Thornfalcon (The ARC Legacy Book 1)

by Matthew W. Harrill

  * * *

  She didn't look back as they reached the tunnel and using the flashlight, hurried along through the oppressive darkness. “I keep thinking he's there,” she said, jumping at yet another imagined noise.

  “It's just your mind playing tricks,” Io replied, not pausing to turn and look. “If he is back there, us stopping and staring into the darkness isn't going to be an advantage. All we can do is get to the plane. And then—”

  “We get some place safe, without flocks of birds,” Samantha finished the sentence for him.

  In the darkness behind, the rattle of dislodged stone echoed up the tunnel.

  “Run,” Samantha hissed. “Run now!”

  The flight through the tunnel was one of the most terrifying moments of Samantha's life. Io at her side, flashlight only giving them a sphere of guidance, they ran. The darkness swallowed the light behind them, an ever-yawning chasm chasing them. Heart thumping, she made a mental note of what she would have to do with the plane. Footsteps closed behind her, or were those echoes of her own feet? Of Io?

  Praying for the light, she ran until she thought her chest would burst. Ten minutes may have passed, or thirty. She couldn't tell. A hand reached out of the darkness to grab at her. She screamed and stumbled.

  “It's just me,” said Io. “Watch or you'll hit your head here.”

  Near blind in her frenzy, Samantha nodded and ran on, the flashlight casting wild shadows around the tunnel. She stumbled into the light of the airstrip, eyes closed, lungs protesting.

  “I'll hold the tunnel. You get the plane started.”

  Panting, Samantha nodded even as Io turned away. Forgetting all her pre-flight checks, she climbed into the cockpit and started the engine. The propeller whirred into life and she released the brake. “Get in!”

  Io turned and leaped, landing soft as a feather on the wing. He climbed in and closed the hatch. “Go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  With the advantage of the slope, Samantha swiftly had the plane airborne. Flying north she circled around to come back past Mount Willhelm.

  “Do you see the avalanche?” she asked, tilting the plane as they flew to try for a better view. The sun hung low in the western sky, mimicking the vivid crimson orb from which her father had arisen.

  “There's a disturbance in the distant jungle but most of this side of the mountain is in shadow now. You can circle around, have more of a look and let my brother throw things at you until he hits the plane, and he will hit the plane.”

  “Your brother? Did your memory return just now?”

  Io pursed his lips as he considered her question. “Not entirely. However the proximity to another of my kind added to taking such a beating couldn't help but knock some sense into me. And memories.”

  “Well, who are you?”

  “My name is indeed Ioviel, first among the Powers, the Order of Angels dedicated to maintaining and enforcing heaven's purity. I was on patrol. Ensuring the sanctity of Heaven is our most sacred task and we have had to be vigilant in the recent past. My problem arose when I was knocked from my patrol by a beam of energy. When I came to, I was in a ruined city, obliterated by my own descent.” Io's face crumbled, his eyes brimming.

  “Angels land, and the earth crumbles under the weight. Adreana found that out and we lost a companion. The Honihin lost a home.” Samantha sighed. “Calling Karael was my fault. We have to end this.”

  Io cleared his throat, “I fell,” he said, “Karael landed. The actions were the same. I know it was never my intent; we stay off the mortal plane unless given absolutely no other choice. We're just too dangerous. Karael embraces his role with unmatched zeal. He is an enforcer, one given the authority to despatch other angels. He's less concerned with the consequences.”

  “By who?”

  Io turned. “By the Most High. The Creator himself. Were we to descend here at a whim, it would mean easier access for those from the lower realm.”

  “You mean Hell?”

  Io frowned. “We do not speak that name. Not since our greatest champion chose to fall and enter the domain of the damned. He presides there for eternity.”

  “Satan was your greatest champion? Well I'm sorry to break it to you now that you've got most of your marbles back, Io, but that particular angel no longer exists. He was destroyed. My father now rules under his name.”

  “Your father?”

