toward the door, following them both out, closing it as he left.
Dorian and I were alone.
I crouched down again and dug through the weapons bag searching for anything we could bring with us.
“So, what did she say?” asked Dorian.
“Who? Mina?”
“Yeah. Mina.” He strolled over and crouched next to me and picked up one of Sam’s old knives that I’d laid out on the floor. He balanced the point of it on the tip of his finger.
“Nothing. She…wasn’t there,” I replied.
Dorian’s face scrunched up a bit. “Wonder where she was.”
I shrugged. “Who knows. I’ll catch up with her another time.” I pulled out a few more knives and studied them, carefully checking the edges to ensure they were sharp enough. “So, did Mina have anything to say when you went back to grab the sabre?” I asked.
Dorian continued to balance the knife on his finger and didn’t look my way.
“No. Not really,” he replied. “She handed me the sabre, I said thanks, and she shut the door. Come to think of it, she didn’t say anything to me at all.”
Was he telling the truth? Or was he lying to me? I felt sick to my stomach. Just the fact that I had even the slightest concern that Dorian was responsible for Mina’s horrific death caused me a great deal of guilt. How could I not trust him? How could I possibly think he’d be capable of doing something so heinous?
But then he hadn’t exactly been acting like himself. And the incident with Rami was still fresh on my mind. Was he capable of unjustifiable murder?
Arna’s voice suddenly pierced the silence inside my head.
“Skyy. It’s time,” he uttered telepathically. “See you soon.”
Chapter 19
Rami opened a portal and we all stepped through, including Grace who handled her first experience with ease, acting as if she’d been through hundreds of them before. Once the last of us was through, the portal closed behind us. Arna was waiting at the base of the tower where the trail began. The only things piercing the surrounding darkness were the stars themselves.
Arna led the way up the hill with the rest of us in tow until we reached the part of the path that forked to the left and to the right.
“Which way do we go?” I whispered.
“I don’t think it matters,” replied Arna. “From what I saw earlier on my way in, either direction will keep us on the same path. It just takes us around the tower itself.”
“Left it is.” I took the lead and marched down the path. Rami and Grace held flashlights and pointed them at anything that could be a hiding place. We remained silent for the next fifteen minutes, nobody making a sound except for the crunching of leaves and twigs below our feet.
“Skyy.” Arna’s voice called to me from inside my head. “We need to talk.”
“Now?” I replied mentally. “And if it’s about Dorian, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want. It needs to be addressed. I can feel that there’s something wrong. He isn’t himself.”
“Fine. Let’s say for the sake of argument that you’re right. What do you want me to do about it? Tell him to pull his head out of his ass?”
“That’s enough, Skyy. I’m very serious.”
“And I’m sick to death of all this talk about Dorian. He’s going through a rough patch of sorts. I’m sure that’s all it is,” I replied. I knew I wasn’t being honest with myself, but I wasn’t about to let Arna in on my doubts.
“I know about Mina.”
I didn’t reply.
“She is dead.”
“I know.” I wondered how Arna had found out.
“Then you must know I feel that Dorian is responsible.”
“Of course, you do,” I snapped. “Ever since he came back you’ve been suspicious of him. Why is that, exactly?”
He paused. “I have my reasons.”
“Not good enough.”
“I don’t trust him. Skyy—I’ve known him much longer than you. Believe me when I tell you that I’d know better than anyone if Dorian wasn’t acting like himself. And I can tell you…something is wrong.”
Our conversation ended abruptly. Arna had spoken his peace, and I didn’t want to hear it. There was a part of me that knew Arna was correct…but my heart wouldn’t be able to cope with the truth if he was right.
“Skyy.” Dorian’s call broke the silence. I stopped and turned around to see what he wanted as he brought up the rear of the group. “Where have I seen that before?” he asked. There, a few steps from the edge of the path, I found myself staring at a familiar sight.
I stared at it for a second or two. It didn’t take long to remember what Dorian was talking about.
“It’s the tree from my painting…of Devils Tower,” I replied. “It looks exactly like how I painted it.” I turned and looked at Dorian. “It has to mean something, right?”
The rest of the group realized we had stopped and gathered around us.
“What is it?” asked Arna.
“That tree. There’s a piece in my collection that I painted about six months ago of Devils Tower…and this tree.” I pointed in its direction, gazing at it, studying every ugly curve and crook. “This tree was front and center. There must be something to it. It has to mean something.”
Arna appeared to study the dead monstrosity in front of us, his expression one of curiosity.
“Everyone. Spread out,” ordered Arna. “Keep your eyes open.”
“Care to tell us what we’re looking for?” asked Dorian.
“No idea. But I’m sure we’ll know it when we see it.” Arna paused and shot Dorian a deliberate look. “Dorian. Gavyn. Why don’t the two of you keep heading up the path? The tree could just be a distraction. We could be on the wrong track completely here.”
