Trouble with Angels

Azazel strode towards the filmy horizon that exposed the Portal between dimensions. He tugged Jam around the neck, roughly yanking fistfuls of his feathers out as they went. A sorry trail of stark white down lead the way, reminding Nimbus of his unfortunate condition after Jinx’s, which seemed trivial in comparison.

  The Dark Angel murmured an incantation preventing Jam from spontaneously regrowing his wings. Nimbus could barely detect Jam fumbling with what must have been the glove, as he allowed himself to be dragged without resisting. Nimbus struggled to keep up, incapacitated as he was. Azazel’s injuries were impervious to the usual Ethereal comforts and his own attempts at healing. His enemy’s intent was clear -- he aimed to hurl Jam from the Tranquil Realm!

  “The Book cannot be far! Your belief that I need you in order to locate it is mistaken. I will provide you with a final opportunity to reveal its hiding place or you will plummet to oblivion!”

  Jam laughed weakly. “Locating it is not the issue Azazel. Obtaining it is! And I know whatever happens, my life is forfeit. You do not permit traitors to live.”

  Jam behaved as though unfazed by his impending death. He maintained a peaceful satisfied expression, while quietly working the glove onto his hand. He succeeded just as they reached the swirling pearlescent vapour of the Doorway.

  Azazel was clearly unsettled by Jam’s obvious lack of fear. He was not accustomed to facing stoic victims who did not tremble in terror and plead for mercy. He halted indecisively at his destination, clasping a limp Jam by the arm. Finally, he heaved Jam upright so they were face-to-face.

  He chanted in a softly lilting voice. “You are brave and clever, Jomjael of the Fallen. In your case, I will make an exception and spare you. Would you not relish the chance to spend time with the object of your yearning? Indeed, she would make a beautiful and worthy companion. Give me the Book and I will grant your desire,” the last was a whispering caress.

  Even though Jam maintained the hex had worn off, that he was no longer obsessed with Celestial, Nimbus found himself silently compelling Jam to acquiesce to Azazel’s most reasonable request. He stumbled forward a few steps, intending to persuade Jam that even though Celestial was admittedly argumentative, bossy and of dubious fashion aptitude, at least he would never be bored, and that yes, despite the fact her face was usually puckered in prudish disapproval, she was alright looking. In all, Nimbus reluctantly conceded she’d make a vaguely descent catch. Luckily, an agonising spasm caused him to crouch hidden nearby, before he could present his viewpoint.

  Jam shook his head and chuckled again. “I am immune to your cajoling, Azazel. Do not think you will entice me with your bewitching voice. It is for Celestial I make my sacrifice. I am unworthy to be her beloved, yet cannot live in her absence. You do me a service by killing me!”

  “You are not unworthy!” Came a firm reply from Nimbus’s elbow, jerking him back from the trance.

  He blinked in befuddlement. Apparently Jam had lied to Ram about no longer liking Celestial. Next to him stood the very angel, calmly holding the Book of Lore. Nimbus breathed a sigh of relief, thinking how narrowly he had missed making a complete buffoon of himself in public. Again. It was short-lived though when the implications of his Other’s arrival hit home.

  Nimbus was too shocked to holler that bringing the Book back to their dire adversary was the first, but definitely the most magnificently stupid error Celestial had ever made. A blunder that even he could never match. She reached out and grabbed Nimbus’s hand, transmitting healing power into his traumatised form. Together, their energy fixed some of the damage he’d sustained and freed him temporarily from the surging aches. They stepped out into the clearing.

  “What are you doing here!” he whispered harshly, too aghast to offer thanks.

  “Trust me,” she muttered. “I will trade you. The Book for Jam.” Celestial directed her bargain at Azazel, waving the Book in the air for him to see. His eyes narrowed sceptically.

  “NO, Celestial! I did not send you the Book for this,” cried Jam, squirming vigorously in Azazel’s grip.

  “And I will not tolerate one more death at the hands of this villain! Release him now and I will toss you the Book.”

  Nimbus groaned, so far the supposed plan had little merit. Azazel countered, “Throw me the Book and I will release him!”