  Samantha shrugged. “So the story goes. My sister was abducted by a demon named Belphegor, taken to Hell to lure my mother there. Pop went along and it turned out he had an affiliation for the place and satisfied certain requirements. In order to keep everybody from harm, he chose to remain there. It all happened before I was born. They said what was down there was worse than Hell and they had to keep it sealed. Didn't you see what I did to distract Karael?”

  “No. I was out of it for a moment back there. Karael hits hard.”

  “Okay.” Samantha pulled the plane up to a safe cruising height and levelled out. “Let's just say that my father and I share a certain link. It's probably best you didn't see or you might have reacted the way your brother did.”

  “Intriguing. Maybe I'll get to see one day. No, all I remember is catching a glimpse of you and Adreana by the cliff. When I came to, I knew you were in danger, much like I did in Dubrovnik. The rest you know.”

  “Pop said to show my mother,” Samantha said, remembering her father's voice. “Io, didn't Adreana's behaviour strike you as odd at times?”

  “I don't follow.”

  She pulled out the sat phone. “She seemed particularly eager for you to step into the summoning circle. Go with me on this.”

  Samantha pressed the speed dial button once again.

  “Sammy, where in Hell's name did you go?” Her mother was never one for pleasantries.

  “I'm sorry, Mom. We were in kind of a tight situation. I had to move quickly, without distraction.”

  There was a strained pause on the phone. “You fled as we were attempting a rescue. Aeon Fall had you in a warehouse.”

  “That was you?” Samantha nodded at Io. “Adreana's actions make sense. Mom where are you now? Where's Charlotte?”

  “She's at the airport in Port Moresby with a large bump on her head and a temper to match. She was rescued from the hangar. They never moved her. I'm in Geneva, at the Chateau. And you?”

  “Flying south over the jungle with more questions than answers. We'll be at the airport in a couple of hours. Then we're coming to you. Mom, Porter Rockwell was here. In the flesh. He seemed to know we were coming out here which means he was here before us.”

  “Or somewhere between the Adriatic and your current location.”

  Samantha groaned. “Which only leaves us with half the world to look around. I take it he wasn't at the warehouse?”

  “No, just a few hired thugs. Locals out to make a buck.”

  Hesitantly, Samantha asked, “Was there a white guy? Bald? Tall?”

  “Not according to Charlotte's report. Was he important?”

  “Dangerous would be closer to the truth. His name's Lanier. Christopher Lanier. We think he's South African.”

  “We'll do a search.”

  “While you're at it, could you look up the name Adreana Black? Cross reference it with Aeon Fall.”

  “Certainly. Sammy, it's good to hear your voice. We'll see you soon.”

  “I've a few more surprises for you too, but that will have to wait. I've got to get back to the job of flying this plane.” She hung up, her mind still busy putting all the pieces together.

  “What do you mean, connecting Adreana with Aeon Fall?” Io asked. “She was nothing but helpful to us. She saved our lives more than once.”

  “And yet I have this nagging itch between my shoulder blades,” Samantha replied.

  * * *

  The remaining hour and a half of their return flight was to the backdrop of a glorious sunset and an angry red dusk. The redirected jet streams had done their damage, causing
what Samantha expected to low level disturbances all over the world. At least the winds to the West had stayed where they were. In darkness, they touched down at Port Moresby, parked the plane outside the hangar, and were about to exit the cockpit when three armored black sedans pulled up beside them.

  “Not taking any chances this time?” she said as Charlotte Benson opened the hatch, the warm, humid air flooding in.

  Charlotte's face was a mask of repressed fury. “In the car.”

  Feeling like a naughty schoolgirl, Samantha climbed out onto the wing.

  “Put him in the second car,” Charlotte ordered one of the people behind her.

  “Glad to see you're feeling better, Charlotte, but he stays with me.” Samantha jumped down from the wing and stood staring up at her guide in defiance.

  Io smiled as he climbed out past Charlotte, saying “There's not really a lot you can do to stop that.”

  “Got your mojo back, have you Ioviel?” Charlotte seemed unsurprised.

