The Rise of the Fallen (The Angelic Wars Book 2) (36 page)

Sariel nodded at the judge
and faded back into Chris' mind.

Keep it close from now
on, Chris,
he said silently.
I
am very pleased by this but we cannot let the sword out of our sight.

Got it,
Chris replied and he felt Sariel withdraw.

The judge seemed to know
that Chris was himself again and motioned him back to the chairs.
When they were seated again, Chris held the sword across his knees,
occasionally stroking the blade gently. It seemed to quiver each time
he touched it, like a happy pet that had been reunited with its lost
owner.

“
Sir,” Chris
said as a thought occurred to him. “Sariel said he wants me to
keep the sword with me from now on.” At the judge's questioning
look, Chris held up the weapon.

“
Well, I mean it's a
sword. It may not be whole but it's still two feet of a weapon. Not
only will it be kind of obvious if I just walk around with it, but
I'll probably end up taking off a few fingers accidentally if I'm
constantly hanging on to the thing.”

“
Oh, I see,”
the judge said with a smile. “Not to worry. I think we can find
a way to allow you to keep the sword discretely with you. Let me give
it some thought.”

“
For now,” the
judge got up, rummaged in a nearby cabinet and pulled out a length of
canvas, “Wrap it in this until you get back to your quarters.
At least it won't be so obvious, or so dangerous, when you carry it
back with you.”

“
Thanks, sir,”
Chris said with relief. He took the piece of canvas, which smelled a
bit musty, and wrapped it gingerly around the weapon. He made sure
that it wasn't wrapped too tightly. The resulting bundle could have
been anything.

“
Well, that's all
the news for now,” Judge Hawkes said as he led Chris out of the
vault and closed the door behind them. Chris heard a heavy bolt slam
into place. “We haven't had any communication from Ghost yet,
but I think we will within a day or two.” He fixed Chris with a
serious look. “Try and be ready. Remember, we may only get one
shot at this diversion and Sariel has to be prepared to bring back
Jacob and Tyler when it happens.”

“
He'll be ready,
sir,” Chris told him firmly. “We both will.”

“
Excellent. Can you
find your way back on your own? Good. Then we'll see each other
later.”

Chris thanked the judge
yet again and then headed back to his rooms, the canvas-wrapped sword
tucked firmly under one arm.

Safely back in his sitting
room, Chris sat down on the couch and unwrapped the sword. He set the
canvas aside and put the weapon on the coffee table, then sat back
and looked it over slowly.

The sword that had almost
killed Satan, he thought, and shivered. The lights in the room
glinted from the edges of the blade, edges that seemed to promise
blood and death. The hilt, its gold and silver enhancing the cold
silver metal of the blade, gleamed gently. Chris' hand twitched
whenever he looked at it, as if wanting desperately to hold it, swing
it, use it on an enemy. In fact, he caught himself reaching for the
sword several times without thinking, before stopping himself and
sitting back again.

This thing is calling to
me, he thought as he stared at it. It was starting to make him
nervous. It
wants
me to use it. But it's just a hunk of metal. Old metal, maybe even
cursed metal, but still, it was a thing, not a person. It couldn't be
tempting him. Could it?

Finally,
Chris re-wrapped the sword in the canvas and, imagining that he felt
a surge of resentment from the weapon, put it in the bureau in his
bedroom. Out of sight, out of mind, he thought hopefully, if not very
convincingly.

He
turned on the TV and tried channel-surfing. He loved British
television now, and found a detective story that looked interesting,
but he couldn't keep his mind on the show.

Chris
tried channel after channel but his mind kept returning to that
damned sword. He imagined himself leading a group of angels, sword
held high against an army of undead and Fallen. At one point, Chris
actually found himself on his feet, walking toward his bedroom,
intent on grabbing the sword. To do what? That thought stopped him.

After
an hour of this, he decided to get out of his rooms entirely. Even
though Sariel had told him to take the sword wherever he went, Chris
had no intention of doing so. He grabbed his phone, locked his room
carefully behind him and headed downstairs. He had decided that a
walk around the grounds might clear his head. At least it would put
some distance between him and the sword.

The garden was empty even
of the other teens or staff members, and Chris wandered around in a
haphazard fashion, his mind empty of anything but random thoughts. He
did succeed in forgetting about the sword finally, and decided that
it was proximity to the blade itself that had been causing the weird
nervousness and strange ideas that he had been thinking back in his
rooms.

That presented him with a
problem, though. How was he supposed to keep the sword close to
himself the way that Sariel wanted if it was going to basically make
him crazy? He had no idea.

Chris found a small
building on the edge of the estate, not far from a large, fenced-in
field, that turned out to be a stable. When he pushed the wooden door
open with a loud creak, the faint smell of old horse manure met his
nostrils and he smiled suddenly. Chris loved horses, He had ridden
several times when he was very young with his parents and the
memories of bright, laughing days were mingled with the recalled
warmth of the animal's back and the smell of the horse.

He poked around the
building, discovering several saddles hanging on pegs and cupboards
filled with brushes, bridles and horse blankets sealed in clear
plastic. In the area where horses had once been kept, the cement
floor and large stalls were swept clean and in good repair. The place
hadn't been used in a long time, but it looked like it was just
waiting for someone to lead in some horses to be functional again.
Chris made a mental note to ask the judge why horses were no longer
part of the lifestyle at Valiant. He felt saddened that they had
decided that the wonderful animals were no longer of any use there.

