“Phoebe…it’s my name.”
I smiled. “Glad you told me; ‘that girl’ didn’t fit you quite as well.”
She grinned at my joke, then wiped at her sweating brow and neck.
I looked away, totally at a loss for what I should say to her.
“Tell her to take them off.”
“I can’t just tell her to take her clothes off, Malcolm.”
“She’ll die of a heatstroke if you don’t. That material is not made for the desert. If she dies, she will return back to the Syde of Pride with no memory of you or that she repented. She will only have the ugly scars and no recollection of why she has them—”
“Alright, fine, just—shut up for a minute, will ya?”
I could hear him snickering in my head, but he did as I told him and kept quiet.
I huffed.
“Rhyan?”
“Um…are you comfortable? If you need to, uh—” I gestured to the wool she was wearing.
“Thanks.” She grabbed her backpack and dug around the contents until she retrieved a knife. The hilt looked to be carved from some type of large bone. “Didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable around a half naked woman that’s not your wife, but I have to get rid of some of this or I’m going to pass out. I guess you could say I’m a little hot natured after being in Arctic-like temperatures for a quarter of a century. I was just beginning to get used to it.”
I blinked a few times as she began shredding the material of the shirt with the blade. She cut out the underside from the armpit to the cuff, leaving the top of the sleeve to protect her pale skin from direct contact with the sun, then she cut vertical slits all the way around it to let in airflow. Next, she cut long slits in her baggy pants from mid-thigh to ankle.
I was impressed, but I guessed anyone who had spent twenty-five years in freezing temperatures, without shelter, knew a thing or two about surviving. Maybe I could learn a few tricks from her along the way, I thought as I crossed my arms across my chest and watched her work.
She tucked the legs of her pants into her boots and laced them tight.
“Why are you doing that?”
She finished tying the bootlace, then looked up at me with a smirk. “There are all kinds of critters in the desert. I can only imagine what lives in Hell’s desert. I don’t want anything crawling up the inside of my trousers.”
She glanced down at my bare legs and so did I. When I looked back at her she had her brow raised, then hid her smile by throwing her pack on her back and setting off in the direction we had originally headed in.
Chapter 37
Malcolm
Malcolm walked slowly around the large cage made up of silver bars. The LOD’d had to reinforce it with more silver because the demon trapped within happened to be small enough to squeeze its body through the narrow gaps.
Just to have touched the bars would’ve caused the thing extreme pain, but taking chances it wouldn’t risk scorched flesh to get out wasn’t an option any of them were willing to take.
Its low, screechy voice startled Malcolm and he stopped, but was careful not to look the thing in the eye. They didn’t need a recurrence of the possession to take place.
“He’s coming soon,” it said, and snickered.
“Who’s coming?” Malcolm asked.
Clicking noises came from the creature and Malcolm fought the urge to look directly at it. “My master is coming.”
Malcolm chuckled, but there was a hint of nervousness he couldn’t hide. “Lucifer is coming to Heaven?”
“Yessss,” it hissed.
Malcolm ran to the bars and stared down at the deformity in disgust. “Lucifer is trapped in Hell. He can’t even get to Earth, much less find his way back to Heaven. He was banished to the pits of Hell. It’s impossible for him to get out. How do you suppose he will gain access?”
The creature stood to its full height of about three feet tall and walked to the bars. Malcolm wanted to look away, but couldn’t risk missing anything. The twitch of an eye or mouth could distinguish a lie from the truth. Malcolm was an expert at reading features; even ugly ones like the demon had been blessed with.
Malcolm watched as the disfigured hand rose up. The mutant pointed a long, skinny finger at Malcolm’s chest and then smiled a mouthful of razor sharp teeth. “He will gain access into Heaven through you, angel.”
Malcolm stumbled back. He’d been watching for any signs of lying. There had been none, but that didn’t mean the demon was telling the entire truth, Malcolm thought. He couldn’t believe he would be the one to give the fallen angel access back into the Heavenly Realm. It wasn’t possible. The demon had to be lying. God would damn him for letting such a thing happen.
