Queen of the Immortals

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Queen of the Immortals Page 22

by T. R. Hamby


  Nora

  Swords. Shields. Knives. Armor.

  Fucking. Awesome.

  Nora held a knife in her hand, carefully slid it through the air. The power it sent through her was unreal. The Blade glimmered, the dragon carved into the cold metal breathed. She wanted to jump, she wanted to spin, she wanted to slice the air with her Blade. It was intoxicating.

  There was still a problem, though. She and Barry were still human, with average human strength. Their strongest swing would merely bounce off an enemy Angel’s Blade. A swing coming from an Angel could easily break Nora’s arm while she tried to parry.

  It made this whole thing pointless. Fun, but pointless.

  “Nora,” Barry said beside her, playing with his Blade as well.

  It was just the two of them in the spare room, testing out their weapons while the rest got dinner cleaned up.

  She looked at him, saw the pensiveness in his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?”

  He swung his Blade a few times. He was good at it, maintaining his balance well.

  He looked at her. “What was it like, becoming Immortal?”

  Nora hesitated. She knew where this was going, and it wasn’t a conversation she felt comfortable having.

  She took a deep breath. “Um….well….God said he would only make me Immortal if I died first. So, I did….I let someone strangle me to death--which is its own story.”

  She paused, then continued, “I woke up in this Place….it looked like my old house, when I was a kid. And God talked to me….he offered me this deal. It was very….gentle. Calm. Not exactly happy, but not sad or painful. Just….there. Existent.”

  She looked at Barry, who looked troubled.

  “What was God like?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “He was nice to me. Again, gentle.”

  He frowned, swung his Blade again. Then he said quietly, “Have you wondered when I’m going to leave?”

  Nora stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged; she couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. “When I’m going. When I’m getting tired of all this, when I’m going to use again.”

  “Barry--”

  “I just want to know.”

  “Barry,” she said firmly, and he looked at her, surprised. “Don’t do this to yourself. You are your own worst enemy. If you give into these thoughts, then you’ll never be happy. Got it?”

  He stared at her, taken aback, before nodding sheepishly.

  “And for what it's worth,” Nora added, “you’re not going anywhere. I know you’re not.”

  “I want to be Immortal,” Barry suddenly said, and now it was Nora’s turn to be struck, even though she had been expecting this.

  She sighed. “I know you want to be with Gabriel, Barry--”

  “It’s not that,” he said firmly, his blue eyes piercing. “I can be with Gabriel as a mortal. But I can’t help you as a mortal. I can’t help find those girls as a mortal. I can’t fight as a mortal.”

  Nora studied him--his determined expression, his tight jaw. She was amazed that this man--so young, and who had already been through so much--had such a strong heart. Such a need to help.

  She took a deep breath. “Ask Michael if he can ask God….whenever God speaks to him again. It’s been a while,” she cautioned.

  She gave him a firm look when he looked excited. “He’ll want a deal. You might have to trade something priceless. Look at Gilla.”

  He nodded, troubled. “I don’t understand that. ’Course, I don’t understand any of this.”

  Nora squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry. None of us do.”

  He shook his head. “It’s like a game. A sick game.”

  She bit her lip, looked away. It was.

  The other four traipsed in then, and each took a sword from the pile. Gabriel had Traveled back to the Immortal World earlier in the day and had retrieved a large pile of armor and shields. He, Michael and Mel helped the three don the armor. Nora looked around; the armor was light, and only covered their torsos and the upper part of their arms. It gave a cool effect, with Barry looking like a Viking, and Gilla like a warrior goddess.

  “Glad they fit,” Gabriel said, tightening the strap on Barry’s chest plate. “I had to ask around for the right sizes.”

  “I have no idea why I didn’t think of this,” Michael said.

  He picked up his sword and swung it around expertly. Mel took his, and they started dueling, their Blades clanging, snickering.

