Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (35 page)

A powerful,
melodic voice sounded from somewhere above them, “You don’t know how happy I am
to hear you say that, old friend.”

Michael looked
up for the source of the musical voice, and saw another six-winged Seraph
drifting down from the cloudy sky. He held aloft two people who looked vaguely
familiar, but at such a great distance Michael couldn’t make out their faces
well enough.

Garnet, however,
identified them immediately.

“Anolla!” Garnet
bellowed. “Bradley! What in San’s name do you think you’re doing here? Up
there!”

Almost
immediately, Garet was on the scene, staring at his twin children aloft in the
hands of a Seraph. “Satan’s teeth!” he cried. “Get down here, both of you!”

“We’re not
exactly steering him, dad,” Anolla called back.

“Down! Now!”
Garet roared.

The angel who
held their hands drifted slowly down and gently deposited the twins on the
soft, white ground. They were immediately caught up in a rough embrace by both
their father and older brother, and various swear words could be heard from
within the emotional huddle.

 “Uriel,
you’re here?” Mikal asked.

“None other,”
Uriel replied with a certain cockiness that reminded Michael of Flasch. He
liked the newcomer immediately.

“And the fact
that you’ve come here with
living
mortals and are calling yourself Mikal
once more gives me hope,” Uriel said, striding forward. He stopped short of the
other angel and peered at him speculatively. “Is it misplaced, or have you come
to see the truth?”

“My eyes are
clear, my friend,” Mikal said, and he quickly reached out to embrace the other
angel. Uriel’s wings flared in momentary alarm, but they quickly settled as he
returned the gesture.

Flasch stared at
them with a comical frown. He glanced at Trebor and ducked out from under his
arm. “There is just way too much male hugging going on around here,” he said.
“We’re all friends and all, but come on.”

He then backed
right into Garnet’s family, and the Red paladin quickly reached out and smacked
Flasch upside the head. Flasch turned angrily, but his protest died unvoiced on
his lips as he saw Anolla in the group. He snapped his jaw shut and quickly
turned away, his cheeks slightly flushed.

Mikal and Uriel
separated and stared at each other appraisingly. Finally, Mikal drew his crystalline
sword and held it out to Uriel. The intricately wrought hilt gleamed in the
light of Heaven as though glad to be home and eager to be used.

“This, I
believe, is yours,” Mikal said.

“That is a sword
of death,” Uriel said, shaking his head. “I gave it up for a reason.”

“And a good
reason it was,” Birch said, stepping forward, “but it once had a purer purpose
and now it’s lethal edge has another target. Demons have invaded the holy
plane, and the Sword of Light will sing in justice and exact the price of their
folly from their hides.”

 “Who…”
Uriel stared at Birch with a perplexed expression. His eyes widened when he saw
the flames dancing in the depths of Birch’s gaze. “How do you know the sword’s
name? And who… what
are
you?”

“Long ago you
named the sword after yourself, Light of God,” Birch said with a smile, “a
presumption for which we mocked you mercilessly. Only the six of us ever used
that name.”

“The six…” Uriel
whispered.

“
Look
at
him, Uriel,” Mikal urged him. “Can you not recognize our old friend?”

Uriel stared
intently at Birch and looked unflinchingly into his eyes.

“Kaelus?” he
said in amazement. “Is that you? Inside a mortal host?”

Birch nodded.

“We have much to
discuss,” the Gray paladin said. “Much indeed.”

- 2 -

Despite Garet
and Garnet’s anxiety about the presence of the twins, Anolla and Bradley
brought vital information and a necessary relief to the members of Shadow
Company. They confirmed that most of the women and youths who had accompanied
them to the Binding had escaped the demon ambush, thanks to the efforts of the
paladins and Moreen. Garet was relieved that Nuse and James were among the five
paladins who had survived, even as he mourned the loss of Atalik, the Orange
paladin whom they’d seen fall. Brican had already pulled the news of Caeesha’s
safety from Brad’s mind, but he smiled in thanks when the twins told him.

“We saw Alicia
get away,” Anolla told Danner, who closed his eyes and whispered a prayer of
thanks for her safety. A few feet away, that prayer was echoed by Marc, who was
doubly thankful that both Janice and his sister had both gotten away safely.
Danner almost felt guilty, knowing that so many others had died while he was
relieved over the safety of his beloved. The conversation moved on and everyone
ignored him as he stared morosely into the distance.

