GRAGRAFEL STOOD PACES behind one of the grand generals of the four armies of Zion. Mikhael assessed his assembled soldiers and patiently waited to give the order to deploy, his pair of griffins standing attentively to either side of him. In each direction, the other officios stood above their legions doing the same. Uriel gazed over her scarlet shoulders toward him, as Dux Horus whispered in her ear from behind his great, golden falcon helm. Gragrafel's chin shifted to the other side and he saw the dusky Gabriel in his emerald armor, in command of wondrous troops that stretched their influence into the deepest reaches of Samsara. Beyond Gabriel stood the gold- and ivory-clad Raphael. The sky was dotted by the souls of the air, fowl, and far more fantastical creatures, as well as air skiffs and transports for those who couldn't blink, slide, or fly. Folding his great arms, the general in front of Gragrafel scowled, impatient at having to wait for word from the supreme commander, Metatron. Mikhael's stony features expressed other emotions as well. His eyes swept the hundreds of wings, plates, and limbs, the varied faces of soul and duta. The armaments glinted in the setting sun and he frowned deeper, missing the red and blue he wanted to see there. Gragrafel decided to wait.
"That's the last of them, General," Sephr said, approaching from behind.
Sephr's leaders went to the other corps commanders. The Moon Order squads, once commanded by Maiel, were among them, leaderless.
"Not every last one," Mikhael replied.
Sephr shrugged, amused by the absences.
The general's eagle gaze could pinpoint each soldier. In his head, he kept a record of each, from family to friends. The newest youngling could approach him and be delighted to find that he knew their name, who was in their family, the skills at which they excelled, and something that interested them the most. The other commanders were quite capable of the same, but didn't use the knowledge to much effect. Though he was infallible in his faith and wisdom, he led with his heart. The others led from duty and tradition.
Gragrafel decided to make his presence known, now that Sephr had safely disturbed the general. The Principality maneuvered his marble-like form to stand at the general's side. Again, he waited patiently for his time to speak. Mikhael most likely knew Gragrafel was to blame for the absence of three key fighters from his divisions and the one from his sister general's elite units. The old engel said nothing. He wasn't about to claim the honor, when they were both working to retrieve Maiel.
"We'll stand at the gates and strike as soon as they rear their heads. Your man better have our erela in hand by then or his mission ends in failure," Mikhael said.
Gragrafel nodded. The blustering didn't bother him.
"No worries, alder. I'll not come back without both," Mikhael said, softening.
"You best not. We may still save him," Gragrafel said dryly.
Turning to Sephr, Mikhael unfolded his thick arms. His features drew into a terrible scowl. Like Gragrafel, he wasn't sure saving the human was the best thing for his captain, but he would sooner regret failing her than leave her to fall before she realized Dominic's threat. The attachment she and Dominic had was as good as real. Perhaps, in time, she would turn naturally toward the ketu they'd betrayed. Regardless, it wasn't her general who would be blamed, for he fought hard against creating this terrible secret. He only hoped she came to understand the purpose of the act and chose not to follow her husband should he decide to side with the princes of Abaddon. Because of the advanced stage of his burning, Dominic blamed the entire duta race, though blame deserved to be placed with just a few of the hierarchy. The king may have decreed it, but matters were far more complicated than just the king passing orders. The match was made to give the boy another chance to save himself from the abyss. This wasn't a truth that would remain hidden. Both would find out. Unfortunately, how they perceived such actions was up to them. Sadly, Gragrafel knew the human would never acknowledge his guilt. That attitude might serve to make his daughter angry with her friends. One hope they had was in Gediel's discovery of the truth and that his atman now pulled on Maiel. The magnetism of their attraction would grow and skew the odds of the mission's success.
"We can't wait any longer," Mikhael said, waking the principality from his reflection.
