by Ramy Vance
Oche pulled out his own sword in answer. “I am no longer one of your minions to command. I serve a higher purpose now. I serve him.”
“A human?”
“The Witness.”
Michael lifted an ominous hand, and in a voice that could have sent the Kraken back to the deep to think about what it did, said, “Enough. Let the Witness speak.”
Enoch nodded. “Thank you, archangel. I have witnessed the gods leaving centuries before they did, and I have scoured this universe and others in search of their reasoning. I have come to one undeniable conclusion: They left—He left—because we were not worthy of His love. Thus, we must prove our worth by sacrificing all to find Him again. That is my purpose, and has been since the day I learned of His plans.”
“Yeah, yeah … Except Mr. I-Shouldn’t-Have-Smoked-a-Pack-a-Day over here thinks he’s the only one worthy to do so, and plans on killing the rest of us first, then using our dead bodies as a ladder to get to where He went.”
Michael pursed his lips, like he was debating who he should kill, before saying, “Traversing universes requires the Power of Will.” The way he said that made me think he wasn’t pulling a phrase out of Aldie’s self-help seminars. The Power of Will was a thing … a thing that Michael understood.
Looking up at the angel, I was beginning to wonder if he was going to help. He looked as though he understood Enoch’s words, that on some level they resonated with him. From the way things were going, I was beginning to think those two might just flap their wings and fly away.
“No,” I growled. “Whatever reason the gods have for leaving doesn’t give you the right to kill us all so you get a ticket out of here. You’re in the muck of it with us.
“And you.” I pointed at Michael. “I can’t believe you are even entertaining this guy. Seriously? Gabriel told me that you were one of the good guys. Seems like he was the one laboring under a misapprehension. Gabriel literally died to get this. And what do you do? Deliberate? Contemplate? I don’t think I should give this to you anymore. I don’t think this thing should exist. For the life of everyone, I’m done with the bullshit.”
I slammed the jar onto the ground and brought down the stone with the fury of everything in my own soul.
CLASH OF THE ANGELS
T ime slowed. I guessed it was another one of Enoch’s tricks. I watched as my hand that should have smashed into the jar in a millisecond ebb its way down to the ground with frustrating slowness. My mind was operating at normal speed, though.
I heard Michael’s voice. “Do not do that.”
“I will do whatever it takes to protect this world from creeps like you,” I said. Evidently my mouth was operating at normal speed, too.
So, this wasn’t one of Enoch’s tricks. It was Michael. The archangel was burning time to stop me from destroying the damn thing. “What is it that you want?”
“I already told you, and I’m not in the habit of repeating myself. Well, actually I am, but not here and not now.” Michael clearly wanted me to not smash the thing, but given that he didn’t swoop down and stop me, I knew he couldn’t. His only hope was convincing me to stop.
I wasn’t going to stop. And seeing my hand inching its way toward the jar only served to frustrate me all the more. “He orchestrated all of this. The gods rising, the jar being freed from the museum and Yomi … all of it was his plan. But you know, I could have forgiven him all that. Enoch was doing everything that he thought he should do. I get that. So, I’m going to destroy this thing because of Harry.”
“Harry?”
“While going through all the shit I had to go through to get this, I met this yeti—Harry. He was a wonderful being. Pure, beautiful. Kind. Funny in that dorky kind of way. And now he’s gone because of this. I just keep thinking about him and how he didn’t need to die. So, if you want the truth, I’m destroying this because I don’t want any more Harrys to die.”
“Even so, that Jar could be the answer to so much,” Michael said.
“Like what? More jerks like him causing carnage and mayhem to get it? No, I’m done. This thing goes. Now.” I tried to will my hand to come down faster.
“And what of Gabriel’s sacrifice? He did everything he could to free it from its prison.”
That gave me pause. Gabriel had done so much, given up so much just to get this thing out. Why?
“OK, I’m listening. Why?”
