by Meg Collett
“I can’t get your dead into Heaven, Iris. I can’t even get myself there,” Michaela said. The rock walls were closing in on her. The lantern’s light danced like ghosts on the ceiling.
“Since I was born, I knew I was different. Right away, I saw things. I knew the future, however shifting and fleeting it was. I didn’t know everything, but I’ve always known there would come a time when we would have our chance to go home. When you left Heaven’s gates open, the fate of the world shifted.”
Michaela stepped back. Her heart’s beat was like hammer pounding a nail in her head. “No. That was a mistake. It was only an awful mistake.”
“It was everything, Michaela. It wasn’t a mistake. It was your destiny.”
“No.” Michaela barely choked out the word. Her whole existence would not be defined by that moment. It wasn’t fate. It was an awful mistake she wanted to forget.
“I’ve always known I would have to make hard decisions and sacrifices, just like you.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Michaela said, thinking about Iris’s kindness and the sacrifices she’d made for her family. Michaela just wanted to climb out of the catacombs and away from the dead that seemed to be staring at her, waiting for her to say the right things. Iris smiled at her.
“You’re right.” Michaela’s eyes jerked back to Iris’s face. “You’re so much more than I am.” Iris stepped around the lantern and took Michaela’s hand. “I can only see versions of the future, but you can change it. You can make it.”
Michaela was too numb to pull her hand back. She was none of the things Iris thought she was. She was a destroyer. Not a redeemer.
“Michaela, listen to me. Since I was a little girl, I knew there would come a time of hard decisions and loss. But it will also be a time for change and revelations.”
“You’re saying it will be. You’re saying now isn’t the time of loss? When everyone and everything around us is dying?” Michaela wanted to scream. “We are at the brink of the End of Days, and you mean this isn’t the worst part?”
“We can have a war if we want it, Michaela. You told Gabriel you wanted one that day in my fields.”
Michaela’s mouth hung open in shock. Finally she managed, “What? This is that war now!”
“No.” Iris shook her head. “This is just a test of our strength, Michaela. The real war is yet to come—if we want it. If we do, if we find our strength and fight back, this will be the war that brings us all back to the light.”
Iris squeezed Michaela’s arm. Her eyes were kind and comforting. “You’re strong. You fight because you know what is right. This is what is right. We all need our home back. All of us. You can bring us that.”
Michaela had to look away. The tears were spilling down her cheeks. Iris brushed at them, her fingers soft against Michaela’s skin. “I’m so tired. The fighting never ends. And everyone dies. I can’t lose anyone else.”
Michaela’s voice broke. She thought about Gabriel, and if he had been in those woods when the Aethere discovered her trick. He could’ve died, reduced to feathers. Her greatest love could’ve…disappeared before she even knew if their love mattered.
“Do you want to know how I found the strength to leave Clark and Isaac when I did?” Michaela could only nod. “I was scared. At first I was angry, because it didn’t seem fair. I had a man I loved and who loved me. I had a precious little boy that meant the whole world to me.
“It was the hardest thing in the whole world to see our futures laid out before me. I knew our possibilities. I knew there might be a world in which we lived where my husband and son would fight for a failing war and die. In that world, the dead Nephilim would be stuck in their undying bodies for eternity. I knew it was possible. But there was hope too. There was hope for another future. And that future meant I would have to leave behind what I held most dear to me.
“So yes, I was scared and resentful at first. But my family’s love gave me the strength to fight for a future we deserved.”
Deserved.
Michaela choked on a sob.
“You can find that strength too, Michaela. You have someone who gives that to you. Don’t be the one to take that away from yourself.”
Michaela met Iris’s eyes.
Gabriel.
“Let him love you through the hard times. Love him when you’re weak. You are unbelievably strong, Michaela, but let him be your strength when you’re tired. Because if you choose this war, things will get hard. But you can also choose to love the one who can make it all worth it.”
