Scorn of Angels (19 page)

High in the air, Nyx and Arcana battled back and forth. Blades, whip, wings, feet, hands, and teeth all came into the fight, but neither of the Angels could win a decisive advantage over the other.

I don’t have time for this!
Nyx increased the pace of her attacks, hoping to break through Arcana’s guard.

The last time the two of them had fought was when they were both soldiers in God’s army. They’d been evenly matched then, and both had been practicing in the eons since.

I can’t spend a hundred years fighting her! I have to stop
Tribunal!

Far below, on the beach of the small island in the Pacific, the patch of green that was Epiphenia’s essence began to stir.

Gabriel was the fastest of them, and he was nearly at God’s mountain when he heard Raphael’s frantic call,
He’s back! Get
away!

Gabriel hesitated an instant, wanting to continue on, but wisdom prevailed. He banked straight up and let his speed slowly fade as Heaven’s gravity caught him and began pulling down. He shifted his direction and began the long, slow backstroke that would take him to the glade. It had been so long since he felt frustration, even longer since he felt fear. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Tribunal, though he thought perhaps he should be. The fear was worse than that. Never before had Gabriel been denied God’s presence, and though he could feel the divine love embracing him, there was a definite loneliness and longing taking root in his heart.

How do they endure it in Hell?
he wondered, as he had before.

The others arrived first, winging in below Gabriel and stepping into the peaceful quiet of the forest glade. Gabriel landed behind them and walked in, happier to see them than he had ever been before. Michael and Azrael looked chagrined. Raphael just looked sad.

He should not be sad. I should not feel fear. This is
wrong.

“You came very close,” said Raphael. “Even though you were the farthest away.”

“I’m God’s messenger,” said Gabriel. “It’s my job to be fast. Not fast enough, apparently.” He heard the hint of bitterness in his voice and was shocked anew.

“I cannot think that this is a situation God foresaw,” said Raphael. “So now what?”

“Now, we continue with the original plan,” said Michael, his voice steady. “We wake every Angel in Heaven to what Tribunal has done to us. Then we march on the mountain and try to see God. With luck, Tribunal won’t be able to stop us all.”

“I dislike trusting to luck,” said Raphael. “But I think that is our best option right now.”

“I, too,” said Azrael. “Though I feel we must hurry.”

“So do I,” said Michael. “So do I, my brothers. Before the traitor finishes whatever it is he’s planning.” They all lowered their eyes with an emotion Gabriel couldn’t have named, though he knew it, too, had no place in Heaven.

Nyx and Arcana fought their way down from the sky to the earth, driving one another lower and lower until they stood on the rough rock that topped the little Pacific island. Neither had gained an advantage, nor had either scored a blow that hadn’t healed before the next one broke through the other’s guard.

Neither was tired, either.

Nyx’s whip cracked out in a circle, trying for Arcana’s wings or eyes. Arcana slipped past it with ease and clashed blade on blade against Nyx. In a fraction of a second, they exchanged a dozen cuts, parries, and thrusts, then broke apart, facing one another. Both tensed and then launched themselves upward to fight once more in the air.

Neither got more than a foot above the Earth before they were yanked hard down. The suddenness of the change had them staring at one another in shock, then looking down.

Vines of rock had grown out of the ground and wrapped themselves around each fighter’s ankles. In the moment it took each to realize it, the vines spun up both their legs and squeezed. Arcana’s sword flashed down. It should have severed the rock—nothing on Earth was as strong as Angelic steel. But the rock vines were moving so fast that the cut became a long scar that healed near-instantaneously.

Nyx and Arcana both fought against the vines, but they were faster and stronger than either of the Angels, and soon both were wrapped foot to neck in them, with only their heads free. The vines twisted until the two were face-to-face. Arcana was still struggling to break free. Nyx could see the effort in her face.

There was a flapping of wings, and Epiphenia rose out of the forest below.