  Nora had to take a steadying breath. She wasn't sure what struck her most--how sexy Mel looked swinging a sword, or the fact that he and Michael were horsing around, and enjoying it.

  Michael parried a blow and kicked Mel to the ground. Mel hit the floor with a crash, and the wood groaned.

  “Goddammit,” he said. “I hate when you do that.”

  Michael was grinning; he held out a hand and helped Mel to his feet.

  Gabriel was chuckling. “I remember doing this as a child with you two.”

  “Yeah, and you were a little shit,” Michael replied, grabbing Gabriel’s head and gently shoving it. “But let’s get on with it. We have newbies.”

  Gilla made a face, and he smiled at her. She was holding her sword awkwardly, the only one of them who seemed uncomfortable with learning how to use it.

  “Let’s split up,” Nora suggested. “Partner teaching partner. Might as well learn from who we’re closest to.”

  They agreed, and coupled.

  Mel looked excited, bouncing on his feet. He showed her how to hold her knife first, and how to stand. Then they moved on to defensive and offensive swinging.

  “Good--with your hands like that, yeah--very good,” Mel finally said, grinning.

  He twirled his knife in his hand, then took position. “Let’s duel, diletta.”

  Nora raised her knife, and time seemed to slow. That wonderful power that the knife seemed to hold drew her in, made her feel focused, strong.

  Mel made the first move, and they danced, knives slicing the air. They ducked, swung, parried with their free fists, and moved back and forth across the room. Mel looked shocked, and seemed to lose his focus, stumbling slightly as Nora charged him.

  “Stop, stop,” he finally said, and Nora lowered her knife, breathing heavily.

  They stared at each other, and Mel let out a breath. “Jesus, Nora. That was….much better than I expected.”

  She felt a surge of excitement, and she looked down at the knife in her hand. “Really?”

  “Yes,” he replied, laughing. He touched her arm, and she looked at him, amazed.

  She couldn’t help but shake her head. Was this something God had meant for her to do?

  They heard a furious clanging of swords then, and looked around. It was Barry and Gabriel. Barry’s sword was flying, an intense look of concentration on his face. He was in the offensive, swinging this way and that as Gabriel backed up, parrying and ducking. He looked stunned, but was also grinning, pleased. Barry swung upwards, and Gabriel finally grabbed his wrist.

  “Truce,” he said, as Barry breathed heavily before him. “Shit, Barry. Where have you been hiding that?”

  “No clue,” Barry said, looking down at his sword. “It just felt natural.”

  “That wasn’t natural, mate,” Gabriel replied. “That was pure talent.”

  “Nora too,” Mel said, still grinning.

  He looked at her. “You might even be better than me.”

  Nora and Barry grinned at each other and high-fived.

  “Odd that Father would allow that,” Michael said quietly, looking troubled.

  “Who cares,” Gabriel muttered, kissing Barry on the cheek. “It’s Father; what do you expect?”

  They continued for another hour before deciding to get to bed.

  They carefully organized the weapons and armor on the futon. Mel and Michael discussed putting up shelving to mount the swords, and Nora smiled, pleased to see them getting along so well--even, perhaps, enjoying each other’
s company. They had come a long way in the last two years. The last 200,000 years.

  She cornered Michael as the rest of them filed out of the room.

  “You need to ask God to give us Angel strength,” she said firmly. “And to make Barry Immortal.”

  Michael sighed, nodding. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “We can’t defend ourselves if we aren’t as strong as Angels. And Barry’s in it for the long haul. We need to keep him safe.”

  “Not only that,” he murmured quietly, “we need his skills. He’s a natural.”

  And he smiled. “And you too.”

  Nora flushed, pleased. “You really think so?”

  He rolled his eyes, and she giggled.

  She waited, then asked, “Can you--like--Call to God? This sort of needs to be expedited.”

  “I have a feeling he’ll reach out anyway,” Michael said dryly. “He tends to know what’s going on with us.”

