Caitlin’s verbal stumble did not go unnoticed by Sam. He narrowed his eyes, the pieces coming together: the enhanced strength, the immunity to pain, the knowledge he shouldn’t have.
The strange glimmer over Gregory’s shoulder.
“And it’s so easy.” The bleeding madman continued to advance. “All you have to do is tell people what they want to hear, let them convince themselves that you’re right. So easy to drop hints here, suggestions there, until not listening becomes impossible. Easy,” he repeated, pausing to laugh. Sam would have thought that laugh cliché, straight out of the movies, if the situation weren’t so dire.
Sam drew himself up, his aching muscles protesting, and began to make signs in the air. Caitlin’s eyes widened, and a fire seemed to light in his gaze. “No.” He moved into a run, a sprint over to where Sam stood.
Sam’s fingers continued to move as Gregory Caitlin closed in, hands reached out in a choking grip, aiming for Sam’s throat. Sam didn’t flinch even as Caitlin launched from the ground to cover the last few feet more quickly.
Sam felt Gregory’s fingers on his neck as he finished his spell. One of the first he had ever learned. A simple acknowledgment of the free will of humanity.
The exorcism.
“Begone.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
For a moment, the spell seemed to have no effect; Gregory Caitlin’s fingers continued to clamp down on Samuel Buckland’s neck, hatred still burning like gas flames in Caitlin’s eyes.
Then it hit.
This was no gentle dissolution of an ethereal being; there was no soft wailing or crying. This was an atomic explosion of power, the concussive force of the exorcism throwing the two men apart from each other. Sam was hurled into a metal pole, his back slamming it and the pain causing him to cry out, while Caitlin tumbled into a nearby wall.
Sam’s eyes blinked, tearing from the pain, as the creature was torn from Caitlin’s unconscious body. Golden lightning arced from Caitlin’s eyes, ears, and mouth and formed into a shape. At first, the shape was the outline of something sinuous and thick, reminding Sam of the python he had seen at the zoo when he was younger. The figure began to fill in, gold and black scales surrounding a silver forked tongue; the snake rose up and hissed at Sam, who scrambled backwards on his hands and feet. Sixty, seventy, eighty feet long, the snake coiled up, towering over Sam, electricity and power coursing over it. Its fangs bared, and Sam stared into its black eyes.
Then the snake seemed to collapse in on itself, the flesh boiling, shrinking, changing shape. Sam’s mouth was agape as he watched the serpent’s shape reform into that of a seven-foot tall angel, resplendent in a robe of rainbow colors, his golden hair shimmering and his face shining with glory.
If this is not God, how can the universe allow for something to be more beautiful than this?
The angel’s features were twisted with anger, and a scimitar of shimmering flame appeared in his hand. He stepped toward Sam, raising the blade.
“L…Lucifer.” Sam was defenseless; he could not raise a hand to this.
“Yes.” The angel’s song lanced into Sam’s ears, his mind, his heart, burning it with the rage contained within. “You dared cast me out, mortal man? Dared to cross me? I will see you brought with me into the caverns of Hell for the damned souls to feast upon for eternity for your insolence.”
Lucifer stood over Sam, and the latter felt scorched by the angel’s eyes. “Insolence?” Sam could feel the shock wearing off; Lucifer’s visage was solidifying into a singular vision – still glorious, but manageable. “Trying to stop you from using Gabriel as a pocket Ouija board? Trying to keep you from killing innocent people?”
Lucifer swelled up, gaining a foot in height and filling the room with radiance. His voice began to echo off the walls and reverberate through the air as he spoke.
“YOU ARE DIRTBORN SCUM!” Sam covered his ears to protect them from the onslaught. “ALL OF YOU ARE BENEATH THE NOTICE OF MY GLORY! NONE OF YOU ARE WORTHY OF FATHER’S LOVE!” He swung his scimitar toward Sam, who dove out of the way as the blade carved a flaming crescent into the floor where he had been sitting. “I WAS THE FIRST, GOD’S FIRST CHILD, AND THEN HE SET YOU ABOVE ME? YOUR FLESH IS WEAK, YOUR MINDS ARE WEAKER, AND YET HE SET YOU ABOVE ME? ABOVE US?!” Once more, the blade came, and again Sam dodged, but this time he was not fast enough; the tip caught his right shoulder, searing the flesh and causing Sam to scream. Lucifer raised his sword high, and Sam looked into his glowing eyes, and saw his death.