Iris’s words were her great hope of convincing Michaela. To Iris and to all the Nephilim and to the Archangels and to Clark and to the outcast, wingless angels, she was their great hope for a future where they could return home.
She wanted to laugh.
She wanted to cry.
She was the one they depended on to return home when she never could.
“How will I know when it’s time to decide?” she asked.
“Trust me, you’ll know. That will be the easiest part.” Iris smiled, but it faltered fast. “Michaela, no matter what you choose, I understand. But I have one more favor to ask of you. It will be the last thing I ever ask from you.”
“What is it?” Michaela asked. She saw the growing desperation in Iris. It morphed over the strength in her face and drowned out the talk of love and war. Fear was an odd look on her. It made her frail and human. This wasn’t the woman who spoke of wars and destiny a moment before. This woman was scared.
Iris clenched Michaela’s arm. “Isaac is…” The tears were already starting to brim. “Isaac doesn’t have much longer. I need…I need…” The tears spilled over and crashed down Iris’s cheeks. “I need you to bring my boy back. Now is the time to bring Clark home. He needs to be with his dad now. Please, Michaela, please do this one thing for me.”
Iris’s tears dripped from her face and onto Michaela’s arm. She had struggled to understand a war for a future she could never have. She didn’t understand how Gabriel’s love could help her find the way. But bringing Clark home was something she understood. That was a fight she could choose.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll bring him back to you.”
41
As Michaela made her way, limping and cringing every step, to the closest hatch, she couldn’t help but wonder how in the hell she was going to actually get into Hell. She knew the way, of course, but only fallen angels were allowed to enter. Clark was the only exception Michaela knew of, but even he was Lucifer’s guest.
And she certainly wasn’t.
Her thoughts were focused on that as she heaved the hatch open and emerged into the bitter frost outside. Her leg was already aching from the short trip. Panting, she heaved herself outside.
She collapsed on the frozen ground with a sigh. The hatch slammed shut from the wind. Staring at the dull, hazy sky filled with un-judged souls, she tried to think of a plan.
The dead grass crunched behind her head beneath the heavy tread of footfalls. But she knew that smell, that even way of breathing. The steps stopped. Gabriel’s face came into her field of vision, blocking her view of the sky.
“Your leg?” he asked.
Michaela nodded. From this view, she could only see his black eyes, but they were light enough now that she could distinguish the iris from the pupil. It was a little thing, but it helped.
He extended a hand to help her up and steadied her as she hopped on one leg. Testing her weight, she grimaced. But she could make it. She shifted out of Gabriel’s hold.
“What are you still doing here? You were supposed to go check on Clark,” she said. The accusatory tone slipped into her voice. That was the way she spoke to Gabriel these days. She accused him no matter what he did even if he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I knew Iris was going to talk to you. I also knew you wouldn’t pass up the chance to bring Clark back even though you can’t walk or fly or get into Hell.” Gabriel shrugged. “I understand now, Michael
a.”
Michaela’s eyes narrowed. “You understand what?”
“I’ve resisted you every step of the way since the day the fallen attacked Heaven. I took the scrolls and Clark from you because I didn’t think you could protect either of them. I didn’t want you to have to fight to keep them safe. I thought I was helping you. But now I realize you need it. You are a warrior. And taking away your fight was the worst thing I could do to you.”
His words stunned Michaela. It took her a moment to understand. When she did, she found herself without words. A million thoughts ran through her head. The anger and bitterness, like old friends, filled her mouth, ready to spew out hateful words. It was her natural defense with Gabriel, but it didn’t work anymore. Iris’s voice rang throughout her head and heart.
“So,” Gabriel continued, “I won’t take this from you. But I will help you. And you need to let me help you, because it’s the only way you’ll get in.”
Michaela’s gaze drifted to the ground, because she found she couldn’t look at Gabriel as he said those words. Something was happening inside her that she didn’t understand. It shifted and rustled, drowning out the hiss of the snake at her spine.
