Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (72 page)

The angels
looked at each other sheepishly.

“We… don’t have
the key,” Ithuriel said reluctantly.

“Meta…” Zephon corrected
himself. “Maya had Boel lock it. He keeps keys for nearly every lock in
Medina.”

“And let me
guess,” Hoil said, rolling his eyes, “Boel is nowhere around.”

The Cherubim
shook their heads. Hoil sighed and knelt in front of the lock as he patted his
chest. A moment later, he produced a set of lockpicks and set to work. He
muttered to himself a moment, squinted into the lock, then tried a different
tool.

Finally, he
announced, “Hoil’s a genius,” and turned the handle to open the door.

Nuse and James led
the way into the room, which like nearly every room in the library was filled
with row upon row of stone bookshelves packed from floor to ceiling. The
ceiling was over thirty feet up, and James stared in sheer wonder at the sight
before him.

“This is definitely
Vander’s idea of Heaven,” Nuse said dryly. “Speaking of which, isn’t that him
over there?”

James looked and
saw an orange-cloaked man sitting with a wall of books behind him. Vander had
piled up enough books to create a makeshift desk and chair for him to sit on,
and he was hard at work scratching in a notebook with a quill pen. He dipped
the feather in a nearby ink pot and resumed writing, oblivious to their
presence.

The three
mortals walked up behind him without Vander giving any indication that he knew
they were there. James waited patiently until his friend was through writing a
sentence, then he cleared his throat. The Orange paladin started and turned in
surprise, then grinned.

“James!” he
cried out in pleasure, then immediately his spirits dampened. “Does this mean
you’re dead, as well, my friend?”

“Nothing so
unfortunate,” James said with an easy smile. “We’re here to fight this war, and
Uriel asked us to stop by and pick you up. We talked our way past those two
Cherubim, who have now agreed to give us a ride to Uriel.”

“Were they still
there?” Vander asked with evident surprise. “I told them to go away and leave
me alone a long time ago.”

James stared at
him. “Vander, you do know you’ve been held captive in here this whole time,
don’t you?”

“Really?
Whatever for?”

Nuse doubled
over laughing and even Hoil smiled in amusement. James held out for a few
seconds, then shook his head and laughed softly.

“It’s good to
have you back, Vander.”

There are records of accounts from the angels
indicating that millennia ago, dakkans could change into more than one
alternate shape. As there is no reason to doubt the immortals’ word, we must
accept this as truth, but equally true is the fact that no modern dakkan,
bonded or wild, can transform into more than one alternate beast’s shape.

- “Care and Handling of
Dakkans” (203 AM)

- 1 -

“What do you
mean
Abdiel
?” Gerard demanded.

Everyone stared
in shock at Birch, who stared with equal amazement at the gray dakkan in his
arms.

“This is the
exact spot where Abdiel died,” Birch replied, stunned. “He was the only demon
to openly defy the will of Mephistopheles and argue for peace instead of war
with the angels. Kaelus felt the same way, but Abdiel was the more vocal of the
two, and the other demons destroyed him for it.

“Uriel once told
me that when a powerful immortal dies, or when a large group dies together,
there’s something left over. He was talking about angels dying in Hell and
vice-versa, but he said nothing of someone who was technically a demon dying
here,” Birch said. “The shadow of Abdiel’s
āyus
still lingers here,
and perhaps it became a part of Selti. This is where his mother died and where
he was born, so…” he trailed off.

Marc snapped his
fingers.

“Well, it would
certainly explain his shapeshifting abilities, right?” the Orange paladin said.
“I mean, you said it all started at the end of the Barrier War when Hell slid
by. Maybe that little touch of home woke something in Selti, who is sort of the
same thing as you and Danner just on a more limited basis.”

Birch motioned
for him to continue.

“You said he’s
always been able to transform into two shapes instead of the usual one,” Marc
said, crossing his arms over his chest in thought, “so there’s been something
strange about him from the get-go. We know immortals can bond with mortals on
some level, and we know the dakkans are the product of demonic experimentation
on dragons anyway.”