“NOW YOU DIE, MEWLING, PATHETIC, AND MY PUPPET WILL RULE EARTH IN MY NAME, AND GOD WILL SEE WHAT A MISTAKE HE MADE IN UPLIFTING WEAK CREATURES SUCH AS YOU.”
The sword began its descent, a descent which, for Sam, seemed to take hours to complete. Sam closed his eyes and prepared for the blow to come. I’m sorry, Mom, Gramma. The fear vanished, and he felt only the warmth in his shoulder. I’m sorry, Gabriel. I did my best. I only hope…
Wait. He opened an eyelid to survey the scene. I’m not dead yet. He glanced over to where Lucifer stood.
The angel’s sword had stopped about a foot above Sam’s head. Anger, rage, and…fear?...warred on Lucifer’s face as his muscles strained against something. The angel screamed, his frustration evident in his voice. Sam looked at the titanic figure, eyes narrowing, confused.
Until he saw them.
There were runes on his hands and arms, glowing red, restraining him much like the ones that Sam had seen appear on Michael after the defeat of Azrael.
Sam’s eyelids opened fully as the realization hit him: Lucifer had been trapped by a spell.
Not my spell. That only leaves…
Sam looked behind the bound form of Lucifer to see Gregory Caitlin, standing near the wall of the building with a bad lump forming on one side of his head and blood trickling from his nose. His sleeve was stuck to his arm, soaked in red. His hands were extended, and his teeth were visible. He panted with the exertion of his magic.
“You shouldn’t…turn your back…on someone who can use the Keys, you fucker.”
“RELEASE ME, CAITLIN.” Lucifer strained to turn toward his former tool. “OR I WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU CARE FOR BEFORE COMING BACK FOR YOU!”
Caitlin laughed. “You already did that, damn you. You led me down the wide and easy path, you bastard, and I followed you gladly. Now there is only one road left for me.”
Gregory turned his face to Sam, who was now standing, cradling his shoulder, looking on in awe. “I’m sorry for what I did to you and to the others, Sam. I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I hope that you can grant it to me anyway.”
Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes, stinging, biting; the memories of anger, of loss, filled him and defined him, tensing his muscles and clenching his fists.
Then he remembered Gabriel’s smile, and her words. I do not hate Gregory Caitlin for what he has done, nor for what he may still do.
The anger in his soul became hollow, pithy, empty. He sighed.
“If Gabriel can forgive you, then it’s the least I can do.”
Gregory smiled, the first real one in a long time, and nodded. “Your book is in my trunk. Make sure that this never happens again, Sam. Don’t let anyone else get hold of it. Keep it safe.”
Sam nodded, taking a step back toward the front door. “I will, Gregory. Take care of yourself.”
“NO!” Lucifer struggled against his metaphysical bonds. “THIS WILL NOT BE! YOU WILL RELEASE ME!”
“Go on, Sam.” Sam complied, bolting out the door. Gregory stepped in front of the angered angel, who ceased his efforts to escape and turned his burning eyes on his captor.
“What now, Caitlin?” Lucifer returned to a more normal voice. “You have beaten me, Lucifer, Lord of Hell. I am at your mercy.” Lucifer spread his hands. “What would you ask of me, what service must I render, for you to set me free?”
Caitlin didn’t hesitate. “Go to Hell, monster.”
Lucifer did.
~~~<
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Samuel Buckland ran as fast as he could out the door of the Science Center and toward the Town Car parked in the driveway. He could hear the emergency sirens whining in the distance, and could sense the air spirits releasing the drivers from the illusions they had been held under. His breath came hard as he sprinted, looking back, expecting some sort of explosion, fireworks, something cataclysmic and indicative of the epic being he had just left behind.
Instead, Gregory stumbled out of the building and sat down on the front stairs, his shirt torn and the fragments wrapped around his arm, as Sam made it to the Lincoln. Sam popped the trunk, grabbed the book, and got into his own car. The police and fire departments rolled in just as Sam was pulling out, and Sam saw the officers draw on Caitlin, yelling at him to put his hands up and lay on the ground.
