He looked at Mikal, who wondered at the depth of faith emanating from this man.
“Whatever the historical source, I truly believe that prayer came from God,” Garet said firmly, “but I believe He gave it to us for our benefit, as a way to affect ourselves, not the world. That’s the best I’ve got to work with, and I guess it’s always been enough for me.”
He smiled and clapped Mikal on the shoulder.
“Enough of this talk, though, my dear Seraph,” he said jovially, “let’s watch the fruits of our ingenuity. There’s a battle to be fought.”
Mikal smiled at him, as troubled as he was comforted by the mortal’s words. He led the way from their small fortress to the angels assembled near the Philion River. Long hoses led from the river to small boxes, which were in turn attached to nozzles. One of the relatively few gnomes in Heaven had developed the idea of pumping water from the river to spray on the demons, which would hopefully weaken or outright destroy the fiends. For the past week, Mikal had been baiting the demon prince Iblis in the hopes of drawing him toward their small fortress, which had been outfitted with every pump Dem could craft on such short notice. The tripartite angel and his assistants had worked nonstop to produce the pumps, and even now one of his incarnations continued his work in case they proved useful.
When the demons arrived, a wave of land-bound gremlins and imps led the way, speeding ahead of a mass of damned souls. Gradually the leaders of the Hellish army had started reintroducing the damned, realizing that whatever had happened during the fight between Kaelus and Azazel had apparently been a one-time fluke, or at least directly related to Kaelus’s presence. Since the demon was now back in Hell’s custody, they had obviously decided it was safe once more.
Uriel was on-hand with his Archangels flying overhead, and he led a fully recovered Doriel and several other flight commanders in a massive aerial campaign to protect Mikal’s forces from the air. Arrows streaked by overhead and tore into the demons’ ranks, subtly guiding them toward the areas where Mikal had the hoses prepared.
“Closer,” Mikal whispered, watching the distance between the ground forces. “Closer.” He raised his sword, ready to give the signal.
The demons crossed an imaginary line. There!
“Now!” Mikal shouted, sweeping his sword down.
Members of the blessed dead activated the pumps and heavenly water spewed forth from the nozzles and poured onto the on-coming demons, who screamed in agony and fell writing to the ground.
“It’s working!” someone shouted in exuberance.
Beside Mikal, Garet laughed heartily at the sight of demons falling back under an onslaught of nothing but water.
Just then, a wall of flame leapt up between the demons and the lethal sprays of water. Steam hissed and rolled off in black waves as holy water met infernal flame, and from their vantage Mikal could see that the demons were no longer touched by the heavenly liquid. After a moment to regroup, they started forward again – the wall of flame preceded them, protecting every step they made toward the angels on the ground.
“Iblis,” Mikal said through gritted teeth. “Garet, take word to the paladins on the right flank. I want them to charge in behind that wall and carve up as many of those fiends as they can. The hose crews are lightly defended, and if they get too close, they’ll be butchered.”
“Yes, sir,” Garet said. He saluted quickly, then hurried off.
- 3 -
Danner spun the wheel on the buggy and felt the back wheels fish-tail out behind him. He quickly compensated, regained control, then squealed the tires as he stomped on the accelerator. Clinging to the back and sides of the buggy were Michael, Marc, and Trebor, all of whom were slashing at anything demonic that came in range.
“Left, Danner, left!” Michael shouted from his spot just outside the passenger’s seat.
“Where do you think I’m going?” he yelled back.
They plowed through a weak spot in the demons’ lines, and as he crushed two creatures beneath the buggy, Danner had the odd thought about putting spikes on the wheels and marking them with the holy symbol. If he survived this war, he’d have to ask Faldergash if it were possible.
“Right!” Michael yelled.
“I’m going to push you off if you don’t shut the Hell up,” Danner shouted irritably. Nevertheless, he veered right and a few more demons were thrown aside as they sped by. Danner had been a little on-edge ever since they crossed into Hell, like some inner tension had knotted in his chest and was tightening a little more every day. He assumed it was a result of his angelic heritage, which made him wonder whether his uncle had experienced the same thing in Heaven.