“We do?” Flasch
murmured to Michael, who immediately shushed him.

“So it stands to
reason,” Marc went on, oblivious to his friend’s aside, “that some sort of
bonding is possible with beasts as well. Animals aren’t as intelligent as men,
however, nor do they have real souls… at least, I don’t think they do. Scholars
are still debating this point, which is sort of an interesting question, and
I…”

“Marc,” Garnet
barked.

“Oh, right,
sorry,” Marc said unashamedly. “Anyway, it manifests differently. We also know
that early generation dakkans could assume more than one shape, but that was
lost over time. Selti could have inadvertently become a throwback to an early
generation dakkan. Abdiel was already dead when it happened, so that might help
explain the limited effect.”

“I think he’s
making this up as he goes,” Flasch murmured to Michael.

“Actually he’s
probably right,” Michael replied in a low voice. “I know you paid attention
during our classes, but now I’m wondering just how much.”

Birch nodded at
Marc, oblivious to the other paladins’ exchange. “I have the ghost of a memory
of this. The demons possessed dragons,
[36]
much as they would with men, and were able to pass on the shapeshifting ability
without sharing their actual
āyus
as Danner and I have.”

Marc pulled out
a charcoal stick and a small booklet and began writing furiously in it,
recording the information Birch had just imparted. Without the Orange paladin
to fill the silence, the rest of them looked at Birch, who was staring at the
ground as though trying to find some other remnant of the slain demon.

Danner cleared
his throat.

“Uncle, you said
from your experience with Kaelus that Abdiel was always something of a
trickster and a rogue,” Danner said. Birch nodded, and Danner motioned toward
Selti as if to say,
Well, here you go.

Birch looked at
his dakkan speculatively, then laughed. “No wonder I’ve always had such a close
bond with this one. I had Kaelus inside me from the time I found Selti, and he
had a piece of Abdiel. Two old friends reunited without even knowing it.”

“If this gets
any more cloying, I’m going to kill all of you and vomit in your skulls,”
Gerard growled. “So your little beastie is demon-touched, too. Unless he’s
going to reveal the secrets of the universe to us, I suggest we keep moving.
You can talk with your pet on the way, if you think it’ll help.”

Selti hissed at
Gerard, who paid him no mind.

Birch nodded.
“You’re right, of course, Gerard. There’s nothing to be gained by staying
here.”

“Oh, crap.”

They all turned
toward Brican, who had a worried look on his face.

“I think there’s
a lot to be gained by us getting our asses moving,” the denarae said. “Gershvin
just reported a group of demons headed our way. They may not have seen us yet,
but they will any minute now if we don’t get moving.”

Gerard started
barking orders and within two minutes they were ready to move out. Garnet stood
next to his former mentor and peered toward where the demons would be coming.

“We can’t hide
our presence, not when they’re this close,” Garnet told Gerard. “At the very
least, we’ll leave a dust trail they can see and follow.”

“You’re telling
a fish how to swim, Garnet,” Gerard said grimly. “Gershvin said there’s only a
hundred or so of them, but we can’t afford to lose any of our already limited
numbers. Plus, with that many we’d never be able to kill them all before one
escaped to carry word of our presence.”

“They’ll carry
word of our presence anyway,” Garnet pointed out. “Immortal kything.” Gerard
grunted in affirmation as Garnet frowned in thought. “I wouldn’t be surprised
if Mephistopheles has sensed our presence but can’t pinpoint us. There are
probably bands of demons roving all over Hell to either locate us or disrupt
and harry us.”

“So we keep
moving,” the other Red replied. “Birch should be able to move us faster than
they can keep up.”

“It’s a long
shot.”

Gerard snorted.
“Garnet, this whole infiltration plan is a long shot. Were you planning on
living forever?”

“Well, sir, I
had given it some thought,” Garnet said as seriously as possible, “but that was
before I joined Shadow Company.”

Gerard laughed
appreciatively, but privately thought Garnet had spent too much time around
Flasch.

- 2 -

“They are
coming, my lord.”

Mikal nodded
grimly at the Cherub who delivered the message, then he turned to Garet.