“I do not know, but I can hazard one guess. Immortality has been denied us all, Others and humans alike. When an Other dies, we cease to be. But when a human dies, its soul is lost to the ether of nothing. With the Soul Jar existing here, in this realm of being, the souls of all who die from this point forward can be gathered in one place.”
“For what purpose?”
“I do not know,” Michael thundered, his frustration palpable. “Perhaps Gabriel holds out hope that a heaven may be reopened for the human souls to find life everlasting.”
“Or assholes like him could use it to destroy us. I mean, he clearly wants this for the Power of Will. What is that, anyway?”
Michael folded his arms. “Something not for mortal knowledge.”
“OK. Then bye bye, Jar.”
I could feel Michael’s deliberation before he let out an audible sigh that sounded like a jet engine powering down. “The heavens and hells were controlled by the Power of Will. Human souls were what allowed those domains to exist.”
I thought about my own time in Yomi and how I could bend things to my will. In there I was uber powerful, able to manipulate reality as I pleased. “The Power of Will. It is our human souls that allow it all to be, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You know, that makes your arrogance about how we humans are sub-beings kind of cheeky, given what our souls can do.”
“Indeed.”
“I’m still not convinced anyone should have access to such abilities,” I said, my hand continuing its course.
“I must admit that I agree. Still, my brother would not have sacrificed his life if he did not believe we needed such things. I swear to you that I will protect the Soul Jar.”
“And how do I know you won’t use it for your shit?”
Michael thought about that for what felt like an eternity, especially given that my hand was only a couple inches above the jar, before saying, “Dear mortal, my oath to you is this: I will not use the power held within without your permission. From this moment forward, you shall be the only key that will unlock its abilities.”
I knew Others didn’t make oaths lightly. In fact, they only ever agreed to oaths if they felt certain they could fulfill them—or would die trying. And this was the archangel Michael making the oath, which gave it even more gravity. “In other words, I have to give you permission?”
“Yes.”
“And you won’t pull some Other shit by saying that you want to use it for one purpose while hiding another purpose in the fine print?”
“I will speak plainly to you. Always.”
“And should I die?”
“The Soul Jar will be locked away forever.”
“And should you die?”
He scoffed at this.
“Hey,” I said, “we’re all mortal now.”
“Indeed. There are … other angels who will uphold my oath in my absence.”
“Like Miral there.”
“She is chief amongst them, but she is not the only one.”
I looked up at Michael. I was still wearing the Eye of Borvo, which meant that I could see his true desire. And in that moment, I saw an angel who desired two things: to honor his dead brother and to keep his oath to me.
He was going to do exactly what he promised, which meant I got the final say on the whole thing. Not sure I liked the responsibility, but I thought about all the danger and death that came of getting this out. If Gabriel saw a purpose in smuggling this thing out, that purpose had yet to reveal itself.
But whatever he saw coming was important. It must have been.
I thought about Harry and the others who had died for this thing. Their sacrifice needed to mean something. It had to.
“OK,” I said. “I accept.”
Time regained its normalcy as the stone hit the ground next to the Soul Jar with an unsatisfying thud.
↔
AS SOON AS time was back to normal, three things happened. The first was Oche taking to the sky, wings and arms outstretched as he grabbed both Michael and Miral, pushing them up and into the clouds. He was buying Enoch time.
Time that the raspy man used to pull out a clock that only the GoneGods knew what it did—teleport, make him invisible, keep him warm and toasty? Rocks came flying over my head as Egya and Deirdre threw them at Enoch to stop him from getting to me. Seems Egya’s pile of rocks was a good idea after all.
Two stones hit him in the forehead, knocking him down. I snatched up the Soul Jar and ran back to my friends. If he wanted this, he’d have to take on the three of us.
But Enoch didn’t. Instead, he turned over and started coughing red blood onto the dry, sandy ground beneath him. “No, no, no.” He slammed his fist on the ground. “I do not deserve this. I do not deserve to die like this!”