  “NO! This cannot be! Do something Nimbus!” Jam railed at him.

  Nimbus opened his mouth to object and Celestial raised a finger in warning. She answered unequivocally. “I make Sacred Pact that you will have the Book, only after Jam is free.”

  Azazel vacillated, a distrustful look on his face. “How do I know it is the Book of Lore?”

  Celestial opened its pages and Nimbus watched over her shoulder as she flicked to the section entitled ‘Decorations for Fledgling-Angel Celebrations’. She read from the paragraph on party ‘Don’ts’.

  “I should not have the power to bewitch you, correct?”

  He scowled threateningly. “Be careful what you do, young Cherub. You cup Jam’s life in the hands of your decision.”

  “Very eloquent. Adornmicorum gaudy!” she exclaimed.

  Azazel instantly became a garish clown, bedecked in fluorescent streamers, crackers, papier-mâché piñatas and all manner of kitsch. He stood dumbfounded and looking ridiculous. Jam reached out and cheekily honked his shiny red nose.

  Azazel’s eyes went wide with fury and he ripped at the costume with his free arm, the frenzied activity accompanied by shrill bangs, pops and whistles. Catherine Wheels exited his ears and bounced about erratically, until fizzling to a stop. Several stubbornly attached balloons noisily expelled air in mimicry of awkward body functions. The black angel blazed with outrage. Jam shook with amusement. Nimbus withheld hilarity with extreme effort.

  “Do you believe me now?” Celestial inquired.

  In response, Azazel viciously thrust Jam towards them, the ensuing events unfolding in agonising freeze-frame. As the small distance between them increased, Celestial made good on her oath and lobbed the Book high into the air. Azazel followed its progression with greedy eyes. His distraction provided the moment Jam had been waiting for and he pivoted back to the Dark Angel, wrenching his youth-giving opal crown from his head with a gloved hand.

  This act went briefly unnoticed while the others were held spellbound by the Book’s trajectory. At the pinnacle of its flight half way, a plethora of red-bound fakes appeared mid-air. It became impossible to decipher which was the original Book as numerous copies joined it in the tumble downwards.

  “NOOO!” Azazel screamed, as Jam turned to run from him with the crown.

  Azazel’s face began to wither and his lustrous black locks sprouted grey, wiry strands. He was still faster than Jam, leaping to grab him by a fistful of hair and twisting like a discus thrower. Jam was jettisoned from their world and plunged the gulf to the Material Realm. Jam’s petrified calls faded with diminishing altitude, as the wind whipped them away.

  “JAM!” Celestial yelled.

  She made a distressed bid for the Portal, coming too close to the still dangerous Azazel, who was not yet weakened by his advancing years. By some residual enchantment the Crown had abandoned Jam’s disappearing hand, tearing the glove with it to spin in Nimbus’s direction. The glove dropped at a distance too far away to be useful. Nimbus hesitated, loathe to touch Azazel’s Crown with his bare skin, his arm gradually stretching out to catch the deathly tiara.

  Although the delay had been minute, it was enough for Azazel to gain the advantage. He lunged for Celestial as she passed, hooking her about the waist, and with his remaining momentum tackled Nimbus from the path of the desecrating Crown. They fell in a confused heap, the Crown landing a short distance away.

  This time Nimbus refused to falter and he commenced a rapid crawl towards it, dragging Azazel who clutched him by the ankle and in turn tightly held Celestial. Books deluged from above, quickly layering the ground and threatening to obscure Nimbus’s dogged objecti
ve. He had to prevent Azazel from getting his Crown or Jam’s loss would be for nothing!

  Celestial flailed ineffectually against Azazel. “You killed him! You killed dearest Jam!”

  Nimbus thrashed his legs and kicked free. He launched himself to the place where the Crown was buried and dug frantically. He pushed down through the books and touched smooth coldness. Behind him Celestial endeavoured to muster her powers in order to stop Azazel altogether, but she was too inexperienced, and it was too soon after her last attempt.

  Although Celestial was valiant and tenacious, she was still only a Fledgling and could never seriously challenge the supremacy of an Angel higher in rank. Anything she could do would merely prove a delaying tactic. She did not have the physical strength to restrain him and he shook her off, leaping upright as Nimbus groped to bring forth the horrid Crown.