  “Something like that, but she's the one in charge.” Io pointed to Samantha.

  A vote of confidence from an angel and Samantha's heart swelled.

  “Careful,” Io said, his voice quiet as he passed. “Pride is one of the seven deadly sins.”

  Samantha followed him into the car. Charlotte behind them.

  “Go,” Charlotte said as she shut the door.

  “Yes, lady,” said a familiar voice.

  “Genesis Koto? Is that you?” Samantha felt relieved to see a familiar face.

  “Yes, Miss,” he caught her reflection in the rear-view mirror as he pulled away from the plane. “I see you managed to lose your third wheel, eh?”

  “I want to feel badly about that,” Samantha paused, remembering all that Adreana had done for them. “But I get the feeling we've been led around by her. It's so unfortunate we'll never know. She was caught in an avalanche.”

  “Mebbe not quite as unfortunate as you think, Miss. We had word from Director Scott. Did a little digging. There was no student at the Pacific Adventist University called Adreana Black. Nobody with that name who worked at the bookshop, either. When we tracked the owner down to ask him about this he was unable to talk.”

  “Too scared?”

  “Too dead. Someone had ripped his heart out and skewered it to the wall of his bedroom. Painted the words 'Your God did this' on the wall with his own blood. Must have happened sometime last night.”

  “And we're one day closer to a nuclear meltdown with not a lot to show for it, Samantha added. “Charlotte, I'm convinced what we saw in the jungle we were meant to see.” She opened her bag, passing the papers taken from the hidden compartment of her crow book as well as Adreana's GPS calculations. “Could you have someone take a look at those numbers?”

  “Did you find their meaning?”

  “Maybe. The first are lunar calculations from the late nineteenth century. Adreana, who swore blind they were GPS calculations taken from the first set of figures, gave the second to us. They led us to a long-lost tribe, the Honihin, who just happened to have been stoned for their entire existence and told to wait for an angel.”

  “What do you hope to find?”

  “Trust. If those figures match, we know Adreana was genuine. I'm having a hard time believing in coincidence lately. You know, she sat here in a car in Papua New Guinea with an angel and the world on the edge of war with very well-equipped terrorists. It's all a bit crazy.”

  “Is there anything else you need?”

  Samantha nodded. “I need my mom.” The panic and chaos of the last few days hit her all at once. She wanted to be reassured that her family was safe, that Nina was okay—as unscathed as any of them could be under the circumstances.

  The thirteen-hour flight back to Geneva gave Samantha time for some much-needed rest. One definite advantage of working for ARC was a well-fuelled plane and a lack of airport red tape. She let down her guard, once she was sure they wouldn't be riding random jet streams, and fell into a deep sleep. When hours later, she opened her eyes, the sky outside was still dark. She looked carefully from the cabin window to see a glimmer on the eastern horizon.

  Samantha stretched, pulling off a blanket someone had draped over her.

  “Morning, sunshine,” said a cheery-sounding Io.

  “Wha—how long was I out? Where are we?”

  “Somewhere over eastern Europe,” Charlotte answered. “Give it an hour or so and we'll be touching down at Geneva airport. Before we do, you want to tell me what you think you've learned from this?”

  The question, and the edge of incrimination in Charlotte's voice were immediately off putting. “Well, Samantha answered cautiously, “I can tell you when Io stands in the summoning circle, he calls down a vengeful angel hell-bent on his destruction. They treat him as some sort of rebel because he's here and not up there. And I can tell you it all sounds very absolute.”

  “Absolute?”

  Samantha turned to Io. “Tell me Io, is there any free will in Heaven?”

  “We obey,” he replied.

  “And having been down here, and having seen what free will is like, does it not appeal to you?”

  Io smiled. “It does. But it's not my place to exercise my judgement as I see fit among you. I cannot dispense justice. I am not God.”

  “Well aren't there routes back in to Heaven? Surely someone somewhere would be sympathetic to your cause. You aren't here by choice.”

