Seven Archangels: Annihilation

Jane Lebak

Chapter 2

         Raphael exploded away from the park in pursuit, Remiel following. Raphael immediately outdistanced her, but she streaked behind, trans-forming her clothing to armor, forming her sword in her hand. The demon pair "bounced" rather than flashing straight to Hell, passing through five locations in an attempt to throw off their hunters. In the time it took to think of their next location, they were already there.

         After the third bounce, Raphael tackled the nearer of the demons mid-transfer, and he hurled him to the ground on a snowy field in Antarctica. Remiel rose up behind him, sword aflame, and looked down to find Raphael had captured her twin.

         God—Her heart seized. What are they doing?

         Raphael slammed Camael into the ground by his shoulders. "What did you do with him?"

         Camael looked Raphael in the eyes and laughed.

         Remiel concentrated so her armor changed into Camael's armor, her sword to his sword, and then her body changed from female to male. Her earrings plinked out of her ears onto the surface of the snow.

         Raphael spun to face her. Projecting her determination, Remiel streaked after the other demon.

         She followed the traces of his passage, but even that brief hesitation had caused the trail to dissipate. She could feel only hints of Gabriel's power, and she thought his captor was the Cherub Mephistopheles. But it was impossible to verify.

         At some point she felt the trail angle into Hell, so she tried to follow, but Hell bounced her back.

         Stupid regulations. Remiel flashed into Hell's lobby. Demons flanked the stone columns as she advanced to the sign-in book, complete with pen on a chain, where demons checked in and out on order of the commanders of the army. Closer inspection revealed that pen was missing and the chain dangled limp. Remiel formed a pen out of her soul material and signed the book, "Camael, Mephistopheles, and Guest."

         The demon guarding the entrance huffed. "Guest? You have to specify."

         "Bite me." Remiel turned to enter. The stone floor clung to her feet as she moved.

         The demon drew his sword. "By Belior's orders, you have to sign in exactly—"

         "Are you countermanding Mephistopheles' orders?" Remiel snapped. "You will let me inside now!"

         The torches lining the room poured smoke to the ceiling where it gathered, unable to escape. The demon said, "Belior doesn't care about Mephistopheles and his little projects."

         "He'll care about this one soon enough," said a silky voice from an alcove. Remiel turned to find Mephistopheles, his wings tucked exquisitely at his back, his armor gleaming, the only part of him not in total control his blond curls. "Kindly admit my officer, and we won't have to escalate the matter."

         The demon slid his sword into its scabbard.

         Mephistopheles turned to Remiel. "Don't stand on ceremony with these peons. I remember when you stabbed someone through the heart rather than deal with Belior's idiocy." And Mephistopheles flashed them both into central Hell.

         They arrived in a chamber utterly lightless. Remiel resisted her urge to glow: they were in the Lab Area where the chief torment was the living darkness. Demons couldn't disperse it with their glow, and although she suspected she could, to do so would immediately give away her deception.

         "Is he secured?" Mephistopheles asked.

         "I just finished," came a deeper voice that Remiel guessed belonged to Beelzebub, Mephistopheles' bonded Seraph and Satan's other advisor.

         She could hear the hiss of feathers against one another, the sliding of fabric against fabric as someone walked, and then the clank of metal against metal. "Insufficient. This much play in the chains allows for too much movement. We need a five-point restraint. Once we begin, you'll have to run a Guard over him in a V from each of his shoulders to between his legs and across his chest."

         "Easy enough," Beelzebub said.

         Remiel-as-Camael said, "When will we do it?"

         "We can't proceed until he regains consciousness," Mephistopheles said. "That could be fifteen minutes. Maybe longer. It's tricky to predict how medications carry over from human bodies to angelic bodies, but Gabriel's notorious for having no tolerance to drugs."

         Beelzebub said, "I'll stay here. You can tell Lucifer we've got him."

         "I'll stay," Remiel said. "It doesn't make sense for you to stand watch over a sleeping prisoner."

         Beelzebub's sense of annoyance crawled over Remiel, who cringed.

         "Accompany me," Mephistopheles said, sounding as if he were standing close to Beelzebub. "He's bound to be pleased that we captured Gabriel so easily."

         "You got him at all because of Camael," Beelzebub said. "Camael could use the political capital."

         Mephistopheles sounded irritated. "Since when have you concerned yourself about anyone else's political capital?"