  “Well, go on boy,” he jeered. “Pick it up!”

  Nimbus’s patience with this evil being was as at an end. He no longer cared if his gifts made a belated emergence or if he continued to live. He had failed at every turn and felt responsible for Jam’s demise. He spread his fingers, stretched down and seized the crown. He slowly turned and held it aloft.

  “Come and take it!”

  “That won’t be necessary, such unwarranted brutality!” he tisked condescendingly, as the grey in his hair started to retract.

  Nimbus’s fingers automatically curled around the black pearls making a steadfast fist. He could not let go and his vitality ebbed as the parasitic Crown transferred his youthful blush to Azazel, inevitably sucking the very essence from his core. Celestial stood transfixed by horror at the sight of her Other bled of his immortality.

  “Nimbus,” she whimpered helplessly.

  “Your gluttony has made you weak, Azazel. You must steal to gain benefit and you are now dependent on your Crown to live.” Nimbus made a decision, he refused to shrink under Azazel’s smug dominance. If he was to die, it would be on his own terms.

  “Just words! They’ll make no difference when you’re gone and your spirit’s trapped in my world!”

  “We’ll see!”

  Nimbus closed his eyes and triggered the scant power he had mastery over. It tingled up his spine and infused his aching being, the blossoming tranquillity making his mind soar. Motes of pure light appeared and danced around him, multiplying in number and intensity to swirl sinuously about his body. He would have no problems with aim. The Crown insatiably pulled this new source of vigour to itself.

  “What are you doing?” Celestial squealed.

  Nimbus simply grinned broadly, basking joyously in his own brilliant vortex, unconcerned by the draining effect of the crown.

  Azazel’s face became a mask of shock as he realised Nimbus’s purpose. He made a desperate lunge for the upheld Crown, but was easily repelled by the spectacular radiance now enveloping Nimbus. Any hostility he felt towards Azazel trickled away as Nimbus became one with the fabric of time and gave himself up to its grand tapestry. With startling clarity he understood both his insignificance in the Great Design and his awful importance.

  Nimbus released his accumulated power, gladly offering Azazel all he possessed. His bequest hurtled from him into the ravenous vacuum of the Black Opal Crown, entirely consumed. For the briefest moment nothing happened. Nimbus slumped to his knees, his power spent, fatigued beyond description. His hand opened and the Crown dropped benignly to the ground.

  Azazel stared around wildly. “Very dramatic! But all to no avail --” he shouted scornfully.

  Suddenly, illumination shone from tiny spreading breaks in his skin. He held his hand up to his face and observed with an expression of rising terror, as the splits cracked wide and blinding luminescence burst out. Celestial shielded her eyes against the glare, but Nimbus watched impassively from the floor. Azazel became an incandescent figure, his mouth agape in a silent scream.

  There was no explosion or shuddering jolt, just the slow erosion of his shape as the light dissipated into the air. Without fanfare he was gone; an ill-equipped vessel to contain such vastness. Wisps of writhing mist escaped from the Coronet’s signature black stone, circling once before vaporising in a chorus of grateful sighs. Many stolen souls departed for their rightful places in the beyond. Celestial pelted to Nimbus, dropping down to hug him forcefully.

  “A tad anticlimactic, don’t you think?” he asked, secretly pleading his powers were gone for good.

  “You were great, Nimbus! You finally have your Divine Powers!” she smiled proudly.

  “No, Essie. They were not under my control. I knew the Crown would seek my powers in order to devour them. I just didn’t oppose it. I guessed that Azazel’s sorcery might malfunction if I gave willingly. I was not exactly sure what would happen, though.”

  “Well, in any case,” she said, burying her face into his neck, “it was very brave!”

  “Not enough to save Jam. He was braver than I’ll ever be.”

  “Thank you, Nimbus, my friend! I hope you are not trying to steal my girl. Hello, dearest!” Jam stepped through the Ethereal Gateway and winked gleefully in Celestial’s direction. She flushed as red as Bacchus, after his cockroach crisping at Mercury’s.

