Cadence of truth, p.66
Cadence of Truth, page 66
“It seems the circumstances this time are no better than the last.”
“Oh, Mr Balthazar, they are far, far worse. Fane has Hal, and I fear, this time, he will be used until he dies.”
“We need to get him out,” I say, making everyone stare at me. I turn to Lucifer. “How do I do it?”
“I remember you, Serpent Girl,” Sauvage says. “You would do this for a man you barely know?”
“I’ll do it for all of us. For what it will cost Fane. Because that’s what you’re here for… to ask a favour? Because it’s the right thing to do. How many reasons do I need?”
“Calm down, Mary Sue,” Uriel drawls, his brain obviously in perfect working order again.
“Fuck off, inhumanly beautiful glowy man.”
Uriel laughs.
Sauvage just stares at me with an open smile and moves closer. “Hal is a demon.”
“I know. I have nothing against demons.”
He smiles brightly, reminding me of Astaroth. “I am immensely glad to hear it.”
“And you’re a god,” I say, unable to resist bowing my head. “I have nothing against gods either.”
Sauvage blushes and stares at his shoes. “Hal is made from cursed bones. I found him when he was a handful of heartbeats from death and healed him, imbued him with the only powers I knew how to create. The angels I made from scratch did not care for my purpose, so they found their own. I’m afraid I’m not much of a god.”
“You said he’s cursed?”
“I felt the magic in him… knew I could build someone special, but he has violent flashbacks of a past life he doesn’t remember. He regresses at times, usually when he is weakened or when he is close to other demons, and he gets lost in his own head.”
“How can he be a demon if he was made by a god from human bones?”
“He is a cambion bonded with a demon, and I used the last of its presence to bring Hal back to life. The demon inside still exists—it is not malevolent, though I didn’t know it at the time—and it stays with Hal, keeps him going even when he is weak enough that it would have opportunity to escape. It’s part of him, and Hal identifies it as part of him. I know how it feels to be abandoned, so when Hal begged me to stay, I couldn’t deny him. He is angry with me.”
“Why is he angry?” Bel asks.
“Because although he begged me to stay, I made him so he’d never want to leave. He grows weary of being unable to use his gifts for himself. That is how I made him—to carry and share but never to use his power for his own gain—and I never regretted it until now. I watched who he lent his powers to—good people, witches, village elders, medicine men, friendly folk with poor harvests. Unfortunately, this limitation allows him to be used. He’s sick of being Fane’s puppet. This time, he didn’t even wait for him to call.”
“He went voluntarily to Fane?” Bel asks, glancing warily at Raguel.
Raguel lurches forward, looking positively gleeful. “That is almost a confession.”
“It’s nothing of the sort,” Uriel barks. “It’s an accusation at best.”
“A sentencing while inside Fane will cause a weakening that can only be used to our advantage,” Raguel argues.
“I bet that makes perfect sense to you,” I grumble.
Raguel turns to me, his face drawn tight, unsuppressed anger flashing in his eyes. “Miss Penhaligon, you may be something of a favourite around here, where my brothers indulge you as if you were merely a clumsy puppy with diarrhoea of the mouth, but I do not hold you in such esteem.”
My mouth goes dry as I stare up at him. I swear he’s seven-foot tall. The chandelier hangs low right above his head, making him look like a really angry birthday cake.
Uriel says, “One more word, brother, and I will toss you out of my house.”
“Might as well let him get it over with,” I say. “I’m sure he’s gonna make his point soon.”
“I do not tolerate rudeness and insubordination.”
“And I don’t tolerate injustice disguised as a plea for the greater good.”
“What you fail to grasp is that what you will tolerate is of little consequence. If Lazarus walked willingly—”
“Willingly?” Sauvage whispers, his quiet voice cutting through Raguel’s bluster. “Do you have any idea what one has to go through to willingly be bled of one’s power? To be drained of one’s life essence? To allow one’s body to crumble to dust? He hasn’t gone to aid Fane. He’s gone to die.”