Malcolm looked back at his enemy in cold fear. “You lie,” he accused, but the demon only shook its head. Malcolm placed his palm over the hard pounding of his chest. “You are the reason I am this way.” He said it as a statement, because he already knew the answer that was nearly impossible to accept. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“I am Miles. I met up with your friend shortly after his arrival in Princess Abigail’s syde. I know everything you are doing to help the angel defeat my master, and so does he. I’ve read your mind…and your heart,” he said with a sly smile. “She doesn’t love you, you know?”
Losing his cool with the demon would’ve only made things worse for everyone, Malcolm thought, so he chose to ignore anything the creature said about Josselyn. He had to be trying to distract him from what was most important: Lucifer getting into Heaven, and him being the key of his entry. That was definitely more important than getting another kiss from Josselyn. The puttering of his heart and the tightness in his chest at the mention of her name would just have to be looked into later, well after they were positive Heaven was safe and secure.
“Why is my heart beating again? Am I alive? Human again?”
The demon laughed creepily, but didn’t seem surprised by Malcolm’s question. He shook his head. “You are not human—”
“What is it, then?”
The laughing abruptly stopped and he glowered at Malcolm. “You are tainted,” he said, the last word ending with a raise of his bushy eyebrows. “Lucifer can’t punish the princess or the angel because he forgot to put in the contract that help isn’t to be given to them by anyone. But anyone who thinks they can make a one-way portal into Hell and it go unnoticed, well, they are only begging for my master to take their soul, now, aren’t they?”
“My soul…” Malcolm tried to swallow, but felt as though the walls of his esophagus were constricting, and preventing him from even drawing a complete breath. “I have my soul,” he muttered, barely audible.
“You sure about that?”
“I still have my soul!” Malcolm shouted.
“Unless you have two, you’re wrong. I delivered your soul to Lucifer myself. I did possess you, remember? You belong to him now. He can find you anywhere you go…even here, in Heaven. You are a demon.”
“No!” Malcolm screamed hysterically. “I don’t believe it. You are lying!” he spat.
Miles took a moment to observe the silver cage that had him contained. “Touch the silver bars if you are so sure you’re still an angel and have possession of your soul. I bet you a shiny nickel they knock you on your ass.”
“Can’t be…It can’t be true,” Malcolm thought, and didn’t realize he was loudly broadcasting to Rhyan.
“What can’t be true, Malcolm?” Rhyan asked. “Talk to me. What has happened?”
Through tear-filled eyes, he looked at the bars and lifted his hand. Miles nodded excitedly, encouraging him to grab hold of the silver and accept his fate.
Curling his fingers into a fist, he forced his arm back down to his side. “I have to get out of here,” he muttered.
“Get out of where? Heaven? Why? Talk to me, damn you!”
“I’m sorry, Rhyan. I messed up. I hope you make it out of there, brother.”
Malcolm turned from a grinning Miles, and then ran
from the room in search of Isaiah.
Rhyan
“What? Malcolm, what happened? What did you mess up?”
There was no answer.
I couldn’t even begin to think what had gone wrong or why I’d lost contact with my guardian angel. I wanted to throw something, but if I’d thrown anything on my person, I would’ve had to go and retrieve it, so I settled for bending at the waist, clutching my knees in my hands and growling out my frustration through clenched teeth.
“Is something wrong?” Phoebe asked, then stopped and walked back to me.
I shook my head and called out for Malcolm again. Nothing.
I shrugged her hand from my arm as I rose back in an upright position, letting my hands rest casually on my hips and avoiding her concerned stare. “Yeah, something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is.”
“Well, tell me what you think it is. Maybe I can help—”
“You can’t help,” I shouted at her.
“Why the hell not?” she snapped back.
I just looked at her for a moment. We were both hot and cranky, and it was obvious the effects of the syde were beginning to wear on us. Arguing with each other would only make matters worse. We needed to work together. We had to trust each other or neither of us would make it out alive.