“Okay.” Her voice cracked over the word. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Okay.”
Gabriel beamed. The smile lit up his entire face, brightening his eyes. She had only seen that smile a few times in her existence. She had thought she would never see it again. He looked at her as if it wasn’t almost the end of the world and she was the only thing that mattered.
His smile captivated her, blinded her, so she didn’t see the massive shadow settle over them. The ground was doused in darkness. Any moonlight that had made its way past the souls was completely blocked now. She couldn’t even see Gabriel’s face. Her breath hitched.
They both looked up. Gabriel tightened his hold on her.
“Don’t shoot. It’s just me.”
Michaela blinked and squinted. She could just make out the outline of Loki’s form as he descended in front of them. He softly landed on the ground and shook out his wings. His wings.
Michaela’s mouth gaped open. No wonder Loki had eclipsed the scant moonlight. His wings were gigantic. His wingspan had to be nearly forty feet. Each wing’s height was twice that of Loki’s tall, thin form. But Michaela saw his face and clapped a hand of her mouth.
“Loki,” Gabriel said the name like a gasp of shock.
“What happened to you?” Michaela whispered.
Loki was emaciated. His face contained sinking hollows and jagged bones. The desolate look in his eyes was heartbreaking. In his horror, Gabriel didn’t even try to hold her back as she stepped forward and pulled Loki into a hug.
Loki tolerated the hug for a moment before he pushed back. “It’s the souls. There’s so many of them.” His eyes, glinting silver, cut over to his wings.
The feathers were magnificent. Hundreds of thousands of them gleamed, long and healthy, along both wings. Even as Michaela watched, she thought she saw the feathers breathing as if each plume was a living creature dangling from the cocoon of Loki’s wings, which, Michaela realized, they were. Each feather was a human soul, meaning Loki’s wings were truly alive. What little light hit them made the feathers look like hundreds of different colors, depending on how Michaela tilted her head.
But the souls, the feathers, were draining Loki, even if they made him look fearsome, like a true Angel of Death.
“You have to hurry,” Loki said when no one spoke.
Michaela nodded, forcing her eyes to look away from Loki’s feathers. “We are. We’re trying.”
Loki’s arm snaked out and grasped Michaela’s hand. His strength hadn’t waned much as he squeezed her bones painfully together.
“Easy, Loki,” Gabriel said, his voice low like a growl.
Loki released her and stepped back. “You have to try harder, Michaela. I can’t handle this much longer.”
He meant it too. A wild, feral glaze covered his pupils, like he too stood behind a veil of souls. “I’ve seen how this will end. They showed me.”
His voice wasn’t his own anymore. Michaela went to step closer to him, but this time, Gabriel held her back. “Who did? What did they show you?”
“You’re the only one, Michaela. Only you can fix this. But in the end, when it’s your time, I’ll help you. I’ll deliver you.”
The words hit her like a blast to her chest. She sagged in Gabriel’s arms. With a slash of his massive wings, Loki surged into the air, blasting them with a lash of wind. Gabriel staggered, but held onto her.
They heard his wings beating in the air above them. They heard them for a long time as Loki flew away. Only when the woods were quiet once again did Gabriel turn Michaela to look at him.
“What was that about?” she asked. She wanted to sound calm, but her voice quivered. Loki had sounded like he was talking about…about her death.
“Nothing. He’s crazy. Let’s get Clark, and then we will take care of him.” Michaela nodded, her eyes trailing back up to the sky. Gabriel shook her. “I’m serious, Michaela. Don’t listen to him.”
“Okay.” Michaela took a deep breath. She met Gabriel’s eyes. “Let’s go.”
Gabriel didn’t pause before he scooped her up. She knew what they had to do, but she forced herself to stay quiet; she wouldn’t freak out like she had the first time. When Gabriel took to the air with an almost casual beat of his wings, and she felt the press of the wind around their bodies, her heart shattered.