“Then Lucifer better tell me how to get him out,” I say. “That’ll weaken Fane as effectively as an unjustifiable sentencing.”
“Look at me,” Lucifer says.
“I’m looking,” I say, even though Lucifer’s behind me.
“You’re looking at my nose,” he says. In that instant, the plague’s view shifts to his eyes, like its actions are guided by my conscience. “Better.”
“Maybe for you,” I say.
When I first met Lucifer, his eyes carried the weight of the world’s pain. Tonight, they carry the weight of his own, and it’s a thousand times worse.
“You will know my tongue as your own tongue,” he says.
Ew!
He smiles like he heard me. “You will know when the time is right.”
“A time for everything.”
“You’ve got it.”
Sauvage wraps his hands around mine, and everyone shifts almost imperceptibly.
“I mean her no harm,” he says. “I’m here for favours and mercies. Hal is everything to me… Your name is not Mary Sue.”
I laugh. “It’s Violet.”
“Well, Violet, it is important you understand he is not perfect.”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
“Every time Cascade has heard Fane do something in the name of Halston Lazarus, that has been my Hal sending out an SOS, my Hal fighting against what binds him to Fane. He is not perfect, but he is good. So good.”
“You’ve been together a long time?”
“He’s been my husband for a hundred lifetimes, and it’s still not enough. If Fane takes him now—”
“He won’t.”
There might be things I can’t change about what’s coming, but there’s nothing in Veritas about Halston Lazarus dying to power Fane from the inside out, and I’m sick of feeling powerless about the things I can’t change.
The god’s glow dims. “He wanted me to take his life, but I couldn’t do it, and now he’s gone.”
“No offence, but shouldn’t a god be able to stop Fane’s hold over him?”
Sauvage glances at Uriel, then Bel, then his eyes settle back on mine. “He owes him a life debt.”
“Shouldn’t he owe you a life debt?” I ask. “What am I missing?”
Uriel is growing paler by the second. “Why does he owe Fane?”
“You know why, Uriel. You were there.”
Bel steps forward, his face stricken. “We were too late?”
“Too late for what?” I ask.
“Fane saved him from the God-Wolf,” Sauvage says.
“He made his bargain with Fane before we got to him?” Bel asks weakly, teleporting across the room, so he can fall into a chair.
“I’m so sorry.” Uriel lays a hand on Sauvage’s shoulder. “I wish you had said.”
“You brought Hal back to me. That was all I could ask, and we both know you would have had no choice but to turn him in if you knew of the bargain he made to keep us safe.”
“Bargain?” Bel mutters. “Putting someone in danger only to rescue them from it… to trap them forever and call it a bargain… When will it stop?”
“Tonight,” Michael says. “It stops tonight.”
Everyone looks away.
“How do you usually get him back when Fane is finished with him?” Uriel asks Sauvage.
“He’s like a homing pigeon. He makes it home somehow, but sometimes we get a call to pick him up if he’s too weak.”
“We?” Michael asks.
“Hal and I have a loyal band of men, but his memory… He’s always trying to make them happy… to win them over because he doesn’t remember that he doesn’t have to… that he already has.”
I remember him looking after his men at Tabby’s, bringing them crisps from her stock while he waited for us to arrive… trying to keep them happy. I don’t want to say anything about the presence of Jack Cavelli and Raven Cloud in Mr Sauvage’s band of men because I don’t know who will get in trouble.
Michael’s not remaining silent though, glancing at each of his brothers. “Did Raphael send in Cloud and Cavelli?”
“No,” Uriel says. “I did.”
“Yet you didn’t know the demon made a bargain with Fane?” Raguel asks incredulously.
Uriel narrows his eyes at his gigantic and horrible brother. “I didn’t send them to spy on Lazarus. That was just a lucky side effect.”
Raguel eyes him sceptically. “What did you send them for?”
