“I guess that means you don’t want me dead.”
Qaira’s eyes met mine again, stony. “It was good to see you.”
Without another word, he left.
I stepped into the hall, but he was already gone. Abandoned to heartache, I retreated into my room and shut the door. It felt like Sanctum’s fall all over again—the numb, empty crater in my chest, the gnawing in my stomach. Back then I’d thought the sorrow would never end. And here it was again, unbearable as ever.
I should have killed him.
XV
OBJECTIVE COMPLETE
Lucifer Raith—;
“AVERNAI HAS FALLEN,” announced Samnaea, near whisper. “The angels have taken the first layer. Malphas Tremm has not contacted us since the attack, therefore we can assume he is subjugated, or—” A tremor broke her voice for good. She did not speak again.
Our conference table was dead silent. The only person unmarred by the news was me.
Public broadcast had somehow managed to sneak several recordings of the attack past the border. Intelligence leaked a few others. The angel command ship was certainly something to behold as it oozed jets that tore through Avernai in a storm of fire and ash. Alarms blared. Screams ensued, followed by gunfire that silenced them forever.
They had taken the bait.
“I want Lochai and Lohr’s militia moved to protect Lochai’s border. Fifty thousand ground soldiers and ten thousand jets.” I glanced toward Lilith and Naberius, whom happened to be sitting side by side. “Are your carriers ready?”
They nodded, solemn.
“We’ll head the angels off before they advance. Keep the fight away from any cities. Don’t let them near Lochai’s Parliament. Each of you will be assigned a Primer. Let them do the heavy lifting.”
Primers were seasoned admirals of the Obsidian Court. The cream of the crop, trained from adolescence to lead a war should the occasion ever arise. Until now they had overseen militia throughout the layers, serving as judiciary council and law enforcement on a smaller scale than that of the Jury. Any in-house crimes were dealt with by them and their ilk.
Our political and societal bearings had long since deviated from the Archaean Theosyne structure. If Yahweh thought Avernai was a reflection of our ability to defend Hell (which I was almost sure he didn’t), then our next match would come as a surprise.
Naberius and Lilith were excused from the room, led by their accompanying guards to return to their layers and prepare for war. Real war.
Avernai was only a test, yet no one had known that but me.
Our first layer was the weakest link, holding the weakest people. I’d seen that firsthand on my way to murder Vetis Cull.
Malphas Tremm was equally weak, a reflection of his layer, unfit for rule and a coward that, to my knowledge, had hidden in parliament while his soldiers were slaughtered. A unified Hell needed to be a strong Hell—smooth the wrinkles, separate grain from chaff. But in the end, Avernai and Malphas had served a purpose.
Morale. Fear.
I made sure our public broadcast aired the angel attack on every station across Hell, leaving an imprint on the people that would shake them to their core: the angels were coming, and only we could stop them.
Displayed was a consequence of too few soldiers to man the fort. That lead worked, as thousands of recruits flocked to Junah and Akkaroz to enlist in the few hours since Avernai’s occupation was announced. Demons feared re-slavery. They’d been dying for centuries to prevent it. It was all a lie to preserve order, a lie perpetuated by both the Argent and Obsidian Courts, but the lie must hold until its barbed wire effect was no longer needed.
I excused Mastema and Azazel a short while later, ordering them to gather more arms should Lochai need any reinforcements. Samnaea and I were left alone.
“Dr. Jonarr called while you were speaking to WDR,” she said. “He said the carnifex prototype is ready for review.”
I nodded, miles away.
Yahweh’s willingness to come along on the Ezekiel might have been honorable, except that he was guarded by Vel’Haru. He was cheating. Guarded by the Jury was invincibility, therefore I would have to take out his military until he was forced to surrender. The odds were in my favor, but there was always a small chance things wouldn’t turn out as I’d hoped.
I had a few tricks up my sleeve yet.
The carnifex was insurance.
Insurance, but a last resort.
