Sentinels of creation a.., p.27
Sentinels of Creation: A Scion of Amber Light, page 27
Cardiff shook his head in confusion. “It was or, at least, he said it was.”
“Then how could he have named the lion in his books after this?” asked the curator.
“A mystery I’m afraid you must ponder without us,” said Kellan. “As Shannon mentioned before, we have an ornery pup who will tear things up just to spite us if we’re gone too long.” He reached to take the bellows, then paused and locked eyes with Smythe. “Don’t forget what I told you about the chest. Only the bellows is mine. What it rests on, is just as precious. Take good care of it.”
The curator squinted at the chest. “It looks like just some homespun linen. As I understand it, the chest vanished from the Church of Saint Mary in the late thirteenth century. Are you telling me that the cloth is not from that era?”
Kellan reached over and squeezed the man’s shoulder. “That is exactly what I’m telling you, Mr. Smythe. That chest was created for the cloth within. It was placed beneath the altar of St. Mary’s at its founding.” He winked at the curator. “I think you would do well to have it examined by those who are familiar with first century, middle eastern, textiles.”
The Sentinel gently withdrew the bellows, and was about to place it in his leather satchel, when Shannon’s concern radiated through him. Yeah, I heard it too, he projected. As soon as my fingers touched the bellows, the bloody thing started going off in my head. We better get out of here before we bring some unwelcome attention on this place, like we did with Pullo.
Kellan felt Shannon’s hand brush his own and power rushed from him. He saw how she averted her gaze from the two men as Kellan offered a hasty goodbye.
The door to 217 had barely closed behind them when she grabbed his arm and growled, “What the hell was that, Kellan Thorne?”
He quickly glanced around to make sure the floor was empty, then Kellan’s eyes blazed to life and a portal rotated into view. “Well, my love, judging from who had been guarding that chest when we first found it, I’d say that sound we just heard and felt in every fiber of our being, was Gabriel blowing his bloody horn.”
She shook her head, “But, why?”
He shrugged, “He’s an angel so I’d normally say who knows, but since he’s an archangel, I’ll amend that to, we’ll never know…until it’s too late.”
“So helpful,” she said under her breath.
Kellan nodded to the open portal and Shannon jumped through. He gave one last glance around, then followed.
Chapter 28
An End of Days
Just as Kellan’s portal closed behind him, another beam of emerald light split the air between his couch and front door. He glanced at Shannon and sighed. “Seriously, can we not have five minutes to ourselves? I’ve had to take a dump for several hours and I’m about to explode.”
She pinched up her face, then shook her head. “Thank you. Thank you for reminding me that the courting days of our marriage are well, and truly, behind us.”
Before Kellan could defend himself, Cara phased through the bedroom door and jumped up to playfully nip at his chin. The dire wolf did the same with Shannon, spun around three times, then sat facing the portal as it rotated in. Raphael coming, he projected.
“How the hell do you know that?” grumbled Kellan.
“Kellan Thorne, I’ll thank you not to lash out at my sweet boy because you’ve decided to shout your need to take a dump from the ramparts.” The Sentinel stared at her in bemused silence for a beat. She smiled. “Go, take care of your business. Cara and I will greet the archangel charged with all human intercession while you are otherwise engaged.”
“Ok, I will,” he said.
“Good,” she replied.
“Greetings Sentinel and Soulborn,” began Raphael. “Gabriel has sounded his horn for the first time in millennia, and Michael blames you. I, however, have…Kellan? Sentinel?” The archangel turned to Shannon. “Where is he going?”
She just sighed. “He’ll be back soon…maybe not soon, exactly. He’ll be back. In the meantime, what’s this about Gabriel’s horn?”
“Well, I, for one, am feeling a whole lot better,” said Kellan as he walked into the living room. He paused, expecting some kind of barb from Shannon, but instead two Soulborn, two angelic, and two dire wolf eyes fixed on his own. Raphael and Shannon both wore serious expressions of concern. Cara did not.
His mouth dropped open and he projected, I love you…missed you. The dire wolf padded over and flopped down at Kellan’s feet. Rub belly?
The Sentinel knelt down and began running his hands along Cara’s exposed belly. He looked up and said, “Okay, why the long faces, is it serious, and is it my fault?”
Raphael stared at Kellan for several seconds, then said, “Gabriel’s horn heralds the end of days for this world. I find that serious, and it is, most certainly, your fault.”
Kellan watched as Shannon drained a glass she’d been holding. “Is there any more iced tea left? I’ll pour myself some, then Clarence can explain why he’s being so doom and gloom today.”
“It’s not tea,” replied Shannon, then lifted a bottle from behind the kitchen’s breakfast bar.
Kellan squinted at her, then glanced at his watch. “It’s like two in the afternoon, Highlander.”
She refilled her glass. “Apparently, my dearest husband, it’s also half past Armageddon and a quarter ’til then end of the world.” She took another drink.
The Sentinel walked over and straddled one of the barstools next to Raphael. He reached across the breakfast bar for Shannon’s glass, but she pulled it away with a smile. “I’ll get you one, but you really need to hear what Raphy has to say to fully appreciate the need for very old scotch, very early in the afternoon.” She gave Kellan a wink, then swayed toward their liquor cabinet in search of a second glass.
Kellan gave the archangel a perplexed look. “Raphy?”
Raphael shrugged, “I believe she intended it to be the diminutive of my public name.”
“Yeah, I got that far on my own,” said Kellan with a smirk, “but why now? She’s the respectful one.”
“I do not believe she meant any disrespect, Sentinel of Order, nor did I take any. I suspect our impending destruction has created additional familiarity. In point of fact, I quite enjoy having a…nickname. Nickname?” he asked, seeking confirmation.