“Iblis finally
snapped,” the Seraph said. “Are we sure we can do this?”

“The river is
right there, and it’s a sound logical basis,” the dead paladin replied. “We
already know the effects the water has on the beasts. Wings and demons, that’s
how my son and his fellows turned that flying behemoth away that day at the
lake. They carved a hole in its back and poured all their Philion-filled
canteens into the thing and let the water eat it away from the inside.”

Mikal snorted at
the thought. “A pity it wasn’t destroyed,” he said. After a moment’s
reflection, he motioned for the Red paladin to continue.

“Dem’s done his
work well,” Garet went on, “and the tests seemed to do just fine. That’s the
most we can do right now, so start praying, I guess.”

Mikal smiled
thinly at him.

“I have recently
wondered about the mortal habit of praying,” he said. “Angels do not normally
attempt to commune with God in such a way, and we would never
think
of
asking God to fulfill our individual wishes. We acknowledge His lordship over
us all and always strive to follow what we sense to be His will, but actual
communication?” Mikal shook his head.

Garet shrugged.
“I had always thought it was something passed on to us by the angels, but now
that I think of it, you’re right. I haven’t yet seen an angel pray.” He frowned
in thought. “Maybe it’s something leftover from the days before the Epiphany.
Back then, mortals didn’t have an angelic presence to confirm the existence of
the gods they believed in, so praying gave them some way to feel in touch with
the divine. Of course, these are the same people who thought that dancing
around bonfires and chanting were ways to call on the gods’ favor to change the
weather, but…” he trailed off with a smile.

Mikal hesitated,
then asked, “Do you feel it does any good? Does God listen to you, do you
think?”

“I believe God
does listen to every prayer we make,” Garet replied seriously, “and I believe
that He chooses which ones He will answer. An individual person is too absorbed
in his own life and desires to see the larger scheme of the world, and I think
some people have a purpose in life that is simply to affect someone else’s
life. There are some things we want that could potentially destroy the world if
they were granted – and there are some things we want that make no difference
to any other living thing. We’re too limited to tell the difference.”

Garet sighed.
“Others will probably tell you something different, but from my experience, I
guess when it comes down to it, prayer probably doesn’t actually do anything
but make us feel better. It’s nice to know someone out there is listening and
taking an interest, even though He may or may not act at all. If God really has
some sort of plan in mind, will asking Him for anything truly make a
difference? His plan can’t be contingent on whether one person or a thousand
people think to ask Him for something.”

He looked at
Mikal, who wondered at the depth of faith emanating from this man.

“Whatever the
historical source, I truly believe that prayer came from God,” Garet said
firmly, “but I believe He gave it to us for
our
benefit, as a way to
affect ourselves, not the world. That’s the best I’ve got to work with, and I
guess it’s always been enough for me.”

He smiled and
clapped Mikal on the shoulder.

“Enough of this
talk, though, my dear Seraph,” he said jovially, “let’s watch the fruits of our
ingenuity. There’s a battle to be fought.”

Mikal smiled at
him, as troubled as he was comforted by the mortal’s words. He led the way from
their small fortress to the angels assembled near the Philion River. Long hoses
led from the river to small boxes, which were in turn attached to nozzles. One
of the relatively few gnomes in Heaven had developed the idea of pumping water
from the river to spray on the demons, which would hopefully weaken or outright
destroy the fiends. For the past week, Mikal had been baiting the demon prince
Iblis in the hopes of drawing him toward their small fortress, which had been
outfitted with every pump Dem could craft on such short notice. The tripartite
angel and his assistants had worked nonstop to produce the pumps, and even now
one of his incarnations continued his work in case they proved useful.

When the demons
arrived, a wave of land-bound gremlins and imps led the way, speeding ahead of
a mass of damned souls. Gradually the leaders of the Hellish army had started reintroducing
the damned, realizing that whatever had happened during the fight between
Kaelus and Azazel had apparently been a one-time fluke, or at least directly
related to Kaelus’s presence. Since the demon was now back in Hell’s custody,
they had obviously decided it was safe once more.