         Remiel opened her hands and created a paper cup of coffee and a donut, which she handed to Beelzebub. "I didn't realize we paid you to be a rent-a-cop."

         Even in the darkness, he was able to recognize what she'd done. "Good one! And it's chocolate frosted, too."

         Remiel bit her lip. "Really, I can stay. Sa—Lucifer won't speak to me anyhow."

         How am I going to get Gabriel out of here if he doesn't leave? she prayed, but God didn't answer. They were in Hell. The room was Guarded, preventing unwanted people from entering or communicating. Because God adhered to His own rules, she wouldn't get a clear response.

         Well, the insane could get through Guards. But God would remain stubbornly sane, and so would Gabriel.

         Mephistopheles and Beelzebub weren't projecting at each other, so Remiel knew they must be trading thoughts and energy through their Seraph-Cherub bond. Finally Mephistopheles said, "Stay if you wish. Let me know the instant he awakens."

         In the next moment, Remiel found herself out of the lightless cell and in an equally lightless corridor with Mephistopheles.

         "He's more useful elsewhere," Remiel said.

         "Don't try to talk sense to a Seraph," Mephistopheles said. "But you're right that Lucifer won't bother speaking to you."

         "Wait!" Remiel's heart raced. "I'm important to this. You'd better bring me inside when you do it."

         "Oh." The blandest sense of laughter laced his voice. "Is that the case?"

         Remiel's heart faltered. "I deserve to be there!"

         Mephistopheles still sounded as if he were smirking. "I'll recommend you to him, but don't count on it. I don't care if you serve as the focus. Anyone would do." And away he flashed.

         Alone in the corridor, Remiel slammed her fist into the wall, then kicked it, then stood with her hands clenched, struggling to get a grip on herself.

         She was just on the outside of that little room where they had Gabriel. This much was something, at least. She formed a sigil of her power and placed it against the wall, then flashed to the top of the room (having to desolidify herself through meters of stone) and placed another one there. Then a third on the opposite side of the first. That would at least enable Michael to find the room.

         Remiel sat in the corridor and folded her arms. She couldn't slip here. One mistake and she'd be chained alongside Gabriel and probably get the same treatment—whatever it was that required they keep him still and use someone as a power-focus.

         If they used her as the focus, she'd get back inside. But then she'd find herself face to face with Satan, and while it had been easy to fool Mephistopheles (let's face it—most Cherubim had the social skills of a smart brick) she'd never be able to fool Satan.

         I'm not leaving Gabriel. Not when I'm this close. Ten more minutes.

         She sat in the corridor, concentrating on her own heart. Camael. Twins. Irin. She and her brother had been indistinguishable before the winnowing, and so far she'd been able to pretend to be him, but if she wanted to fool Satan, she couldn't pretend. She had to become Camael. More than just his gender, more than just his clothing. She had to put on his thoughts, put on his perceptions, and try to layer all that over a soul that still refused to reject God.

         Help me.

         She hoped that was God's assent in her heart.

         The first way to be Camael was to hate Remiel—it was something easy enough to do, to loathe that ineffective slave of their Creator, the one God had bought off with status in exchange for rejecting the other half of herself. And once Camael hated Remiel, the rest flowed easily: to hate the things Remiel loved, to hate the things that reminded him of her, and then the logical next step, which was to despise himself because it was one of the things she had loved and because Camael himself reminded himself of Remiel.

         Stupid Cherub, Camael thought to Gabriel. Why did you have to get yourself captured and put me in this position to begin with?

         And now, Camael thought, it was his job to get Gabriel out of there.

        

v

 

         Raphael's enraged soul had emitted a shock wave like a depth charge the instant Gabriel had been taken, and within seconds Heaven had responded.

         Michael arrived in the park, armored, and he looked around at all the guardian angels. "Where did they go?"

         Raphael returned in that instant with Camael, bound with his will, even as more angels arrived: Israfel, Raguel, Saraquael, Uriel, and Zadkiel. They picked up the information wordlessly as Raphael's heart swirled out the details in no coherent order, and Michael laid his hand on his sword.

         Saraquael said, "Raguel, come with me," and they flashed away.

         Michael turned to Raphael. "Can you get any sense from Gabriel?"

         Raphael's eyes were wide as tea saucers. He shook his head.