Sephr gave a sharp nod. He waved his arm above his head. Several runners made their way to the other generals. Mikhael returned to observing his army. The horns blew and the energy rushed through the throngs of soldiers; even he was moved despite having stood here many times through the ages. Many danava would be destroyed that night. If Mikhael had his way, Abaddon would be no more and every soul would be avenged their wrongs.
Gragrafel's brows knitted together, wishing it were so.
"Now it is my turn to oblige their request for war," Mikhael said.
Gragrafel's black eyes followed him. The noise deafened as they moved all at once. The sky was set ablaze with the light of their passing. The prep fields now stood empty, sandy shores. In their hasty exit, the air snapped and a great breeze blew, nearly toppling trees and those who remained behind. Gragrafel stood strong in the gust, his robes, hair, and wings fluttering. It was a sight he had not seen since the Conflict, back when he was a warrior like his twins. He hoped he would not see it again. He hoped this was the last and that his grandchildren wouldn't be forced to fight such battles in the coming millennia.
Stirring from his vigil, Gragrafel walked back along the vacant platform. Other alders who came to watch the spectacle retreated back to their duties. He couldn't, as yet. His mind was overfull, missing his daughter and not quite finding solace in her children while she was gone. He walked slower than the rest and was soon left behind, a mournful, aged figure on the mall.
Reaching the end of the platform, a black figure flickered at the base of the Walhall causeway. Gragrafel lifted his heavy chin. He'd nearly forgot he had called upon his eldest. The stoic features of the young engel's face comforted him, though they were hard like stone.
"Janya—you called," Zacharius said, stepping up a small flight of stairs.
Gragrafel tried to smile at him, but it felt weak and brought tears to his eyes. He grasped his eldest son's arm.
"Yes—just in time."
Gragrafel led him back toward the mountain. His gaze went up the slopes to the pillar of light blazing at the tip. There was no tremor from on high. Gragrafel sighed. Sometimes he wished he were still a warrior. He would have pulled his fiery daughter back by her sharp little braids, then given her a sound spanking for being such a fool. Gritting his teeth, he took a seat on one of the benches that overlooked the fields. He was silent and his son patiently waited for him to say why he was summoned. He lost himself in memories of his little girl when she was only as high as his knee. He was an old svarg then, passing on to higher resonance. Had he been patient, and waited for her to grow, none of this would have happened, because he wouldn't have allowed it. An infant, even one that was a principality, had little sway.
Zacharius tucked his hands behind his back to show he was eager to continue.
"Go to him—tell him there's no time left. He must hurry if he wants to save himself. Adonai has sent his legions to wage battle with the danava."
Gragrafel came to a stop. He soaked in every detail of his eldest child. The red hair was his wife's, though hers was now long faded. A smile managed to change his expression, though Zacharius still looked quite serious. He cupped the side of Zacharius's head and ruefully smiled. The patriarch's eyes glimmered with torment. Taking his hand back, he steadied his emotions.
"Don't tell him that Mikhael will bring them back either way. None are to know that."
Zacharius regarded him a moment, then nodded. He disappeared in a few steps, carrying out the duty given him.
Gragrafel turned back to the fields. His black eyes stared at the vast vacancy. Perhaps he'd wait there until she returned. If he kept vigil, if he kept his mind on her survival, then she was sure to conquer her obstinance and fears. He decided to do so, listening to the soft song of the birds and remembering when his children were just children and didn't require the rescuing of shadowy svarg.
* * *
Maiel lifted her head from her arm. Hours passed since she had hidden in the underground treasure room. The smell of sulfur grew fainter, but wasn't entirely gone. Biting her lip, she wondered if she could finally move. She needed distance between her and the danava. The bold atrin would exhaust himself hunting every inch of the church grounds if he believed she was still there. His capability was great, perhaps greater than her own even at full capacity. How else was he able to wall her up inside his labyrinth? The memory of it made her tremble. She had to escape without him knowing or she was done.