  She awkwardly cleared her throat. “How in the Ark of the Covenant are you still alive?”

  “It was the strangest thing! As I tumbled through the sky to certain death, a giant hand fashioned from pillowy clouds cushioned my fall.”

  Celestial and Nimbus stared at each other. “Zeus!” they exclaimed.

  “Come on, Nimbus,” Celestial said as she jumped to her feet. She towed Nimbus shakily up beside her. “Thank the majestic Lords! Let’s go greet them!”

  As they started back towards the Chamber of Greats, Jam loitered by the doorway, looking troubled. Celestial turned to him.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked impatiently.

  “I… I do not belong,” he stammered.

  “Like Sacrilege! You belong here more than I! Now hurry up. We don’t want to miss the fireworks,” Nimbus urged.

  “There will be celebrations, so soon?”

  Celestial stifled a giggle. “Nope official fun will wait until after. It’s Zeus’s temper exploding that you don’t want to miss. He’ll go off like Greek Fire when he sees the state of the place and discovers the full extent of Azazel’s disobedience!”

  Jam nodded, going a shade paler. “Ahh, with wrath I am very familiar! The Gods of my world are always venting their spleen! It is very messy and usually unwise to be around them. Would it not be best if we waited here for a while?”

  “Oh no, we won’t be in any danger!” Celestial cheerfully replied.

  “We will if we forget to take the Book back,” Nimbus realised. “Looks like we’ll miss the show after all. How are we going to find it amongst this jumble?”

  “May I?” Jam asked. Celestial frowned and shook her head.

  “For Blessed’s sake, Nimbus! You are an Angel-in-Training, are you not? You can find it easily. Just have a little faith in your talent for once! Come along, Jam. We need to collect Ram on the way. He’s back over the rise, raving and floundering in the dust. Seems he’s having disturbing visions of suffocation under monster buttocks. See you there, Nimbus. Don’t be long!”

  “But Celestial, Azazel’s jewels sucked me dry! I have nothing left!”

  “Wing rot!” she declared.

  And with that, Celestial turned on her heel and flounced off without glancing back. Jam shrugged sheepishly, confirming he had no intention of arguing with his beloved. Nimbus found he was alone again. But this time it was different, he was glad Celestial was not with him. He suspected he could easily manipulate his newly manifesting abilities and elected not to.

  For once, Celestial did not seem to recognise the full import of what Nimbus had just done. He had crushed a Senior Angel with relative ease, a skill very few of the Most High possessed, and a bad gift for one whose knowledge was so limited, whose maturity was so unde
rdeveloped. He had also failed to share with Celestial what his glimpse of the Essential Tapestry had revealed. At some point in the future, Nimbus faced an ominous fork in his destiny.

  One road lead to his existence as the ultimate Full-Fledged Seraphim -- the benevolent leader of his Order in an eternally balanced cosmos. The other generated a shudder of intense fear, as Nimbus saw himself the awesome and terrible overlord atop a mountain wreathed in flame, his mighty sword lancing a blackened, tumultuous sky, the entire universe prostrate and cringing at his feet. And he knew the outcome somehow hinged on the use of his destructive capacity.

  He was loathe to take the chance and once he’d found the Book, made a personal oath never to use his powers again. He put out his hand and concentrated on the energy the Book produced, mentally sifting the piles of forgeries for its presence. Shortly, Nimbus had it hover within reach to pluck it from the air.

  As it settled onto his palm, Nimbus thought he caught the passing of the merest shadow. A flicker in the Ethereal Glow so rapid, it was difficult to believe actual when no longer present. Nimbus knew the truth however; the darkness had been very real! Ominously, the Book started to grow to the proportions usually reserved for the wisest Elders. Stunned, he hurled it away.

  Nimbus dithered with rising alarm, isolated on the outer edges of his world until he could procrastinate no longer. He had to return or they would come looking for him. He found the glove, put it on and picked up the Book. It cemented his decision. He could not ignore the pessimistic signs. Nimbus would pretend at all costs Azazel had taken his powers and they were gone for good! He would not succumb -- he would never become a Dark Angel!

  ***

  Chapter Sixteen

  Four versus Two