Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (36 page)

They stared at
each other silently for a moment.

“Well,” Flasch
said at last, “we’re going to Medina now, aren’t we?”

Garnet nodded.

“So we confront
her,” Flasch said. “We’ve got you and Mikal, and we’ve got Danner and Birch, or
Kaelus, I guess. Well, both, really, since Birch has that demon
āyus
,
too.”

“He
what
?”
Uriel exclaimed.

“Schneik,”
Flasch muttered.

Garnet glared at
Flasch, but turned to Uriel and explained. “During the Barrier War, Birch was
fatally wounded and may have even crossed the point of death. Kaelus gave him a
sliver of his
āyus
, which bonded to Birch and brought him back. Now
Birch has the essence of a demon as a part of him, much the way that Danner has
an angelic
āyus
.”

“I was told
about you,” Uriel said, looking at Danner, “but Kaelus seems to have left out a
few rather important details. If you’ll excuse me, I may need to saw down that
demon’s horns before they get too big for his head.”

They all stared
at him a moment, then Michael and Flasch both laughed aloud.

Uriel spread his
wings and leapt into the air. They saw him soaring above the camp, peering
about in search of Birch and the demon housed within him.

“I didn’t think
angels knew how to joke,” Marc said in amazement.

Danner cleared
his throat.

“Oh, not you,
Danner,” Marc said, “but you know what I mean. Mikal’s about as funny as a
stick in the mud. Kaelus doesn’t have a whole lot of personality either, for
all that they’re both nice enough.”

“You have to
admit,” Michael said, “our first-hand experience with
real
immortals is
rather limited.”

Danner looked
insulted.

“Oh, sorry,
Danner, you know what I meant.”

“Enough,” Garnet
said shortly. “Look, I don’t care if immortals are a laugh a minute or duller
than spots on cows. Uriel brought up a very important point, and it raised a
couple hard questions. We’ve always thought we’d be coming here as welcome
warriors, appreciated and even thanked for our sacrifice and presence. But if
the blessed dead are being treated as second-class around here, where does that
leave us? If the dead are being influenced to be nice and pleasant, how is that
going to affect us?”

Garnet looked
significantly at Marc, who frowned in thought and shrugged.

“Here’s how we
do this,” Garnet said. “We keep an eye on each other, watching for changes in
behavior or signs of… undue pleasantness,” Garnet said with a wry twist of his
mouth. “Shadow Company watches everyone. We watch our companies, and we watch
each other. Anyone starts stopping to smile and watch the pretty sky, clout him
over the head and start an argument or something. Understood? Agreed?”

“Yes sir,” they
said in quiet chorus.

“You know,”
Brican said dryly, “this trip just keeps getting better and better. When this
whole war is over, I may just have to slit my wrists and come back for a little
vacation.”

“We must have their numbers, and so they must die. And
yet suicide is a mortal sin, and being thus refused they would war on the side
of our enemies. No, it is terrible, but we must have their strength. We must
kill them for the greater good. It is necessary.”

       
- Maya
(recounted by Mikal),

“Collected Accounts from the Pandemonium War”

- 1 -

Two days later,
the expedition reached the city of Medina, jewel of the angels, beautiful
wonder of the immortal plane, and the lone city in Heaven.

Crystal spires
soared toward the clouds overhead, and the tallest towers were lost from sight
as they pierced the omnipresent cloud cover. The outer walls of most buildings
were built from shimmering white angelstone, while other buildings were
constructed solely of the iridescent crystal seen across the heavenly
landscape. No building was less than ten stories, and most were at least
thirty. Balconies and upper-story doorways were common in a city designed for
angels, while bridges and upper-level walkways were primarily for decoration.
The city was laid out in seven empyreans,
[19]
all radiating out from the center, where
lay the Hall of the Throne.

As they neared
the city, Garnet ordered the bulk of his forces to remain outside the city
limits and get some much-needed rest. There had been little time for sleep, as
those who led the expedition felt the pressure of urgency slowly looming
larger. Now, however, they could take the time to rest, although they still
posted regular sentries and deployed their camp for maximum defense without
actually digging in.