I glanced up at the two suns and huffed in uncomfortable irritation. I had no idea how to tell her about Malcolm without being overheard by someone I didn’t want knowing about the help I was receiving. I had no idea who was listening in or how good their hearing was. I decided to risk it.
“Uh…my guardian angel has been helping me the whole time I’ve been here, but something has happened and I can’t hear him anymore. He just apologized to me for messing something up and said he hoped I got out of here. That’s all. He won’t answer me anymore.”
Phoebe sighed. “Well, there isn’t much we can do about it from here, so we just need to try to get out as quickly as possible without dying, right? Then,” she shrugged, “we’ll figure out what happened to the angel. I’m sure that if something is seriously wrong, there is a shit-load of pissed off angels handling it right now. Don’t cha think?”
I chuckled as I nodded in agreement. “I guess you’re right. I mean, how bad can it be anyway? Malcolm’s a freaking saint.”
Josselyn
She’d been pacing in front of the den window from the inside of the Chamberlain home when she heard the familiar pop. She smiled, thinking Malcolm had returned to check on her welfare again since he had no access to Heaven’s main speculum anymore, but when she turned and saw Troy in the doorway, face void of any expression, panic consumed her.
Rhyan, she thought.
“Troy, what is it? Is Rhyan okay? He didn’t lose a life—”
The shaking of his head cut her thought short. Her eyes narrowed, trying to read his body language, but Troy had always been good at hiding his emotions. Nevertheless, she knew something was wrong; he wasn’t talking.
“What is it, Troy?” she asked cautiously.
He cleared his throat as his brow furrowed. “Isaiah is requesting a meeting wi’ ye. I am tae escort ye directly tae Council. I brocht twa mere members of the LOD tae bide here in yer absence.”
Something was definitely wrong, she thought. Troy had never been that formal with her.
She was either in big trouble or Rhyan had failed. Troy’s composure was beginning to crack. She could see the tattered edges he was desperately trying to hide from her, but she wouldn’t make the gentle giant tell her something so important.
She took in a shaky breath and then let it all rush out in a loud exhale. “Let us go then. Whatever it is must be pretty significant to take me away from my post.”
The corner of Troy’s mouth turned up in a half smile and he offered her the crook of his arm.
On a sigh, she walked to the almost seven foot tall angel and took the offering before returning to Heaven as ordered.
~ ~ ~
Troy put his palm on the knob of the door, but instead of turning the gold in his hand, he held it in place and took a breath.
“Troy?”
He didn’t look at her. “I suppose ye ken this isnae good news, lass.”
“Well, I didn’t think Isaiah would order a meeting because he missed me,” she said, and Troy shot her a sour look. “Sorry, yeah, I get it’s bad news. I’m only trying to stay upbeat about it so I don’t fall apart on you.”
He let go of the door knob and grabbed her in a big, friendly hug. “We’ll find a wie tae fix this, Jossel.”
She relaxed in the comfort of his big arms and let the first tear fall. She was only mildly surprised when the warm drop ran over her nose and didn’t disappear as it soaked through his shirt.
The door of the Council chambers opened and Josselyn looked up in surprise.
There was a young boy standing just inside; his hand rested on the outside knob as Troy’s had been only moments before. His eyes were scrutinizing as it examined their embrace, then he finally looked up to meet Troy’s equally bitter gaze. “What took you so long? The head guardians are waiting for her.”
Troy didn’t bother answering the kid; he took Josselyn’s hand and led her into Council.
“Come in, guests, and take a seat.”
Josselyn knew there would be sixteen archangels filling the thrones behind the massive table thirty feet in front of her. Counting their heads wasn’t necessary, but she found focusing on something as simple as that helped her stay grounded.
Troy pulled a chair out for her in front of the line of Council and she sat. Isaiah was fourth from the left. She’d found his sad face when she’d counted a moment earlier. She wanted to weep for Rhyan. She’d thought he had been doing so well, and she didn’t want to hear he had failed, but knew there was no other reason for her summon.
