“Are you going to let him talk to you like that?”
Imorean turned away from Michael, breaking eye contact. “Yes, I’m going. I’m an Archangel, just the same as you and anyone else in this room.”
“Tch,” scoffed Sariel, his eyes cold. “I don’t know what to call you, but you’re no Archangel. What will you even be doing when you all go down south, huh? Cowering in the back?”
Imorean launched to his feet and his wings snapped open. The room was deadly silent. “I’ll do anything they need me to do!”
“Ha!” snorted Sariel, rising to his feet as well. Even his movement was serpentine. “Then this mission is as good as lost. What are you, eighteen, nineteen at a stretch? Have you ever even seen a demon before? Life is very different to a lecture or diagram. Go back to your textbooks and classrooms. That’s where a schoolboy belongs.”
“I have fought demons before, Sariel,” snapped Imorean, his blood boiling. “My entire family and two of my best friends were killed by Vortigern. One of my friends was kidnapped by him. I’ve fought Vortigern myself.”
Sariel curled his upper lip and hissed. “Whatever has happened to you and whatever you have done changes nothing. It’s no worse than anything any of us have been through. You are not one of us and you never will be. You’re just a pathetic, miserable, sniveling, mortal human. That’s all you’ll ever be.”
Imorean opened his mouth to snap a reply, but instead bared his teeth at Sariel. Dimly, he heard Gabriel say his name. He took no notice. Blood pounded through his veins. Sound fell dull in his ears. Something shattered in the back of his mind. The room burst into sparks. Everything went dark. His world ringed white. As though in a dream, Imorean felt himself moving. Moving fast. Wings poised to fly, he lunged.
Chapter 4
“Imorean! Enough!” shouted Michael’s voice.
The weight of the thought forced Imorean to pause. Seconds later, he stumbled backward and found someone holding onto his shoulders. His knees trembled beneath him. He shook as his mind cleared and his senses returned to normal. He panted and took a few heaving breaths before looking up and taking in the room.
Raphael and Raguel were standing in the doorway with Sariel, who strained against them, snarling. Gabriel stood in the middle of the room, hands up as though making a barrier between Imorean and Sariel. Uriel and Remiel sat at the table in shock. Behind him, Imorean could hear Michael speaking sharply. Imorean’s head dropped down between his shoulders as he was overtaken by exhaustion.
“Did I not tell you that Imorean was more Archangel than human? Did I not tell you he had infusions of my own genetics and Inmerael’s? Did I not tell you to refrain from provoking him? Did you listen to a single word I said, Sariel?”
The room fell silent again and Imorean lifted his head. His jaw dropped when he saw the room. Every single window was shattered, the glass blown outward. The bulbs in the ceiling lights had burst and the room was doused in darkness. A few of the ceiling tiles were singed with burns.
“Sariel, you and I will speak later,” said Michael. “Raphael, settle Sariel somewhere, then return here. You still need to be briefed.”
“Yes, Michael,” said Raphael, pulling Sariel out of the room and shutting the door.
Imorean choked back nausea as his world shifted. It registered a moment later that Michael was moving him, helping him back to his seat. Relief swept over him as he sat down. A chill ran down his spine. He felt feverish and exhausted.
“Are you all right Imorean?”
He nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth to answer Michael’s question. The threat of vomiting was still too close.
“An uncontrolled release of Archangel energy in anger often has … nasty side effects.” There was a shuffle as Michael faced the rest of the room. “Imorean has only been able to harness his Archangel power during training or in a battlefield situation. This is simply part of the learning curve.”
“I remember the first time I did it,” said Raguel.
“No, you don’t,” replied Remiel.
Imorean swallowed, the feeling of nausea finally starting to ebb away.
“I hope that we can now resume our mission brief,” said Michael.
“Don’t hold on my account,” sighed Imorean, resting his hands against the table’s cool surface.
“Like I said earlier,” said Michael, sitting down and smiling in what Imorean thought was an oddly satisfied way. “Powerful and complete with untapped potential, which is one of the reasons why Vortigern has been pursuing him so desperately.”
“He was a good choice, Michael,” said Raguel.
Imorean looked over at Raguel and Remiel. Something about Raguel’s statement disconcerted him. As though he was a puppet to be bought and traded on a whim. Imorean’s brown eyes flicked to Michael. Surely, that wasn’t how he felt?
“Raguel, Remiel. This will be one of the largest assignments I have given you, so listen closely,” said Michael. “When we mobilize, you will be given new assignments. Until then, remain here to watch the school. Raguel, be aware that I may be pulling you away for field work during the summer.”
“This is a pretty big thing to be tasking us with, Michael. Are you sure about this?” asked Raguel, more somber than he had been earlier.
“I am certain. I do not really have another choice, but I have total confidence in the two of you. Eventually, I will go to Antarctica with the other four Archangels to look at the gate at Mount Erebus.”
Remiel and Raguel nodded together.
“You two are dismissed.”
“Thank you, Michael,” nodded Remiel, standing and moving toward the door.
“Hey, Imorean,” said Raguel. He looked up. That infectious smile was back on Raguel’s face. “Prove Sariel wrong, would you? I love seeing him eat his words.”
