Black Night bw-2

by Christina Henry

  I had defeated Nathaniel. I had killed Ramuell. I had survived. I wasn’t powerless.

  The Maze-Ramuell looked surprised as I stalked forward. The nephilim took a step backward away from me, and I knew then that the Maze would never beat me.

  “You will not break me,” I said, my anger giving me strength, taking away the pain. “You will not break me, because I know that this is not real.”

  “Not real?” the Maze said. “Are not your injuries real, your broken bones? Were you not defiled by Zerachiel’s son?”

  “No,” I said, and as I said it my rib bone knit back together, my limping leg grew straight again, my cuts and burns and bruises healed. All the shattered pieces inside me were made whole.

  “It didn’t happen,” I said. I stood before the Maze with my heart and my body in one piece. If there was a trace of darkness, a trace of fear, left inside me, the Maze would never find it. “Do your worst. You will never, never, never defeat me.”

  The Maze gave me a speculative look through Ramuell’s eyes. “I never thought to be beaten by a creature as low as you.”

  “Yeah, well, I have a long history of not living up to people’s expectations of me,” I said.

  The Maze gave a short bark of laughter. “Lucifer’s will beats strongly inside you. I should have seen this.”

  “It’s not Lucifer’s will,” I said. “It’s mine. Now, if we’re not going to dance anymore, take me to Gabriel.”

  Ramuell bowed to me. “As you wish, my lady.”

  The corridor we stood in slowly lightened. I realized the structure of the Maze was disappearing. The walls and ceiling faded away until we stood on an open, rocky clearing surrounded by the enormous trees of Amarantha’s forest. In the center of the rocks was a cage, and inside the cage was Gabriel, looking at me in astonishment.

  I started toward him.

  “I have not enjoyed playing the game so much in many years,” the Maze said behind me.

  I didn’t look back as I answered. “Wish I could say the same.”

  Ramuell’s laugh echoed behind me, and then slowly disappeared. I didn’t care. I only had eyes for Gabriel.

  I slowed as I approached the cage. Gabriel sat in the dead center, well away from the bars. He squatted on his haunches, still dressed in the ridiculous loincloth of Amarantha’s. There were burn marks on his wrists from the cuffs she had put on him. He looked haggard and exhausted, but there was something in his eyes that I hadn’t seen when he’d first entered Amarantha’s throne room. Hope.

  “Madeline,” he said, and his voice sounded raspy and underused. “The cage is bespelled.”

  I nodded. “Right. On the off chance that I actually made it here Amarantha wouldn’t have wanted it to be easy for me. You can’t touch the bars?”

  He shook his head. His dark hair, normally so impeccably groomed, hung in lank and sweaty tendrils around his cheeks.

  “I saw something like this in the Forbidden Lands,” I said. “The Grigori used cages that caused the nephilim unspeakable pain whenever they touched the bars.”

  “That is what happened to me when I touched them,” he said.

  I studied the bars for a minute, and then the sword wanted my attention. “Of course. Stand back as far as you can, Gabriel.”

  I swung the sword near the top of the cage and it cut cleanly through the bars. I slashed it at the bottom and several bars fell outward, creating a makeshift doorway. They sparked as they hit the rocks.

  “Step out carefully,” I said.

  Gabriel folded his wings as small as he could to his back and inched through the bars. I didn’t breathe until his bare feet touched the rock and he stood before me.

  He put his hand on my cheek and I sank into his touch, all the horror and blood and fatigue of the last several hours coming back to me. It hadn’t been real, but it had felt real when it was happening.

  “Gabriel,” I said, and there was a lifetime of longing in his name.

  “You came for me,” he said, wonder in his eyes, his lips a breath from mine.

  “Of course I did,” I said, and then he gave me what I needed.

  After a long time we came apart, mouths swollen from kissing. He wiped the tears that I didn’t know I cried from my cheeks.

  “I believe Amarantha will be quite shocked when you return with me,” Gabriel said.