Back outside, Chris
wandered to the edge of the field, climbed the neatly build wooden
fence and sat on the top cross-beam. He gazed out over the waving
grass and imagined children riding ponies and squealing with laughter
as their parents walked beside them, leading them safely around. He
grinned at the thought.

A quick glance skyward
told him that it was well past mid-day. Missed lunch again, he
thought with little concern. He had no appetite at the moment anyway.
The wind lifted his hair and whirled it around his face, smelling of
high summer; grass, flowers and the deep rich dirt of the field. He
inhaled deeply.

“
Well, well. Fancy
meeting you here,” a voice said merrily. Chris almost fell off
the fence.

He looked quickly over his
shoulder in time to see Judge Hawkes, wearing casual slacks and a
short-sleeved, open-neck shirt, arrive at the fence. He climbed up
nimbly and sat down a few feet away.

Chris watched him with
wide eyes. The judge looked relaxed and totally unlike the serious,
business-like figure he normally portrayed.

“
Oh, hi sir,”
Chris managed to say, trying to hide his surprise. Something in the
man's twinkling eyes told the teen that he wasn't fooling the judge
at all.

“
You've discovered
one of my favorite spots on the grounds, Christopher,” the
judge said as he stared out over the field. “I can remember
summer days when we visited here, my father and I, and rode horses
with my uncle, the previous Lord Hawkes.”

He took in a great breath
and let it out slowly, a smile playing across his lips.

“
There were horses
here when you were a kid, sir?” Chris asked.

“
Oh yes. It's a
shame that the former head of Valiant, the unlamented Mr. Mahony,
decided that keeping horses was a waste of resources. I suspect that
since the budget did not decrease after their removal, that he
pocketed that extra bit of cash.” He shook his head ruefully.
“How I missed that, on top of everything else...”

“
You're a busy man,
sir,” Chris said stoutly. “I'm sure you had other things
to worry about.”

“
Thank you for that.
But I was careless and it is inexcusable.”

The judge looked over his
shoulder at the lonely stable and then back at the field.

“
I think, when
things stabilize a bit, that we'll reintroduce horses to Valiant. The
tourists will love them. So will I, come to think of it. Yes, that
would be grand.”

Chris was cheered up
immediately by this assertion and mentioned his own love of horses.
The judge's eyes lit up.

“
It's wonderful that
you share that with me, my boy. All the more reason to bring them
back then. But that's a project for the future, I'm afraid. For now,
we have to deal with an entirely different reality.”

Both of them fell silent
and sat companionably side by side, enjoying the day and their
separate memories. Years later, Chris would remember this remarkably
short interlude with great fondness. Neither he nor the judge spoke
but he felt a warmth and affection for this amazing man that went
beyond words or gestures. He was, for the first time in a long time,
simply at peace.

How long Chris and Judge
Hawkes sat together, unspeaking but content, was impossible to tell.
But eventually the silence was broken by the shrill peal of the
judge's phone.

He slipped off of the
fence and pulled the cell from a side pocket.

“
Yes?” he
asked as he answered it. Chris watched anxiously. These days, all
phone calls to the judge were probably important, he thought.

“
I see. When?”
Judge Hawkes looked at his watch. He was one of the few men that
Chris knew who actually still wore one.

“
Very well. We'll be
ready.” The judge flicked a quick glance at Chris. “Are
you sure of the time? Yes, fine. Do not deviate by so much as a
minute, or we will have wasted the opportunity. Yes, of course I know
you are efficient.” He smiled a bit. “Why do you think I
keep you employed?” He waited and nodded unconsciously. “You
be careful as well. Leave when you are done. I want you back here and
in one piece, understood? Fine.”

He clicked off the phone
and put it away.

“
Come along, young
man,” he said to Chris. “As Holmes would say, the game is
afoot.”

Chris jumped off of the
fence and hurried to catch up to the judge, who was walking back
toward Valiant with long strides.

“
What's happening,
sir?” he asked a bit breathlessly as he caught up. He thought
he knew, and when the judge answered him, Chris found that he was
correct.

“
That was Ghost.
He's ready for the attack. He's timed it so that it will occur at
midnight, our time. As I'm sure you heard, we must get this
synchronized absolutely perfectly so that his attack attracts the
Fallen's attention precisely at the time that Sariel attempts to
bring back our two young friends.”

The judge fell silent and
continued his steady pace while Chris followed, a surge of excitement
shooting through him.

We're getting Jake and Ty
back, he thought happily. Then he tried to stifle that emotion. We
may
be getting them back. Sariel agreed to try. He didn't guarantee
success. But it was hard for Chris to keep his elation under control
and he realized with some surprise just how much he had come to care
for those two. We may need them back, he thought. But I
want
them back.

“
Sir,” Chris
said as they rounded the corner of the castle and made their way
toward the front door. “Where is Ghost going to make his move?
I mean, which safe-house?”

He realized as he asked
that he had never actually been told where the other houses were.

“
Moscow,” the
judge answered shortly. He nodded to the two staff members standing
outside the entrance as one of them hurried to open the door for him
and Chris.

“
Moscow?”
Chris repeated incredulously. They were walking quickly down the main
hallway. “In Russia?”

Judge Hawkes gave him a
quick, amused look.

“
That is generally
where Moscow is found, yes.”

They entered the main
foyer and the judge walked across to the front desk. The two young
women seated there looked up at him in surprise. One of them actually
jumped to her feet.

“
Your lordship!”
she exclaimed. “Good afternoon. What can we do for you?”

“
Good afternoon. I
wonder if you would contact all of the Angelics and ask them to
assemble in my office as soon as they can.”

“
Yes m'lord, of
course,” the blond woman who remained seated answered at once.