“I intend to,” replied Imorean, smiling.
Raguel nodded at him, then followed Remiel out the door.
As soon as the door slammed shut, Gabriel leaned his elbows on the table and sighed heavily. “Well, that could have gone better. Don’t you think so, Uriel?”
Uriel looked over, dark eyes still dull. “Hmm?”
“Oh, never mind. Michael, why did we bring him?”
“Because Uriel needs to at least hear this brief. As for the meeting, Sariel is very proud and far too headstrong,” said Michael, resting one arm on the table.
“Why does he hate me?” asked Imorean, looking at Michael. He felt groggy. “Him and Vortigern are two people I have never started any conflict with and they both hate me.”
“Sariel is, I suppose the word is, envious. All his existence he has wanted to look to me as a teacher. He believes he should be the one to join the Upper Archangels, but I digress. It is not in his nature to fight. His true disposition is wrong. Underneath, he is more like Raphael than any of us. He was created with the intention of assisting Raphael in healing. He is not made for the work of an Upper Archangel.”
“He can switch places with me if he wants,” said Imorean, his energy starting to return.
“You do not wish to be on this mission?”
“It’s not that. Sorry. What I said came out wrong,” replied Imorean.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” said Gabriel.
“Wouldn’t you be?” asked Imorean. “I’m not scared to die … I’m just … I don’t know. Going to the source. Closing a gate to hell. It’s a lot to take in.”
Gabriel did not reply, inclining his head thoughtfully.
“Shall we get on with this?” asked Michael, sweeping a hand across the room. Imorean jumped as glass flew back to the windows and settled back as though it had never been broken. The lights above flickered and turned back on. At the far end of the room, a projector screen rolled down from the roof and displayed five pictures.
“The five items?” asked Imorean.
“Correct,” nodded Michael. “To match the number of the Upper Archangels.”
“I haven’t missed any
thing, have I?” asked Raphael, pushing the door back open.
“Nothing at all,” replied Michael. “You are just in time. Sit down.”
Imorean wanted to ask if Sariel had done anything else, but he thought better of it and turned his attention back to the projector screen.
“One of the items we need is the headdress from the Aztec god Huitzilopochtli.”
“Wait,” said Imorean, looking back at Michael. “I thought we needed physical items. Huitzilopochtli isn’t real. He was a god made up by the Aztecs.”
“Well, yes and no. I see that Professor Haroel did not have the chance to tell you about other gods,” said Michael, sitting down. “Huitzilopochtli was initially a demon general. He was promoted to the rank of god by the Aztec people, who worshipped him. After that he went rogue and answered to no one. The same is true of many of the owners of items we will track down. As I said, we need a feather from the headdress of Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec god. He will be found in Mexico. Next, we need the tears of the Incan god Viracocha. For that, though, we will need to do some … extra leg work.”
“Meaning I’ll have to do some extra leg work,” muttered Imorean.
Michael clicked his tongue and paused. “Why are you like this?”
“You wouldn’t like me if I was any other way.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Enough, you two. Michael, please go on.”
“Yes, as I was saying, the first god we will visit will be Odin. We need something quite specific from him, though. The chain Gleipnir. We have a good relationship with the Norse gods, so I believe they will be willing to work with us.”
“Okay, so chain, feather, tears. That’s three. What else?”
“We will need to go to Egypt to retrieve a scale from the god Apophis.”
“Right. So, there’s four. Why do I get the feeling that the last thing is going to be the hardest to get?” asked Imorean.
“It will be,” said Michael. “The final item we need is lightning from Zeus.”
“Okay, Michael,” said Imorean in disbelief. He sighed. “This is funny and all, but what do we really need? None of this stuff exists.”
“Oh, broaden your mind, Imorean,” huffed Michael. “At this time last year, angels and demons were a myth to you.”
Imorean paused. Michael did have a point, but … “These guys are gods, Michael.”
“Not really. They are only deranged demons. What is your point?”
“They’re supposed to be super powerful,” said Imorean.
“They are only as powerful as Vortigern,” said Michael. “And if we do not move quickly, Vortigern will find these so-called gods and convince them to mobilize against us. Worse still, he may be able to gather the items himself. We stand a much better chance of striking now and bargaining, destroying or incapacitating them when they are on their own as opposed to when they are all together.”
“It’s been a while since you and Zeus have had a good old thunderstorm battle, Michael,” said Gabriel. “A few thousand years?”
Michael huffed. “Are the flashes and bangs all that you think about, Gabriel?”
“You’ve gone up against these guys before?” asked Imorean.
“We were not at our full strength and it was a long time ago. Shortly after we lost Inmerael. Gabriel is excited because Zeus and I have a similar range of powers. It is always interesting to see what happens when like powers meet,” said Michael. He paused, then plunged onward. “Our next order of business. Imorean, you will be the one to gather most of, if not all, these items.”
“I knew it. I swear, I ‘effing knew it. Why?”
