Plague of Angels (39 page)

“Don’t either of you go near her,” Nyx growled. “Hear me?”

“We aren’t,” said Ishtar, looking confused. “You’re the one who has to sacrifice her.”

I can’t sacrifice her!
Nyx backed up, making sure she was between her Angel and the other two Descended. Friends, once. Now maybe enemies.

“Nyx?” Persephone’s voice took on a new tone, curious and worried at the same time. “What’s going on?”

“When do we take her to Hell?” asked Ishtar. “The gates are open again. I can feel it.”

Nyx realized that she could feel it, too. Hell itself was pulling at her, calling to her in a way she had not felt for a thousand years. Before, she hadn’t realized how strong a pull it had, but now that she’d spent centuries without feeling it, it was impossible to ignore.

And her muscles were still healing.

“Nyx,” repeated Ishtar. “When do we take her to Hell?”

Nyx took an involuntary step backwards, and felt the cool touch of her Angel’s hand on her shoulder.

“Greetings, my Creator,” said the Angel, and in her voice Nyx could hear the tones of the heavenly choir that sang God’s praises to all of Heaven. The sound of it made her knees weak. “I am Epiphaneia.”

Almost against her will, Nyx turned. Her eyes met the eyes of her Angel, and the Angel’s mind opened to her without reservation. Without thinking, Nyx opened her own mind, and together they saw into each other’s souls. Nyx saw only beauty, warmth, hope, love, and Epiphaniea’s desire to serve her creator.

Epiphaneia saw the aeons Nyx had spent in heavenly joy. She saw how terrible the decision was to defy God and the bloody horror that was the battle for Heaven. She saw Nyx’s Descent into Hell and the agony of a thousand years in the Lake of Fire. She saw the battle for control of Hell and the cruelty that followed. She saw every evil, wicked and unwholesome thing Nyx had done on Earth and in Hell. She saw Nyx’s great love for Tribunal, her agreement with him, and all the pain and suffering that followed. She saw how she had come into being and why.

And at the end of it, when their minds separated, Epiphaneia’s eyes were bright with tears. She stepped forward, pulled Nyx into her embrace and said, “I am so, so sorry.”

Her arms were warm and gentle, and at her touch Nyx felt a sense of peace go through her that she had not felt since…

“What the fuck is going on?” said Ishtar. “We need to get that thing down to Hell before God finds out what you’ve done.”

“No,” said Nyx.

“No?” Ishtar’s face blazed with rage. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘no?’ We’ve been fighting for a thousand years for this!”

Nyx let go of Epiphaneia and turned to face the other two. “I can’t let anyone hurt her.”

Persephone looked into Nyx’s eyes, then opened her mind to Nyx’s. Nyx let her in. Persephone saw what Nyx had seen and more importantly, felt what Nyx had felt.

Persephone sighed. “Well, shit. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” yelled Ishtar. “Now we take that sniveling thing to Hell, we perform Tribunal’s ritual and we get to go to his Paradise!” She saw the resolve harden in Nyx’s face. “Fucking pig-demons, Nyx, it’s for Tribunal! Your lover! Your leader and savior and master. Remember him? Tribunal?!”

Nyx did, and with every mention of his name she felt herself pushed to obedience, moved to grab Epiphaneia and open the gates to Hell and take her down. Tribunal had told her what to do, and in her soul she could feel him, urging her to do it. She turned and looked to her Angel.

“I am yours, my Creator,” said Epiphaneia. “I will do whatever you command.”

I can’t.

“You heard her!” said Ishtar. “Command the bitch down to Hell so we can get on with it.”

“NO!” Nyx spun back, her armor covering her and her blade and whip in her hand before she completed the turn. “NO ONE WILL HURT HER, YOU HEAR ME?” She glanced over her shoulder. “No one is allowed to hurt you. No one takes you to Hell. Understand?”

Epiphaneia looked confused. “But that is my purpose, is it not? To be sacrificed so the Descended can achieve Paradise?”

Just like Tribunal?
asked a little voice in Nyx’s head.
A sacrifice for someone else’s plans?

Nyx told the voice in her head to fuck off. “Not anymore.”

“Then what am I here for?”

