by Ramy Vance
Deirdre was right: we were doomed. We were a weaponless, five-arm-strong adventuring party about to storm the gates of Mordor. Or rather, the gates of Mordor were about to storm us.
I really wished Aldie was with us. His elven prowess was sorely missed. But more than that, I found myself craving one of his believe in yourself speeches. I could really use a pep talk.
Deirdre and Egya were hard at work gathering stones. They were counting on the David vs. Goliath win … I, on the other hand, was less optimistic that a well-aimed rock would turn the tide of this battle.
But if Aldie had taught me anything, it was that if you believed you were doomed, you probably were. Especially considering the only other thing that would save us—the phone I had used to call 911—was somewhere among the destruction of the plane we’d just crashed in.
So, stones it was.
We must have built about three decent-sized piles when Egya lifted his nose to the air and said, “They’re here.”
Oh yay!
↔
Stepping out from under the canopy, I watched as Oche lowered from the sky, Enoch cradled in his arms like they were newlyweds. Hah—newlyweds. I wondered what my death would do to our honeymoon. Knowing Enoch, he probably had some zombie spell in his arsenal and his revised plan was to reanimate me, Walking Dead style.
Still, I had one ace up my sleeve.
“Still want this?” I held up the Soul Jar.
Enoch nodded. “I’m afraid, dear Katrina, that we are past bartering for your life or the lives of your friends. This is the end game for you.”
“I know,” I said. “I figure that I’m doomed, Fates predicting our nuptials or not. Still, just because you’re over me doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you.”
“You cannot,” he rasped.
“Oh, but I can.” I set the Soul Jar on the ground and, picking up a large rock before me, I held it over the tiny magic item. As soon as I did, Oche tensed as he prepared to rush at me.
Enoch held out a steadying hand. “Humph—do you really think an item as powerful as the Soul Jar can be destroyed by a mortal hand and an ordinary rock?”
“I have no idea, but from the way you just stopped your pet pigeon, I’m taking it that you don’t, either.”
Enoch may have been an expert poker player, but even the best at hiding their telltale signs will break when something they truly love or need is threatened. Enoch’s eyes twitched. That was all I needed to know that he wasn’t willing to risk it.
Besides, I knew I was right the minute I looked at him. I was wearing his little lens—the Eye of Borvo—and it revealed his greatest desires. Whereas when he landed his desires were a mixture of killing us and getting the Soul Jar, as soon as I threatened it, his desire became very much about stopping me.
“So, what’s it going to be?” I said. “Let them go?”
He tilted his head. “You still fight for them.”
“Always.”
“And if I do … the Jar?”
“No,” I said. “I’ll never give you this. Never.”
“So then, what leverage do you have?”
“An appeal to your humanity. That is all I have left. I ask you to find the kindness and decency that still thrives in your soul and let them go.”
Something that I said clearly touched a nerve, because Enoch hesitated. There were no “It’s too late” or “I have a greater purpose” speeches. He considered my plea.
“I so wish I could, but I have gone too far down the path of wrong to change now. But you know that. Just as you know that this little banter won’t change anything.”
“I know,” I said.
“Then what is the purpose of all this?”
“Egya,” I said, “any good news?”
There was a pause and a sniff. “Yes. A minute, maybe a bit more.”
“The purpose,” I said, staring down Enoch with rage-filled hate, “was to stall you while we waited for the cavalry to arrive.”
Egya’s new super-nose was wrong; we didn’t have to wait a minute. We only had to wait another three seconds before the earth shook with a deafening voice.
“What is the meaning of all this?” thundered the archangel Michael as he hovered above us. I didn’t think there was an angel in this world or any other that could be bigger than Oche, and I was wrong. Michael was. Not by much, but there was a bulk there that Oche didn’t have.
And stature. Put the two of them side by side and you knew who was in charge.
Next to Michael hovered another angel I had never seen before. She was slender, tall and looked like a young Cindy Crawford—if that was, Cindy was brandishing a glowing sword.
“Ahh, Miral and Michael have joined the party. Archangel and Leader of the Celestial Army, I welcome you,” Enoch rasped. “But this affair is not to be attended by two as lowly as you. This affair demands higher beings with a larger grasp of universal needs.”
“Holy guacamole, did he just imply that the archangel Michael is a lower being than his human ass?”
Egya howled with inhuman laughter as Deirdre tried to shush the half-turned hyena, or boy, or whatever the hell he was now. Damn, I must have thought that one out loud.
“Silence, AlwaysMortals,” Enoch growled. “None of you truly grasps what is at play here. If you think these two angels will do anything to change the outcome of this day, you are laboring under a severe misapprehension.”
I lifted a confused eyebrow. “That’s a convoluted way of saying they’re not going to help? But to your point, I don’t know about that. It’s all pretty simple, really. You’ve got a hard-on for this and me.”
He let out a dismissive breath.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You’re honestly telling me that if I had a change of heart and were to welcome you into my oh-so-pretty bosom, you’d say no?” I puffed up my chest to give him a better view of my, um, assets. “The answer is still, ‘Even if you were the last man on earth,’ by the way. Anyhoo … you want this and you want to end it all.”
I picked the Soul Jar up and held it up high. “Gabriel told me to give you this.”
Michael narrowed his eyes as he stared at the tiny, seemingly innocuous pendant in my hands. As soon as he realized what I held, I swear to the GoneGods electricity coursed through his eyes, causing the tiny hairs on my body to stand up and demand I run.
But I didn’t. I held my ground. “He said you will protect the world from the evil that would seek to use this to their own, private gain. That you were the only guardian left in this world or any other who knew what to do with this. That the hierarchy of order is yours to uphold.” As I spoke the words, I couldn’t remember Gabriel saying any of that stuff, and yet the words flowed out of me like they were the only truth I was allowed to speak.
Holy ghost, Batman, I thought, I’m being used as a celestial mouthpiece.
And that pissed me off. I hate being used. By people, other ex-vampires and angels … I’m not their toy to be manipulated. I shook my head and summoned my own will to speak. “I don’t know about all that. What I do know is that this asshole wants it. And let me repeat, just in case you missed it: Enoch here is planning on ending all life after he gets it.”
Enoch looked up at the angels. “Miral, Michael—leave. I am here doing God’s will.”
“And what is His will, exactly?” Miral pointed the tip of her sword at Enoch.
As soon as she did, Oche took a step, shielding Enoch from her should she choose to swoop down and smite his raspy ass.
“Do you threaten the Witness?” Oche snarled.
“Silence, lowly angel,” Miral shot back.
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
Time 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.