  “Then let’s go shock her,” I said. “And remind me to give that bitch a smack in the mouth just on principle.”

  “Well, well, isn’t this a touching scene,” said a sneering voice behind me.

  I turned around to see Antares standing a few feet away, looking quite the worse for wear. One of his horns had been sliced in half and he was covered in whip marks. Blood streamed from a nasty-looking cut above his eye.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I said. “What are you, part cockroach? How did you get out of the Maze?”

  “The walls suddenly disappeared,” Antares said. “I assumed that meant I had defeated it.”

  No, I thought sourly. I defeated it, and you just got the benefits. Apparently the Maze wasn’t done having fun with me yet.

  “So now that I have defeated the Maze, I will return with the thrall and claim all honors from my master Focalor,” Antares said.

  I was tired, I was hungry, and I really just wanted to go home. I was not in the mood to play games with Antares.

  Before he could think, I summoned a ball of nightfire and then turned it into a rope. The rope lashed around him and he cried out in surprise. I pulled on the rope and swung it to one side to launch him into the cage that had so recently held Gabriel. Antares slammed into the electrified bars and howled in pain.

  Somehow I knew that the sword could rebind the bars that it had so recently cut. This new knowledge was more than a little disconcerting. It was like having Evangeline inside me again. As useful as the sword had been for me, I wasn’t sure I wanted another entity working through me.

  I waved the sword at the fallen bars and they lifted from the ground, rejoining the rest of the cage. Before Antares had stopped screaming I had pressed the blade to the cuts in the metal and they instantly resealed. Antares was trapped.

  “What was that again about claiming honors from Focalor?” I asked.

  Antares glared at me. “You will pay for this, sister.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. You see, you are an outcast from Azazel’s court. That means that Focalor is in big trouble for harboring you against the laws of Lucifer’s kingdom in addition to all of his other crimes. It also means that Azazel will be very happy to know your location.”

  I leaned close to the cage and showed Antares my teeth. “Do you think our father will be happy with you when he finds you?”

  Antares couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. “I will be long gone before Azazel arrives.”

  “We’ll see. These cages have bound the nephilim for thousands of years.”

  He scuttled on his knees to the bars, but was careful not to touch. “When I am released from this cage, sister, I will . . .”

  “Tear out my entrails, eat my eyeballs, cut off my tongue, blah-de-blah-blah. Get a new tagline,” I said.

  Then I turned my back on him, took Gabriel’s hand in mine, and walked away to the sound of his furious howls.

  We had walked for a while in silence when I said, “Do you have any idea where we are?”

  He shook his head. “I was blindfolded and placed in the cage. The cage was then put in the heart of the Maze and my blindfold removed. I am sure that Amarantha did this deliberately to prevent my assisting you should you reach me. But, Madeline, we do have wings.”

  I smiled at him. “I don’t know why I always forget that. It would probably be a lot easier to find Amarantha’s castle from the sky.”

  He grinned back, and despite the obvious suffering he had endured he was still the handsomest man I had ever seen. Suddenly he went still, coughed, and blood covered his smile. It was then that I saw the arrow protruding from his chest
.

  “Gabriel!” I shouted, and he fell heavily to the ground on his side.

  “Oh, gods above and below,” I said, falling to my knees. I was sure this wound would be nothing to him if he wasn’t so weak already. But he had been tortured and abused for days, and likely starved. I put my hands over the wound in his chest. “What should I do?”

  “Arrow,” he said, and it was a struggle for him to get out that one word.

  “Right, get the arrow out,” I said. Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly. The tip had sliced cleanly through his skin so I needed to break the shaft and then pull each half from his front and back.

  But I didn’t get a chance, because that was when the train wreck hit me. Again.

  A huge and heavy body knocked into me and sent me flying. I slammed into a tree and fell to the ground, dazed. Samiel stalked toward me, his green eyes furious and insane—Ariell’s eyes. He wore a bow slung over his shoulder. I scrambled to my feet and blasted him with nightfire before he had a chance to get his paws on me. I wasn’t about to let him beat the crap out of me again.