Gabriel was powerful. His muscles rippled and contracted against her as he flew. They were high, and the air beat against their bodies. She was thankful for the speed and force they flew, because the tears were streaming down her face. Between Gabriel’s words before Loki’s visit and flying with him again even if it was in his arms had ruined her heart.
She was loose pieces on the inside.
Loki had talked about her death.
Gabriel finally understood her, this Michaela, and not the old one.
She searched for her scattered parts as they flew. She ignored the journey and focused only on the impossible task of her reassembly, even as the air changed to water. She had to pull it together if she was going to fight her way into Hell to save Clark. She needed to be whole, a warrior like Gabriel had said. She couldn’t be reduced to shards at simple words.
Gabriel could repair her. Iris’s words floated through her mind. The pieces of her heart seemed to tag along. She saw it all there, ready and waiting.
Just then, she and Gabriel emerged from the waters and into Hell’s underground lagoon. She saw the wall of fallen guards before them as they rose from the water. Gabriel sat her down beside him. He would want to shield her, and had likely fought the urge to put her behind him. She snuck a glance at him. His jaw was clenching, contracting the sides of his face. Yes, he had hated setting her out in the open instead of behind his back.
“Let us through,” Gabriel said, commanded.
“Lucifer said you weren’t allowed in after the first born plague unless you swore not to take Clark away,” the fallen’s eyes settled on Michaela, “He said you especially weren’t allowed in if you brought her.”
All the fallen angels had swords at their sides, ready to use. Michaela had nothing to defend herself. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Gabriel’s hands were also empty.
“We will be going inside. You all can either allow us to pass, or I’ll move your bodies for you,” Gabriel said.
Michaela tested her weight on her leg. It was healing slowly with the bones reset and fusing back together. But pain still shot from her ankle up to her hip. She wouldn’t be much good in a fight.
The group of fallen angels shifted uncomfortably. They looked at one another, their faces conflicted. Michaela frowned. No one had yet to pull a weapon.
They fallen angel who had spoken before bowed his head and said, “Yes, sir.”
With a nod, the angels shifted. Gabriel started forward withou
t helping Michaela. She forced herself not to limp badly as she passed the fallen, who stared at her with unreadable, black eyes. Once upon a time, she’d been their General but not anymore. They closed in behind her, cutting off her exit. Her heart raced. Sweat slicked her palms.
The drawbridge before them did not lower as Gabriel walked to it. He looked back at her without a word. She stepped against his chest. His wings stirred her hair as she watched the fallen behind them. Gabriel flew across the gorge and the angels followed.
Settling down on the other side, Michaela looked at the huge wooden door in front of them. Gabriel was about to reach for the handle when an angel stepped forward, his hand on Gabriel’s arm. “Sir, allow me. The door will not be allowed to open for you.”
Michaela’s eyes drifted from the fallen to Gabriel, who nodded and stepped back. The hairs on Michaela’s arms stood on end. The fallen were letting them pass because they didn’t want to fight Gabriel.
When the fallen angel’s hand met the door’s handle, his body jerked like the door was electrocuting him. The muscles in his arm convulsed, but his grip stayed firm on the handle and he twisted it. Spasms wracked his entire body. His teeth ground together so loud Michaela heard it. His eyes clenched shut as he heaved his weight against the door. His expression was one of sheer pain and torture. A small sound escaped his mouth when he had the door fully opened. He sagged to the floor, his body limp and covered in a feverish sweat.
Gabriel stepped through in front of her and helped the fallen to his feet. He wrapped an arm around the angel’s body as he had done for Michaela. The angel was barely conscious.
The fallen were also protecting Gabriel.
Michaela couldn’t think too much on it, because more fallen angels stood in the hall before them. She counted nearly a hundred. But as Gabriel carried the wounded fallen, the angels parted before him. Michaela walked behind Gabriel, but the fallen angels barely looked at her. They nodded as Gabriel passed, their eyes nearly reverential.