         "If Raphael and I can't pick up anything from him," Israfel said, running a hand through her waist-length black curls, "then he's still unconscious."

         Michael huffed. "Did you get an idea of where they were headed?"

         Raphael opened his hands. "They were bouncing, and I caught Camael on the third bounce. Remiel followed the other one. I'm not sure where in Hell they went."

         Raguel and Saraquael returned. "Wherever they've got him, he's Guarded. I can't get a good feel of where he might be."

         Raphael flashed to the clover field, and Michael followed. "This is where it happened."

         "The second signature feels like Mephistopheles'." Michael looked back at Saraquael. "Hunt out a Guard set up by Beelzebub. They're bound to be working together."

         Saraquael vanished again.

         Raguel squared his shoulders, flared his broad wings, and looked down at Michael. "Do we want to invade? I'll summon the army."

         The Throne Uriel, who up to now hadn't spoken, said, "Why did they want Gabriel?"

         Michael inadvertently projected that he didn't frankly care why they'd abducted Gabriel, but immediately he paused.

         With a typical precision and concern on Uriel's heart-shaped face, the Throne added, "Their motive should have a direct impact on how much force we bring to bear."

         Michael pointed from Raguel to Camael, who still struggled against Raphael's binding. "Secure and question him."

         Raguel took hold of Remiel's twin and flashed him to Heaven. Israfel followed.

         Michael returned his attention to Raphael, the color of whose eyes and wings had intensified as his emotions started frothing. His whole form vibrated with tension.

         "Any luck reading him?"

         Raphael shook his head.

         "Try to keep calm." Michael laid a hand on Raphael's arm. The Seraphic heat had begun to escape control, and the resonance of his soul emitted a high-pitched whine. Without a bonded Cherub to absorb his fear, he was discharging power unchanneled.

         "You need another Cherub."

         Uriel had reached the same conclusion as Michael at the same moment and called into the air, "Ophaniel?"

         "No!" Raphael took a step backward. "I'll need all my energy when Gabriel wakes up—"

         "And until then," Michael said, "we can't have you rattling a hole in the Earth's mantle."

         Ophaniel, the head of the order of Cherubim, had already appeared.

         Michael turned to him, saying, "Raphael needs—"

         Ophaniel locked his steely eyes with Raphael's, and Raphael's brightness subsided even as Ophaniel began to glow.

         "You must realize Israfel's suffering too," Ophaniel said. "She's Gabriel's other primary bond."

         "Stick close to Raphael for now," Michael said. "Has Raguel figured out what they want with Gabriel?"

         Ophaniel folded his arms and focused on the ground. "Camael said it's annihilation."

        

 

         For a minute, Michael heard nothing.

         When he managed to break free of the shock, he realized he was standing alongside an emotional volcanic eruption: Raphael's terror and urgency to act. Uriel and Zadkiel were right up next to Ophaniel questioning and questioning.

         Israfel and Raguel had returned. Israfel was white as ash, her black hair limp. Saraquael appeared, and additionally two human souls arrived in the park, standing invisible in the clover while children played and parents chatted and insects darted and early rainbow-painted leaves let go their branches.

         The two human souls were Peter, Jesus's first apostle, and Mary, Jesus's mother. Uriel caught them up on the facts while Ophaniel led Israfel and Raphael away from the rest of the group.

         "Listen," Michael said, and because he was the head of Heaven's army, everyone turned to him. In ordinary times Gabriel out-ranked him, and Raphael too—Uriel would if Uriel ever cared to exert any authority. But for now, they'd yield to him. Michael lowered his eyes, clenched his fists, and tightened his wings to his back.

         "Raphael and Israfel can't contact Gabriel, so we have to assume he's out cold, and therefore unreachable to the enemy as well." Michael looked at the other archangels and the two humans. "That at least gives us some time." He turned to Saraquael. "What else do you have to report?"

         "There are three of Remiel's sigils surrounding what seems to be a Guarded storage closet. I couldn't slip through."

         Israfel drew close. "Is annihilation even possible? What makes them think they can do it?"

         Raguel said, "Camael was convinced."

         "But didn't God tell us we were eternal, that he would never end our existence?"

         Uriel took a step forward and tried to touch her, but Israfel stepped backward, intoning, "Just clarify it for me. I don't remember if he told us we were eternal, or if eternity in his glory was a grand assumption on our part."