Nyx had no answer to that. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to Hell, and if anyone tries to take them there you stop them, understand?”

“I obey,” said Epiphaneia, and armor flowed around her body. It was not the white armor of Heaven’s Angels, nor the black armor of the descended. It was green and brown and grew around her like vines. It was patterned with leaves, from oak and maple and gingko and baobab and palm, and it hung gently on her body, covering her without either the overt sexuality of the Descended’s armor or the asexual blankness of Heaven’s. It was the armor of Earth, Nyx realized. Armor of Epiphaneia’s true world. The blade that appeared in her hand was straight and true and shone like steel, though Nyx knew it was something far more powerful. “I am ready.”

“You think that will help if Michael comes down?” demanded Ishtar. “You couldn’t even stop me!”

“Yes,” said Epiphaneia. “I can.”

Ishtar’s own armor flowed around her in an instant and her sword leapt into her hand.

“NO!” shouted Nyx. “I forbid it!”

“You forbid…” Ishtar screamed in rage and punched the wall, smashing the plaster beneath her fists and sending cracks up the height of the wall. “You’re killing us all!”

Before Nyx could answer, the ground beneath them rumbled, then screamed, and the air filled with a brimstone stench that could only come from one thing.

Ishtar, despite her rage, instinctively backed up until she was beside Nyx. Persephone did the same as her own armor flowed around her. “Hell’s open,” she said.

“I know,” said Nyx, and because she was Queen of Hell, she felt the first of the Angels crawl their way out of Hell. Unlike Nyx, these Angels were not injured or tired. These Angels were fresh and battle ready. And there were hundreds of them. Then Nyx sensed one who was far too familiar. “Lucifer is leading them.”

“They’re coming for us,” said Ishtar. “Fuck, Nyx, they’re coming for us!”

“No,” said Epiphaneia. “They’re coming for me.”

“Get in the air,” said Nyx, “Before…”

The roof of the temple blew into pieces, and Lucifer’s legion descended on them with the falling rocks.

“Fly!” screamed Nyx, launching herself into the air.

It had been a long time since Nyx had fought an Angel, let alone an army of them. Her stomach muscles still screamed with every action, and she knew she wasn’t anywhere near her full strength.

I am the Queen of Hell,
she thought,
and I’ll burn in the Lake before I let that bastard win!

She parried the first Angel’s blade and with a clean swipe, cut him in half.

The Angel screamed and fell to Earth, his body desperately trying to regenerate. Nyx was surprised enough by it that she nearly missed her next block.
I must have absorbed the power from Tribunal,
she thought as she lashed out at the second Angel. That Angel had the good sense to dodge, but was stupid enough to try again and Nyx spitted him through the heart. He exploded in a rush of silver dust and Nyx inhaled his power, even as her whip cracked out to slash the wings off another Angel. A dozen others surrounded her, hacking with their blades and lashing with their whips. And from above, more Angels were coming.

Persephone and Ishtar fought side by side, slicing through limbs and cutting into flesh with their swords as their whips ripped open faces and tore feathers from the wings of the Angels. Sheer weight of numbers was forcing them back down towards the ground. Persephone opened her mind to Ishtar, sending, “Follow me!” but Ishtar’s mind stayed closed to her. Persephone screamed, “FUCK!” at the top of her voice, then dove down, away from her opponents, through the temple door and out into the freedom of the sky beyond.

Epiphaneia whirled in the air, her green armor glowing like an emerald in a sea of blood and oil. She had no whip, but her blade moved as fast as any of the Angels, and she fought with a calm, deadly ferocity. Her blade cleaved through the armor of the Angels almost as easily as Nyx’s did. The Angels tried to keep their distance, flicking at her with whips, but more and more Angels were pouring into the temple, and their numbers kept pushing the others downward.

“We have to get out!” Nyx screamed, switching to wide swings of her blade that scythed through the Angels near her in a rain of blood, guts, feathers and ichor. “Follow me up! Fight your way up!”

“Tell that to that traitorous bitch!” screamed Ishtar. “She flew out the door!”

Probably smart of her, Nyx thought. She won’t desert us, though. Not Persephone.

