Angel Condemned (16 page)

Sasha pressed himself against her knees.

“This business of this . . . artifact. And Leah.” Bree’s lip quivered. She clamped it between her teeth, then managed. “You know about that?”

“At the time of her death, Leah had in her possession the key to a gate that should never be opened,” Gabriel said.

“The Cross of Justinian?” Bree said. “It’s a key?”

“There are several keys.” Armand passed his hand over his mouth, troubled. “But you think that the artifact known as the Cross of Justinian is one of them?”

“Is it?” Bree demanded.

Nobody answered her.

“I don’t know anything about the relic. It’s supposed to be a fake. But somebody stole it from my bag this morning. Why would anyone steal a fake? And how can it be a key? A key to what?” She looked at them again, one by one. Then she said firmly, “I want some answers.”

“I will attempt to explain,” Petru said. “This”—he struck the oak table—“is formed of matter! I am formed of matter. The same matter. Divine energy transforms matter into you, dear, Bree, and me, and this table, and that bird.” He pointed at Archie. “It is all the same. And! It is all very different!”

“Not me,” Archie said, fluffing his wings indignantly. “I’m special.”

“A little humor is often thought to be a good thing,” Petru said with mild disapproval. “But you see my point. All things are created of the same matter. All things are different.”

“I don’t think Archie was joking,” Ron said. “But we all see your point.”

“I don’t need a lesson in celestial metaphysics,” Bree said. “And
I
don’t see the point. I don’t even see the relevance of what you just said, Petru.”

Petru seemed unoffended. “It is highly relevant. The key is matter. It can take many forms. It may have taken the form of the Cross of Justinian. It may not have. Ha! Now, if you will permit, Director, a replica of the Sphere would be very helpful to illustrate further explanation.”

Armand nodded. He cupped his hands. A glowing ball of light appeared between them, hovering just over the table top. The bottom of the ball was a black so deep that the eye was lost in it: the Dark Sphere. The top—the Crystal Sphere—was an achingly pure, celestial white.

“I will begin with why the Company cannot ‘fix this,’ as you put it.” Petru stroked his beard, got to his feet, and began to pace up and down. With a stab of affection, Bree realized her friend was in his pedagogical element. She glanced at Ron, who winked at her.

“As you know, there are spheres within the Sphere. What you do not seem to know is that only angels are directly involved with those in the temporal world. There are celestials far above us in the angelic hierarchy who would, indeed, be able to
fix this
. But there is no route for them to do so.” Petru paused, and passed his hand over the crystalline brilliance at the top of the Sphere.

“At the very top is the Light, the Lord, Allah, Buddha, Jesus . . . temporals have given the Light many names. They have cloaked the Light in many manifestations, given the Light many temporal attributes. But there is only One, fixed, eternal, and indestructible. It is the very stuff of the universe.

“There is a ladder that stretches between the life that is Light and the nothingness of the Dark. The ladder connects the six Spheres. We are born, each of us, in the very center of the ladder. All life, temporal and celestial, is a journey on the ladder. There are those who choose to climb up. There are those who choose to climb down. Each rung is a struggle. There always comes a time in the struggle when one says: ‘No more. It is too difficult. Here I must rest. I must stop. I must stay. I cannot go on.’ Wherever one is in the journey, it is there that one stays. That is the path of Souls.

“The ladder connects the Spheres. What
are
these Spheres that are the objects of our journey? The Light is the very top. The Apex. The goal to which most souls aspire. A very few souls have reached this top and become one with the light. Allah, Jesus, Buddha, and a few mighty others. The great religions of the world celebrate the achievements of these few.

“Below the Light is the First Sphere. Those souls that remain in the First Sphere have been called Seraphim, Cherubim, and princes of Thrones. These beings are the guardians of the Light, and their task is praise. Their gaze is directed upward. They do not look back. Their concerns are only with adoration.

“Those that stop at the Second Sphere are Dominions, Powers, and Virtues. They are overlords. Their gaze is directed
across
the span of the Sphere and its many universes, both temporal and celestial. Their task is to assure that the celestial journey continues.” Petru paused and looked at his companions. “There is only one of us here, I believe, who reports directly to the Second Sphere, or has even seen those who inhabit it.”

