He suddenly remembered and was even more puzzled than before. It was the feeling of illiaster, controlled and ready for use.
In his shrunken, damaged form, Ariel was particularly sensitive to illiaster. He sensed for it and immediately found himself led to Abdiel.
Abdiel? Controlling illiaster? Why? He shook his head and tried to work out the puzzle.
“Methinks all is not well, milord.”
“Eh? What do you mean?”
“There is that in the air which likes me not.”
“I don’t understand, Beelzebub.”
“Nor I, milord. Yet—” He shook his head. “All is not well,” he repeated.
Michael and Raphael walked on in silence. There was nothing to say. If Satan were, indeed, on the way to the center, they would meet him on this road. If not, they would ask after him until they found him, however long it took.
Raphael was sad that it had come to this, but she hoped to reason with him. She felt strongly for the Plan. If she couldn’t convince him to join, at least he would agree not to hinder it. Wouldn’t he? They had been so close, once.
Michael was angry. He knew that there were others in Heaven who were, well, quicker than he. He didn’t resent it. But to be made a fool of! That was uncalled for.
But he wouldn’t be hasty. He would give Satan every chance to explain. Better yet, let Raphael do the talking. Maybe she could make him see that what he was doing was wrong, was something that was hurting everyone. No, I have a right to be angry, he decided, but I don’t have a right to act on my anger. Not yet, anyway.
They wandered down the road, following its twists and turns, oblivious to the beauty around them.
Soon, thought Michael, soon there would be a reckoning.
Gabriel returned, tired and worn. He entered the throne room.
“I’m sorry, Lord. We have failed.”
“Failed?”
“We didn’t catch them.”
“I didn’t expect you to. You are of the Third Wave. They are of the First and Second.”
“As you say, Lord. Then you know who they are?”
“Certainly. I recognized them.”
“So did I, Lord. We can continue to hunt for them.”
“If you do, there will be fewer to guard the Palace.”
“As you wish, Lord.”
“You’ve done well, Gabriel.”
“Lord? They got past us.”
“Yes, and they were stopped inside. You slowed them down; Uriel and his folk stopped them. Neither of you could have done it alone.”
“But they shouldn’t have gotten this far!”
“Gabriel, there is no greater master of illiaster than Lucifer. I am not surprised that he was able to confound you. But it took all he had—he had nothing left to help his friend.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“And, further, I hadn’t known until now that Asmodai was with them. I suppose I should have suspected it, because he was one of those who went to see—that one—in the South. But I hadn’t known it. Now I do. You have done well this day, Gabriel. I am proud of you, and of Uriel, and of the Cherubim and the Seraphim. You have all proven your worth.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
“Thank you, Lord.”
“You may tell your people so.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Now, back to your posts.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Yes, Lord.”
It was good to know, Yaweh decided, that he could appear strong when it was needed. Had he told them how he felt—but there was no point in that.
It occurred to him then to wonder if something wasn’t wrong when he had to lie to those who should be helping him. Yes, something was wrong. So many things were wrong that it was pointless to count them. What caused this? Who could say? Had he more energy, he would have tried to think it through, but not now, he decided. Not now.
From the top of the tree, Ariel saw Satan and Beelzebub approach. A little later, Ariel saw Abdiel lean forward and extend his hands toward the road.
Stranger and stranger, he thought. The feeling of controlled il-liaster grew stronger, and Ariel realized that Abdiel was about to release something.
Toward the road.
Where Satan and Beelzebub were walking.
From a concealed position.
Everything he had heard about Satan and Gabriel and Yaweh suddenly flashed through his mind. In that instant, he understood.
“It groweth stronger, milord.”
“What?”
“’Tis only a feeling, milord, but much is amiss.”
“Should we stop?”
“Perchance ‘twould be best, milord.”
“For how long, Beelzebub?”
“I know not, milord, but soon! I feel—”
He was interrupted by a cry from above. They looked up.
“Ariel! What—”
Ariel swooped down, his wings wide apart as if shielding Beelzebub.
Then Satan felt it. Illiaster, controlled, funneled, and focused. To him, it would have been an annoyance. To Beelzebub, it may have caused some pain. But it hit Ariel directly.
He screamed, a long wail of agony to come from so small a form. Then his body seemed to collapse upon itself, as paper burning without a flame. It turned to a sheet of black ash, then the ash collapsed upon itself and even that was gone.
Satan looked to where Ariel had been a moment before and felt a great emptiness sweep over him.
He fell to his knees and bowed his head.
SIX
Behold, he put no trust
in his servants, and his
angels he charged with folly.
—Job, 14:8
For the space of four breaths nothing moved. It was Beelzebub who spoke first. “ ’Twas from off the road, milord,” he said softly. “That “way,” he added, looking directly toward Abdiel without seeing him. Satan looked at him, his eyes vacant.
Then there was a crashing sound before them, and Beelzebub saw the figure moving through the trees. He growled and sprang into the brush. After a moment, the figure emerged onto the road, sprinting away from them. Beelzebub appeared after it.