Her skin had been white, before. Now, she carried faint lines of green through her body that shone the way it had shone when it was inside of Nyx. Her hair was still flaming red and went halfway down her back. She wore armor of deep green and brown that grew around her like vines and was patterned with leaves: oak, maple, ginkgo, baobab and palm. The blade in her hand was straight and strong and glowed with a green fire.

She flew easily up between the two Angels and hovered in the air, her wings moving only the slightest bit necessary to keep her where she was. She smiled at Nyx. “Hello, Mother.”

Nyx found herself smiling back, feeling a pride that was disorienting because it had nothing to do with her own powers. It was humbling, in a way, yet also made her feel stronger. “Hello, Epiphenia.”

“Mother?” Arcana practically choked on the word. “How can you be a mother? What is that
thing
? What have you done?”

“She made me,” said Epiphenia. “With the power given to her by Tribunal.”

“Why?” demanded Arcana. “What does Nyx want you for? So she can use you to destroy the world the way she’s using Tribunal?”

“I didn’t use Tribunal,” spat Nyx. “That bastard used me! He’s pissed at God for making him just to be killed, and now he’s trying to destroy everything!”

“Liar!” hissed Arcana.

“Epiphenia is my daughter,” said Nyx. “She has you trapped. Why would I lie?”

“Actually,” said Epiphenia in her melodious voice, “I have you both trapped. And now we will all go to the beach.”

The vines twisted and turned, moving through the earth as if it were water, carrying both Angels down from the cliff to the beach below.

Chapter 9

N
yx quietly tested
the strength of the vines all the way down to the beach. They didn’t budge an inch, and her claws couldn’t even scratch them. She settled for fuming the rest of the way down. “
We are going to have a talk about this when we are done,”
she sent to Epiphenia.

“Now, Mother,”
Epiphenia sent back. “
I have to look unbiased or Arcana will believe I’m siding with you and
Tribunal.”

“I’m not siding with
Tribunal!”

“And we have to convince Arcana of that,”
Epiphenia sent. “
Trust me, Mother.”

She looked over her shoulder at the pair of Angels and smiled. “We’re nearly there.”

Arcana growled something under her breath. Nyx just glared. She had to admit that Epiphenia had a point, and she did trust her, but she didn’t have to be happy about it.

The jungle parted, and Epiphenia stepped out onto the sand of the beach. Persephone was there, healed and furious. She lunged at Epiphenia as she went past, and fell flat. Persephone’s ankle was tied to the ground by one of the stone vines that held Nyx and Arcana.

“Now,” said Epiphenia, her voice sweet and gentle. “We will sit, and we will talk.”

The stone vines parted, then settled to the earth. They slid off the bodies of the two Angels in a long, slow caress, leaving only a single, slim coil wrapped around the ankles of each. But that was enough, as Nyx could tell by discreetly testing it. Epiphenia sat cross-legged in the sand. Her armor shifted and flowed, becoming a long, green dress, perfectly matched to her leaf-colored eyes. “Please,” she said. “Sit.”

Nyx and Arcana glared at each other and didn’t move.

“It will be much more relaxing if we all sit,” said Epiphenia. “And much more comfortable than me pulling you both up to your waists in the sand. Now,
sit.
”

The last word had enough power in it that Nyx was halfway down to the ground before she realized what she was doing. Arcana did exactly the same. Nyx shrugged and sat, taking the cross-legged position and letting her armor fade to nothing, mainly because she figured it would irritate Arcana to have Nyx sitting nude in front of her. Arcana raised an eyebrow and changed her armor to a plain gray dress that neither hugged nor hid her body, but somehow managed to make her look elegant and poised.

Persephone kept her armor on and glared by turns at Epiphenia and Arcana.

“Who are you?” Arcana said to Epiphenia in wonder. “You’re not one of us.”

“No,” said Epiphenia. “I was created by Nyx, using the WORD.”

