by Peach, Hanna
Vix, I hope you know what you’re doing.
With one last glance at Vix’s soul and a small prayer that she would survive, Alyx slid down from the roof to the entrance and slipped inside the doors.
Just inside was a dim entry hall, one that would have held rows of shoes and sandals of prayer-goers. From the entry hall there was a skinny arched corridor with bathrooms on either side, doors now closed, where devotees could wash. At the end of the corridor she would have to pass through a final set of doors to get into the heart of the mosque. There was no one else here. She could hear the muffled sounds of fighting outside.
Alyx crossed the entry hall and stepped quietly into the dark corridor. The walls and tiled floor felt like they were closing in on her. The hairs on her skin rose from the chill fingering her from all sides. Even sound died in here, the outside noise of fighting taken over by a deafening silence. Alyx had the sense that she just stepped into her own coffin.
Perhaps she had.
On the other end of this passage was Michael, an all-powerful Michael with unknown amounts of stolen magic to wield. And her? Why did she think that she could take him on? Her, with her flimsy mirage and the blood tattoo marks like children’s drawings covering both her arms. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. Nothing but death.
Her step faltered. She could run. She could turn back now and escape. She could live. She could slip into the confines of Purgatory and hide away and try to forget that the world was burning without her.
As soon as she thought of it, the urge to run died away. There was no life without defeating Michael. No life beyond Israel, who was beyond those doors. Even if she ran there would only be death waiting for her. She pulled out a long dagger, her eyes on the door at the end of this corridor.
Come then, death. I’m ready for you.
Chapter Forty-Three
At the end of the archway Alyx tested the door handle. It was unlocked. She squeezed open the door just a crack, the sound of her heart thudding in her body seemed to echo in this passageway. Inside the mosque was a huge room covered in a blood red carpet. Thick sandy-colored pillars circled the center of the room and held up the tall mosaicked dome above. Glass and iron lanterns fell on long chains from the high ceiling in circular patterns extending out across the room from the inner edge of the dome, lighting the space in a warm flickering glow. On the far edge of the underside of the dome was Israel, mounted on a wooden cross that was secured between two pillars, the floor and the ceiling. Israel’s head was slumped over so his chin was at his chest. Michael was beside him, securing his right forearm to the cross with rope, his wrist facing out.
She arrived just in time. There was no blood flowing yet from Israel’s wrists. He was alive and unharmed. So far. At the sight of him, Alyx’s heart smashed into the inside of her ribcage like an animal furious to be freed. Her blood roared through her veins like a thunder of horses and she fought the urge to throw herself at Israel and tear off his bindings. She ordered herself to hold back. Patience, Alyx. Patience.
Any impulsive move would bring Michael’s attention to her, and be the end of them all. To win against Michael, with all his stolen magics, she needed the advantage that stealth would bring her.
She tore her eyes from Israel and focused on Michael. He had moved to Israel’s left hand and was now tying his other wrist, his back to her. Swirls of hatred licked inside Alyx’s body and she welcomed them.
Feeling secure under her mirage, she gripped her dagger tighter. Michael’s back was her only focus, the only thing she could see. She imagined where his black bitter heart lay in amongst his ribs and lungs. That was where her dagger would rest.
She pushed the door open wider, excruciatingly slowly. Almost there, almost wide enough to let her through.
Now.
She slid her body sideways through the gap and into the mosque. An incense, something musky and sweet like one of the desert flowers outside, reached her nose. The air in here was hot compared to the air in the corridor and her skin tingled with the change in temperature. Keeping her feet off the carpet and the rest of her body perfectly still, she cut silently through the air towards Michael.
As she neared the center of the mosque, she could see that the carpet had been torn back from the floor under the dome. In the stone foundation was a huge circle, mirroring the circle of the dome above, running along the inner edge of the pillars. It was the Hell Gate. Within the circle were engraved lines making a pattern that she couldn’t quite make out from here. Alyx felt bile rise in her throat. These divots were where Israel’s blood would run when Michael cut open his wrists. Israel’s blood, his tri-blood − Seraphim, demon and mortal − would drip onto the Gate, filling up all of the engravings, to open it.
She would not let this happen.
Her muscles coiled, tense and ready, adrenaline surging through her veins, as she flew towards him, barely daring to breathe. Michael hummed, sounding pleased with himself. He gripped Israel’s forearm and drew a dagger from his side as if to slash his wrist.
Now.
Alyx launched forward, thrusting her dagger into his back. Michael spun and his blade smashed against hers. Alyx choked back her surprise. How? Her mirage was still working. She was invisible.
“Did you think I wouldn’t realize you were there?” Michael said, his voice booming out across the cavernous space. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand so she couldn’t get away. She grabbed his with hers. They grappled with each other’s wrists, both daggers pointed towards the other. Michael wasn’t trained as a warrior but he was strong. Stronger than she imagined he could be. Michael’s icy blue eyes flared and a grin crawled across his face. “Sorry. I’m being cruel. I should stop toying with you.”
He twisted her wrist in a burst of strength that shocked her. Her forearm flared in pain and she dropped her dagger. It clattered to the ground.