“Me and pretty boy? Together? Are you serious?” asked Dorian with derision. “How about Skyy and I go investigate, and blondie here can stay with you?”
Arna stared Dorian down, clearly unhappy with Dorian’s insubordination. It was a stand-off and neither wanted to lose. But Dorian wasn’t easily intimidated.
“Forget it, man. I’m not going anywhere with him,” said Dorian, standing his ground. “I’d rather have my fingernails ripped out by Satan himself than wander off with some guy who thinks he’s better looking than his own reflection.”
“You know I can hear you,” said Gavyn. “I’m right here.”
“Yeah. Don’t care,” replied Dorian. “Not gonna happen, Arna.”
Arna continued to stare Dorian down. His expression didn’t change, and he clearly wasn’t amused by Dorian’s antics. He took a step forward and met Dorian’s gaze with only a few inches between them.
“Do not forget with whom you are dealing, Dorian. You may be immortal now and skilled as a warrior. And you may even give me a good fight…put me down once or twice. But in the end, you will never better me in battle. And you will always lose. And although I may be unable to mortally wound you, it would be easy for me to inflict enough damage—repeatedly—enough so that even you would beg for mercy.” Arna leaned in, their noses nearly touching. “So, ask yourself, are you willing to test your skill against me here in front of your…friends?”
>
Dorian didn’t flinch. I swallowed hard. My hand slid down to the hilt of my sword, preparing to step in if need be. Their confrontation was tense, causing Grace to hide behind me, shielding herself from getting caught in the middle…just in case. Gavyn, on the other hand, smiled and chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the scene unfold.
Rami finally intervened and placed his hands on the chest of each and stood between them.
“Enough pissin’ for distance, boys. I think that’s enough testosterone for one night,” he stated mockingly, glancing in my direction. “I think you’re upsetting the ladies.”
“Who you callin’ a lady?” I replied flatly.
I felt a jab in my side and turned my head back to find Grace giving me crazy eyes.
“Don’t joke at a time like this,” she hissed in my ear.
Dorian shot everyone a dirty look, making sure every single person could see just how pissed off he was.
“Fine!” he barked, storming off, beaten but not defeated. The darkness enveloped him as he disappeared down the path, his black wings blending into the obscurity of the night air.
Gavyn grinned and shook his head as if laughing at something inside his own head, lost in thought. But suddenly, he seemed to realize that he was being left behind, so he jerked himself forward and took off after Dorian.
“Wait up!” Gavyn yelled, jogging to catch up.
I watched Gavyn run off to catch up to Dorian and wondered what I’d just witnessed. Arna and Dorian had known each other for years. They were friends—good friends. To see them act like enemies was unnerving, and I wasn’t sure how to process it all.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
Arna didn’t reply. Instead, he went off in the direction of the tree and commenced searching the area.
I turned my head toward Rami.
“Seriously. What was that?”
He shrugged, but then something seemed to turn on inside his mind, his face growing serious.
“You feel it, don’t you? I mean, you’re closer to Dorian than anyone. You can feel that there’s something wrong. I know you do. You’re not stupid, Skyy.”
Grace came out from her hiding place behind me.
“He’s right. I haven’t even known him that long and I can tell something’s off,” said Grace. She shivered and folded her arms tightly against her chest, tucking her hands up under her armpits.
I knew they were right. Dorian had changed, and it went far beyond just adjusting to an immortal life of boredom and endless sunsets. But I still couldn’t bring myself to admit it to anyone out loud, because if I verbalized it, that was it. I wouldn’t be able to take it back once it was out there. And the question remained—why had Dorian been acting so strangely? And where was his growing anger coming from?
I didn’t answer them. Instead, I followed Arna’s lead and strayed from the trail to search for any clue as to Michael’s whereabouts or any trace of the doorway to Hell. Grace tried to follow, but the terrain was too tricky for a mortal with the upper body strength of a wet noodle and the lower body agility of a newborn giraffe. So, accepting defeat, she stayed on the trail and waited for the rest of us…flashlight in one hand and Gladys in the other.
Some time had passed and yet no one found a thing. There was no indication whatsoever that the Archangel Michael had ever been there.
“We’re just wasting our time, guys,” I shouted to the others. “There’s nothing here. Let’s grab Dorian and Gavyn and get out of here.”
I paused. The guys hadn’t made it back, yet, and I wondered what kind of trouble they could be getting into.
“Do you think they’ve killed each other?” I asked.
Rami was hunched over a bush. He turned his head. “What is it about Gavyn that Dorian hates so much?”
I sighed heavily.
“I don’t think he likes the way Gavyn looks at me.”
“Looks at you?”
“You know. Like he likes me? And when he talks to me, he’s really smooth...and inappropriate. I mean, it doesn’t bother me. I have zero interest in him, but Dorian acts like it’s a capital offense.”