“Abdiel!” called Beelzebub.
“Abdiel,” said Satan, standing. He reached for the emerald at his breast, but when he looked up again Abdiel had vanished around a turn in the road.
Without another word, they set off in pursuit.
“They are gone,” said Lucifer, leaning against a small building near the edge of the center of Heaven.
“At least they aren’t fast runners,” remarked Asmodai.
“I don’t understand this,” said Lucifer. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Asmodai shrugged. “Let’s figure it out later. What should we do?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to find Lilith.”
“Good idea. Then meet me at my home.”
“Why there? That’s where they’ll look for us.”
“Let them. I have—things there.”
“I see.”
“And with your help, I’ll build more.”
“Hmmm. And do what?”
“I’m not sure. But I’ll not be humiliated like that again, Lucifer. I will not tolerate it.”
“I see your point.”
“Good. Then will you meet me?”
“All right.”
“You may have to fight your way through.”
“I know. I still have the last gift you gave me—somewhere.”
“Oh, yes. That. Good. Until later, then.”
“Until later.”
They weren’t of the quality that Asmodai could have produced, even between Waves. They were not especially strong, nor especially sharp. Nor did they hold what edge they had very well.
But the Cherubim put down their sharpened sticks and took up spears with metal tips. The Seraphim and the Thrones took up swords.
Some time was consumed by all of this, as they had t
o compare their weapons and engage in swaps. But at last Yaweh looked over those who guarded his palace.
“Now,” he told himself, “I am defended. I hope I don’t find a need to attack as well.”
Michael and Raphael felt something happen. They stopped where they were and considered.
“You felt it?” asked Michael.
“Yes,” said Raphael. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure. It reminded me of a Wave, somehow.”
“Do you think it’s starting?”
“No, I don’t think so. It was different, but—what’s that?”
“Abdiel!”
He came running up to them and collapsed at their feet.
“He . . . help me.”
“What are you doing here, Abdiel?” asked Michael, kneeling at his side.
He gasped, “I . . . felt . . . something was . . . wrong. I wanted . . . to warn you. . . .”
“What happened?” asked Raphael.
“He’s . . . after me!”
“What?” cried Michael, standing and looking up the empty road.
“Who?” asked Raphael.
“Satan,” said Abdiel, and began trying to stand.
As if by cue, Beelzebub came into sight, his teeth bared.
“Help me!” cried Abdiel, springing forward and covering his head.
Raphael moved to stand over him, her hand going to the star at her side. Michael advanced to meet Beelzebub, not without some fear.
Satan appeared then, running, his eyes flashing as only the eyes of the Firstborn can.
Beelzebub stopped. “Thou shalt let me pass,” he told Michael flatly.
“No,” said Michael.
“That one hath—”
Abdiel gave a great cry. Michael looked up as Satan leaped over him and was upon Abdiel before anyone could move.
Abdiel screamed again as Satan’s hand found his throat. There was a flash of movement from Raphael’s arm, and Satan dropped without a sound. Raphael stood breathless, tears at the comers of her eyes, holding the chain which held the star.
“I had to,” she said. “He would have—”
“It’s all right,” announced Michael. “Help Abdiel return to the Palace. I’ll take this one with me.” He indicated Satan on the ground before him.
In an instant, Beelzebub was past him, standing over Satan’s body. “Thou shalt not,” he said.
Michael flung his cloak back. “Can you stop a Firstborn, small one?”
“Art thou faster than my teeth, Firstborn?” They considered each other for a moment. “I guess we’ll find out,” said Michael softly.
Harut, from leagues away, felt it.
He stopped and wondered at the sudden tears that came to his eyes. He concentrated for a moment and felt where it had come from. He changed direction accordingly and started walking again. The stick he used to guide himself made little sound against the soft dirt. His feet made less.
He wondered why he suddenly felt that some of the freshness had gone out of the air.
He made himself walk a little faster.
“Hold, Michael!”
Without taking his eyes from Beelzebub, he said, “What is it, Raphael?”
“Can he best you?”
Michael chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “It’s possible,” he said.
“Then what? What about Abdiel?”
“Then it’s up to you.”
“And if I fail? We must protect him, Michael.”
“What about you? Help me now with this one.”
“I . . . can’t, Michael. I can’t hurt someone like that.”
“Hmmph. You did well enough with Satan.”
“That just happened. It was different.”
“You mean we should leave these two here?”
“We must.”
“Our task was to bring them back.”
“Maybe. But in a sense, we have accomplished our task, have we not? We have found out what we wished to, at least in part.”
Michael thought this over, then nodded. “If we leave, what will you do, four-legged one?”
“Why dost thou defend—”
Abdiel whimpered, and clutched at Michael. “He’s going to spring! Help me!”
“Answer my question,” said Michael.
Beelzebub nodded. “Thou hast answered mine full well.”
“I’ll ask once more, small one. What will you do if we leave with our friend?”
“I will wait until the Lord Satan awakes.”