The ride home in the sliced-up car was a long one for Sam. His thoughts were consumed with what had just happened, what had been happening these past few weeks. How his life had changed. His parents dead. An amazing and costly gift given to him. A new purpose in his life.
Sam’s attention turned to the radio as his car pulled in to his driveway. “…Caitlin was arrested in front of the California Science Center this morning. He was taken to a hospital for treatment of a severe injury to his arm, and, according to an anonymous source, he confessed to involvement in the deaths of a Dr. Martha Stone and Mr. Kurtis Birch. We made an attempt to contact his wife, but she has not returned our calls. Representatives from Mr. Caitlin’s political campaign have submitted a formal withdrawal from the race, citing concerns about Mr. Caitlin’s physical and mental well-being.
“At two, we will have political analysts Mr. Deacon Fox and Mrs. Megan Fitzgerald on to discuss the ramifications…”
Sam exited the car, began to walk toward his door, then tossed his keys into the grass and sat down next to them.
This wasn’t how I expected things to end.
“And what, exactly, were you expecting to happen, Samuel Buckland?”
Sam snapped his head up to see the luminescent form of the Archangel Gabriel, restored and standing before him, dressed in flowing samite robes and with her silver-tipped wings extended behind her.
“Gabriel?” A warm glow filled him as he soaked up the angel’s radiance. “Don’t you have more important things to be doing than to check up on me?”
“I had a few minutes.” She nodded toward Sam. “And the Keeper of the Keys is certainly worthy of attention from the Host.” Her smile disappeared and her light dimmed as her wings folded behind her back. “Are you all right?”
Sam stood up, shaking his head. “I don’t know.” His mouth opened and closed as he fumbled for words. “One minute, the whole thing feels like a dream, like I’m going to wake up and just be plain Sam Buckland, working at an accountant’s firm. Then I remember his face, Lucifer’s face…and I wonder if I will ever see anything that beautiful again. And that terrifies me.”
“You are not the first who has despaired at the loss of the Lightbringer’s beauty. We all mourned when he left Heaven.”
“And then I wonder what’s next.” Tears began to form in Sam’s eyes, and Gabriel bowed her head as he spoke. “I mean, things can’t go back to normal, can they? I’ll never unsee these things, unknow what I know. How can someone go on with just normal life when they have to deal with all these things that no one else can see, hear, know?” He shook his head; Gabriel nodded. “What does God want me to do, Gabriel? What’s supposed to happen now?”
“You do your best, Samuel Buckland.” The Archangel came over to Sam and took both of his hands. “Heaven trusts you, or you would not have been allowed to keep the power of Solomon. Be the man you wish to be. Use the power in ways which feel right to you.”
Sam laughed. “You aren’t afraid I’ll misuse it? Go power crazy?”
Gabriel shook her head. “It has never happened. None found worthy once have ever been proven unworthy later. Satan’s judgment is without error; this is his assigned function. As my revelations are always correct, so is Satan’s estimation of character.”
“So I should, what? Become some sort of super hero? I don’t think spandex would suit me, Gabriel.”
Gabriel’s mouth turned in a crooked smile. “Some of your ancestors did that, and became legendary magicians of great renown. More recently, with the waning belief in magic, most have chosen to use their powers with discretion, in secrecy, to shape the destiny of mankind for the better. I believe that you will do great things, Samuel Buckland; more importantly, I believe you will do good things.”
Sam smiled again, but the sarcasm was gone. “Does God believe that too?”
Gabriel laughed. “You have no idea, do you, Sam?” She let go of Sam’s hands and placed her right palm on his chest.
“What…” began Sam, but the sensations invading his mind cut short anything he had to say.
In a single breath, Sam felt his perspective expand across the Universe; he could see, feel, the outer reaches of every galaxy, the minute specks of dust in the nebulae, the fiery hearts of the stars. The soul of Creation thrummed in his heart, and he drank in the beauty and power of all of it.
Then his viewpoint narrowed to a blue sphere orbiting a yellow star. It was so lovely, this gem, this glimmering orb in the midst of the darkness of space. He had to look closer.