“
What?
” Arcana was aghast. “Angels can’t use the WORD. Only God can use the word.”

“God and Tribunal,” said Epiphenia. “And when Nyx used the WORD, she was imbued with power from Tribunal far greater than that of any Angel.”

“Of course she was,” Arcana sneered. “And now what, you hold the four of us here to watch while Tribunal destroys the world?”

“No,” said Epiphenia. “Now, you listen to what Nyx has to say, and then you work with her to stop Tribunal. Because Nyx and Persephone aren’t strong enough to do it by themselves, and neither can speak to God.”

Arcana’s eyebrows went up. “And why should I believe a single thing Nyx has to say?”

“Because Nyx will open her mind to you.”

“What?” said Nyx. “I will NOT!”

“Yes,” said Epiphenia, “you will. Because the alternative is the destruction of the world.”

“Or I could just kill her,” said Nyx.

“Not likely,” said Arcana.

“And how will you get God’s attention if you kill her?” asked Epiphenia. “No, you will open your mind, Mother, Arcana will listen, and Persephone will calm down.” She looked over her shoulder at the still-fuming Persephone. “And then we will discuss how to tell God what is happening.”

“And if I don’t?” asked Nyx. “If I break free and cut Arcana’s head off? What then?”

You can’t break free, Mother,” said Epiphenia. “You can try if you like.”

Nyx tried.

An hour later, Nyx collapsed back down to the ground, glaring at Epiphenia. Arcana, who’d been watching with a combination of amusement and confusion, frowned. “How come you’re so much stronger than us?”

“Because I was created with the WORD,” Epiphenia said.

“We were all created with the WORD,” said Persephone. “So what?”

“Yes,” said Epiphenia. “You were
all
created with the WORD.”

Nyx sat up, looked at the vine around her ankle and sighed. “Does that mean that all the power that went into creating all the Angels went into you?”

Epiphenia smiled. “Not quite, Mother. Tribunal gave you an enormous amount of power, and the WORD gave you more. It wasn’t as strong as the power God used to create the Angels, but it all went into me. And because you used the WORD inside Creation, instead of in Heaven or Hell, the power of it combined with the power of what was already created. And all of that power flowed into me as well.”

Nyx frowned. “Then why couldn’t you defeat Lucifer’s Angels the first time?”

“I had only been alive for a few minutes, then,” said Epiphenia. “And my creator had made me to be sacrificed, then tried to stop the sacrifice. It was all very confusing, and perhaps I didn’t try as hard as I could have.” She smiled. “However, twenty years of being dead in Hell helped me understand myself better and to know what I want. Then you came along and got me out.”

“You were dead in Hell?” repeated Arcana.

“Yes.”

“And Nyx pulled you out.”

“Yes.”

“But Nyx is Queen of Hell.”

“Was,” corrected Epiphenia. “Lucifer is in charge now.”

Arcana looked from one to the other, then to Persephone. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” said Persephone. “Not that you believe me.”

Arcana shook her head and turned her eyes to the ocean. The sun was beginning to set, and a breeze was coming in off the water, stirring her hair and cooling her flesh. There was no question there was a lot she didn’t understand, a lot she hadn’t been told.
What would it hurt,
Arcana asked herself,
to just
listen?

When she turned back to the others, Epiphenia smiled at her. “Are you ready?”

Arcana sighed. “I’ve always liked a good story,” she said. “Nyx, will you open your mind to me?”

Nyx looked wary. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I killed Caelum and Orion.”

“I figured,” said Arcana, her voice becoming clipped. “Now, are you sharing or not?”

Nyx sighed herself and opened her mind. “Fine. I’ll share. But you’re not going to like it.”

“Shut up, Nyx,”
came Arcana’s voice in her head.

“Start the night of Tribunal’s birth,”
sent Nyx.
“That’s where it all
began.”

“I will,” said Arcana, and she stepped inside Nyx’s mind.