“I’ll head there tonight,” I said, reaching for my briefcase. “I need a projections report for Judas when you have the time. It has to be armed and ready by tomorrow.”
“It’ll be done before that,” she promised, smiling. “All that’s left is the central AI and ion shield.”
“Good. Junah Primers will assemble the men?”
“They will.”
Together we walked out of the conference room and down the steps of Akkaroz’s Parliament lobby. My general would spend her afternoon making military preparations, while I would spend mine talking to the press. Samnaea suggested we grab lunch before parting ways, and I obliged, knowing good and well that this may be the last time either of us had any freedom.
XVI
A NECESSARY EVIL
Qaira Eltruan—;
I WANDERED THE EZEKIEL, INDECISIVE of my next move. I was in a good position to take my leave, travel somewhere else far, far away and never look back.
But returning to The Atrium had done something. It was hard to explain, but nowhere else had felt like here—home—even though my world as I’d known it had ended long ago.
The Atrium was no longer my home, no longer my world, yet still nostalgia cemented my feet to its ground and the thought of leaving made me anxious.
Seeing Leid was a mistake.
All of my anger had deflated the moment our eyes met. Our history stained her as much as it did me. Talking about it was useless, and all I could think about during our brief, mostly one-sided conversation was Ara’s lifeless body on Eroqam’s research science floor; the empty, faraway gaze in his eyes and the blood that pooled around him.
Leid had pulled the trigger, but she hadn’t killed my brother. That was on me.
I’d left her quarters sick with guilt and pity. It was a disgusting, shameful feeling that had me wishing back that white hot rage. But the rage had boiled over, leaving my conscience to stew in what was left: regret, disgrace.
The Ezekiel was massive. I wandered its winding glass halls for what seemed like hours and the scenery barely changed. At one point the angels’ uniforms switched from armor to white coats as I’d passed an infirmary, and then a laboratory, but the floors were always cream tile, the walls translucent, the lights fluorescent. Doors with the sigil of Argentia and Theosyne lined the halls, and I eventually found an elevator that took me back on deck.
The air was colder now, the sky painted muddy brown as dusk turned to twilight. Shadows loomed across the deck, blending with silhouettes of soldiers dancing across lamplight. The command ship had ascended since its siege on Avernai. I couldn’t see the city anymore, only clouds.
I leaned over the rail, closing my eyes against the glare of Ezekiel’s halo. It immersed me in golden light, and I looked at my hands, moved by the shimmer of my skin.
I wondered what would happen if I stepped off the deck. At such a height, a lesser body would explode upon impact with the ground. Would that happen to me? Could I survive that?
The fear of surviving such a fall—and the agony to follow—made me forego that idea. My hands were no longer just hands; they were weapons. I could bend steel, crush stone, probably even lift a jet. Dying was a feat.
For years I had revered my wife and her abilities, and here I was the same. She had turned me into a god. Leid had done it to protect me, to keep me close in case anyone found out that I had broken free of the Nexus. That moment felt like yesterday, on Caia’s cliffs, in the rain—the way she’d looked at me, so broken and distraught. She’d told me I’d regret this, and
, as always, she was right.
For a hundred years I—Alezair—pried at the mystery surrounding Leid. I’d wanted to know what terrible thing had happened to make her so somber and lifeless.
And it’d been me all along.
I was that terrible thing.
“You’re still here,” said a familiar voice, shattering my thoughts.
Adrial appeared on my right, and I paid him a sidelong glance.
“Decided to stay, then?”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
He rolled his eyes, concluding I was full of shit. I pretended not to notice. Instead of replying, Adrial leaned on the rail, mimicking my stance, and pulled a package of malay cigarettes from the breast pocket of his coat.
The demons had capitalized on malay. They also loved to drink. Their culture was enamored with mind-altering substances. They had inherited more from me than they knew.
I shook my head when Adrial offered one. He shrugged and slipped the pack back in his pocket, glancing at the angel soldiers repairing jets on the other side of the bow. They kept looking at us. “You should really change your clothes,” he said. “Your armor is confusing everyone.”