  The nightfire hit him square in the chest. I could see it rend his skin, leaving a horrible burn. But he didn’t make a noise, and he didn’t stop. He just kept coming at me, hands curled into fists.

  I gave him another blast and then dodged out of the reach of his hands. He simply turned and continued to come after me with the same bullheaded determination. Pain didn’t seem to affect him.

  I felt a little squiggle of panic. Then I saw the sword that I had dropped at Gabriel’s side. I called it to me and it came to my hand. As Samiel approached, I swung the sword down toward his chest.

  And he took it right out of my hand, even though the blade sliced his palm open. He flipped the sword in an instant and slashed it down toward me. I held my hand up like an idiot to block his blow, and the blade sliced off the last two fingers of my left hand.

  I screamed and gave him a full blast of nightfire in the face. He couldn’t ignore that, so he dropped the point of the sword to the ground and backed away for a minute, rubbing his eyes. He still had not made a single sound.

  “Okay,” I said, cradling my injured hand to my chest. Blood spouted from the stumps of my fingers in quick bursts. I pushed my wings out and winked out of sight.

  I wasn’t going to stand there and let Samiel chase me all over the clearing. My magic was ineffective against him. He had taken my sword and part of my hand. My best bet was to grab Gabriel and fly out of there before Samiel had a chance to figure out what was going on.

  But as I spread my wings to fly up, Samiel grabbed my ankle. Right. He was an immortal. He could see me even though I would be invisible to a human. Stupid. My brain wasn’t working right. I was too tired from my ordeal in the Maze and, hey, just a little blood loss.

  I blasted his hand where it gripped my ankle but he held on tight. It was as if he’d been programmed to destroy me and he was not going to stop. Ever. He dragged me down and began to hit me in the face with the same steady determination that he had used the first time we’d met.

  It is very hard to strategize when you are being pummeled to death. But I had a flash of wrapping Antares in a rope of nightfire.

  I called up all my strength, all my will, all the power that had helped me survive the Maze. The clearing was suddenly lit with a blaze of sunlight, and I knew that it came from me.

  A sinuous strand of nightfire curled out of my palm and wrapped around Samiel’s arms. It whirled around him until he was bound completely from neck to midthigh. He fell to the ground and so did I, my eyes momentarily blinded from sweat and blood, and my head dizzy.

  After a minute I was able to get up, collect the sword, and stagger over to Samiel. He sat on the ground wrapped in the nightfire rope, and his face was furious.

  I knew that if I killed him, Lucifer would be pissed at me. Amarantha was right—Lucifer was fanatical about his bloodline. But if I didn’t kill Samiel, he would just keep coming after me until he succeeded in pounding me to a pulp.

  I raised the sword, intending to cut his head off. He watched me, not flinching, not making any attempt to save his own life. He was angry that he had lost, but there was also something resigned in his face.

  That resignation made me stop, made me lower the sword to the ground.

  Samiel shook his head at me, and he seemed angrier still that I had halted his execution. “Ed-by.”

  “Ed-by?” I said. “What is that, some kind of demon curse?”

  “Ed-by!” he shouted. “Ed-by, ed-by, ed-by, ed-by!”

  Something in the rhythm of his words reminded me of the vision I’d had of him and Focalor in the Forbidden Lands. Ed-by. Enemy.

  “Enemy?” I repeated and as I looked at him all the pieces clicked together.

  Samiel’s total silence in the face of pain. The grunting and gesturing he’d used to communicate with Focalor. The strange pronunciation of “enemy.”

  Samiel couldn’t hear.

  “Ed-by!” he shouted, and his green eyes were filled with furious tears that ran down his face. “Ed-by! ED-BY!”

  I backed away, shaking my head. Suddenly he didn’t seem like first cousin to the Terminator. He seemed like a lost and broken child. He’d come after me because he had seen me harm his mother, and now that I wouldn’t fight him he had nothing left.