As if her thoughts were a prophecy, she heard Persephone’s battle-scream from above. A boulder slammed down through the ranks of the Angels above, breaking black-feathered wings and bouncing off backs and skulls. Nyx used the space it created to surge upward. Epiphaneia fought towards her, her blade creating its own rain of ichor and guts. Ishtar broke free a moment later and managed to join the other two. Another boulder rained down and for a moment Nyx had a glimpse of Persephone, her blade and whip flailing. Then a pack of Angels slammed into her, driving her out of sight. Nyx screamed and hacked harder at the Angels around them, trying to force a path clear.

Still the Angels poured down from above.

Ishtar missed one cut and an Angel slammed into her, knocking her off-kilter. A second Angel, then a third and a fourth slammed into her, smashing her downward. Nyx knew she couldn’t afford to stop flying upward, knew that Epiphaneia’s safety was entirely dependent on them breaking free from Lucifer’s legion of Angels. She hacked and slashed, her sword a blur even to Angel eyes as she fought her way up. Limbs, torsos and heads all flew apart under the strength of her sword. The Angels’ armor, usually enough to stop all but the most powerful attack, parted like water before her blade.

Lucifer bellowed something above her, and a rock as wide as the temple ceiling crashed down on all of them.

There was no escape for any of the Angels in the temple. A hundred Descended Angels smashed downward under several thousand tons of rock while above, Lucifer and the five hundred Angels he’d used to move the boulder watched in glee. The shock of the boulder hitting the ground ruptured the walls of the temple and it split open, shooting bits of Angels everywhere as some of their bodies exploded beneath the weight of their burden.

At the bottom of the pile of bodies, Nyx and Epiphaneia lay side by side, their flesh and bones crushed by the boulder and the many bodies piled above them. The pressure was immense, and Nyx could hear Epiphaneia’s screams before the weight on them crushed the air from both of them.

Hours passed. The pain was even more intense than giving birth had been. Every bone in Nyx’s body was being crushed. Her skull was being compressed to the point she could feel it reshaping itself, and cracking along the seams. Clawing with her fingers she tried to dig into the earth under her, trying to clear some space – any space at all – if it meant she could escape the pain.

Above her, she heard hammering.

She was still conscious, still struggling to find space when the pile of rock above her shifted. She heard a scream, then another. Someone was pulling bodies from the rock, tearing some of the Angels apart as they freed them. The smell of brimstone was harsher now.

An hour later her head began to reform itself as more rock was pulled away and more Angels pulled from the pile. Epiphaneia was able to draw breath again, and was wailing with pain. Nyx scrabbled her fingers towards her Angel, and eventually managed to touch the other Angel’s arm through the debris.

Another hour passed. More weight lifted. More screams of pain from above, and Epiphaneia’s whimpering beside her. Nyx found herself crying, not from her own pain, which was nothing new, but from hearing her Angel’s pain. This was an agony she’d never experienced before and the immensity of it was beyond her comprehension. But understanding or not didn’t matter: she had to help her Angel. She had to protect her Angel. That, above all. But she could to do nothing.

The weight shifted again, threatening to once more crush Nyx’s skull. She reached out further with her fingers and tried to wrap them around Epiphaneia’s arm as the other Angel’s wails turned into screams.

“Got her!” someone shouted, and Epiphaneia was yanked away from Nyx’s questing fingers. Nyx heard Lucifer roaring something, then the pressure on her and the screaming around her got worse and all Nyx could think about was the pain. Then came blackness.

It was dark when Persephone came back to consciousness. She could hear screaming from somewhere nearby, but couldn’t say where.

We must have failed,
she thought.
Good fight, though.

She had killed six, she remembered. She’d gutted and chopped the limbs of a dozen more, but those would heal or grow back so they didn’t count.

She’d been stabbed a dozen times, cut a dozen more, before she’d finally been spitted through the spine. She’d managed to kill that one, Persephone remembered, and had healed enough to fly erratically away from the temple. Two dozen of them had pursued her, hacking and slicing into her flesh, cutting off her whip arm and sword hand, hacking one of her legs nearly off and finally taking her wings. She’d fallen to Earth, then, and they’d followed, stabbing her a hundred times as she lay there.