“And the Jury insignia wouldn’t?”
Demons and angels were not allowed to serve as members of the Jury. The reason was obvious.
“People are going to find out who you are regardless. There’ll be no stopping that. I can’t even fathom the shit storm it’ll cause. The Nehelian Regent, back from the dead.” He smiled, amused, malay in full-effect. “Fighting for the angels, no less. Best scare tactic ever.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t agreed to stay.”
“Oh, stop. You have so.”
I didn’t respond, and more quietly he asked, “Have you seen her?”
I didn’t respond again, but my expression said it all. A look of pity flashed across his eyes, and then they rose to watch the halo sweep over the deck, dusting us in gold. “Did Calenus tell you what happened to us?”
I nodded.
“So you know about the Scarlet Queen.”
Again, I nodded.
“Before we left Exo’daius, the Scarlet Queen claimed many lives, one belonging to a woman I loved.” Startled, I looked at him. His smile was gone, gaze distant over the black clouds. “I wanted to hate Leid, and for a while I did, but none of that was really her.
“She invoked the Scarlet Queen to save us from Aipocinus’ tyranny. He was dead before my assimilation, but he’d sounded like a beast. She couldn’t know the consequences, none of us did. Not until it was too late.”
Calenus had known. For whatever reason, he had tried to cover it up. Leid had unknowingly carried the soul of a wrathful queen inside of her, and as it slowly ate away her insides, he’d sat there and watched, telling no one.
Anger sparked in me again. Adrial had made his point—Leid was not responsible for Sanctum’s collapse. If any of the Vel’Haru were, it was Calenus Karim. But mostly me.
“You stayed with her.”
Adrial nodded. “She’s my noble, and guilt scars her still. I’ve forgiven her, The Atrium has forgiven her, but she hasn’t forgiven herself. Part of the reason why she avoids Exo’daius is out of shame.”
Zhevraine appeared from out of nowhere. Neither of us had seen her approach. She moved like a black cat through shadows.
“We’ve already caught our first snag,” she said to Adrial, paying me only a moment’s glance. She was out of combat uniform, now wearing civilian clothes beneath her Jury coat. A blue plaid scarf was twined around her neck, covering the lower half of her face, black hair loose and flowing in the night wind. “Some of our militia is calling for Malphas’ execution.”
“And Yahweh?” asked Adrial.
She shook her head. “He wants to keep him in the gallows for future questioning. We need to stand in for the briefing. Remind the crowd to maintain order.”
“The briefing is now?”
“We’re set to depart for Lochai in five hours, well before dawn.”
Adrial cursed, throwing his cigarette over the rail. “So much for sleep. Where’s Leid?”
“We don’t know. She won’t come to the briefing.” Zhevraine shot me another look. “Probably because he’s here.”
Subtlety wasn’t in her skillset.
“I’ll find her,” he muttered, heading for the residential quarters. “Tell the Commander we’ll be there in a few.”
We watched him stalk off. When Adrial was gone, Zhevraine headed for central headquarters. She paused halfway across the deck, looking back. “Are you coming?”
I looked at her, questioningly.
“You are a member of the Jury, are you not?”
I hesitated, and she continued on. Her question almost made me smile.
It was like nothing had even happened. Neither she nor Adrial cared about who I really was, and accepted me back for the sole reason that I was violet. I was them. Vel’Haru were a loyal lot.
“Wait,” I called. She held the door open as I jogged to catch up. “I need a change of clothes.”
***
Ezekiel’s conference room was a massive globe, resting atop a cylindrical, two way elevator passage south of central headquarters. Panels framed the room in ascending rings, and here angel officers surrounded a holo-map of the Lochai-Avernai borderlands displayed above a projection podium. Yahweh stood next to it, a microphone clipped to his ear so that everyone could hear him. I’d entered half an hour late, hanging back near the door.