  I sat down on a rock and covered my face with my right hand. What the hell was I going to do with him? He was an abused kid who’d been raised by two psychopaths. I couldn’t kill him, no matter what he had done to me and mine.

  My hand still bled, although the flow seemed to be slowing a bit. I held Lucifer’s sword to the stumps and they cauterized as my wounds had in the Maze. And yes, it hurt like hell and there was a lot of yelling involved.

  I ignored Samiel for a moment and crossed the clearing to Gabriel. He still breathed, although it was so slow and shallow that I wasn’t sure how long he would last. I broke the arrow in half and pulled it from his body, grateful that Gabriel was out cold. Then I used the sword to seal the wounds, and turned back to Samiel.

  He was rocking in the center of the clearing, his legs straight in front of him like a child’s. He kept repeating “ed-by” over and over again.

  I knelt in front of him and put my hands under his chin so he would look up at me. He yanked his face away from my touch and I dropped my hands.

  “I am not your enemy,” I said slowly and clearly. I’d seen him communicate with Focalor in the Forbidden Lands, so I assumed that he could read lips.

  “Ed-by,” he repeated stubbornly.

  I shook my head. “Not your enemy.”

  “Ed-by!” he shouted.

  I held up my hand to show him my missing fingers. “I have paid a blood price for harming your mother. Our quarrel is over.”

  He stopped shouting at me and looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. He clearly understood me if I spoke carefully.

  “Dead,” he said, although it was a struggle for him.

  “I did not kill your mother,” I said. “Ramuell killed her.”

  This was true. I had fought Ariell to a standstill, but Ramuell had eaten her.

  His eyes filled with tears again. “Dead.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But I am not your enemy.”

  He hung his head, and tears dripped off his face. I hated to keep him wrapped in the nightfire rope. It had to be causing him horrible pain even if he didn’t express it.

  I released the spell that held the rope together, and suddenly Samiel was free. He looked up at me in astonishment.

  I stayed crouched where I was, only a few inches away. I was taking a terrible chance. If I hadn’t gotten through to him, he would probably descend on me before I was able to respond.

  “I am not your enemy,” I repeated again.

  Then I put my hand over my heart, and reached my broken hand toward his chest. He went as still as a deer that hears a wolf in the forest. I covered his heart with my hand.

/>   “Friend,” I said.

  He looked down at my hand on his chest, the one that was missing two fingers, then up at me. His gaze was still suspicious.

  “Friend,” I said again.

  He closed his hand around mine, and I was struck anew by his overwhelming strength. I think he meant to be gentle but he was crushing my remaining fingers in a death grip.

  I nodded, trying not to show how much he was hurting me. If I yanked my hand away, he might change his mind and decide to attack.

  He gave my fingers a final squeeze, and then let go. I exhaled the breath that I had been holding and stood up. Samiel stood up, too, looking lost.

  “Do you know the way to Amarantha’s castle?” I asked him.

  He looked puzzled.

  “Faerie castle?” I tried again. There was no reason for him to know the queen’s name.

  His face cleared and he nodded.

  I gestured toward Gabriel. “Can you carry your brother?”

  Samiel glanced at Gabriel in surprise, then back at me. I knew what he was asking.

  “Same father,” I said. “Ramuell.”

  Samiel closed his eyes, and it seemed that he was not reliving happy familial memories. I could only imagine what it must have been like for him, growing up in the Forbidden Lands with an insane angel for a mother and a murderous nephilim for a father.

  Then he opened his eyes again, and gently lifted Gabriel into his arms. There was a heartbreaking tenderness on his face.

  He smiled for the first time, and it was like seeing the first blossoms of spring after a long winter.

  “Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” I said.

  That was when Beezle flapped into the clearing, looking completely exhausted. Samiel tightened his grip on Gabriel and stood in front of me, as if to protect me.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and made sure he was looking at my face. “It’s okay. Beezle’s a friend.”

  Samiel looked doubtful, but he stepped aside.