“It’s a natural
reaction,” Trebor said, placing a hand on Danner’s shoulder. “Don’t beat
yourself up over it. You’ve carried enough guilt for far too long.”

“Trebor… I…”
Danner’s throat tightened and he couldn’t force any more words out.

“Danner, I don’t
blame you at all,” the denarae said. “The heat of battle takes us all. Heaven
knows I was incensed myself at the sight of what those demons were doing, and
so I can understand what came over you. It happened,” he said with a shrug.

Danner’s mouth
worked silently as he tried to straighten out the conflicting thoughts and
emotions in his head.

“And besides,”
Trebor continued with a pleasant smile, “I’ve come here, to Heaven. How could I
possibly regret leaving my life under any circumstances when I have this
wonderful, beautiful place surrounding me?”

Danner stared at
him in perplexity.

“You’re
serious?” he asked.

Trebor nodded
enthusiastically.

“You’ll see when
you get around some more,” he said. “It’s a wonderful, peaceful place here.”

Peaceful?
Danner thought.
Isn’t there a
war
going on?

Trebor frowned
and shook his head as though ridding it of an unwelcome thought, then his smile
came back.

“Am I
interrupting anything?”

Danner looked
over his shoulder and saw Brican standing behind him, a slightly wooden smile
on his face.

“No, not at
all,” Trebor said. “Come, join us, cousin.”

Trebor and
Brican almost immediately started reminiscing about family, so Danner’s attention
quickly wandered. Across the fire, Garnet and his father were talking with
Gerard Morningham, who smiled at some comment Garet had just made. Danner
shifted a little so he could hear the trio more clearly.

“I must tell
you,” Gerard was saying to Garnet, “I was very pleased with how you handled
Malith after my death. He was a truly vile man, and I’m glad he received
justice.”

“The bastard
killed you, Gerard,” Garet said in irritated wonder. “I’d have thought you’d
have a bit more to say about him than that.”

“Why?” Gerard
asked. “It’s over with, it’s passed.”

“True enough,”
Garnet said. He looked up and caught Danner staring at him. He shifted his eyes
deliberately toward Brican, and a second later Danner received a kythed summons
routed through their denarae friend.

“I’ll hand
off Trebor with some of the company and meet you all in a second,”
Brican
told Danner.
“Garnet wants
current
Shadow Company officers to meet
over where the dakkans are resting.”

Danner frowned
at the emphasis on “current” members, but complied with the order without
comment. He excused himself and quickly made his way to the area where most of
the dakkans were bedding down.

- 3 -

It was still
light outside, and Mikal had told them that would never change. There was no
“night” in Heaven, because angels and the blessed dead didn’t need to sleep.
Occasionally they entered a dormant state, but it was independent of a
day-night cycle. Already they’d slept once since crossing the Binding, and they
used gnomish time-clocks to keep track of the hours. When it was time to sleep,
those who couldn’t ignore the light either draped their cloaks over their heads
or else covered their eyes with makeshift blindfolds.

A wave of manure
smell drifted past Danner as he approached the dakkans, and he was reminded
that while none of them truly had to eat while on the immortal plane, they had
brought enough provisions to last for months if they ate sparingly. No matter
the convenience of not
needing
to eat, there was something comfortable
and…
mortal
about taking the time out to consume a meal.

Unfortunately,
in the dakkans’ case especially, there were some unavoidable results, the most
pungent of which Danner had just experienced first-hand.

“Lovely place
you chose for our little meeting, Garnet,” Flasch complained as everyone
gathered.

“You’d rather be
somewhere else?” Garnet asked.

“Of course.”

“Good, so will
everyone else, which will ensure us a few moments of privacy,” Garnet pointed
out.

“Damn your
logic,” Flasch muttered.

Guilian and
Brican were the last two to show up, and both men wrinkled their noses as they
came closer, but neither commented.

“So what’s all
this about?” Marc asked.

“There’s
something wrong here,” Garnet said. “Most of you have probably noticed it, too,
but I can’t seem to put my finger on what it is.”

