Authors: Nic Widhalm
“Morning Star?”
“Lucifer. Satan. You know.”
“But I thought—”
Valdis held up a finger. The digit was quivering with excitement. He had been waiting
years
to share his discoveries with another person, and now that the time had come, the priest was about to burst from holding back the big reveal.
“I know,” Valdis said. “So did I, at first. But this passage says the war was between two groups of angels called the
Adonai
and the
Elohim
.” Hunter flinched as Valdis said this last part. The priest barely noticed. “What’s interesting is there doesn’t seem to be anything differing them. On a biological level, that is.” Valdis grinned, “As much as angels can be considered ‘biological,’ right?”
Hunter didn’t respond.
“At any rate, there was a rather large
disagreement
that kicked the whole thing off. The author isn’t clear about what, though that might be in a passage I have yet to decipher. That’s what I was saying about the chronological bit. But regardless, the war has continued to the present. Right now, as we speak, they rage in the heavens.”
“That’s what they said,” Hunter whispered, staring at the script.
Valdis, still a little spooked from Hunter’s earlier outburst, timidly asked, “These people who took you, who—”
“The war, Father?”
“Right, sorry. Well, the…uh…disagreement turned into a full on battle, gaining supporters until the entire chorus had taken up with one side or the other. Now, here’s where it gets interesting: Lucifer, the last of the three Seraphim, the only angel who hadn’t attached himself to either group, looked at all these angels picking sides and got to thinking.” Valdis moved further down the wall, shining his feeble light further down the rough, gray wall.
“Here,” Valdis pointed at another section, “it tells about Lucifer—”
“Wait,” Hunter interrupted. “I thought you said he wasn’t involved?”
“No, no,” Valdis waved dismissively. “Silly boy, that’s not what I said. I said he didn’t
start
it. Or, at least, he wasn’t involved in the beginning. No, where Lucifer comes in is after all these angels are caught in the conflict, and the Morning Star decides he would like a piece of the pie. Or, in his case, the entire thing. But instead of trying to get
another
faction of angels to fight for him, he looks to humans.”
“So how long ago are we talking here?” Hunter asked.
“Oh, several million years at least,” Valdis replied. “Before written records. Probably before there were proper
Homo sapiens
. I’m not an anthropologist.” He raised an eyebrow. “You mind if I continue?”
Hunter held up his hands. “By all means.”
“As I was saying, around this time Lucifer starts to convince humans it would be in their best interests to join with him.” Valdis’ voice began to rise, and he had to force himself to calm down before he started talking too quickly. It was hard to do; he always got excited during this part. “He spends years tutoring the fragile creatures in the methods of angelic war, and—here’s the important part—he
arms
them.”
“I’m guessing we’re not talking assault rifles.”
Valdis chuckled. “You guess right, my friend. The text mentions a ‘flaming sword’ several times, which, I can only assume, was the weapon of choice for the celestial chorus. However, at this point the writing gets a bit—cloudy,” the priest brought the light to a section of wall more worn and pitted than the others. “The ravages of time and water, I’m afraid. If I had come sooner I could have preserved it, but now—” Valdis shook his head sadly.
“So what happened?” Hunter asked. “Did Lucifer win?”
“Hardly. This part here,” Valdis moved down the wall. “Says the truce was broken once they stopped the ‘invading force.’ The war began anew, with
Adonai
and
Elohim
on either side, and the casualties finding their way to Earth over the encompassing years.” Valdis reached the end of the script, near their original entrance.
“So, you believe all this?” Hunter peered through the murky light at the tangled script. “All this stuff about angels and war, and—what did you call them?“
“
Adonai
and
Elohim
. And, yes, to answer your question, I do. I’ve spent too much time down here, too many years putting together this rough sketch that I’ve shown you. Too many things that don’t add up.”
“I don’t know,” Hunter shook his head. “The whole thing sounds crazy.”
Valdis eyed the large man. This was the crucial part. Would the boy run, or was his curiosity strong enough? The priest nodded, almost imperceptibly, and looked at the last pit of crumbled text. “Would you like to know what made me sure beyond a doubt?”
Hunter nodded.
“
You
, Hunter. Your arrival yesterday finally convinced me that every bit of text I’ve deciphered is true.”
“Me?” Hunter frowned.
Valdis pointed to one of the small symbols in the last line on the wall. “This is the same mark on your shoulder. I haven’t found the exact meaning yet; it’s a strange mix between the mark of the Grigori and something else. Something I’ve never seen.”
“But, you said this writing’s been here for hundreds of years?”
Valdis smiled. “Exactly. I’ve yet to translate this part—too many variables so far—but, Hunter…I think this next bit is all about
you
.
”
CHAPTER TEN
“Riese, you done with that report?” Jackie’s boss hollered across the station. She turned, her hands paused over her keyboard, and yelled, “Just a few more hours, Captain. Promise.”
“That’s what you said three hours ago.” Captain Christopher Stohl marched from his office, across the crowded floor and leaned his balled fists onto Jackie’s table. “Please,” he said quietly. “Tell me you’re not working on the Friskin case?”
“There’s more to it than Donaldson…”
Stohl sighed. “Riese, we’re not doing this again. This is
not
your case anymore. Donaldson’s got more experience, and he was first on scene at the cathedral. If he needs help—and that’s a pretty big
if
—he’ll talk to me and I’ll talk to you. Got it?”
“Captain—”
“
Got it
?” Stohl’s heavy face was growing an angry red—he looked like a pimple about to explode. Jackie lowered her eyes and nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Now, tell me the truth, are you going to have the Heathberg write-up done anytime soon?”
“One hour.”
