Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (55 page)

“God would
never propose such evils.”

“Is He
capable of doing so?”

“Perhaps, but
He never would.”

“Assume, for
the sake of our discussion, that He did. Would it make the act good?”

“No.” The
word drawled reluctantly, as if dragged forcibly from his mouth, and he began
to see where the arguments would lead.

“So some
things are inherently evil then and by default some are inherently good?”

“Yes, but
your argument is useless, because God would never make such decrees,” he
asserted again.

“Why?”

“Because He
is God.”

“Insufficient.
That is a child’s answer, ‘just because’,” the Voice said derisively. “It lacks
even a basic attempt to understand.”

Grudgingly,
he answered, “Because He is good.”

“Ahhh!” the
Voice sighed with satisfaction. “Suddenly the idea of good is completely
separate from God. Good is not God, but rather ‘He is good,’ thus implying that
goodness is a separate determination, an independent moral absolute, from Him
whom you call God. So you’re saying God
can
do evil acts, but chooses
not to.”

“I said
nothing of the sort, but I can’t argue against your conclusion. It is possible,
given my limited understanding of the divine. I acknowledge I cannot truly
understand God.”

“Who can?”
the Voice asked facetiously. “To be omnipotent, one must have the ability to do
or not do as one chooses. And if God was incapable of doing anything other than
good?” the Voice asked. “If God had no choice in the matter, but was compelled
by the nature of His existence to do only that which accords to the absolute
morality of goodness?”

“Then He
could not be truly omnipotent,” he replied reluctantly, then added, “and
therefore neither could Satan. Both must be limited by their inability to act
outside their nature, both ruled by a separate moral determination of good and
evil. Absolute morality, as you say.”

“An apt
conclusion, mortal,” the Voice said. He thought perhaps that some of the mirth
had gone out of the Voice with this last observation.

“It might
also suggest the existence of a higher authority, from which spring these
governing absolutes,” he added quietly, “for something has to determine good
from evil. But what could have a higher authority or existence than God?”

The Voice
gave no answer, and he had no way of knowing if his words were ever heard.

- 2 -

Birch awoke with
his head spinning amidst a thousand half-glimpsed memories and dreams. A
hundred conversations with the Voice – a presence he now knew to be Satan –
were relived in his sleep, replaying in his subconscious as though being
scanned for some elusive thought or truth they contained. Some were scenes he
hadn’t yet remembered, so Birch reached into his pack on the floor and drew
forth a small booklet and a dwarven writing stick. He wrote down as many
thoughts and memories as he could, quoting verbatim the conversations he’d had
with the Voice.

He also wrote
down the visions and memories he’d had of various tortures. Once again, he’d
seen the image of a black tower in his dreams. It was a source of pain, the
place where most of his torture had taken place, and he had to force himself to
write down his memories of it. This was his private journal, which he kept
separately from the memoirs he was compiling of his journey in Hell.

Nearly an hour
later, he finally finished recording his thoughts. Birch returned the book and
writing stick to his pack, then quickly dressed himself. Selti was curled up in
a scaly ball at the foot of the cloudy mound Birch used as a bed. The gray
dakkan raised his head and peered curiously at his paladin.

“Time to get
moving, Selti,” Birch told him in a grim voice. “The demons are expected to
strike today, and I’ll need you with me.”

Grumbling in
protest, Selti nevertheless stretched himself out to his fullest before
slinking down the side of the cloudy bed and trotting to Birch’s side. He
glanced up inquiringly at Birch, who nodded at some unspoken communication.
Selti leapt up and settled himself on Birch’s shoulder, his tail curled
carefully around the Gray paladin’s neck for balance.

Birch slung his
pack on the other shoulder and took a quick glance to make sure he hadn’t left
anything behind, then he left the room. The corridors passed by quickly, and in
only a few minutes Birch reached the battlements, where he found Uriel standing
alone. The Seraph’s violet wings were folded neatly behind him and his arms
were crossed as he stared out at the dark stain that was drawing steadily
closer to them.