“Are we clear yet?” Marc asked.
“Are we fighting demons this second?” Danner replied sarcastically.
“Nope,” Trebor said. “Guess that means it’s time to go back in.”
“How are they coming up there, Treb?” Danner called over his shoulder as he turned them around for another attack run.
“It’s hard to make out, but Brican says they found shelter of some sort,” Trebor replied. “Something about trees.”
“In Hell?” Michael said incredulously. “Has your cousin finally lost it?”
“Call it as you see it,” Trebor said with a shrug.
“Well, keep in touch with him to let us know when we can stop this suicidal driving,” Marc said.
“One more pass ought to do it,” Trebor said after a moment’s silent communication. “After that, we can speed forward and join them. Birch is saying the demons won’t be able to follow us into the trees, or whatever they are.”
“He’s the expert,” Marc said with a shrug.
“Let’s get to it,” Danner told them grimly as he hit the accelerator again. “Hang on.”
This time as they sped past the demon’s flanks, Trebor threw a pair of explosives into the larger clusters of demons. Danner didn’t want to use too many of them, but a couple here and there wouldn’t seriously deplete their supply, even limited as it was.
They spun around and made one final attack against the demons, then sped off into the distance where the others had escaped. Even without Birch to accelerate their journey, they quickly covered the ground the others had traversed on foot. Finally, they found the shelter Brican had spoken of, and it was indeed a large, dense grove of trees.
Siran met them at the edge and waved them in, and they were all shocked to see a smile on the elf captain’s face. Danner wove the buggy through the trunks, and just as he was thinking that a path would be helpful, the trees opened up into a clear trail just wide enough for the buggy to pass through. They still bumped occasionally over uncovered tree roots, but they were at least moving with more speed.
“What is this place?” Michael asked in wonder.
The trees all had white trunks and beautiful, luscious foliage that blossomed in rich shades of green that seemed somehow deeper and more pure than any color they’d ever seen before. Bright light, more like the light of Heaven than the molten light they had just left, shone down through the canopy, and even the air felt brighter and cleaner.
“I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it,” Marc whispered. “What are trees doing in Hell?”
“It’s a Grove of Holiness,” a deep voice said nearby, and they turned to see Birch leaning against a nearby tree. Danner quickly stopped the buggy and shut off the engine. Behind Birch, a large clearing housed most of the soldiers from Shadow and Halo companies.
“During the Great Schism, angels were killed on the lands that would one day become Hell, and demons were killed in the future lands of Heaven,” Birch told them as they climbed out of the buggy. “Their spirits lingered, much the same was as Abdiel’s did, and the combination of holiness and corruption created these living stands of trees,” he said, gesturing to the foliage around them. “Uriel assured me most angels cannot even see the Groves of Corruption in Heaven, much less enter them, so we should be safe for the time being until the demons
pass by.”
Danner stared about him in wonder.
“And you never saw these on your first trip, uncle?” he asked.
“Never. I didn’t know they even existed until Uriel told me about the Groves in Heaven, and I reasoned these might exist in Hell.” He smiled. “We needed protection, and I’ve said your destination matters more than your route here. I just never knew to look for these before.”
“If angels can’t see the ones in Heaven, how is it you saw this one here, uncle?” Danner asked. “I mean, your āyus is demonic, so…”
“I can only speculate, Danner,” Birch replied. “Perhaps it’s my humanity. Perhaps the Grove itself sensed that I’m a paladin. Your guess is as good as mine at this point.”
Michael heard a snapping sound and looked over at Marc.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked the Orange paladin.
“I was just…” Marc said guiltily. “I was taking a sample back with me to study. It’s not every day you get a chance to study a plant created in the immortal plane.”
“It will be fine, I’m sure,” Birch assured them. “Come and rest. Garnet has stationed lookouts at the edges of the Grove to keep an eye out for the demons.”