Adrial had found Leid, and they stood sentry behind Yahweh. Zhevraine was seated with Seyestin and Cereli, front row. To my surprise, Belial Vakkar was seated next to Zhev. I wasn’t aware that the angels had a demon in tow. Interesting.
Several heads turned at my entrance. I was wearing Adrial’s spare Jury uniform so there was no question as to who I was, but my demon appearance confused the crowd.
Yahweh and Leid glanced toward the door.
He smiled. She looked away.
I listened to the briefing half-attentively, all the while staring at my wife. Her posture was rigid and she hugged her arms in a self-conscious stance. Her gaze was stoic, peering ahead at nothing. It strayed from time to time, almost meeting mine, but never quite. She was trying really hard not to look at me.
Yahweh’s plan was to depart from Avernai two hours from dawn, reaching the Lochai borders before morning. The Argent Forces couldn’t afford to give the Obsidian Army any more time to group, and an attack was less likely if they traveled at night.
Geography complicated things. The descent into Lochai was a narrow gorge riddled with floating debris. The Ezekiel couldn’t skirt that shelf.
“Your bird is too big to fly through there,” interrupted Belial. “You’ll smash her to pieces. There’s another entrance; a back door with wider berth near the Trenhaza ridge.”
“That’s three hours more travel time,” said Seyestin, “and the likeliest place the demons will think to ambush us.”
“True, on both accounts, but fact is fact. Your ship is too big. No one flies through the Verdh Shelf. Too much turbulence. If one of your jets can pass through it without getting knocked out of the sky by supersonic debris, then I’ll eat my bloody cane.”
Seyestin looked to his Commander. “I can do it.”
“I’ve no doubt you can, General Trede,” said Yahweh. “But not many of our pilots are as skilled, and we can’t afford to lose any.” He paused, looking at the map. Leid thumbed a button on the holograph and it zoomed in on the passage through the Verdh Shelf. They shared a look then, as if speaking telepathically. “After this briefing, I want every officer to recommend their best pilot. Send them to the hangar. We are going to attempt a pincer attack.
“A small team of jets, led by First General Trede, will navigate through the Verdh Shelf and attack whatever army awaits us from behind. It will lead them astray and give the rest of us enough time to emerge from the Trenhaza Ridge.”
“Ho
w many?” asked an officer.
“One hundred and fifty.”
One hundred and fifty against thousands. Cannon fodder.
“It will be dark, and they will not suspect us,” said Yahweh, deflecting the doubt across the room. “We are not trying to attack them head on, we are trying to lead them away from the ridge.”
“This is all hypothetical,” said Belial, appearing bored, “but what if Lucifer has his army stationed at both passages?”
“Then we certainly have a tough battle ahead of us.”
“If you give me a little while, I can get a better scoop on what’s what,” said Belial.
“That your informant has not provided us any information is evidence they are not organized yet. Time is to our advantage, Archdemon.”
Belial shrugged, saying nothing.
“Assemble your teams. We leave in half an hour.”
The room cleared out. The conquering of Avernai had left the angel ranks drunk with victory, but this briefing had sobered them quick. The battle of Lochai had much higher stakes, and it was certain a few (if not many) of them were going to die.
As I headed down to unite with the other Jury members huddled around Yahweh, Seyestin and Cereli passed me on their way to the door. Seyestin and I shared a look. Neither of us smiled, but I was surprised at how calm he was. Minutes ago he’d been ordered to lead what could only be described as a suicide mission.
Yahweh saw my approach and cut me off at the stairs, gesturing to follow so we could talk privately. He led me to central headquarters, into Navigations. Sealing the door behind us, he sat at the panel underneath the radar-holo and set pieces across his chessboard. It looked like he’d been playing earlier.
I lingered at the controls until he motioned for me to take a seat opposite him.
“No thanks,” I said, frowning. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for war?”
Yahweh smiled. “We have a while, and I reckon this won’t take long at all.”
Despite everything else, he was still an over-confident little shit. It was a welcomed constant.
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 73