by T. R. Hamby
Gilla stiffened. “He said that?”
Michael nodded, and she shivered. “God.”
“I know.”
They were quiet, lost in the horror of their potential destruction.
Michael closed his eyes. Doomsday, the apocalypse, Ragnarok. All myths and fairytales told by mortals. It had never been real.
But now it was.
“Her voice wasn’t right,” he suddenly said. “He couldn’t Create her right.”
Gilla was quiet. Then, “What do you think that means?”
“I think he’s furious,” he said. “And afraid.”
He paused. His heart was still racing, and he was thinking, carefully.
Father may have, finally, reached his limit. His focus was off, his rage and fear blinding him. If this was true, then fighting him would be easier. Much easier--maybe.
“He’s still trying to contact me,” Michael said, frowning. “But he’s basically written me off. What does he want?”
Gilla turned on the lamp and looked at him. “You’re not thinking about talking to him.”
He hesitated, and she looked stern. “Michael. It’s too dangerous.”
“I could learn what he’s planning--”
“You know he’s too smart to tell you anything.”
“He’s angry. He’s weakening. He might let something slip.”
“He may know you’ll want to reach out to him. He could be luring you so he can kill you.”
“Them’s--Lilith’s shield would--”
“The edge of her shield wasn’t enough to prevent God from cracking that ice,” she reminded him.
“But it was just that,” Michael said. “He couldn’t injure Roone.”
Gilla finally heaved a sigh.
Michael studied her. He didn’t think he would ever get over how beautiful she was, even in her frustration.
He slipped his arms around her waist, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
“This is a war,” he murmured. “We have to take chances.”
“You’re not expendable,” she whispered hoarsely. “You’re Michael. You’re important.”
“This isn’t just about us anymore. Creation is at stake. Lilith and her Creation are at stake. Their death--it won’t be moving on to the next life--it’ll be nothing.”
She was quiet.
His heart ached, and he brushed at her hair. “We have to stop him. This is the most important thing we’ll ever do.”
She was quiet for another moment, before nodding. “I know.”
Her voice was so mournful that he held her tighter, shushing her. She slipped her arms around his neck, and for a while they were like that, just holding each other. Michael wanted it to last so much longer--wanted to spend the day in bed with her--but dawn came, and that meant training.
They went down to breakfast--just cereal for the humans. They sat at the table, all troubled--except for Roone, who had a slight smile on his face.
Michael looked at Mel, and suddenly, shockingly, remembered Lilith.
He was a little too dull to be emotional again, but the horror of kneeling before the woman he had executed still made him miserable.
Or perhaps it wasn’t kneeling before her--after all, how often had he dreamed of offering his life to her in repentance? No--it was forgiveness that haunted him. Maybe Lilith had forgiven him. There was some comfort in that. But as much as she and Mel--and Gilla, and Nora, everyone--urged him to, Michael couldn’t forgive himself.
Gilla took his hand and squeezed, and he managed a smile.
“How are you?” Mel asked as the group finally left the house.
It had snowed during the night, blanketing the ground and the tents, with, once again, white. The Valkyries were already up, bustling around, darting between tents and speaking loudly. Some were laughing, others were serious.
Michael felt a little ill. “Fine.”
Mel looked worried, but left it alone.
Theresa arrived, beaming. She said hello, then drew to Roone, as she usually did. They grinned at each other, talking quietly. Michael saw Roone lightly touch her waist, and knew instantly that they had slept together.
Mel was watching too, and turned to look at him. “They look like they fucked,” he whispered.
Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at Mel’s crass words, and wondered if he had used the language just to amuse him. “Yeah.”
“Lilith might not like that.”
Michael winced at the name, but shook it off. “I don’t know….she brought them together. She might have figured it would happen.”
“That’s true….”
And Mel looked a little sick himself. “What he did to Nora--what if he does it to her?”
Michael didn’t want to think about it. “Lilith wouldn’t let it happen.”
He hoped.
He looked at him. “I had another dream last night,” he said gravely. “I’m bringing it up at the meeting.”
Mel nodded, intrigued. “All right. Is it bad?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck.”
“Could be enlightening, though,” Michael said vaguely, watching as Roone murmured in Theresa’s ear, “if everyone agrees.”
They waited until seven, and then made their way past the other Valkyries to the Big Tent by the stables. They slipped inside, and found several Valkyries--and Lilith--waiting at the table. Theresa took her place with them, and Michael and the rest of the family stood on the opposite side.
Lilith smiled. “Thank you for coming.”
They nodded.
She nodded too--a little weakly--and looked at Diana.
“Diana will be in command of our army,” she said. “I’ll merely be an advisor. She has more experience than any of us in warfare, so it makes sense.”
“You have the final say, of course,” Diana said firmly, and Lilith gave her a look. “I mean it.”
“If you want--but you know I’ll just agree with you.”
“Even so.”
Lilith nodded, and Diana became brisk. “Right. So--the three hundred arrived an hour ago, on the eastern side of the estate,” she said, pointing to a spot on a survey of the property. “They’re getting settled now, and now we have to reestablish ranking.