“It looks the
same as it always does,” Uriel said by way of greeting when Birch stood next to
him. “Every fortress we build, they attack in the same manner, over and over
again. We hold for three, maybe four days, then we retreat and begin the cycle
again. Today looks no different from the rest.”

The two men
stared in silence.

“Has there been
any word on my brother yet?” Birch asked. Uriel had told Birch about his
discussion with Hoil, and no one had seen Birch’s brother since. Birch’s pack
now included one of the bows used by the angels – Hoil had left the bow with a
note for Birch saying he was leaving for a while.

“An Eralim
reported seeing a lone mortal matching his description wandering the plains
well behind our lines, but that was two days ago,” Uriel said. “I sent a scout
back that way, but so far nothing. Were he an immortal or even nephilim such as
yourself, I could locate him with little difficulty, but it’s surprisingly
difficult to pinpoint a single mortal or even a group, dead or alive, unless
you already know where to look for him. Heaven is a big place,” the Seraph
added wryly.

Birch nodded. He
was concerned for Hoil, but he knew the man could take care of himself and just
wanted to be alone. No matter how he wanted to leap atop Selti and go hunt for
his brother, larger concerns had to take precedence over family love.

He paused. “What
did you call me? Nephilim?”

Uriel grimaced.
“That was the term Samyaza made up to refer to his experiments in creating
half-breeds. I haven’t thought of that word in a millennia. I don’t know what
made me recall it now.”

“It sounds
better than half-breeds,” Birch commented dryly. “It may not mean anything, but
it sounds less insulting.”

Uriel smiled
apologetically.

“There’s word from
Mikal,” the Seraph said, deliberately changing the subject. “A large force of
demons has broken away from the main body and is headed toward the trap. I’ll
have to leave with the Archangels soon, so you’ll be in charge here until I
return. Shadow Company left shortly after you went to sleep, so you’ll be
without their support, too.”

 “Do you
think it will really work?” Birch asked, expressing his skepticism. He trusted
in Gerard’s tactical genius, but there was always the possibility of error,
which they could ill afford in this war.

“They’re falling
for it, aren’t they?” Uriel replied. “I guess it just depends on who they send
and who we manage to destroy that will determine how worthwhile it all is.
We’re all but guaranteed to take a sizable chunk out of their army. If Malith
goes himself, I’ll count it a strong victory, but at the very least he’ll send
one or two of the demon lords to oversee such a mission, and any of those foul
beasts that dies is a boon to us.”

“Agreed.” Birch
paused. “When will you leave?”

“I was only
waiting for you to rouse,” the Archangel commander said. “Now that you’re here
and can assume command, I’ll take the Archangels out by means of the Mustion so
the demons won’t see or sense our leaving. We’ll be there in plenty of time,
and I’ll be back in time to craft a new fortress once you’ve left this one
behind.”

Birch grimaced,
then turned and reached a hand toward Uriel’s shoulder. He hesitated at the
last second, reluctant to touch the angel and inflict pain on them both. Uriel
reached out and clasped Birch’s outthrust hand with his own, then smiled at the
shock of pain that accompanied the gesture.

“Be careful,”
Birch said.

“Likewise, my
mortal friend,” Uriel replied with a wink. Then his face turned serious. “I
mean it, Birch. Be careful. I know you never asked to have a demon
āyus
bonded to your soul, and I fear its effects on you. Remember, you are mortal
and always have a choice in who and what you are. Hold fast to that.”

As he released
Birch’s hand, Uriel called out for his second. Camael appeared a moment later,
soaring down from a higher battlement with two other Archangels following close
behind him.

“Stretch your
wings and sharpen your sword, Camael,” Uriel said gaily, “we’ve got a trap to
close and demons to destroy.”

The stoic Power
nodded silently. Uriel waved one final time to Birch, then disappeared into the
fortress, leaving the Gray paladin alone with his turbid thoughts.

Hours later,
Birch wished desperately for the Seraph’s return to help stem the tide of anger
and despair welling up within him.