“Do you suppose,” Uriel says, glaring up at Raguel, “that you are the only one who utilises his team for cases that are off the books?”
Raguel pulls his head back in offence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Even with your face all the way up there, you’re not convincing me, Raguel. And really, where is the need to lie?”
“If this is about Ruskin—”
“You dare to bring that up in my house? For fucking shame, I won’t have it.”
Raguel glowers. “What, then?”
“How about you put a sock in it?” suggests Jem, who has further to go than most when he looks all the way up at Raguel. He’s burning a fierce reddish orange. “Much as we all love the sound of your voice, we don’t have time to rehash every shitty decision you ever made while your head was simultaneously up in the clouds and up your own ass.”
I love this guy. I want to watch Jem and Shanti have a row. I’ll take Bod with me to watch. Bod and popcorn.
“Appalling, oversized bastard,” Uriel mutters.
“You were right to send in your men,” Sauvage says. “Damon wasn’t the only mole. Colin was reporting back to Fane.” He looks at me. “Perhaps you remember him dropping his gun?”
“He did it on purpose?” I ask. “To see what he was dealing with?”
“Indeed. And what a waste. The man was ill equipped to translate your signatures into anything meaningful. It was like expecting a dog to use the Rosetta Stone.”
“Cavelli reported that Colin Haynes was found dead,” Bel says. “No obvious cause of death… same as Damon Harper.”
I don’t realise how still I am until my leg spasms, jolting me out of whatever stupor is keeping me distracted by talk of a pointless man called Colin.
I glance around the room. “You’re distracting me. Why are… Where’s Michael?”
My brain buzzes like it sometimes does at night, when the sound of silence is screaming crickets.
When the door opens, I expect to see Michael there and for a moment I do.
But it’s Seth. He’s a mess, blood running down his temple, face covered in mud. His dark eyes are sharp when he scans the room, settling on me quickly.
Before he can speak, I lunge across the room and hug him. “Love you,” I whisper.
He hugs me back. “Love you too.”
“Oh god, why am I like this?”
Seth’s laughter rumbles through my cheek, and I savour the feel of it, knowing there’s not much else to laugh about.
“Is it time?” I ask.
“Almost. Leia wants to see you first.”
When the call comes that Mara’s ruse failed, I’m raw and turbulent and electric. I’m still dirty, but my eyes are clean and freshly bandaged. That was my concession to Leia and Glenda’s cluckery.
The next thing I know, Seth is back. “You’re up. And Violet? Don’t let Fane cut you. Stall by any means necessary.”
59
Lucifer’s Translation
When all around turns inside out, when mountains sink and valleys rise, when rain falls towards the clouds with earth-charged lightning, four angels will ride.
One will sacrifice all in remembrance of his word to God. He who is like God shall be God, beyond reach. When the angels shatter in their fury, the souls of humankind shall be shed at God’s feet, and the One Appointed shall take up his shield and his spear.
While the battle rages, the Bloodborn King shall pray for peace in honour of the mother taken by his father’s hand. For he is the Son of the Apocalypse, who for centuries shall live as both angel and demon, and be reborn and rise again a king to govern humanity.
And by his side stands the Daughter of the Apocalypse, striking with the Serpent’s tongue, with the wisdom of four branches and the vision of the stars to guide her.
If the blood of the Serpent Girl and the Bloodborn King merges in the midst of battle, the Angels will fall. And where spills the blood of Fired Feathers and the Serpent Girl, the Mother Tree shall rise, and all of Hell with it.
When the Revelation comes, on its circle shall stand the Children of the Apocalypse, to first break apart the earth in order that it may be mended, by the will of Fired Feathers and the Serpent Girl, by the power of the One Appointed and the Earth Child of Bronze and Blaze.
* * *
P.S. Only when she destroys her maker will Fired Feathers shed the burden on her heart and make children of her own. In case you missed it, this means Leia can have kids, Violet.