Oh God, she realized. He’s stronger than I realized.
Michael kicked her. She flew backwards through the air and landed on the ground. Pain jolted through her body, causing her to drop her mirage.
“You won’t win, little girl. Not against me.”
Behind Michael, Alyx caught sight of Israel’s head moving, just a slight rolling of his head. She heard him groan, a low, pained moan that echoed softly across the expanse of room between them.
Michael spun towards Israel, taking his eyes off Alyx. “Wakey, wakey. That sleeping drug Tii’la gave you is a bitch, isn’t it? It might take you a while to actually wake up.”
Alyx miraged herself again and moved silently around in a curve, ever closer to Michael.
“You’ll miss the tragic death of your girlfriend.” Michael spun back around towards where Alyx had been. His face registered a momentary frown when he realized she wasn’t there anymore. His eyes moved around the cavern as if he were trying to peer through her mirage. For a second she swore that he looked straight at her, his icy blue eyes sending a shiver cascading down her spine. “Do you really think miraging yourself is really going to stop me from finding you?”
Hopefully just for as long as it takes for me to kill you. Alyx kept circling him, moving closer and closer as she did.
Michael flicked out waves of Air magic using just the tips of his fingers. He turned and did the same in a different direction, searching the room for her. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Alyx begged her heart to remain steady as his Air pulses grew closer and closer. She wasn’t close enough to him as she wanted to be yet. But one more pulse and she would be discovered.
She had no choice. She pulled at Jordan’s DreamWeaver and let out a furious pulse. He spun and countered with a DreamWeaver pulse of his own. Their pulses smashed into each other with an explosion that echoed through the mosque. Electricity crackled through the air as blue sparks spat across the mosque, adding their own eerie cold light to the lanterns.
Alyx darted around Michael throwing everything she had at him, praying that one of
her magics hit him. She threw DreamWalker at his chest to try and weaken him, EarthWeaver at his feet to destabilize him, MemorySong at his head to try and stun him, FireTwirler at his heart to try and burn him. She even used Alchemist to turn the air molecules around him into shards of metal to try and wound him.
But none of her attempts hit him. None of them came close. He countered each one with a flash of his palm as if they were flies, pesky and annoying but ultimately harmless.
Finally her last pulse of magic threw out from her hands. Her heart sank to see Michael merely slap it to the ground, where it clattered across the carpet like glowing marbles before dissipating into thin air. She felt her mirage begin to stutter. Even that magic was running out. Like her hope.
Michael’s gaze found her. He smiled, a slowly crawling, slithering smile. That sight alone was enough to make her hairs stand on end and her heart skip a beat and her resolve crack. What was she doing here? What made her think she could take Michael on by herself?
“Running out of magic, are we? Too bad. I was enjoying our little tete-a-tete. For someone with no intrinsic magic of her own, you’ve given me a remarkably good warmup.”
He spoke about her magic attacks as if they were tennis balls thrown to him from across the net so he could practice his return. They probably were to him, she realized. Michael was right. She had no chance of winning against him. He was too strong, warped by the thievery of magic from other Seraphim.
Like Symon.
She would die. And Symon would have died for nothing.
Michael slammed his palms out to her. For the split second before it hit her, she recognized the glaring white light as AirWhisperer magic. It slammed into her, knocking her back and against the wall. All breath was crushed out of her.
She slid to the ground with a thud. Her body ached all over but her limbs felt numb.
Alyx? She heard Israel call softly to her. Where are you?
Her breath entered sharply through her lungs. I’m coming.
Alyx, I can’t open my eyes. I can’t move my body.
You’ve been drugged.
Angel, I just want to go back to sleep.
Fight it, Israel. Fight it and wake up.
The thought of Israel was the only light in her world right now. She had to get up. She tried to force feeling back into her arms as she tried to push herself up.
I am not defeated, Alyx thought firmly. Not while there is still life in my veins.
“Do you hear that?” Michael raised his hand dramatically to cup his ear. “That’s the sound of an entire demon army waiting hungrily beyond that Gate. I think it’s about time to let them in.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“Michael,” Alyx implored as Michael moved towards Israel, “you don’t have to go through with this.”
Michael didn’t even look at her when he replied. “Oh, but I must. In the name of God, I must.”
“God would never allow the complete destruction of an entire race of people. God loves all his creations on Earth, including humans.”
Michael spun. “God doesn’t care about these humans. He doesn’t care about this planet. He doesn’t even care about us.”
“He does, he just−”
“He left us here!” Michael roared. “Our father left us here to rot without him. He shut up the gates to Heaven two thousand years ago and he left me here all alone, to fend for myself, to struggle without him. Don’t tell me that is a sign of love.”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Alyx realized. Her heart softened with pity. “You’re angry at him.”
“Shut up.”
“You hate him for the neglect you think he’s shown you. That’s why you want to do all this, a boom that would be heard all around the world. Perhaps if you make it big enough, it’ll get his attention.”
“Shut up!”
“Michael, you need to understand, he didn’t leave us here because he stopped loving us. He left us here because it was what we needed to grow. He left us here because he loves us. Your father loves you. Don’t do this.”