Again, his perspective narrowed, but it expanded as well; all the life on Earth was known to him, from the blue whales and redwood trees to the insects and bacteria. Each breath, each birth, each death came to him, and he rejoiced in all of it.
Then there was Humanity. Something different. Something capable of choosing to do wrong, of choosing to do evil.
Each evil act, each thoughtless, selfish, rash and hasty action which hurt others, present and future, he felt, and it stung him as if he were the victim. Each murder killed him, each theft deprived him, each taunt bit into his sense of self-worth. Wrath, anger, and pity roiled within him, and, for a moment, he considered what Earth would be like if there were no men, no women. Peaceful. No hatred.
Then he shifted his glance, and the wonder of humanity’s goodness swept over him. Charity, forbearance, tolerance and hope crushed in upon him in a million different ways over a billion different lives; each kindness echoed across time to affect people who would not even be born when the act was committed. Sam felt himself weeping with joy, unable to stem the tears of love he felt for each and every person, the love he felt for the goodness hidden within each. In some, it was hidden deeply; in others, not, but in every soul, it was there, and he loved it.
Sam blinked, and it was gone, and he was on his knees in his yard, next to an archangel. “W…was that…?”
“Yes, Sam. It was.” Gabriel knelt down next to him. “I showed you how God sees you. The smallest fragment of His omniscient perspective. The unbounded love He has for you. All of you, from the great to the meek. God believes that all of you will do good things, Sam. That is why it hurts Him so much when you fail; He expects much because He knows what you are capable of.” Gabriel took Sam by the hands again and helped him return to his feet. “Trust in God, Samuel. In all things, trust in God, and you will find that everything else falls into place.”
Sam wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Will…will I ever see you again? See Michael again?”
Gabriel smiled. “No. The Archangels do not travel to Earth lightly. Unless the Lord demands the birth of a prophet or commands the Host to war, neither Michael nor I will return in corporeal form again.”
“Wait a minute.” Sam’s brow creased in thought. “I know Michael was here to find you, but…why were you here in the first place, Gabriel? What was so important?”
Gabriel tilted her head. “A worthy question, Samuel. But one I shall not answer today. Suffice that there was reason enough, and that that reason has passed.”
Sam’s face fell. “Oh.” He put out his hand. “Then…goodbye, Gabriel. Thank you for everything.”
Gabrie
l laughed; the music echoed in the garage as light began to flow from her form once again. “Thank me? Samuel Buckland, you have saved me from an eternity of servitude at the hands of Lucifer himself. I think that, as you would say, I owe you one.” She took his hand, pressed her lips to it; the warmth tickled Sam’s skin. “I look forward to seeing how your life plays out, young Keeper, and await your arrival in Heaven.”
“I hope it’s not too soon, though.”
“Goodbye, Sam.” Gabriel stepped back as her luminescence grew, and Sam shut his eyes to keep out the glow as it reached its apex. A moment later, it was gone, and, again, there was the smell of honeysuckle left behind. Sam shook his head, then looked at his hand. There, on the spot where Gabriel’s lips had touched it, was a stylized version of the Moon in a crescent-shaped cradle replacing the burn that once occupied that space.
He smiled. Gabriel’s name, in Angelic form.
At least I’ll never have to doubt whether this all really happened or not, will I?
Samuel Buckland, Keeper of the Keys, went into his house to take a long-delayed shower; after that, he planned to curl up in bed and sleep for about 3 days.
Then he could figure out what to do next.
What would it be? He didn’t know.
But whatever it was, it was going to be good.
END
SNEAK PREVIEW OF BONDS OF FATE
Please enjoy this peek into the future with the upcoming second volume of the Samuel Buckland Chronicles!
THE INVADERS
Jambres crowed, his laughter and jubilation echoing over the luminescent landscape of the Heavenly city as he flew through the air. He pointed his swarthy hand at the retreating backs of the defeated Archangels—bleeding golden light, their radiance flickering as they withdrew—and dark energy began to swirl about his fingers.
“Enough.” Another hand closed about his, with the same skin. Both men’s robes flapped in the warm breeze of the celestial sky. “They are defeated, brother. Do not forget why we are here.”
Chains of Prophecy: A Tale of Mythic Discovery Page 19