         Michael waved her down. "If they think they can do it, we have to assume they can. I'd rather react as if it were possible only to find out it's not than assume Gabriel can't be destroyed and find out later he was." He looked at Raguel and Saraquael. "Suggestions?"

         Raguel said, "While we're breaking down one door, they might be smuggling him out the back into another place. We need to pull him out of there, and I hate to say it, but a large-scale attack won't facilitate that."

         Israfel shook her head as if to knock the panic to the sides and let her think clearly in the center. She glanced at Ophaniel, and he must have drawn off some of the fire because suddenly she regained her focus. "They must have chosen Gabriel because if they get one shot, they want to make it worthwhile. Can we turn the tables and abduct one of theirs?"

         "Unless we grabbed Satan, I can't imagine it would help," Michael said. "And even if we did, it might not."

         "I still don't think it's possible," Zadkiel said.

         For the first time, Mary spoke. "Are you guys aware of what it sounds like you're saying?"

         "Annihilation." Michael faced her squarely. "Destroying his soul as if it were never created by God so that the only thing to remain would be our memories. If that. No chances at an afterlife."

         "Ezekiel 28," Uriel murmured.

         As she wrapped her hands in the hem of her sweater, Mary's olive-toned skin lost color. "Oh."

         "Camael meant it," Michael said. "So we mean it too."

         Raphael and Ophaniel rejoined them. "I still can't reach him." Raphael's voice quavered. "Working together, we can't reach him."

         "That's a good thing." Michael laid a hand on Raphael's arm. "Keep that in mind—if you can't reach him, they can't either."

         With a matter-of-fact lack of inflection unique to Cherubim, Ophaniel added, "Either that or he's already destroyed."

         Raphael and Israfel both ignited.

         "Thank you," Raguel muttered. "It always helps to have a Cherub cover all the bases."

         Ophaniel shifted his feet and looked down.

         Mary stepped nearer. "Michael, are you all right?"

         "I don't have the time not to be all right." He huffed. "If anyone needs the help, it's Raphael. He and Gabriel are like one person."

         Israfel glared at Michael. He noticed her look but only said, "Can you sense him?"

         "Still nothing."

         Michael turned to Ophaniel. "Ideas?"

         "Remiel gave us a location," Ophaniel said. "Israfel and Raphael give us a connection. You and Raguel have the power. Once Gabriel is awake, we have enough going for us to slip him out of there. And Remiel, if possible, can send us a signal."

         Michael turned to Saraquael. "Can you make contact with Remiel?"

         "Not without potentially exposing her."

         "Good point." He frowned. "You and Zadkiel question Camael again and see if you can get any other useful information from him: the procedure, who will be involved, how long it takes, and whether they've tested it on anyone."

         The two Dominions vanished.

         Michael took a deep breath and realized he didn't have a clear path at the moment. He looked up at Raphael, who had flames around his eyes and his wings. Ophaniel himself was trembling with the energy he'd drawn off Raphael and Israfel, so Michael summoned Raphael's bonded Cherub Sidriel, and also Zophiel, another Cherub bonded to Israfel. Then he looked at Uriel, who stood beside Mary, an arm over her shoulders.

         Mary looked careworn, strands of grey in her black hair. "What's next?"

         "We pray," said Uriel. "We wait for Raphael to make contact, and we pray."

 

Copyright 2008, Jane Lebak

Cover

Copyright 2008, E. J. Mickels

E.J.Mickels II—aka 'Hisart'— a multi talented artist, has a BFAA in Drawing with Minors in Illustration and Graphic Design from the University of Akron. A veteran of the USAF, he has traveled through Europe and most of the USA.

E.J. ventured out as an Illustrator and has appeared in The Sword Review as well as Ray Gun Revival and in Dragons, Knights and Angels. He also wrote and keeps his own web-site-< www.Hisart.us >—which contains a small fraction of the art he has produced. He works in any medium and is just as comfortable setting at a PC with pen and tablet as he is with a chainsaw, airbrush or welder. He has done custom motorcycle and helmet work, as well as in the distant pas,t worked as a tattooist. He is also a writer, he participated in NaNoWriMo 2005, and maintains his own blog 'Sword and Pen' at < www.hisart777.blogspot.com >.

E.J. is currently the ArtWrangler at Double-Edged Publishing's Fear and Trembling magazine: < www.fearandtremblingmag.com >.