“Cancer,” I muttered.
The word cut through his rage like a knife. Looking at me through bloodshot eyes, he cried out, “I served them with all my being. I gave them everything! And they left me here to die, not from old age or natural causes, but from that cursed disease growing within me now.”
He was crying, but did not move. He was too weak to do that. He had given everything to get to this point, and it wasn’t enough. He knew that. We all did.
Michael dropped down to the ground and landed by Enoch’s side, cradling the former archangel in his arms. Looking up, I saw Oche and Miral fighting, and from the way they tussled, it wasn’t clear which one would win.
Still, Michael had disengaged to be by Enoch’s side.
“Why, Michael?” Enoch rasped. “Why was He so cruel?”
“He was not,” Michael said with a gentleness I did not think his overbearing stature would allow. Looking at me, he said, “Bearer of the Soul Jar, will you allow me to return this man’s soul so that he may be whole?”
So, here was my first decision to make. Let Enoch have his soul back. With all the horror he had caused, I wasn’t sure he deserved it. Then I felt a gentle hand on shoulder. “Everyone deserves to be whole,” Egya said.
I turned and looked him in the eyes. He was back to his human self now. Next to him stood Deirdre, cradling her arm. She nodded in agreement.
If the two of them could forgive Enoch enough to return his soul, then so could I.
Walking over, I handed Michael the jar. “Don’t make me regret this.”
The archangel nodded before putting two delicate fingers over the jar’s opening. The mouth opened just wide enough for his massive fingers—like it was always that large an opening.
Michael’s fingers rested inside for a moment before he pulled out Enoch’s soul like he was teasing out a delicate thread from an intricate quilt. Unlike other souls, which have a silvery, off-white effervescent glow to them, Enoch’s was pure white. “God asked me to find a human worthy to serve him,” Michael said as he held Enoch’s soul. The white energy bustled like it was trying to escape. “And I searched for that human. I did not only search the present, but went to Father Time, asking the old man to help me search all times.
“In all time, amongst all the humans born and to be born, I only found one soul truly good enough to serve. One.” The white energy grew more frantic, unstable. Looking closer at Michael’s hand, I saw flakes of angelic skin burn off as several pustules swelled, threating to burst. The soul was scorching his hand, not that the archangel gave any sign he was in pain. “One—yours!”
Michael’s voice boomed that last word like the Punisher does when he’s about to do something particularly nasty and vengeful.
“So, God sought to test my choice. It was not an accident that Oche fell upon your home. It was no coincidence that the Nephilim happened upon you when tending to the dead. It was one last test, all to see if this”—he held Enoch’s soul up—“was worthy of Him.”
Without another word, Michael brought down the soul on Enoch. He was reuniting the man with what he had lost and, because I’m human and use my mouth to eat, I figured that was the orifice he’d use to get the soul into him.
But Michael didn’t place the soul in Enoch’s mouth. He poured it through the man’s eyes. With screaming rage, Enoch’s soul seeped back into the human. “You think the gods left you behind as a punishment,” Michael boomed. “After eons of divinity, you are still a limited mortal, confused by their ways. The gods did not leave you behind because they were displeased with you. They left you behind as a reward. A final release from servitude. A second chance to live your life as was intended. Mortal, human and complete.”
The man stopped struggling. Once the light was fully absorbed, he sat on his knees, his head down as human tears dripped on the hot concrete before him.
“Your soul was their parting gift, Enoch. And my only hope for you is that now that you are complete, you will finally understand.”
Enoch, now whole, burst into tears and wails of unbearable pain.
Oche dropped from the sky to be by his master’s side. “What did you do?”
“What I had to,” Michael answered.
“No. No, he does not deserve this anguish. He is the best of us all.” And with tear-laden eyes, he looked at me. “You … you did this.”
With speed beyond anything I had known possible, Oche picked up the stone that I had intended to use to destroy the jar and threw it at me.