“Trebor and
Gerard are acting a little strange,” Brican said.

“Especially
Gerard,” Michael said, frowning. “I felt it right away, but I’ll be damned if I
can figure out what it is.”

“Gerard hasn’t
sworn once since he’s been here,” Guilian said quietly. They all stared at him
in amazement.

“
Thank
you,” Michael practically exploded.

“Dear God,
you’re right,” Danner said fighting back a laugh. “I can’t believe I didn’t
pick up on that. Gerard not cursing?”

“I’m surprised
he hasn’t exploded yet,” Flasch said, grinning.

“It may not be a
laughing matter,” Marc said seriously. Six pairs of eyes shifted to look at the
Orange paladin.

“What do you
mean?” Garnet asked.

“Look, we all know
Gerard firsthand,” Marc said, “and the five of us know him even better than you
two,” he said, indicating the two denarae, who hadn’t trained to be paladins
under the abrasive Red. “I don’t know what it signifies that he won’t or can’t
curse, but I do know that is
not
the man we knew. He’s so pleasant and
relaxed, it’s like they’re not even really aware there’s a war going on. It’s
creepy. And he acted almost subservient to Mikal when he first saw him. He and
Trebor both practically bow when one of the angels comes anywhere near them.”

“That sort of
creeped me out, too,” Brican said. “Anolla and Bradley mentioned something
about when they first met Uriel that caught my attention. I asked Uriel about
it, and he said most of the angels think of the blessed dead as lesser beings,
and the dead souls tend to take that sort of role with the immortals. He said…”

“I said,” Uriel
said, appearing from behind a group of dakkans, “that it was refreshing to
speak to mortals who didn’t bow all the time and who could still think for
themselves.”

Marc snapped his
fingers and pointed at Uriel.

“Yes,” the
Seraph said sadly, “you’re right.”

“What?” Michael
asked, staring from one to the other.

“That’s what’s
wrong with Gerard and Trebor,” Marc said. “They’re not thinking for themselves,
at least not totally. It’s like all their negative thoughts and feelings have
been wiped away.”

“Suppressed, to
be more accurate,” Uriel said, “by Maya. And it’s more than just their
thoughts, it’s their ability to choose or act differently. She has suppressed
their free will somehow. Her influence grows every day, it seems, and even my
Archangels have succumbed. Right now nearly every being in Heaven is under her
sway, be they mortal souls or immortal angels. You saw what she did to Mikal.”

They all nodded
soberly.

“That’s what
it’s like everywhere here,” the seraphim said. “One of the blessed dead, an
Orange paladin, has been interviewing the recently dead souls and has confirmed
the worst of my fears, that Mikal was murdering innocents. He’s also looked
into the state-of-mind of the blessed dead, and because of Vander, I’ve been
able to keep careful track of events here. He’s no doubt as much under Maya’s
sway as the rest, but until recently she hasn’t hindered his reports to me.”

“Vander,” Danner
said slowly, “Vander Wayland?”

Uriel nodded.

“He was a
companion of my uncle while he was hunting The Three,” Danner said.

“Vander’s here?”
Marc asked in excitement. “Well, of course he would be. Why didn’t I think of
that before?”

Flasch murmured
something about having a wild guess, but the Orange paladin either didn’t hear
him or else just ignored his friend.

“Where is he?”
Marc asked. “I’ve got so much I want to ask him.”

Uriel shook his
head. “I lost contact with him several days ago, and from several hints Maya
has dropped, I believe she’s imprisoned him somewhere within Medina. The city
is too immense and labyrinthine for me to ever find him by myself, and I can’t
spare the time or resources away from the war.”

Marc looked
crestfallen.

“So many things
she has to answer for,” Uriel said grimly, “the foremost offense is her
dampening of the mortal right to choose. I don’t know why she’s done it, she’ll
only tell me it’s for some greater good. She’s proclaimed herself the
Metatron.”

“The Voice of
God?” Marc exclaimed. “There’s never actually
been
a Metatron, has
there?”

“Maya seems to
think she’s always been it,” Uriel said, “she’s just only now been given
permission to proclaim it to the rest of us. Unfortunately, she’s got so much
power there’s no one capable of standing up to her, at least not if they want
to survive the experience.”