A sense of peacefulness and relaxation slowly crept over them as they followed Birch into the clearing, and they quickly joined the others in resting. When Danner awoke several hours later, he felt as though he’d slept for a week and was ready to take on every demon in Hell.
Which, he realized eventually, they just might have to do.
- 4 -
“It’s not enough, Mikal!” someone shouted. “We’re losing the water sprayers!”
Mikal launched himself into the air, spitting a balrog on his sword even as he looked toward the wall of flames. The encroaching inferno was being held at bay on the right flank, but on the left a wall of black steam had already engulfed the stationary emplacements where the sprayers were housed, and screams echoed out from the sickly cloud.
The Seraph looked about and spotted a vaguely humanoid patch of violet-colored smoke.
“Hariel!” Mikal called to her, and the Power solidified and turned to look at him. “Gather your force and fan the smoke. There are men and angels dying in there. Rescue them.”
The Power sent a terse reply and darted away, gathering Erelim and Parasim not currently engaged with an enemy in her wake as she drew nearer the flames. One unlucky angel was caught midair by a pair of swooping gremlins and hurled into the flames before anyone could react. Hariel spun in midair without missing a beat and sent two arrows racing after the demons, who followed their victim into the flames and were consumed.
The Philion threw up a reflection of the flames as they drew nearer, and Mikal ordered his ground forces to fall back behind the river. Angels who were able swooped down and lifted men across to safety.
Mikal heard his name and turned as Doriel flew past him to help Hariel and her impromptu flight of angels.
“Mikal, you’ve got to stop Iblis,” the Dominion said. “You’re the only one here strong enough to take him on, and without him these flames die.”
The angels had reached the smoke and were fanning their wings, blowing sickly steam away from the stone fortifications housing the water sprayers. Hariel solidified and picked off any demons foolish enough to approach the angels accompanying her, sending demons and damned souls alike to their doom as she fired arrows at a dizzying rate. Doriel led a handful of angels into the dissipating steam and rescued the men and angels trapped within, slaying the demons who yet lurked within the overrun fortifications.
“Doriel and Hariel, as soon as you’re clear, gather on me and prepare to charge,” Mikal ordered. He contacted the angel overseeing the right-most flank of sprayers, which was still holding firm, and gave him instructions as well.
Soon enough, Hariel’s flight formed up around him, and Mikal led them forward, flying toward the looming wall of flames at a suicidal speed.
“Now!” he ordered the angel waiting below, and immediately every sprayer on the line turned its stream of water to one point in the wall. Black steam hissed and billowed furiously from the point of attack, but a small hole opened in the wall just large enough for Mikal to fit through without singeing his wings. The others followed closely behind him, but the last Erelim was only halfway through when the flames redoubled and abruptly filled the gap. The angel’s torso and wings fell to the ground below and disappeared in a cloud of yellow smoke.
Mikal paid little heed, so focused was he on their quarry. Iblis was easy to find, blazing forth as he did like a fiery beacon. Even with the wall of flame a dozen yards away, Iblis’s infernal light shone still brighter as the demon prince exerted himself to maintain the Hellish flames. Mikal pointed and the angels accompanying him immediately unleashed a wave of arrows to clear the air between them of interfering demons.
Even as they flew closer, though, Iblis turned and sent a wave of flame scorching through the air, annihilating a pair of Parasim who couldn’t evade in time. Angels scattered and reformed, then broke up again as the demon threw a ball of flames in their midst. A balrog led a flight of gremlins to intercept them, and Mikal relied on Doriel and Hariel to direct the others, allowing him to focus on their target.
Mikal shouted at the demon prince to draw his attention, and Iblis turned his gaze on the Seraph.
“Mikal, so good of you to join the battle,” the demon taunted him. “I was concerned something had happened to you when you didn’t come to play sooner.”
“I had other concerns, Iblis,” he replied coolly, twisting in the air to avoid a poorly aimed glob of fire hurled by the fiery demon. “Rest assured, your death remains a priority.”