Garnet took a
jintaal
from the paladins – headed by his father, of course – and the officers from
Shadow company, as well as Birch and the two Seraphim who accompanied them.
Trames and Kala went as well – Garnet claimed he wanted to keep an eye on the
slippery old man and wasn’t to the point of chaining him up – as did Gerard and
Trebor, who spent most of their time pointing out the beautiful marvels of
Medina to anyone who bothered to listen to them. Siran joined them as well,
accompanied by a dozen of his Elan’Vital warriors. The elves disappeared into
the city ahead of the rest of them, and only occasional glimpses of the fleet
warriors could be seen as they slipped from building to building.

The city was
laid out in an orderly fashion, with beautiful fountains and crystalline parks visible
down streets that intersected the main road on which they traveled. The
buildings soared high on every side, surrounding them with breathtaking beauty.

Birch hated it.

The streets were
too narrow, because angels had no need of wide avenues to accommodate large
numbers of land-bound transports. There were no carts, no dwarven buggies, no
beasts of burden to worry about, so the streets were wide enough for an angel
or two to fly through comfortably without worrying about brushing wings against
the buildings to either side. Because they could fly, angels built upwards,
creating towering walls that – to Birch’s mind – threatened to crash down and
crush all of them beneath tons of beautiful stone and crystal.

Still, despite
his discomfort, there was something hauntingly familiar about the city…. no,
about Heaven itself as a whole. It struggled and wormed at the back of his
mind, trying to place the feeling of recognition. He knew it was something from
his own experience, not borrowed from Kaelus, but still the source of the
feeling eluded him.

The flames in
Birch’s eyes danced as he struggled with the evasive feeling.

Despite its
beauty, the city seemed completely deserted. No doubt every angel and mortal
soul was elsewhere in Heaven, fighting the scourge of Hell’s armies. It gave
the city a lonesome quality, like the husk of some mighty creature that now lay
dead, leaving only the empty cavity of its bones behind.

Nearby, Danner
and Flasch rode by in their buggy with Marc and Guilian in the back seat. Keeping
his eyes on the road, Danner leaned close to Flasch and said, “So how’re things
going with you and Garnet’s sister?”

“W..What?”
Flasch asked, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on,
Flasch,” Marc said good-naturedly from behind them, “we’ve all seen how you
look at her.”

“If you don’t
know you’re interested, then you’re probably the only one,” Guilian chimed in.

“You’re one to
talk, Guilian,” Flasch retorted, then abruptly snapped his mouth shut.

“What’s this?”
Marc asked.

“Nothing,”
Guilian said apprehensively.

“Does this have
anything to do with you and that human woman?” Danner asked.

“What?” Marc
exclaimed, then looked around to see if anyone noticed his sudden outburst. He
said more quietly, “What are you talking about?”

Guilian stared stupidly
at Danner. “How… how did you know?”

Flasch smiled
wryly. “Guilian, you’ve only been spending time with her for the last two and a
half months, at least since I’ve noticed it. She’s the only person we ever see
you around besides us, and twice I’ve caught her sneaking out of your room at
some truly horrendous hours of the morning.”

Danner glanced
up and looked at Guilian in a mirror set on his dashboard.

“I saw you head
off in her general direction one night before we crossed the Binding,” Danner
said. “Took me a bit by surprise.”

“You both knew?”
Guilian asked, stunned.

 Danner
shrugged. “I think more people know that you might think, Guilian.”

“Guilian, with a
human woman?” Marc wondered.

“Which
apparently doesn’t include Marc,” Flasch added impudently.

Guilian shook
his head in wonder and chagrin.

“We didn’t want
anyone to know,” he said. “We weren’t sure how people were going to react. Then
I met Kala and saw how people accepted her, and I started to wonder, but…
Still, I was afraid to tell anyone.”

“After our
history with Shadow Company, you were afraid to tell us?” Flasch asked. “I’m
almost insulted.”