Still standing behind his chair, Gabriel bowed gravely at them.

“The Third Sphere is where
we
reside, dear Bree. The Angels, Archangels, and Principles. We are members of the Company and the Courts. Sensiel, Matriel, Rashiel, and I, Dara, and our angel brethren are directly involved in the affairs of humankind. We angels are limited to the past and present behaviors of those in the temporal world. We cannot see into the future. That is above us. We cannot see into evil. That is below us. This is why we cannot ‘fix it,’ as you have asked. We are not sure what ‘it’ may be. We are here to aid, support, and fight on your behalf. But the character and direction of the task is up to you. It is, if you will pardon a descent into the homely, the job of being human.”

“I say hooray for a descent into the homely,” Ron grumbled gently. “Honestly, Petru. You will go on and on.”

Petru settled his spectacles more firmly on his nose. “I am boring you, dear Bree. I apologize.”

“No, no, not at all. This helps a lot. Please go on.” She smiled, her heart lighter than it had been all day. “And on and on, if you need to.”

Petru resumed his pacing and his lecture. Bree thought she heard a tiny sigh escape from Lavinia. “Now, you may ask, what of the Dark Sphere and those who journey—not upward, but
downward
? What of those who voluntarily give up the essence of Light, atom by atom, to journey down the ladder to a final and eternal emptiness?” He pointed his forefinger dramatically at the floor. “Again! They occupy spheres within spheres.

“At the very end is nothingness. The Sixth Sphere. Eternal death. The black of nonbeing.

“In the Fifth Sphere are those who were—long ago—Seraphim, Cherubim, and princes of Thrones. These beings are no more. They have become as Beelzebub, Lucifer, and Astroth. They gave up life in the Light for death in the Dark. They do not praise the Dark, but damn it, eternally and without ceasing. They do not concern themselves with anything but that, thank God! We do not have direct dealings with them.

“The beings in the Fourth Sphere were once Powers, governors of Dominions, and Virtues now made Sin. They interfere but rarely in the temporal world, but when they do, chaos and revolution reign. I am afraid that the problem you came here to lay before us may be a matter of interest to them. I hope that I am wrong.

“We share the Third Sphere with fallen angels of our kind. It is these demons, imps, and monsters who make up the Opposition. It has been their task to interfere with the lives and deaths of temporals.”

“The topology of the Spheres in a very large nutshell, Bree,” Ron said. “Well expressed, Petru. If a little lengthy.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with the key and the Cross of Justinian,” Bree said. “Although I’m grateful to have this all explained more clearly to me than it has been in the past.” She couldn’t keep the acid from her voice.

“You never had doubts this severe before this, child,” Lavinia said softly. “You just went ahead and did what you had to do. You got guts, that’s for sure.”

“May I continue?” Petru said.

“You can tell me about my mother’s key?”

“Somewhat. Your patience, please.” Petru raised his forefinger in the classic lecturer’s pose. “There are gates along the way, to keep the Dark at bay. There are keys to these gates. Leah had one of the keys in her possession. It is not known how she obtained it. It is not known what form it took. What we do know is that she released it as she died and that it has not been found since.” He sat back. “It is certainly possible the key is in the
form
of the Cross of Justinian.”

“Aha! That would explain a lot,” Ron said. “The Opposition’s after it.”

“What happens if they get it?” Bree asked.

“Oh, my,” Lavinia said. “It would let a bunch of folk out that shouldn’t be out. That Pendergast, for example. He slipped out of the gate, crossed the bridge, and goodness knows what he’s been up to since that grave went empty.”

“Where does that leave us?” Bree said. “Are we supposed to get the key and what, return it? Use it? Destroy it?”

“Matter cannot be destroyed,” Petru said. “It can only be formed into something else. But the energy it would take to transform such a key is considerable. Far better to get it and return to one of the gatekeepers. It would be safe there and subject to the laws of the Crystal Sphere. Much better for us all.”

“And what does my mother, Leah, have to do with all this?”