Coaxing herself onto her feet, Maiel went to reconnoiter the passageway. She couldn't very well sit there until she faded. Sooner or later, a vratin or shade would find her. Gritting her teeth, she used the fading light of her sword to find her way back to the door. Pushing the heavy timbers back just enough, she peered through the crack. The passage beyond was clear. The dim orange light of bare bulbs made the rock look like aged ivory. She opened the door a little more and took another look, repeating the process until she was able to exit the room with something resembling confidence.
A sudden scuffing sound behind her drew her attention. The end of the passage stood empty, but panic overtook reason. She forgot the rest of the passage extending behind the door. A rat pushed along the wall, dragging a snarled knot of grass. Feeling foolish, Maiel drew her sword and pulled her shield from her back. She turned toward the archway to the main passage. With a deep and wary breath, she steadied the quaver of fear winding through her limbs. The feeling slid down her spine, threatening to send her back to the room to hide a while longer. She swore unseen eyes watched each step. Pushing the fear down, she moved forward.
At the entrance of the passage, a shadowy figure darted past her. Maiel jumped back and fell into a defensive stance. The figure reappeared; a man retracing his steps. It was Orius. He looked as startled as she.
"Thank God I found you," Orius said quietly, folding her in his arms.
Maiel lowered her sword.
"I was right," Maiel said.
Orius stepped back to see no harm had come to her. He nodded regretfully.
"My pride wouldn't let me admit I lost all ability of discernment. I'd apologize as you deserve, but that would take time and staying here is too dangerous."
"Morgentus is here," Maiel said.
"He's seen you?"
Maiel nodded.
"We must get you away from here," Orius said, distracted by his thoughts.
Taking hold of her arm, Orius led her toward the door of the labyrinth through which she'd entered. She pulled back and shook her head. The danava were up there.
"You're trembling," Orius said, surprised.
"The demon was in the seminary. He's probably waiting for me to return that way," Maiel said to him.
"We have to try." Orius assured her with a smile. She allowed him to move her toward the stairs.
"There she is. Well done, Orius," a voice called down the passage.
The pair halted. Geitz stood in the distant unlit reaches of the main passage. He sauntered toward them, wearing a twisted grin. The archbishop's entire aspect had changed. An indescribable darkness muted his eyes. Deep angry lines troubled his mouth. He looked aged beyond his already numerous years: his white hair shocked into disarray and his skin marked like a battle-scarred jinn.
Maiel, feeling betrayed, looked to Orius. He apologized, explaining he was trying to lead her out. Maiel wasn't sure she could trust him.
"I'll deliver you to him, no matter the cost. Don't fight me, messenger.
Things'll go much easier if you just come along," Geitz said to Maiel.
Orius pushed her behind him protectively.
"I can stand against him," Maiel insisted.
Orius picked up a discarded metal cross from the floor.
"Run to the basilica when I tell you, there are marditavya there, but not the demon—keep going, don't stop for anything. I will find you wherever you get to," Orius instructed her.
"Let me put him down," Maiel said, grabbing hold of his sleeve.
Orius looked through her and she knew his time had come. She felt the words frozen in her throat. Then Geitz chuckled, continuing toward them.
"How touching," Geitz prodded them.
"You've nearly returned to us. Come away with me. Don't do this now," Maiel said.
"Do let him try, my little bird. I'll enjoy bashing his head to dust with the very object he threatens me with. Where's your Christ now, sacerdos!" Geitz continued to taunt.
"Maiel, I must do this. I must save you from them," Orius said, prying her fingers from his arm.
Orius touched her face and smiled. Maiel shook her head, trying to keep the tears from falling.
"It's my time, captain. You'll see me again. I swear to it," Orius said.
"Touching." Geitz grinned.
Maiel reluctantly released him. She couldn't deny him his destiny. Stepping back, she watched him stalk toward the archbishop. A tear slipped from her eye.
Orius lifted the cross and ran at the archbishop. The men fell together, the fallen duta dwarfing the fallen human. Maiel picked along the wall, holding her sword defensively. The men wrestled, fighting for the cross. Though he looked old, the archbishop fought off Orius with inhuman strength. She hesitated. If she helped him, they could escape together.