Michael nodded. “All right then, we’ll leave. When he awakes,” Michael gestured at Satan, “tell him there will be another time.”
“An he were awake,” said Beelzebub, “like words would he give unto thee, Lord Michael.”
“I’m sure of it.”
Michael turned his back on Beelzebub. “Let’s go, then.”
Abdiel stood. He looked fearfully back at Beelzebub. Michael and Raphael each took one of his arms and assisted him back down the road.
Michael looked back once and saw the eyes of Beelzebub fixed on him like the coals of the furnace of Asmodai.
“Well, now, isn’t this a fine-looking troop?”
“Get out of our way, Mephistopheles.”
The one addressed opened his eyes wide and quickly stepped out of the way.
“My apologies, Lord Michael. May I be of assistance?”
The three of them walked past him, Michael and Raphael each holding an arm of a pale and shaking Abdiel.
“Yes,” said Michael as they passed. “If you see Satan, hold him for me. If you can’t hold him, tell him to keep looking over his shoulder. One day soon, I’ll be there.”
They continued down the road.
“Odd,” thought Mephistopheles. “Why is Abdiel overacting?” After some thought, he decided to continue traveling south.
“Beelzebub!”
“Who art thou? Ah! Harut. Thou mayest approach, an thy intentions toward the fallen be not evil.”
“My intentions aren’t evil. The fallen?”
“Ah! Thou canst not see. I had forgotten. My Lord Satan doth lie at my feet.”
“Satan! He’s hurt then!”
“Certes is he hurt. He lieth not on the road by my choice or his.”
“What happened? Should I get Raphael?”
Beelzebub made a sound that could have been a laugh. “Methinks that Raphael needs us least of all.”
“What happened, Beelzebub? Ah! His face is warm. What’s this?”
“Where he was struck, Harut.”
“Struck? I don’t get this. Struck by who?”
“Raphael.”
“Raphael! You sure?”
“Harut, it doth hurt me to tell thee, for he was thy friend more than mine, but—”
“Who?”
“Ariel.”
“Ariel? What does he have to do with this?”
“Harut, Ariel is no more.”
“What?”
“He hath been struck down, e’en to save me. A traitorous blow from a hidden spot did fell him but hours ago.”
Harut tried to speak, but found he couldn’t. Tears welled in his eyes and a lump in his throat.
“ ’Twas Abdiel who struck the blow, but Michael and Raphael aided him, for they protected him when the Lord Satan and I would have torn him asunder for his deed. ’Tis an evil day, Harut.”
As Satan had done before, Harut, on his knees, covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
When Mephistopheles found them, something told him to be careful—that this wasn’t a time to be snide or sardonic. Maybe it was the way they stood, huddled over Satan who lay stretched on the ground. Maybe it was Harut, who knelt with his face in his hands. Maybe it was Beelzebub, who glared and said, “Come no closer, or thou shalt feel my teeth, black one.”
Mephistopheles came closer, steadily, and said, “I mean you no harm, Beelzebub. Nor do I mean to harm the Lord Satan. Tell me what has happened.”
“Wherefore?” shot Beelze
bub.
“He should know,” said Harut in a whisper. “He was a friend of . . . of. . . .” His voice trailed off and he covered his face again.
“I was a friend of whom?”
“Ariel,” said Beelzebub.
“What do you mean, was?”
“Ariel hath fallen.”
“What do you mean, fallen?”
“He will not rise again. Abdiel hath destroyed him by a blow of the flux, which he did aim at me.”
Mephistopheles stood, staring. His mouth formed the word, “No,” but no sound came forth.
Beelzebub looked down then and said, “He stirreth!”
“What is this?” demanded Michael.
“My Lord, these are the Thrones of the Lord Yaweh, Lord King of all Heaven.”
Michael studied the small, thin archangel before him. “Your name is Raziel, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Lord.”
“Where did you get all that about Lord King of Heaven?”
Raziel cocked his head, as if this weren’t a fit question to come from the lips of a Firstborn.
“It’s what we call him,” he said.
“We? The Thrones?”
Raziel nodded.
Michael shook his head. “I don’t understand this, but never mind. I’ll find out.”
Raziel stepped aside, and Michael, Raphael, and Abdiel took the steps up and into the Palace. Inside, they found more angels standing in the hallway. These had spears and stood in front of the door to the throne room.
Michael located Gabriel among them and said, “Who are these angels, and what are they doing here?”
“My Lord, these are the Cherubim,” said Gabriel.
“That doesn’t answer my question. Why are they here, blocking my way?”
“None may pass, Lord Michael, save at the Lord Yaweh’s request.”
“This is outrageous!” he roared, and was reaching for Gabriel’s throat when Raphael said, “Peace, Michael. This is Yaweh’s Palace, and he may do as he will, here.”
She turned to Gabriel. “Please tell the Lord Yaweh that Michael, Abdiel, and I have arrived with news.”
Gabriel turned to an angel at his side and nodded to him. The other bowed and departed.