Iblis sent a storm of small fireballs at him, and Mikal summoned a round shield of power to deflect the marbles of flame. As soon as they passed, Mikal shrank the shield and hurled it at the demon. Iblis only just managed to avoid the incoming missile, and the delay allowed Mikal to close, putting the demon prince within reach of his sword. Iblis immediately crafted a blade of flame in his left hand and a shield in the other, fending off Mikal’s initial lunge in a shower of sparks.
Angel and demon engaged in a duel that, while not as personal or consuming as Aesthma’s and Uriel’s had been, was nevertheless a meeting of powers not seen since the days of the Great Schism. Iblis was one of the original lords of Hell, a prince of demons since the moment the first immortals had awoken and gazed on the realm of Pleroma crafted by their deities. Mikal was of the highest Choir of angels in Heaven, a Seraph trusted as a guardian of the Throne of God Himself. The ground itself trembled at the force unleashed by each, and any demon or angel foolish enough to approach was immediately consumed by the raw power cast off from the embattled immortals.
Whatever else was accomplished by their assault on the demon prince, his attention was solely focused on defeating Mikal, and the wall of flames that was maintained by his will quickly faded away. The battle raged on around them as the two remained locked in combat, and what felt like hours was compressed into seconds of timeless strain and immortal effort.
Mikal heard a shout and saw Doriel out of the corner of his eye. The Dominion had a balrog on his back, its whip wound about his arms and wings, pinning them to his side. A drolkul faced them and was drawing back a black scythe, preparing to plunge it into the Dominion’s chest.
Mikal spun and hurled a hastily summoned spear at the drolkul, saving Doriel’s life at the expense of opening himself to an attack by Iblis. He twisted desperately to avoid the demon’s sword, but Iblis instead swung his shield and seared Mikal’s left arm, knocking him to the ground. He rolled, but Iblis was just as fast and followed with a kick that just barely missed Mikal’s face. His emerald wings wrapped closely about him, Mikal kept rolling, Iblis chasing closely after him.
“Don’t flee, Mikal,” Iblis sneered. “Better this than witness your precious Heaven crumble to ash when Mephistopheles sits on the Throne of God.”
<
br /> The demon prince stayed with Mikal and threw streams of flame that scorched and burned the Seraph, who barely withheld a scream of pain as Iblis’s flame clung to him and began to break down his āyus. Their prolonged battle had weakened him and the demon’s direct hits were now beginning to finish him off. In desperation, Mikal looked for the Philion, hoping the healing waters might help stave off destruction. The waters of Heaven gleamed like a promise… one too far away for him to reach. Iblis was too close, his attacks too much for the rapidly fading Seraph.
“You’ve failed, Mikal,” Iblis taunted him, sending another wave of fire after him. “All your efforts, all your powers, all your tricks, all for naught. Where you kill one of us, a thousand more take its place. Where you create a mountain, we tear it down. Where you move a river, we corrupt the land and drive it away.”
“You know, Iblis,” Mikal replied, closing his eyes and gathering his remaining strength, “that is a brilliant idea.”
With a wrench of his will, Mikal bent the Philion and brought the River of Love immediately below him, plunging him into the healing waters and extinguishing the flames wrapped about him. Iblis was too close, the change too sudden, and the fiery demon prince followed Mikal down into the water with a scream that drowned out even the furious hiss of black steam that erupted from his impact with the Heavenly water.
Under the river’s surface, Mikal slowly opened his eyes and watched Iblis’s writhing flames blazing only a few feet away. Rather than confront the demon, Mikal fanned his wings and moved to the edge of the river to lay down on the bank. He watched without expression as Iblis was slowly destroyed by the river, which still boiled and steamed around the demon prince.
And then Mikal witnessed the impossible. One instant Iblis was trapped below the surface of the Philion, his āyus on the verge of being extinguished along with his fiery flesh, and the next the demon had vanished completely. Water rushed to fill the spot where he’d been moments before, and the steam immediately dissipated without the demon’s incendiary presence.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 54