The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs
Page 63
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The sadness had lifted. Armaros believed what Basia and Father Lucas had related to him. He still felt a degree of guilt over young Thane's death, but they had convinced him that it was imminent, necessary even. That's what Raphael had told them-among other things.
Armaros had been picking their brains and admiring the wealth of information they had gathered ever since he had arrived with them at their residence. The house itself was nice enough, and sat well off the beaten path. It was made of plank wood and large quarried stones. Oversized windows let in much natural light. Armaros felt comfortable here. He needed the rest. They all did.
Father Lucas had fully recovered. Armaros' healing coupled with being back at his own home had done wonders for the priest. His wit was sharp as ever. Basia fell back into her usual routine of sword practice and research. She was consumed with the pre-history of mankind. Armaros knew it was only a matter of time before she began to ask him questions. Especially now that they had filled him in on so much information that he hadn't been privy to.
They had been here for three days. During that time Basia and Mundy had told him about his remaining brothers. He was surprised to learn that besides himself and Azazel, six other decarchs remained. They had even narrowed down possible locations for each of those left alive. They were almost assuredly impossible to reach, but the two had maps to their locations just the same. Armaros was impressed. He admitted to himself that Basia and Mundy were helpful. He was glad they were on his side of the prophecy. He wasn't as sure about Jibril Gamal.
The Major had arrived this very morn. He entered the room with urgency and purpose, and had yet to relax. He acknowledged Armaros with a curt nod and nothing more. The big angel decided to reserve judgment on their newest companion.
He was relieved to see Kokabiel's name among the living. He and Semjaza were the only two of the six that Armaros figured he would not have to destroy. Kokabiel because he had always remained neutral, and Semjaza because he eventually became so repentant for his sins that he had exiled himself from the entire universe more than eight thousand years earlier. But the other four Armaros knew would join with Azazel if given the chance. And that chance was coming. Either they would disassemble themselves and escape like his brother, or his brother would free them in exchange for their loyalty. Armaros could not let that happen.
"Which decarch is the closest to us?" he asked them both. "I need to find them before Azazel does." It was the afternoon of the third day, and the Watcher felt the first hint of restlessness stirring in his body. They all sat near one another on a leather sectional.
"What will you do if we manage to find another decarch?" Father Lucas asked.
"Destroy him if I have to."
"How?"
"The short answer Mundy . . . I butcher him and then throw all the pieces of his body on to the surface of your Sun." Father Lucas went quiet. Even the usually loquacious priest was at a loss for words. He needed a moment to process what he had just been told.
Basia was sipping a cup of tea which she removed from her mouth to answer. "We suspect that Tamiel is buried somewhere along the western coast of South America. Below the Andes to be more specific."
"Then perhaps we should plan a trip to Chile," the Watcher said. "I've spent some time there you know."
"That I do know," Basia said. "But there is much I don't. I was hoping you might fill in some of the pieces for Mundy and me."
"And then we can leave?" Armaros asked.
"I already have my parka packed," Father Lucas joked.
The angel smiled and readied himself for another round of storytelling.
CHAPTER 37
The big man stepped out of the pool. The grass was cool beneath his feet. He turned first his head and then his body in order that he might see in every direction. It all looked the same. Something about the place was familiar to him.
He began to notice things. He felt good. His skin was dry. The sky was blue. His body seemed different. He didn't know what his name was. But nothing bothered him. Not here.
He noticed a tiny speck on the horizon. He watched it as it grew and moved closer. Soon, an angel stood before him. It was magnificent, and he could not look away. He knew this angel. He didn't know how, but he knew him.
"Hello Thane," the angel said. His voice was kind. His presence warmed the big man. "I've been expecting you."
His name was Thane. That sounded right to the big man. "Hello Mikhael," Thane answered. That sounded right to him also. And then he remembered. Everything.
Mikhael watched as Thane recalled who he was and what had happened. "It's difficult for you . . . to go from a corporeal body on Earth to a perfect and larger body here in Heaven. It has only been done twice before if I remember correctly, and I always do." He gave Thane a moment. The youngest angel didn't take it.
"This is the First Estate," Thane stated. His eyes were alight with purpose. Mikhael smiled.
"It is," the archangel said. "Now come along. Your training is to begin without delay."
THE END