  They were quiet a moment. Michael studied the weapons lying on the futon, a dark expression on his face.

  Nora could guess what was causing it. “How are you? With Serene.”

  He looked away and shrugged. “She’s not a child anymore. She can do what she wants.”

  “She said she would visit, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Did things feel….like….she was uncomfortable with you?” she asked gently.

  He took a deep breath and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I think she’s uncomfortable with all of us. Embarrassed, jealous. I don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry, Michael.”

  He shrugged again, but she could see he was hurting. She drew close, slipping her arms around his neck, and he held her.

  “She’ll come around,” she said firmly. “She just needs time. And you’ll have a grandkid. Something to look forward to.”

  Michael chuckled, and she knew he was struck by the idea. “Yeah.”

  Nora paused; she wondered if she should say anything. She decided she should, and said, teasingly, “You and Mel seemed to be enjoying yourselves earlier.”

  Michael was quiet for a moment. “Well,” he finally said, “dueling is much better than playing football.”

  Barry

  Tom.

  Barry opened his eyes. He felt very strange, like he was suspended in water, instead of lying in his bed.

  It was dim here. He peered around, confused, but unafraid. His heart beat slowly, very slowly.

  Tom, the strange voice said again.

  Barry frowned. This must have been some strange dream.

  “Yes?” he asked cautiously.

  Do you know who you’re speaking with?

  Barry thought, frowning. “No, sir.”

  You know me as God.

  He felt his insides turn to ice. What was God doing talking to him?

  You are surprised. You should be. You are not the type of human I would consider speaking to.

  Barry didn’t miss the edge in God’s tone, and was surprised; Nora had said he had been gentle with her.

  He felt a surge of fear. “Did I do something wrong, sir?” he whispered.

  You have done a multitude of things wrong, God said, with venom in his voice. Do I have to remind you?

  Barry was stunned for a moment. Then he hung his head. “No.”

  You want to be Immortal. My dear Nora wants you to be strong like Angels.

  Barry looked up, his heart quickening ever so slightly. “Yes--I want to help.”

  Why should I trust you?

  Barry felt himself deflate. He, for some reason, was shocked--God was angry with him, and was, frankly, being scornful. There was no gentleness, no forgiveness. Barry was on trial.

  He took a careful breath. “I know what I’ve done--”

  Do you? God’s voice was harsh. The money you’ve stolen, the people you’ve robbed. The lives you have affected. Your mother’s especially. She died alone, in pain, wondering where you were. You were getting high behind a dumpster.

  Barry couldn’t breathe. The image of his mother on her deathbed flashed through his mind, and he shuddered.

  “I’m sorry--”

  You will be sorry for the rest of your days.

  He looked up. “Let me….please….I want to help….”

  It would help everyone if you returned to that dumpster, God hissed.

  There was a horrible silence. Barry felt sick. He was overwhelmed with guilt, and had a desperate urge to do exactly what God had said--find that dumpster and shoot up until he was fucked.

  Then God said, I will give you a choice, though--since my dear Nora somehow cares for you.

  Barry didn’t reply. He felt very dull, and very nauseous.

  You would like to be Immortal. Nora would like the two of you to be strong, like your partners. I give you two choices. The first, that you will become Immortal--but neither you, nor Nora will become strong. The second, that only Nora will become strong, and you will not become Immortal. The first favors you, and the second favors her.

  Barry frowned, confused. “Why would I choose something that only benefits me?”

  You’ve certainly done it before.

  He felt sick again.

  Before you decide, God added, you must know that if you choose the second option, you will return to your old ways.

  Barry felt his insides freeze.

  He shook his head, willing what God had said to not be true. “What do you mean?”

  You understand what I am saying. You will have an opportunity, and you will take it.

  He shook, and tears welled in his eyes. “Please don’t make me do this. Please. I’ll do anything else.”

  Then choose the first option, God spat. Fail your friends. You knew it would happen eventually.