Armand raised his eyebrows. “Your father, Franklin, is involved, too, I think. We don’t know, my dear. The answers to those questions are up to you to discover. It is our job to help you do just that.”

“Dangerous for her.” Gabriel sat with his arms folded, a slight frown on his face. “Something got at Beazley. A nephiliam, if I’m any judge. We never did catch who killed Franklin in that fire. Wouldn’t surprise me if that was a nephiliam, too. Had all the marks.”

Bree looked at Petru, who nodded gravely. “A nephiliam is a failed Power, from the Fourth Sphere. The offspring of humans and angels—the results of rape in a long ago war. Very fierce. Very much out of our league, you might say. We have few defenses against it. Gabriel is our best hope if it comes to a battle. But even he may be tested beyond his strength.” He turned to Gabriel. “I do not mean to disparage you, my friend. You understand that an objective view of the enemy is itself powerful ammunition.”

“It would be an interesting challenge,” Gabriel said. “But I’m ready for it. If Bree is.”

Nobody said anything.

Bree thought of Beazley’s body, of the dreams she’d had of the fire that had consumed her father, Franklin. She directed her question to Gabriel. “Do you think this nephiliam is behind my parents’ deaths?”

“If the key is involved, almost certainly.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“I could hazard a guess. I won’t know for certain until I meet it. It would help to have a name. Each of the Powers has a specific character.”

Everyone turned to Petru.

“I do not know, at this point. A great deal is hidden from us, Bree, as you may surmise. But, just as Gabriel is ready to do battle with his sword, I am ready to fight with my scholarship.”

“And I,” Armand said.

Lavinia didn’t move from her chair, but Bree felt her caress on her cheek.

“We’re all with you, Bree,” Ron said. “You haven’t had to call on it yet, but I’ve got some pretty impressive weather to field when we need it. And Lavinia, of course, has the birds of the air and the beasts of the field. What more could an army ask for?”

Bree bit her lip. Not to fight at all? Was that an option? She met Armand’s grave gaze. She wanted to shout: “What do
I
have, against all these terrible things?”

“More than you know,” Lavinia said. “Think about this, child. In the last four months, you never asked once: Why me? Why am I the advocate, and not some other poor soul? When I was laying there in the slave ship on my way to the auction house all those years ago, I never asked ‘Why me?’ either. It’s how it is. You play the cards you been dealt.

“What I did know is what you know deep inside you. I got the will. You got the will, too, Bree. You have the
will
. It should be enough.”

“What do you wish to do?” Armand asked mildly. “Your initial question, I believe, was whether you had the option to turn down a prospective client. You do. You asked what protection is available to you and yours. Petru has just told you. Ron has told you. Gabriel has told you. You have the might of lightning and the power of the sea. You have the beasts of the field and the birds of the air. You have Gabriel’s sword and your own, considerable will. If that will has flagged in the face of all that a temporal life has to offer? That’s to be expected. This won’t be the last time.” His thin lips quirked upward. “Unless, of course, it
is
the last time, and you decide to renounce the position and choose a temporal life, with all the joys and sorrows that is heir to. That’s your choice, and yours alone.”

Bree stared at him.

Armand paused, as if waiting for an answer. When she said nothing, he went on. “You asked what connection your family has to this case. We don’t fully understand that yet. It appears that Schofield Martin once possessed the Cross. He was killed while handling it. Prosper White, too, is dead. And he had it in his possession to assess it, however briefly.”

“But the relic White had was a fake,” Bree said. “Chambers gave it to me. He said it was a fake.”

Petru tugged at his beard. “The artifact Chambers threw at you was a fake. Perhaps. The artifact that is missing from your bag was a fake. Perhaps. Beyond that, we know very little.”

Bree closed her eyes, to shut out the sight of the Company. She folded herself into the chair and made herself as small as she could. She put her hands over her ears, the better to focus on what she should do. She imagined herself utterly, entirely alone. For a long while she sat there, waiting for an answer.

Archie’s shriek pierced her isolation. “So,” Archie said. “Do you go home? Do you go home? Do you stay and fight? Stay and fight?”