Michael’s cold faced cracked. His eyes misted over as if he was remembering something...or someone. “My father…” Michael’s face softened and he looked so much like a boy. A lost and lonely boy. It only lasted a moment. A mere second. Alyx could see the wave of bitterness descending over him, refreezing everything in its path. “You don’t know anything!” Michael roared.
She tried again. “Our father loves us. He loves me. He loves you.”
She watched helplessly as the final piece of Michael’s heart froze. “My father does not love anyone.”
Michael flung AirWhisperer at her. It picked her up and slammed her against the wall again. Her world went white with pain. Alyx felt the plaster crack underneath her back before she fell. She fought to hold onto consciousness as she hit the ground.
All she could think as she teetered on the brink of consciousness was that Michael was too far gone, anger having consumed him completely. He could never change. Not now. It was too late for him. This made her feel, above anything else, even above the pain throbbing inside her body, an incredible sadness.
Chapter Forty-Five
“Ah, good,” Michael said. “You’ve woken up just in time for the best bit.”
Israel was awake! Through her blurred vision, Alyx sought his face. His eyes were fluttering open, his chin was up, looking around the room until he found her. Even amidst this impossible situation, his face shone with love. Alyx felt her chest fill with purpose. Love would be her shield.
She saw him look up at Michael as he approached, the dagger glinting in his hands. Israel struggled helplessly against the rope bindings.
“No, please,” Alyx croaked out. Her voice was barely audible even to her own ears and it did not make a difference. Michael lifted up his blade to Israel’s forearm. And slashed down.
Alyx catapulted into Israel’s mind. She felt the burning line of pain at his wrist where Michael had cut him. She heard Michael’s heavy breathing as he moved to his other side. She felt him struggle to pull his arm free of his bindings, his arms grazing against the rough rope. She let out a cry, a duel cry with Israel, when Michael slashed open his other wrist.
She saw through his eyes the ruby red drops of life falling from his wounds and onto the Gate below into two small pools below. The pools started to spread, oozing along the engraving. Where his blood flowed, a dark red glow appeared.
Alyx struggled to push herself up to sitting. Her body hurt so much. She was sure her ribs were broken, and she could feel blood pooling underneath her skin where she had slammed against the wall.
“Are you still trying to get up?” Michael laughed at her. “It’s actually quite admirable, all of you are. Even your pathetic little army out there.”
Michael strode over to Alyx, his footfalls sounding like giant’s steps. Israel’s voice in her head was the only thing keeping her going. Come on, angel. Get up.
Alyx rolled to try and gain distance from Michael, ignoring the cries of her bruised flesh. But she couldn’t move fast enough. Michael grabbed her from behind and curled his arm around her, forcing her neck into the crook of his elbow. She pushed at his arm and punched at him, but her feeble attempts were all but ignored by him.
“I told my army to dip your white sashes in blood when they killed one of your traitorous soldiers,” said Michael, his voice booming through the mosque. He stopped before one of the few arched windows of the mosque and pointed through it with his blade, still dripping with Israel’s blood. “Watch. Watch as your hopes turn to blood.”
Through the window a black army and a white army clashed in the night sky like warring insects. Even as more and more Seraphim arrived to join both sides, the black still outnumbered the white.
What’s going on out there? Israel asked her.
I convinced them all to fight. Jordan, Cleo, Vix…your father… Alyx bit back the guilt that retched up her throat. She could do nothing but stare in horror as one
by one, the white symbols of hope turned bloody. Another Seraphim dead. Another soul wasted.
“See what you’ve caused with your…resistance?” Michael said. “You could have saved them. You could have accepted my gift of this world to them, just for them, but instead you chose to sacrifice them to try and save your precious little humans and your disgusting half-breed lover.” Michael leaned in close. His next words were a whisper and spoken as if he were a lover. “Every drop of their blood is on your hands.”
Michael’s arm loosened from her neck. She collapsed to the carpet, her body weakened further with guilt. Her fingers scratched at the lush carpet as she struggled to crawl away.
“You’ve become boring to play with.” Alyx felt thick Air magic rolling her onto her back and pressing her down so she was pinned. “Send my regards to our father for me.”
She screamed as Michael raised his sword up.
Chapter Forty-Six
“You got any enemies left for me?”
Jordan struck a black warrior with DreamWalker, causing him to collapse on the ground. He turned to see Balthazar at his side. Balthazar lunged at a black warrior almost gleefully.
“About bloody time, Balthazar,” Jordan said.
“You know me. Fashionably late. I like to make an entrance.”
Balthazar had come with reinforcements. A small group of Darkened surged around them, all armed to the teeth, their second faces flashing with menace, and all of them wearing white.
Jordan scanned the battlefield. Wasn’t this a day for the history books, he thought as he stared around the battlegrounds. Seraphim and demons fighting alongside each other for one cause.
But it wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly enough to tip the odds in their favor.
“Not to sound ungrateful,” said Jordan as he sent out more DreamWalker pulses and struck out with his sword, “but they’re all you could wrangle together?”