  And then the strange sensation was lifting; Barry was falling backward, until he was lying in bed, his heart racing.

  His stomach lurched, and he ran to the bathroom. He was sick, and God’s horrible words echoed in his head.

  You knew it would happen eventually.

  “Hey,” Gabriel’s voice said, as Barry flushed the toilet. “What are you doing?”

  Barry chuckled bitterly. “Just nauseous.”

  His heart was pounding, and his hands shook. He was sweating. All those things, all those horrible things he had done were repeating themselves in his head like a fucked up movie….

  And he would do them all again soon.

  Gabriel brushed at his hair. “Are you sick? Come back to the bed….I’ll get Nora….”

  Barry sat on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. It only took a few minutes for Gabriel to return with Nora, who was frowning with concern.

  She sat next to Barry and felt his brow. “No fever. What’s wrong?”

  She rubbed soothing circles on his back, and her touch reminded him so much of his mother that he almost burst into tears.

  She died alone, in pain, wondering where you were. You were getting high behind a dumpster.

  He took a deep breath. He could feel Gabriel watching him, and some of the others at the door, too.

  He started speaking. He told them how God had spoken to him, and about the two choices he had to consider. He left out the part about using again--about leaving this life behind--should he allow Nora to have Angel strength.

  Everyone was quiet.

  “Fucking hell,” Mel whispered, and Barry shivered painfully as the temperature dropped.

  “Mel,” Nora said warningly, and the temperature shifted back to warm.

  She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “I’m going with the second option,” Barry said quietly.

  The thought made him want to vomit again. But he knew, as terrible as it was, that he had to do it. Innocent lives were at stake. His was nothing compared to theirs.

  “Don’t rush into it,” Mel said. “There’s time to think.”

  “It makes sense for Nora to be strong,” he replied dully. “What good
is it if we’re both Immortal but defenseless?”

  “We can figure that out,” Gabriel said, almost desperately.

  He sat beside him, took his hand. “You can be Immortal. You can be with us forever.”

  Barry’s eyes stung, and he blinked rapidly. He knew when Gabriel said “us” he meant “me.”

  “Barry’s right,” Michael said quietly.

  Gabriel shot him a look, but he ignored it. “It makes more sense for Nora to be strong enough to fight our kind, than for both of them to be weak and Immortal.”

  “This is Father’s twisted way of working, Barry,” Mel hissed. “He doesn’t do anything out of the kindness of his heart.”

  Barry shrugged. He was exhausted, drained. Those horrible memories haunted him.

  He would soon be making more.

  Gilla clapped her hands and signed.

  Nora frowned and nodded. “Why were you sick, Barry?” she asked worriedly.

  He hesitated, flushing. He looked away and shrugged. “He….said some things.”

  “What things?” Nora asked dangerously.

  Barry sighed. “I want to go to bed now.”

  “Barry, take some time,” Nora pleaded. “You don’t have to make a decision now. You can choose yourself. We understand--”

  “Nora, let him breathe,” Mel said gently.

  She hesitated, but kissed his cheek and got up. They left, shooting glances at him over their shoulders.

  Barry closed his eyes. All those people who cared about him, who he loved. And he would be failing them soon.

  He crawled back into bed, and Gabriel held him.

  “Don’t listen to what Father says,” he said soothingly, kissing his shoulder. “He’s not good. He’s just not. Look what he did to my uncle.”

  “Mel hasn’t done the things that I’ve done,” Barry said dully.

  Gabriel sighed.

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m disappointing.”

  “You’re not--god, Barry,” Gabriel breathed. “Look--you’re tired. We’ll talk tomorrow. When we get home. All right?”

  Barry nodded, and Gabriel held him tight. It felt so good to be in his arms--so safe. How could he stand to lose this?

  He was quiet the next morning. He got dressed without a word, ate breakfast without a word. Everyone looked at him worriedly, especially Gabriel. All the while what God had said about his mother went through his mind.

 

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