Right at my head.
GOODBYE MY LOVERS
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. There was an angel standing over me. As in a literal angel.
“Am I dead?” I asked.
“Stop being so dramatic, girl,” a familiar voice said. “You’re just waking up from a coma.”
“A long one,” the angel said and as soon as I heard her voice I realized who I was looking at. Miral … the angel from the battle. Of course, now she looked different, having traded her sword for a stetascope.
“What … what happeend?”
“Oche hit you in the head with a rock,” Egya said, taking my hand in his. “Good shot. Something that would have killed you if it wasn’t for Miral here, you’d be dead.”
“Did you..?” I touched my head. There were bandaids wrapped around my skull and it was tender to the touch.
Miral nodded. “Not much. Just enough to keep you alive. The rest was up to your natural healing abilities. You’re not out of the woods yet,” she was testing my blood pressure as she spoke. “You’ll need bed rest for a few days, but you’ll be on your feet in no time.”
“How long was I out?” I asked.
No one answered, which was troubling enough. But when even Egya didn’t have a witty quip, that’s when I really started to worry.
“How long?” I repeated.
“Four weeks,” Miral finally said.
“Four weeks? That means that—”
“Valentine’s is just around the corner,” Egya chuckled.
I smiled at the Ghanian. ‘Thank the GoneGods … he was still annoying.’
↔
I SPENT the next three days in bed, catching up on everything that happened. I had been knocked out. Oche and Enoch, seeing that they had lost, surrendered the Soul Jar over to Michael.
And I had been playing Sleeping Beauty for the last few weeks with Egya, Aldie and Deirdre refusing to leave my side.
Friends to the end.
On my last day in the hospital, I got a visitor … someone I had been expecting for some time now.
Michael hunched over as he entered my hospital room and stared at me with overbearing silence.
“I suppose you want to know my story?”
He shook his head. “The annoying hyena man told
me all.”
“So why are you here?” I asked.
“To thank you.”
“For what?”
“For honoring my brother’s wishes,” he said with a deadly seriousness.
“Yeah, Gabriel was a good guy.”
“And a fool,” Michael said, nodding.
“I don’t know about that. If he was a fool, then aren’t we all? After all, you really do believe that the gods abandoning the Others on Earth was a gift?”
Michael sighed, looked around the room for a place to sit and not seeing one, resigned himself to standing before he finally said, “I have to. I have seen the face of good. Served Him with every fiber of my being. I have to believe that this,” gestures around him, “is either my reward or one more way to serve. Perhaps both.”
“You’re pretty naïve for you age.”
Michael looks down at me and at first I thought I had pissed him off. Again. Then he bellowed out in laughter, sending thumbing reverberating base through me, “Perhaps. But the naïve part of me is also the happy part of me.”
“Always look at the bright side of your life,” I hummed.
“Excuse me?”
“Not a Monty Python fan? Nevermind then … what’s the not so happy part?” but if Michael had an answer he didn’t share it. Instead, he said, “Enoch is dying. Cancer. I now understand why he is so bitter.”
“We’re all dying, Michael,” I said. “Some of us faster than others … but we’re all dust in the end.”
“As it was intended to be.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “If that floats your boat, then, yeah … as it was intended to be.”
↔
WE WENT to the airport later that day. Aldie was already there, with a ticket to Melbourne in his hand. “My next seminar,” he said, shyly.
I gave my ex a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”
“All part of my purpose,” he said, before snapping his fingers twice and adding, “You really should attend one of our weekend getaway seminars. The next one is on how to embrace your mythical past and use it to help mold your epic future. We have a ton of inspirational speakers: Johnny Appleseed, Paul Bunyon, the Jolly Green Giant. And, oh! the minotaur that guarded Mino’s Labyrinth will give the keynote on how he turned his legendary riddles into the world’s leading Escape Room experience. He made a mint riding that wave. So, you in?”