  Io frowned at Samantha's comment. “There should be. There are back doors only the Powers, the Order of Angels know about. Karael was said to have used one the last time he was sent to dispatch a fallen angel. Beelzebub was on earth. Karael fought a mighty battle and was wounded. He would never say how he entered Heaven, only that his task was complete. Besides,” Io reached one hand over and pointed at his back. “You see a distinct lack of feathers.”

  “That's a host body, isn't it?”

  Io looked down at his body. “If it helps you to know this, the soul had departed before I took possession. I was granted permission as he departed.”

  “So you're no parasite then,” Charlotte judged.

  “He was a good man. His life cut short by tragic happenstance. It would not matter if I wanted you to see my true self and was able to reveal it. The fallen lose their wings. What your weapon caused, trapped me in a mortal shell, albeit with some of my skills. In truth, it was felt amongst the angelic host that preserving mortals was less important than seeing to our own borders. We watched the abhorrent underbelly of your domain try to erupt. While your efforts were valiant and ultimately successful, not a prayer has been spoken since that time. The words dried up. Where once Heaven was an audible delight, full of humanity's voice, now it lies still. We hear nothing.”

  “The prayers stopped? When?”

  Io thought for a moment. “This may be hard to understand, but your prayer doesn't reach heaven the instant you give thought or voice to the words. It flows with the souls into the Gates of Heaven. Hitches a ride, you might say, much like we are doing on this plane. The souls kept coming, but the voices stopped. I would say the last prayer was heard no later than the day you were brought into this world.”

  Samantha was silent for a moment while she decided what say next.

  “Do you hear them now?”

  Io's eyebrows raised. “I had never thought to listen until now.” He raised his head, tipping it back as he sought for a sound only he could hear. After a moment he looked at her, his eyes full of unshed tears. “The prayers are there. Not many, but I hear them.”

  “And were I to pray directly to you, by name, would you hear that?”

  “I would,” he replied.

  Without speaking, Samantha rose from her seat and walked to the rear of the cabin where she took a seat and leaned forward, hands clasped together. “Ioviel, this prayer is for you and you alone. When my mother went to Hell she was saved from death by an angel. His name was Metatron. I believe he was your prayer conduit. He died from inju
ries sustained in combat with a creature that had once been the demon Lord Belphegor. That happened a few months before my birth.”

  When she returned to her seat, Io sat ashen faced and silent. “It worked then.”

  His response was not immediate. “How could you know such things?” he whispered, his voice one of devastation.

  In some way she had broken his world.

  “I'm Satan's daughter, Io. I know many things, most of which we really need my mother to speak of. I don't know who outside of the Council knows much of my history, of those dark days. I'm sorry, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte nodded her approval. “Following protocol isn't to be discouraged. Your aunt will be at the Chateau, along with many of the ARC Council. They will be best placed to decide the way forward, including who needs to know what.” The pointed way she said this left Samantha in no uncertainty; revealing certain secrets would not be tolerated.

  She turned to Io, his face screwed up as he strained, for what she couldn't guess. He had grown hot, the heat coming off of him in waves. His hands were balled into fists which shook, banging on the seat arms.

  “Io, what's wrong?”

  He looked to her, his eyes popping open. “I feel them: the prayers.”

  Samantha jumped back, startled. “Your eyes, they're glowing.”

  Io smiled. “I can feel the prayers of the devout. They are few, but there are those who haven't yet forsaken Heaven. I have answered them. 'There is still hope,' I said. 'Trust in the Lord God Almighty for He will not lead you astray.' ”

  “Did they hear you?” Charlotte asked, her face sceptical. She sounded a woman who needed a lot of convincing. Odd, given the work she'd accomplished with Aunt Clare.

  Io's face radiated heat, and contentment. “They heard me. They will spread the word. I am the only angel listening for their words. Now I'm tapped in, and my memories have been fully restored.”

  “Great. What do we do now, Io?” Samantha ticked the items off on her fingers: “We have a terrorist uprising to quash, an angel after your neck to hobble, not to mention you have no wings, and the entire planet is ripping itself apart because the weather's gone nuts.”