“Veronica and Perdita will lead 185 each. Four teams of ninety-three each, eight regiments of forty-six, roughly; and sixteen units of twenty-three.”
She looked around to ensure everyone understood, and Michael nodded firmly. Diana in command, Veronica and Perdita lieutenants, four teams, eight regiments, sixteen units.
When Diana was satisfied she continued, “I’ll announce the rest of the leaders once the three hundred have settled in. But for those in here--Theresa, you’ll be leading Unit 13. Barry will be following you. Michael will be leading the archers in the 7th Regiment. And Nora will lead Unit 16 at the house.”
She looked at them. “This is war now. No more sleeping in your bedrooms. You’ll be living with your regiments. You report to your leader. It’s camping from now on.”
Michael felt his heart sink. Gilla was probably in a different regiment. He hadn’t slept without her beside him since the night before their wedding.
He looked at her, and saw a stubborn look on her face. He hid a smile--it would be difficult keeping her out of his tent.
For a while they talked battle plans--all were expecting Father’s forces to arrive without warning. They discussed different situations--nighttime, daytime, good weather, bad weather.
“Here’s the schematics for the house,” Mel finally said, handing Diana a roll of paper.
“Good--Nora,” and she looked at Nora, “you and your unit will meet with me to discuss guarding the house. Later today.”
Nora nodded gravely. Her expression was difficult to decipher, and Michael wondered how ready she was to lead a small army of twenty-three. At the moment she looked poised for anything.
God, Nora.
Diana looked at Lilith. “Anything to add?”<
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Lilith’s lips twitched. “No.”
“Good. We’ll leave it--”
“I have something,” Michael said, taking a step forward.
Lilith looked at him, and he avoided her gaze, his insides burning with sickening shame.
Everyone waited, so he told them about the dream. When he got to the part when Father considered destroying everything, they blanched.
“Fuck,” Mel hissed. “Fuck.”
“But is it really a surprise?” Nora asked quietly.
“He could at least leave the mortals out of it,” Mel growled furiously.
Michael grasped his shoulder before the temperature could turn frigid. “Calm down.”
Mel took a steadying breath.
Michael looked at them. “I need to talk to him.”
There were cries of protest.
“I’ll do it again,” Roone said instantly.
“He wants me,” Michael replied. “He’s been trying to speak to me this whole time.”
“What exactly would it accomplish?” Diana said. “Besides putting yourself in danger?”
“The edge of my shield is strong enough to protect him,” Lilith said firmly. “He won’t be hurt.”
“He misses me,” Michael said, almost insistently. “Or he’s--whatever emotion he’s capable of. I was his Favored Son, Created in his likeness. He regrets that I betrayed him.”
“He’s not going to tell you anything,” Mel said.
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“He’s right,” Gabriel said quietly.
They turned to him, and he shrugged. “Father might let something slip. Or maybe he won’t. Either way, we can’t pass up the chance. There has to be something Michael can get from the conversation.”
He looked at Michael, who nodded gratefully. He suddenly had an image of a young Gabriel, toddling around the house with his sister, shrieking and laughing. How did it all go by so fast?
There was a long silence. Diana looked unsure. Lilith looked determined.
Finally Mel asked, “When?”
“Today,” Diana said. “Three o’clock. We’ll have three regiments accompany us. All of you will have weapons ready.”
There were murmurs of agreement. They left the tent, and Michael shared a kiss with Gilla before heading for his regiment. He looked over his shoulder and saw Theresa and Roone talking to an amused-looking Lilith. Apparently her blessing was needed.
There was something about that that made him smile--just a little.
He found his archers, the group having grown from a dozen to forty-six. He assigned leaders to the two units, and the regiment trained.
It was a busy day. Michael was too preoccupied to notice the time inching closer and closer to his, perhaps final, talk with Father.
Then Gabriel was there.
“It’s Hudson,” he said.
“What?”
He left the Valkyries to rest and followed Gabriel towards the house. At the edge of the line of tents was Hudson, along with Barry, Roone and Mel.
“You’ve been busy,” she said, looking stunned at the Valkyries running here and there along the rows of tents. “I’ve gotten complaints about trespassers on the estate next door.”
“And here we thought you missed us,” Barry said dryly.
Hudson’s lips twitched. “To be honest, I wanted to let our relationship end after Wells’ arrest. But here we are.”
She looked at the men, all of whom shifted awkwardly. No one wanted to tell her what was going on.
“Look,” Mel finally said, “it’s safer for you not to meddle in this.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly am I supposed to tell the Piersons next door?”
They looked at each other, unsure.
It was Gabriel who spoke.
“Get them out,” he said, almost desperately. “Something big is going on. Huge. They’re in danger if they stay nearby. This won’t be contained,” he added when Hudson opened her mouth to protest.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“No point telling you,” Barry replied. “It’s enough that you know that it’s big. Life-threatening. Angel shit, you know?”
“Not really,” she said, but Michael could see she was pale.