“Isaiah felt it imperative you be brought into the conversation and told about the recent events,” Gabriella said as she looked down at Josselyn. “Honestly, I don’t see the point, but who am I to judge—”
“Gabriella,” Geoffrey chaffed with a slight smile. “Isaiah says the girl is important to the case. We should not suggest otherwise. Perhaps she could be of some help.”
Help? Josselyn thought. They think I can help Rhyan? She jumped quickly to her feet. “I will help Rhyan. Just tell me what I need to do.”
“Rhyan is not our concern,” Alexandra responded. “Sit down, girl.”
Josselyn sat as swiftly as she’d stood, her mind racing in a million different directions. The meeting wasn’t about Rhyan? So, he was okay? She looked up to meet Isaiah’s stare and he lowered his head. She could feel the sadness radiating from his very soul and wanted to scream out for someone to talk to her, to tell her what had happened.
It was then that she realized the guardian angel of the male she worried about wasn’t present. “Malcolm,” she muttered incoherently, and felt Troy’s big hand slip into hers. “Where is Malcolm?”
Isaiah stood slowly and rubbed his hands over his shirt in a nervous gesture.
He wasn’t looking at her and that made her very uncomfortable. “Isaiah, tell me…” She stopped to take a deep breath and battle her blurry vision as the fresh tears were obstructing her sight from the archangel. “Where is Malcolm?”
“I do not know of his whereabouts, Josselyn. He was possessed by a demon while the portal was open. The exorcism was successful, but the demon stole Malcolm’s soul and—”
“What?” She shook her head and tried to wrap her mind around how a soul could be stolen, let alone an angel’s pure soul.
“I’m sorry, child. He knew Heaven would be at great risk if he stayed here, where Lucifer could locate him. He stopped only long enough to pass Rhyan’s link to me.”
Trying desperately to understand, Josselyn finally shook her head. “You’re Rhyan’s guardian angel now, and you have no idea where Malcolm has gone. That’s what you are saying, right?”
He hesitated for only a moment, then final
ly answered. “Yes.”
Josselyn studied the whole Council a moment more, realizing there was nothing they were intending to do about Malcolm’s condition. Most of them appeared to even think it humorous. She shot to her feet and started back up the aisle, with Troy right on her heels.
“Whaur are ye gaun?” Troy asked as he caught up with her. “Ye havenae been dismissed yet, Josselyn. We cannae just walk oot o’ Council.”
“Then stay here and get your dismissal, Troy. I’m not really that concerned about what is proper right now.” She grabbed the door knob and let herself out of the big room.
Chapter 38
Rhyan
“What is that?” Phoebe asked, and I looked in the direction she was pointing, but there was nothing to be seen.
I shook my head and handed her the half empty canteen. “There is nothing there. The syde is playing tricks on your mind. Stay hydrated.”
She took a small sip and handed it back. “I don’t suppose there were any envious people in the world. We haven’t seen anybody since we arrived here. How are we supposed to get out? The opposite of envy is to not be envious, right? There is absolutely nothing here to be envious about. I damn sure don’t envy you. That sunburn is going to hurt like a bitch later.”
“Sloth was like this, too. The only thing I can think is they don’t want to chance anyone helping me.”
She nodded in agreement. “You were right, back there—in my syde. They warned me not to talk to you or they would take all my possessions from me. What I have isn’t much, but it’s all I have. I guess I thought having a decent conversation with a sane person was more important. Hell, maybe I was meant to help you so you could help me.” She cleared her throat and averted her gaze, clearly embarrassed. “I’m just saying I am grateful for your help getting me out of there—that’s all.”
I smiled. That had to have been hard for her to say. Being polite wasn’t exactly a requirement in Hell. “I’m grateful, too, Phoebe. I would have probably already lost a life by now and returned to Gluttony with no recollection of what I’d already been through. Thank you for helping me, too.”
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