“Gotchya. So, he’s jealous.” Rami nodded his head as if agreeing with something inside in his head. “Just means he loves you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I replied. “Love is a bit strong. I mean, he’s never even said it.”
“Just because he hasn’t said it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it. I mean, have you ever told him?”
I paused. “Not really.”
Rami chuckled. “Simple yes or no question, Skyy.”
“Fine. No.”
“But you love him.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but I stopped myself from answering. Over the past few days, I had contemplated the answer to that exact question. I worried about admitting any deep feelings I had to anyone…including myself for fear of something happening to us. I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of eternity without him, but our time together thus far had been brief, and who knew what our futures held?
But it was the old Dorian that I loved. The new indignant version made it difficult to feel anything except apprehension about our relationship.
“As much fun as it is to air my personal life in front of other people, we have more pressing issues to deal with at the moment,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “Without the ring, we’re never going to find the gate to Hell. And if we can’t find the gate to Hell, we’ll never find Michael. And if we can’t find Michael, we’ll never find the ring. Hence our problem. I think this entire trip was a complete waste of time. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I mean, what am I going to do with it if I find it anyway? This is stupid. Let’s just get out of here.”
The others said nothing. They simply stared back, their expressions all showing disbelief. I assumed they were all disappointed in me, shocked at my outburst, but I suddenly realized that none of them were actually looking at me. Instead, they were staring through me. I slowly turned around and discovered a dark figure leaning up against the dead tree.
My jaw dropped.
It was the homeless man who had saved Grace’s life.
The man from my painting, Man with Brown Laces.
Chapter 20
“I believe you have been looking for me.” The man stepped away from the tree and stepped onto the trail.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Michael?” I could do nothing but stare. His voice, both eloquent and articulate, didn’t match his appearance. He appeared frail and unkempt, as though he’d been living on the streets for years. And based on the smell emanating from his direction, it was painfully obvious he hadn’t showered in days…perhaps even months.
His mouth attempted a slight grin, but only barely. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes were strong. Surely the filthy, slovenly man standing before us couldn’t possibly be the Archangel we’d been searching for. After all, Michael had once been God’s head Watcher. The book of Daniel said that he would rise up during the end times to defeat Satan himself.
“Arna,” he said simply, nodding his head at the Watcher. “Good to see you again.”
“It’s been far too long, brother,” Arna replied, placing his hand on his chest and bowing his head.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Words eluded me.
The Archangel Michael was a smelly, disheveled, homeless man.
“You are in search of the ring. The Seal of Solomon?” His question was aimed only at me, his gaze never wavering. He spoke with ease and without an ounce of fear in his voice. It was as if he already knew everything—who we were, why we were there, and what we wanted. But how could he know?
He continued to stare me down, waiting for me to answer.
“Yes. Naberius and his forces are looking for it,” I finally said, stepping forward.
“And he wishes you to retrieve it for him, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you have no intention of doing so.”
“No.”
“And you also have no intention of allowing Heaven to claim it, as well.”
I wasn’t sure of the answer he was looking for, but I gave him an honest one regardless.
“No.”
“So…what shall you do?” Michael’s question was more hypothetical than inquisitive.
“I haven’t quite figured that out, yet.”
He nodded to himself.
“So…you’re really Michael? I mean, no disrespect but you don’t exactly look like an Archangel. And how the hell did you know we were looking for you?”
“My Father told me to expect you,” he replied, bowing his head with respect. “And this is merely the vessel I decided to use to cover my tracks…to hide in plain sight. No one pays attention to those who look like me even when they should. It’s a pity that God created mankind to take care of one another…to follow Him and His rules so that humanity could praise and honor him. Instead, humanity has shown time and again their evil nature and hatred of those around them...their wanton need to destroy themselves and the world…I disguised myself and walked away in hopes that things would get better. But they haven’t. So, I wandered the earth for centuries waiting for a sign that the end was nigh.”
I listened to Michael and thought about what he’d just said.
“Bullshit,” I said.
“Excuse me?” Michael replied
“Bullshit. I am so sick and tired of hearing your kind belittle humanity for their evil and destructive ways. I mean, we get it already. This place was wasted on their self-centered, malevolent, greedy kind. And they don’t deserve any of it. Right?” I addressed my questioning to the entire group, throwing my arms out to my side for emphasis. “I mean, how long are you going to beat this drum? Yes, there are terrible, awful, disgusting people in this world. And yes, many of them deserve a one-way ticket straight to the pit. But there are just as many, if not more, people who are good and kind. Wonderful and caring. Loving and compassionate. Mean well and want to leave their planet better than the way they found it. So, to condemn an entire race based on your own opinions of them is only an excuse to hide away and be bitter over something you’ve made up inside your head.”