Unlike when Nyx had gone through Ishtar’s mind, this was not a battleground or a breaking down of barriers. Arcana’s touch was gentle, but thorough. She went through everything. She saw the beginning, when Michael talked with Nyx, and the moment when Nyx met Tribunal. She saw the passionate lovemaking that had a quality to it—of God or of man, she couldn’t say—that was different than the love between Angels. She heard Tribunal’s promises and saw Nyx crying at his crucifixion. She saw her bloody, horrifying revenge on Judas. She saw Nyx murder Caelum and Orion.

Then Arcana followed Nyx through the last millennium as she tried to carry out Tribunal’s instructions and build a religion that could triumph over Christianity. Nyx made and broke emperors and kings. She hunted Christians in the streets and convinced Rome to go against them. She went nearly insane as Constantine made Christianity one of the religions of Rome.

Arcana watched as Nyx sought to build her own empires, to control popes, and to direct human history, all leading up to the bloody battle and despoiling of Jerusalem. She saw the softening of Nyx’s soul, which Nyx herself barely recognized. Then she saw the birth and death of Epiphenia, the battle in Hell, and Nyx’s desperate struggle to escape.

And then they were back on the beach, and Arcana was staring at Nyx, looking not at all happy.

“Well?” said Nyx. “Did you miss anything?”

“You are a very bad person, Nyx,” reproved Arcana, keeping the knowledge of Nyx’s transformation to herself. She wasn’t sure what it meant. Even softened, Nyx was far from good—very, very far.

“Spend a few eons in Hell and see what you turn into,” said Nyx. “Are you helping or not?”

Arcana sighed and looked out to the ocean again. One of the few problems with being an Angel was that the greater good always trumped the lesser.
And that means I can’t just kill her for the sake of killing her.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about this.
She gave birth to an Angel. Does that make her worse—or not? “
God will judge you for this, Nyx.”

“God already has.”

“No, God judged you for rebelling against him. This is…” Arcana shook her head. “This is something entirely different, and not mine to judge.” She turned to Epiphenia. “So how do we stop them?”

“You need to go to Heaven,” said Epiphenia, “and tell them what Tribunal has done.”

“Ah.” Arcana sighed again. “Well, the problem with that is, I can’t reach Heaven.”

Nyx’s jaw dropped. “You can’t?” She looked to the sky. “The Gates are open. I can see them open!”

“I know,” said Arcana. “But I still can’t get through them.”

In Hell, Ishtar, Moloch, Beelzebub, Azazel and Astaroth stood in front of fifty Descended Angels. They were all ugly, mean, and prone to violence, even by Descended standards. They were also the best possible choice for the mission.

“Listen close,” said Ishtar, before any of the captains could speak. “I know Nyx better than anyone here. And I know Persephone. They’re both smart, they’re both dangerous, and they’re both better fighters than any of you. So don’t face them alone and don’t get cute. Hit them from behind, and preferably from a good distance away. Then move in for the kill. And remember that Earth isn’t like Heaven. Anything that dies up there stays dead, and that includes you.”

“So how do we get to Earth?” asked a large, squat, tusked Angel in the front. “Lucifer controls the gate.”

“Lucifer controlled the gate by telling you not to go through it,” said Ishtar. “Look up. The gate’s open.”

“Lucifer wanted to catch Nyx,” said another, a wraith-thin female with no tits to speak of and razor sharp teeth in her jaw. “He wanted to torture that bitch for eternity.”

“And we all saw how well that worked out,” said Ishtar. “This is a kill mission. You go up there, you kill her, you come back. Torture and kill a few hundred humans on the way if you like. No one cares about them.” She looked them up and down scornfully. “Any other stupid questions?”

“Why aren’t you going?”

Ishtar smiled, and this time
her
teeth became razor sharp and jagged. “Because someone has to run things here, and that’s going to be me.”

“You?” Moloch’s red, hairy eyebrows went up high on his forehead. “What makes you think…?”