“It wasn’t you
all so much as my family and the other denarae, like Brican,” Guilian admitted.
“We all know feelings run both ways about our two races, and we weren’t sure if
people would accept us being together. Sirla and I just thought we’d keep it a
secret as long as we could and hope we found a good time to tell everyone
before someone found out anyway.”

Marc laughed.

“Then you’re an idiot,
Guilian,” Marc said. “You live in a community of mind-readers, and you expect
to keep a secret? I know denarae can block their thoughts, and Brican even
commented on your doing just that, but all that does is make people curious.
I’ll admit, I had no idea, but if you think there aren’t plenty of men in the
company who already know, then… well, I think I already pointed out you’re an
idiot.”

“And I imagine,”
Flasch added, “that if any of them were offended, they would have already
confronted you about it. Given how chummy Brican and Kala are, I’d be willing
to bet even he won’t have a problem with it once the initial shock wears off.
That’s assuming he doesn’t already know, too.”

Danner nodded in
affirmation.

“You really
think so?” Guilian asked.

“We’re your
friends, Guilian,” Marc said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Trust us.”

Guilian smiled
in relief, then glanced down as Flasch turned around, and he eyed the Violet
paladin with a suspicious eye. Guilian leaned over to Marc and murmured,
“Notice how Flasch neatly avoided Danner’s question?”

“I saw that,
yeah,” Marc agreed. “Should we call him on it?”

Guilian shook
his head. “Let him think he’s gotten away with it for now. We’ll pounce later.”

Marc chuckled.

“You know,
Guilian, I like you a lot better when you’re not all frozen and stiff,” Marc
said. Guilian glowered at him, but Marc just winked and both men burst out
laughing.

- 2 -

Uriel entered
the Hall of the Throne last, and he reduced his height slightly and covered
himself in a thick robe borrowed from one of the larger human paladins. With
the presence of so many immortals and half-breeds, he hoped Maya wouldn’t
notice his presence right away. If he could remain unnoticed, he might be able
to use his power more effectively, if only to distract Maya at some key moment.

“Make no
mistake,” Uriel had told the mortals earlier, “in this room above all other
places in Heaven, her power will reign supreme. If we are to break her hold, it
will not be through brute force.”

The Hall loomed
about them like the inside of some titanic monster, and they all were swallowed
whole to feed its greedy belly. Uriel remembered such mammoths in the mortal
realm, sea beasts that could have eaten a dragon in only a few mouthfuls.
Thankfully they had all died out millennia before man had evolved, leaving no
trace beyond a few fossilized bones buried beneath the deepest depths of the
oceans.

Pillars of
swirling color soared to the ceiling far above, and numerous statues of angels
in various poses of glory and beauty were artistically arranged throughout the
Hall. The floor was made of perfectly smooth crystal, which allowed Uriel to
see through to a cavern of shining crystals directly beneath them. Eons ago,
Gabriel, ever the romantic poet, had compared it to walking on a sea of glass.

Three pairs of
fountains were spaced across the length of the Hall, each pair flowing with one
of the three waters of Heaven. The Mustion, river of music and joy. The
Alethion, river of truth and light. The Philion, river of love and healing.

The waters of
the Mustion were all but invisible, but a stream of soul-easing music poured
forth from the fountain, winding about the mortals and disarming them with
feelings of happiness and contentment. The Alethion poured out as a stream of
golden light but made no sound as it bubbled down the marble contours of the
fountains. The Philion alone resembled water such as the mortals thought of it,
and there was nothing a non-immortal could physically perceive about it to
distinguish the Philion from crystal-clear water from the mortal world.

Uriel felt Mikal
extending his power to shield the mortals from the inconvenient effects of the
three rivers. He doubted Kaelus could – or rather
would
– do anything at
this time to help, and Uriel certainly dared not lend his support to Mikal,
lest he reveal himself prematurely. Fortunately, the Seraph had apparently
benefited from his brief time in the mortal realm – Mikal seemed stronger and
surer of himself than ever before. Prior to his departure, Mikal had been slightly
less powerful than Uriel. Now, however, it seemed the tables had turned, and
Uriel found himself yielding to his old friend. What had happened on the mortal
world to so empower him?