"Run, Bethiah!" Orius growled.
Orius used all his strength to shove his adversary against the stone wall. Geitz's head bounced off the rock. The archbishop laughed, mocking his efforts to hurt him.
"We're the last of those you'll wrong in the name of your blasphemous master," Orius said, raising the cross above his head.
Geitz stared at the object with surprise. He fell to laughter.
"You think you can protect her from me—from Belial? You can't protect yourself, sacerdos," Geitz said, revealing a knife.
"Go!" Orius ordered Maiel. "I can—I will," Orius said to the archbishop.
Geitz laughed more. He moved suddenly, slicing at Orius with the blade. The fallen angel may have lost his wings, but he moved quickly and lightly, as if he still bore them. Maiel turned away, running into the shadows of the passage.
"That's right, my dove. Right into our hands." Geitz sneered.
"You've picked a fight you can't win, marditavya," Orius growled.
"I suppose you would know, fallen—miserable pretender," Geitz said, lunging at him with his last words.
Orius deflected the blade with the heavy cross. Geitz lost his hold on the weapon, reeling along the floor to snatch it back up. Orius took advantage of the man's prone position. Hoisting the iron cross above his head, he swung it toward his adversary. Geitz rolled over, brandishing the knife, and ducked to avoid the cross. He then leapt to his feet with the nimbleness of a man half his age. Grasping Orius about the neck, he pushed the man's arms down and sunk the blade into his chest. Orius dropped the heavy cross, instantly weakened by the surprise blow.
"She's not fallen. Her friends will come and you'll burn in hell for laying a hand on her," Orius growled.
"We shall see about that, eh," Geitz said, picking up the cross.
Orius froze, limbs unable to move. His eyes stared into the distance of the passage. Collapsing to his knees, he tried to pull the knife from his chest. The pain made him wince. The weapon was dug in quite deeply. Yanking hard, he freed himself of the barb and fell forward. The knife clattered on the dusty ground. Geitz stood over him, and with a wide swing, hammered his skull with the iron cross.
"No!" Maiel cried, watching him fall.
"Half's done, and so my task shall be complete in moments. Come back here, you impudent slattern," Geitz hollered.
Geitz stepped over Orius's corpse. He found Maiel in the dark of the passage. He cast the bloodied cross aside. She turned and finally ran.
"Where were we?" Geitz called out to her, his haunting voice carrying through the passage.
In the dark, it was impossible to find the exit. Every door looked like the next. At the end of the passage, she turned and faced her pursuer. He stalked toward her, half mad with the success of taking down her guardian. She looked past him to Orius laid out on the ground. This was no time to mourn his passing. He'd finally sacrificed himself and regained his passage home. He knew bringing Geitz there would result in this, but he did it with the intention of setting her free.
"I won't give in to this," Maiel whispered to herself.
"What's that, chicken? Stay right there. I'll soon end your torment, just like I did your friend," Geitz said, laughing.
Maiel spied the door they'd come through upon their arrival. Looking back at Geitz, she saw him notice the shift in her mien. She scowled hard at him, the light in her eyes pulsing brightly. The hilt of her sword even glowed stronger. Geitz bared his teeth in a slow, devious grin. The rumble of his evil laughter echoed off the walls. Drawing a deep breath, Maiel centered herself. Dashing as fast as she was able, she reached the door. Geitz screamed, displeased he had lost her. He jumped forward, running along the passage like an animal on all fours. He ran over the wall and along the ceiling, moving faster with each wheel of his arms and legs. Maiel pulled the door open and hurried into the stairwell beyond.
"You have no choice! It already owns you!" she heard Geitz call after her in an eerie voice.
Flipping the bolt, she wedged the device with the head of an arrow. The door jolted against its stone mountings. Maiel crept up the steps, holding her eyes on the lock. He'd work his way through the old bolt in short order. She didn't need to stick around to find out exactly how long that would take.