- 3 -

“So, Mikal.
Where has your betrayal led you now? You follow the demon, and every day a
little more of our beloved Heaven is taken over by the infernal horde of Hell.
Every day, more of our brethren are fed to the fires of destruction, torn to
pieces at the claws of our eternal enemies… and yet you knowingly follow one on
the path to ruin.

“How can you
think to call yourself an angel of God, acting as you do? Following the one you
have chosen?”

“Maya,” Mikal
murmured calmly. “So nice of you to contact me. We were beginning to worry
you’d done something foolish and gotten yourself destroyed. Still hiding out in
Medina?”

“I but wait
for my chance to return to my rightful place at the head of the Heavenly Hosts.
I exist as I always have and always will. Always must.”

“Must?” Mikal
laughed scornfully. “Still clinging to the delusion that you were anointed
Metatron? Have you forgotten the very words we spoke to the mortals? ‘In the
eyes of God, there exist no chosen people nor favored individual.’”

“That was
meant to placate the mortals and prevent religious genocide, fool. Would you
drag us down to their level? Of course we didn’t mean ourselves, for we
are
the chosen ones, ordained by God to shepherd the mortals and foster purity and
goodness.”

“That way leads
to despotism and betrays the trust given us by God to protect the mortals,”
Mikal said. “Less powerful they may be, but have you not noticed the gap
between our two peoples getting smaller as the ages pass?”

“Heresy.”

“You have said
that word often, as if it should mean something to me. I find it amusing that
you use the same tactic mortals have utilized for centuries, hiding a fear of
the truth behind a façade of religious dogma.” The derision in Mikal’s voice
was obvious, and he made no attempt to hide his feelings from the other Seraph.
“Brand the truth you fear as heresy, burn the heretic at the stake, and stamp
on the minds of those who might have heard, lest the seed of truth take root
and sprout anew. Listen to the truth now, Maya.

“At the dawn of
our people, what need had we for speech? We communicated perfectly in an
instant, mind to mind,
āyus
to
āyus
, and there was
perfect understanding. We had no bodies, for we didn’t need them.

“Then came the
change. We all felt it, the will of God encouraging us to take physical shape,
and what shape did we all choose? Mortals, most of us like winged humans, even
as the demons assumed more grotesque forms under their guidance from Shaitan.
We began to think in words, using a true language where none had previously
existed. Still communication by thought, but now we used words, which could
only limit us compared to the way we were before.

“We began using
tools and even built a city, emulating the weapons and structures that would
come eons later to the mortals. We became more like the living mortals,
following the pattern set down in God’s will.”

“We took
physical shape before the mortal realm existed. We built Medina before mortal
life was more than primitive creatures floating in a primordial sea. It was
they who evolved to emulate us.”

“Is your mind so
twisted?” Mikal asked, amazed. “More and more, we begin to resemble the mortals
you so deride, and they in turn draw closer to us. Eons ago, when Samyaza first
experimented with mortal-immortal hybridization, creatures such as Danner and
Birch were an impossibility. The stuff of our two kinds was too alien and
unmixable. As well try to combine angelic and demonic essence.

“But now, look
what they have become? Greater than both our peoples, if they but learn to
accept and control their power. In the Hall of the Throne, it was they who
broke free of your power first, not I and not Kaelus.”

“They are
abomination.”

“They are evolution,”
Mikal countered. “Clearly it was the will of God that we grow more alike, else
it would not have happened. More and more I begin to wonder if His goal is not
the eventual combination and coexistence of our peoples.”

“You speak
foolish and dangerous words, Mikal. How can you believe the divine God would
even follow such a path?”

Mikal laughed.
“I have faith, Maya.”

“Faith? In
what? There is no faith where there is experience.”

“Faith
is
experience,” Mikal countered.

“Faith is
trust where knowledge lacks. We came into existence and have walked daily in
the garden of God’s touch. Each of us feels the will of the divine. We are
immortals, and we have stood in the presence of God and heard His voice. We
know
.
What is there to have faith in?”