She looked around at them.
Michael felt ashamed. All the planning, and none of them had thought about the innocent humans on the neighboring estates.
“Get rid of all of them,” he said firmly. “Everyone in a ten mile radius. Tell them to go to their summer homes.”
Hudson looked thoughtful. “Most of them are there already….the Piersons and the Grays like to stay for New Year’s….I’ll talk to them. I have some dirt on both families.”
And she actually smirked.
But then she frowned. “Is this….big thing….military in any sense?”
They looked at each other. Again, no one wanted to reply.
“I have access to some things,” she said patiently. “Connections….if you’re looking for artillery, maybe?”
“Shit, seriously?” Barry exclaimed.
“Seriously.”
“What about explosives?”
“Oh, we’re blowing up shit now?” Gabriel asked, grinning.
“Why not?” Barry replied, looking around at them.
Michael nodded. It was a good idea.
“I’ll see what I can find,” Hudson said.
“Don’t bring it back yourself, though,” Mel warned firmly. “You can’t come back. He’ll….notice. Have your contact leave it on the drive.”
She nodded, then looked around again, eyebrow raised.
“Whatever it is,” she finally said, “give them hell.”
Three o’clock.
Everyone kept so close to Michael as they approached the creek that he felt suffocated.
“It’ll be fine,” he said as Gilla took his hand. “He won’t hurt me--he can’t.”
“He sent Roone through the ice,” Mel hissed, and Roone shifted awkwardly.
“He wasn’t able to kill me,” he said.
“Lilith says her shield will hold,” Nora said firmly. “We have to trust her.”
“Thank you,” Lilith said, and everyone jumped.
She had appeared at Barry’s elbow, looking amused. Michael rather thought she felt much more in her element now that she was reunited with her Valkyries.
She looked at him, and he resisted the urge to shrink away, still horrified at having to face the woman he had murdered all those years ago.
Her voice was gentle. “My shield is stronger now that I’m down here. He can’t hurt you.”
Michael looked away. He felt sick again. Maybe it was better that Father killed him--Lilith would be avenged….
He shook himself. No. He couldn’t think that way. He had a wife. A family. They needed him.
He took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s get it over with.”
He kissed Gilla again, and then walked out onto the ice.
Mel whistled when he reached the middle of the creek. A hole nearby indicated where Roone had fallen through just yesterday.
He waited. When nothing happened, he turned to face the bank. His family was there, swords drawn, along with a small portion of the Valkyrie army. Lilith looked focused.
Michael.
It was still from far away, and almost crackling. But Michael could hear.
He took a steadying breath.
Here I am, he thought.
It had the desired effect. Father was silent--and Michael, suddenly, had a vision. It was difficult to see--but it looked like Angels. Yes, that’s what it was….a glimpse into the Immortal World….
Oh, my son. How far you’ve strayed, Father finally said.
He didn’t reply.
Why are you here?
Michael’s hands shook. He balled them into fists and closed his eyes. It was a small army of them….maybe around a hundred….readying….
You keep Calling me, he
said, feeling a surge of rage. Why? Why bother after I betrayed you?
Father was patient. I want you to return to me.
Michael swore. He hadn’t expected to feel such anger, but everything--Lilith’s appearance, her forgiveness, the Angels readying for battle--it was all about to boil over.
Why would I? After what you’ve done? He demanded. After what you did to Mel, to Lilith, to me? To my family?
You are angry, Father whispered, so faintly that Michael almost didn’t hear.
Father’s voice was dangerous. My Creation. You are all petulant things. I had hoped my Favored Son and his waste of a brother would be better than the rest of them. But even the two of you have fallen into darkness.
There was a silence. Michael, though his eyes were closed, squinted: He thought he saw Calypso too. Yes….she was training. In the clearing by Father’s mountain.
But perhaps, Father continued, gently, I was too harsh.
Michael’s heart was racing, and he took a deep breath. Are you going to kill us?
No, Father said, not if I don’t have to….come back to me, my son. Help me destroy your goddess. Everything will be well again if you just help me kill her. You and your family will be safe, and I won’t ask another thing from you. You can….retire.
Michael fought the urge to snort. If Father meant “retire” as in “die,” then Michael believed him.
Father must have found Michael’s silence encouraging, because he asked, Who is Them?
The vision changed. Now Michael was looking at a suit of armor, mounted on a stone wall….
His heart sank, and it took him a couple moments to get his bearings.
Father was coming down.
He took a steadying breath. She’s a powerful goddess.
As powerful as me?
He hesitated, then went with, I don’t think so.
Good….we’ll focus on her troops first….rid her of her defenses….I sent too little Angels last time; I won’t make that mistake again….
Michael was incredulous. He had only seen about a hundred Angels in his vision, maybe less. If what he had seen in that vision was true, then Father was still making mistakes.
He ground his teeth together. The visions had gone.
Father seemed to know that Michael wasn’t going to return to him. He sneered, It has been wretched, watching your descent. From the day you murdered that woman you have been worse than a beast.