“I am going to pretend I did not hear that. I am going to be sending you partly because you have nothing better to do and you should be kept busy,” said Michael. “You are leaps and bounds ahead of your peers in the field. Getting more experience will do you a world of good. Gabriel, Raphael and I will go with you on the first and the last task. All the other retrieval missions or side missions that may arise, you and your companions will go on alone. If needs must, we will alter the plans in future.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Michael?” asked Imorean.
“I do not have another option,” said Michael.
“The guys you’re sending me up against are gods. I don’t stand a chance,” said Imorean, darting a glance around the table. “Less of a chance than I did with Vortigern. I thought you said I wouldn’t be a soloist.”
“In most cases they are not as powerful as Archangels. You have nothing to worry about,” said Michael. Imorean could hear the strain in his voice, a sure sign that he was growing irritated.
“If you say so,” said Imorean, shaking his head. “When do I start?”
“As soon as you feel that you are sufficiently recovered from what happened in Iceland,” said Michael. “As soon as we can. Though, we may be able to hold until after the summer depending on what your plans are.”
“What about our mission to Antarctica? What’ll happen there?” asked Imorean. He couldn’t hide the tremor in his own voice.
“One thing at a time, Imorean,” said Gabriel, smiling. “For now, let’s just focus on getting these items from the gods, shall we?”
Imorean smiled back at Gabriel, glad of his comfort.
“Gabriel is right. We will cover the Antarctica brief at a later date. As of now, the most important thing is getting these items. Without them, we have no way to bar it.”
“Right,” said Imorean, lowering his gaze to the table. “Where do I find Zeus and Viracocha? You already said where I could find the others.”
“Zeus, we believe, is still in Greece, but Viracocha …” said Gabriel, allowing his sentence to trail off.
“Viracocha is where?” asked Imorean, raising one eyebrow.
“As I said, finding Viracocha is going to take a bit of extra effort. We believe he is somewhere in South America, but we will need a map that will lead us to him. We will discuss that closer to the time,” said Michael, folding his hands. “It has been a few centuries since we have seen or heard from him.”
Imorean leaned back in his chair and grouched. “Well that’s just fantastic.”
“If that’s all we have to cover …” said Uriel, moving to stand up.
“Yes, that is everything,” said Michael, shutting the folder of papers on the table. “You are all dismissed. Imorean, stay.”
Imorean slouched in his chair. He wanted to get out of the conference room. He sighed as Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel exited. He knew what Michael wanted to talk about.
Michael rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. “I need to know, Imorean. I need an answer.”
“About what?”
“You know exactly what.”
“My squad …” Imorean sighed. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He looked away from Michael, down at the table. He remembered Baxter’s words from earlier. None of them wanted to be split up. They all still wanted to be in the squad, but Imorean didn’t know if he could bear to be in charge of people who might be killed.
Michael’s voice was soft. Softer than it had been all day. “This has been giving you a great deal of grief, has it not?”
“More than you know.”
“It is better to work with those you know, Imorean.”
“So insightful, Michael. Thank you for that life-altering advice.” He sighed hard. “You’re saying I should reunite the squad?”
“Yes. I believe that with some adjustments you can still function well as a unit.”
Imorean took a deep breath. The prospect of becoming squad leader again was daunting – more than daunting – but there was no group of students he would rather be with.
“I want them in on this.”
“Good. You may brief them yourself this evening.”
Imorean nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. Michael flipped through a few papers and clicked his tongue. Imorean stood up. Was he dismissed? Michael hadn’t said otherwise. He hes
itated, waiting for Michael to tell him anything else. Silence. He turned and left the room, glad to be going.
The soles of Imorean’s sneakers squeaked on the tile floor of Rawl Building as he made his way toward the exit. He didn’t know how to distinguish what he was feeling. Apprehension? Excitement? Fear? No emotion seemed to separate well from the other. Finding artifacts? He didn’t know if he was ready. He didn’t know if he ever would be ready. How much more did Michael plan to pile on him? He was only one person.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and paused. Someone was near him, walking up from behind. Too close. His heart thudded and he spun. Raphael. For a split second, Imorean thought it was Vortigern. He froze. Raphael and Vortigern really did share an uncanny resemblance. It was uncomfortable. Raphael raised one hand and Imorean flinched, imagining for one wild moment that he was going to hit him.
A pause. Raphael rested a hand on his shoulder. “You asked me to tell you when Roxy was awake?”
“Yeah?” asked Imorean, flinching away from Raphael’s grasp. There was just something too uncomfortable about the similarities to Vortigern.
“Roxy is doing better today. She woke up just a few minutes before we started the brief. She wants to see you,” said Raphael, sounding exhausted but happy.
“Where is she?” asked Imorean, his heart leaping in his chest. Roxy had pulled through. She had made it. She was awake. Imorean adjusted the way he stood and looked closer at Raphael. Dark rings shadowed the skin beneath his pale eyes. He looked as tired as he sounded, but there was a brightness to his expression that made Imorean’s wings flare up away from his shoulders.
“She’s in her bed in the hospital wing. Come with me.”
Chapter 5
Imorean relaxed for the first time in days as he entered the hospital wing. The sight that greeted him made his heart soar. Roxy was sitting up in bed, reading a book. Her multicolored, parrot wings were folded behind her shoulders. The only thing that made her look out of place was her white, hospital gown.
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