Also, and I only know this because OB told me, it wasn’t just ignorance that made Krayevsky and Stewart believe I was a demon. It was a story told by Mara Morrigan at Sean’s urging. It was a deliberate ploy to ensure Krayevsky’s destruction, sold as a story from Veritas.
One more post script. Fair is unfair. The unfair man in Kite’s dream diary refers to Finian Fairfax, one of Fane’s aliases. Finian means little fair one, and Fairfax means fair haired. This one has always enjoyed a riddle. What a shame he’s so ill equipped to solve the riddles of Veritas.
Don’t resist me when the time comes. I know you’ll want to spit my tongue out. And yes, I’m imagining your face as you read this.
The Truth is here.
Embrace it.
Yours, Lucifer.
60
A Time to Breathe
There is a time for everything.
A time to breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
A time to die, to hand over the mantle of protection. To crumble as a fortress crumbles, besieged by trebuchets and time.
A time to be born, to be thrown forward into destiny, to become a fortress built upon the foundations of another. On its bones and its light.
A time for truth.
Truth is a leap. Truth is running towards the edge of a cliff, hoping a bridge will just appear, hoping I’ll fly, that I still can fly, but knowing deep inside that there is this: a cliff, and a fall.
The north field is no less horizontal than it ever was. It just doesn’t feel that way.
It’s time to fall.
61
A Time for Truth
Hell spews into the north field with a cannon-fire boom and the stark crackle of escaped electricity. The most unholy expression of Heaven unleashes itself, body for body. Without exception, the angels are scabby and bloody with negligent wings, thrown without anticipation into a war they didn’t know was coming. The demons fare no better, lurching up and down on crumpled, crusted wings, screeching when their feet touch protected ground. Uniforms aside, it’s impossible to determine our forces from Fane’s as war wages on in the sky.
I can’t see Fane; there’s too much going on. At first, I don’t notice the wrongness. Instead of landing on gravel, Seth takes us straight to the garden. The ancient oak just inside the iron circle is gone, and I turn to see if the Mother Tree’s replacement is still there. It’s not. Neither is the house. A deep, dark hole occupies its space, an inside out mirror-library hovering on top. I cry at the sight of it, but it’s so unreal, I stop.
Rowie follows one of ours into the trees by the orchard; the fiery plants throw her back out. I don’t even have enough nerve for a smile.
Lightning hits the ground hard enough to shake it. Demons burst from its scars, and angels fall from the lit sky. But then I notice the lightning isn’t hitting the ground after all; it’s forking from the earth into the sky. The plague swoops low, my starlings weaving in and out of each other, knitting the earth back together, dropping stitches whenever lightning strikes.
“I see him,” I whisper to Seth. But there’s no purple robe. Just Hazy, lying unmoving at Paul’s feet.
He looks like he’s trapped in a giant ice cube, Amethyst’s shadows sweeping around it, trying to find a way in.
“You’ll go in alone, but I’ll be right here,” says Seth. “Silas and Archer will be watching, and as soon as you’re close enough, Zach will bring Albert in. Once you’re in position, I’ll call on the archangels.”
“You’ll make sure everyone’s ready?” I ask. “We won’t have long to get in place.”
Seth nods. “I’ll take you as far as Amethyst because he’ll wonder how the hell you can see otherwise.”
I hobble forward, clinging to Seth’s arm, no doubt looking like I was spat out of a landfill. CLEAN ME is still scrawled on my chest, but at least I can’t smell myself anymore. Everyone smells rank when there’s an apocalypse.
The fighting on the ground is in focused clusters, centred around those trying to creep beneath Paul’s defences.
“Everything’s just bouncing off that cube,” I say. “Am’s probing for weaknesses, but it doesn’t look like there are any.”
“He’ll let you in,” Seth whispers.
Paul doesn’t see me approach. At least, I don’t think he does. His weird cube of nothing is covered in shadow breath, thick and black. Amethyst hugs me when I reach her, and when she lets go, Seth is gone.
“Didn’t Leia fix your eyes?” she asks.