Captain Stohl nodded curtly and marched back to his office. Jackie watched him walk away, her lips tight. In the four years she’d been working this station she had never seen the captain just
walk
from one place to another. She had also never seen him show an inch of respect to her, or any other female officer in their precinct. It bothered Jackie at first, but she’d grown used to it. The boy’s club that Stohl and the other department heads belonged to might be offensive and outdated, but it usually allowed for the kind of disinterest that allowed Jackie to run the kind of investigations she wanted.
Until now.
Opposite her desk, Russ typed leisurely on his keyboard, a smirk on his face. “Alright,” said Jackie. “Just get it out.”
“How many times do I have to say ‘I told you so’ before we can assume it’s implied?”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “Hah.”
“Seriously, Riese, when’re you going to let this go?”
“When someone starts
listening
to me,” Jackie threw down her keyboard. “I’ve sent Donaldson three voicemails, seven emails, and dropped a dozen different files on his desk. Do I get a return call, an email? No. The only thing I get is the captain telling me to ‘focus on my own damn case.’ Fucking unbelievable.”
Russ shrugged. “I’ve been here awhile. I’ll believe pretty much anything.”
Jackie bit her under-lip and studied Russ. She had been working with him since she moved to Denver four years ago, and he had never been anything but supportive, friendly, and, for a very brief, regrettable night, something more. The “something more,” was a thing they never broached in conversation, and Jackie was content to leave it that way. The only problem was the last few days her partner had been…different. She didn’t know if it was related to work, “something more,” or just in her head. And to make it worse, the last twenty-four hours it wasn’t just Russ giving her the vibe, it was the whole damn department. Jackie had been working the job long enough to know that coincidences happen. It’s not magic, it’s not God, sometimes things just coincide and you chalk it up to chance. But this coincidence didn’t feel like that. For the last three days, ever since she’d shown up at the station the morning following the Friskin investigation, she had been getting the run-around from the whole department. The captain handing her case to Donaldson—
Donaldson! The man hasn’t been able to find his ass with either hand for fifty years
—Donaldson refusing to take her leads, and every lab-tech and forensic analyst refusing to talk about anything having to do with the Friskin case. If she was a paranoid woman she would’ve been shouting “conspiracy” right about now.
Jackie continued chewing her bottom lip, eying Russ, then beckoned him over. Her partner raised his eyebrows and swung his swivel chair around to her side of her desk. “You have something juicy, don’t you?”
“What are we, in second grade?”
Russ’ eyes widened. “You
do
have something juicy!”
Jesus, the man’s thirty-eight and still talks like a twelve-year-old
. “Yeah, you could say that,” Jackie pointed to her monitor, her mouse poised over a hyper-link on a page that read “Celestial Alphabet.” “What do you know about angels?” She asked.
“You’re not serious?”
“As a hurricane.”
Russ sat back. “I thought you were in trouble for poking your nose in the Friskin case, not for developing a sudden hard-on for religion?”
“Who says they can’t be one and the same?” Jackie smirked. “Here, look at this.” She clicked the link and a new page opened with a nut-brown background, and flickering candle GIFS dotting the screen. Tinny music squealed from the speakers. Jackie reached over and turned them off. “Sorry, this is the first time I’ve visited this site at work. “
Russ eyed her. “Please tell me you haven’t been trolling Dungeons and Dragons websites at home.”
“Yeah, it’s a little crazy, but does any of this,” Jackie scrolled her mouse over to one of the series of twisted glyphs that filled the screen, “look familiar to you?”
“Really?” Russ sighed and squinted at the screen. “Okay, let’s see.
Azrial
?” The word was written in bold, white font underneath one of the glyphs.
“Not that one. Just…” Jackie ran through the symbols with her mouse, her hand shaking in frustration. “Any of them. Do any of these symbols look the least bit familiar?”
“I’m not going to lie, Jack—I’m worried.”
“Christ, you sound like my dry cleaner.”
Russ didn’t laugh. “You’re spending
way
too much time on this. I’m not joking, Riese. If you don’t get that Heathberg report done in the next hour I’m pretty sure a forced leave is in your future.”
Jackie shook her head and minimized the website. “So you’re saying you don’t recognize the symbols?”
“No,” Russ sighed and pushed his chair back to his side of the desk. “Never seen them before.”
Jackie watched the minimized icon flashing on her computer screen. “Then why have I?” She whispered.
“Hmm?” Russ peered over the top of his computer.
“I said I’m going out to follow a lead. Be back in a few.’”
“Jesus, Riese, didn’t you hear what I sa—”
“The Heathberg case. Yeah, it’s sitting in my top drawer. Finished it last night.”
Russ blinked. “But…the captain…”
“Come on,” Jackie grinned as she grabbed her keys and cell phone. “You know I love to make that bastard squirm.”
A crooked smile crept onto Russ’ face. “You’re seriously messed up. You know that?”
“That’s what my cat keeps telling me. Now do me a favor and cover for the next few hours.”
Russ just shook his head, still smiling, and returned to his keyboard. Jackie moved toward the elevator, thoroughly aware that Russ was watching her ass as she walked away.
Jackie’s car started on the first try, which was pretty impressive when you considered she hadn’t taken it in for an oil change in three years. She’d once dated a mechanic for a couple weeks who swore that what she did to her car would have been grounds for life imprisonment if it had been a human being. He had probably been right, but as long as the P.O.S got her from A to B, Jackie was content with the status quo.
Patting the steering wheel affectionately, she pulled out of the parking garage and headed in the direction of Saint Catherine’s. Jackie had told the captain that she wouldn’t keep nagging him about the case, but she hadn’t said anything about bothering the priest.