“Yeah, it’s a nickname, but let’s circle back to our impending destruction for a tick. When you guys, angels I mean, talk about impending things, be that wonderful or calamitous, impending often seems to mean hundreds or thousands of years.” Shannon returned with his glass and filled it halfway with scotch. He shot her a quick smile then turned back to Raphael. “I mean, it’s been, what, over two thousand years now and half the world is still waiting for Jesus.” The Sentinel tilted his glass to Raphael, then added, “And He said he’d be right back.”
The archangel shook his head, “That is not what He said, and it is quite beside the point. This world has less than six months before the Incarnation of Destruction voids it of all life.”
“And that’s when I took my first drink,” snickered Shannon.
Kellan eyed her, but asked Raphael, “Okay, that sucks and we’ll deal with it in a minute, but how exactly is it my fault?”
Raphael seemed taken aback by the question. “You jest so often, Kellan, and mortal humor still sometimes eludes me. Are you being serious?”
“Yes, dude, I tend to take proclamations of doom from archangels seriously.”
Raphael shook his head slightly then held up a hand and uncurled a finger. “One, you saved Lucifer in the First Garden after his encounter with Perditor’s Emissary.”
Kellan pointed to Shannon, “That was her fault.”
“You saved him, Sentinel,” corrected the archangel flatly.
“She told me…” Kellan paused, “Okay, I’ll grant you that one is partly my fault. However, if I had let Lucifer die, Maggie would have exploded in a shower of Chaotic energy. Are you telling me that would have been good?”
“No, it would have been bad, eventually,” replied the archangel. Kellan made a there-you-go gesture, but Raphael added, “However, it would have delayed Perditor’s ability to breach the gate our Father erected to protect this world.” He uncurled a second finger. “Two, you agreed to seek out Aibreann O’Dochartaigh, who Perditor’s Emissary had removed from this world centuries ago.”
“And that’s bad?” asked Kellan, becoming more confused by the moment.
“No, that is good,” replied Raphael, “however, in doing so you disturbed the artifact of Creation known as Aslan’s Breath.”
“And that’s bad,” said Kellan.
“No,” corrected Raphael, “that also is good for it is the only means to breathe life back into she who could lead the Morning Star to redemption.”
Kellan felt his jaw creak, and turned to Shannon, “Did you cover this with him?”
The Soulborn nodded and lifted her glass, “I started my second drink just about at the point you are now.”
Kellan took a long pull from his own glass. “Okay, let me restate where we are. It’s both good and bad that I saved Lucifer and Maggie. It’s good I agreed to find Aibreann and it’s also good that I retrieved the bellows thing.”
“Aslan’s Breath,” confirmed Raphael, “Yes, I believe you have those three points correct, Sentinel.”
Kellan smiled and placed both hands on Raphael’s shoulders. The archangel smiled back as the Sentinel asked, “Please take this next question in the spirit with which it is asked my old feathered friend.” Raphael nodded amiably. Kellan took a deep breath, and said, “Then how the hell is the world ending and why is it my bloody fault!”
Raphael blinked. “Oh, I thought that was obvious. Aslan’s Breath is an artifact made by Creation’s own hands. Its use alone keeps open the narrow path that yet exists for this world to avoid the Incarnation of Destruction’s intent. That artifact was crafted at the beginning of time and never knew the touch of either Order or Chaos until you removed it from its reliquary today. That action, Kellan, sent ripples throughout the entire spiritual realm of this world and others. Perditor fears you, Sentinel of Order. He has now focused all his energies on breaching the gate of this universe. He will now, even more actively, use those who follow him in this world to destroy you, or your allies.”
Kellan considered this a moment then asked, “Could this be related to what happened with Legion a few days ago?”
Raphael nodded. “A pale shadow of what is to come. Legion was coopted by Perditor because if Lucifer were destroyed, Aibreann would no longer be of consequence.”
Kellan took another drink, then pursed his lips in thought. “So, I’m more dangerous to Perditor’s plan than Lucifer, the High Prince of Chaos and first fallen of all angels?”
“Undoubtedly,” said Raphael, “but it is not Perditor’s plan. It is his intent. Perditor does not plan. He is destruction and destruction is based on intent rather than planning.”
Kellan waved away the distinction and grinned. “I’m more dangerous than Lucifer. I can’t wait to tell him that. Shan, he’s going to totally—” The Sentinel broke off as his wife slowly shook her head incredulously. “Why the hell not? He’s always sneaking peaks at you in the buff and calling me baby Sentinel. Now I have something over him and you are telling me—”
“Kellan,” she slurred, “you beautiful, daft, man.” She pointed past him at the floor. “Do you see that gouge in the hardwoods that so pissed you off? That was where Old Scratch drove a gleaming red spear next to my head when I pushed things too far.” She shook her head one too many times, then swayed a bit. “He’s almost as old as creation, so, please, just retrieve his girlfriend without getting either of us killed or the world destroyed.” She slammed her glass on the counter and pointed at him. “That’s my advice to you, mister Sentinel.”
Kellan eyed the bottle next to her. “How full was that?”
She stared at it dully, but Raphael said, “The bottle was full. She opened it after I began explaining the situation.”
“What a waste of good scotch,” murmured Kellan, then to Shannon, “You are going to channel that drunkenness away. You know that, right?” Shannon grinned at him and slowly extended a middle finger.
He sighed, then turned to the archangel. “So, do you have any good news to impart or is it just, Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em. We’ve got six months?”
Raphael brightened. “I thought I had already imparted good news. Did you not hear me properly?”
“Dude, you said the world was ending and it was my fault. How is that good news?”
“Because, Sentinel of Order, the world is ending because you have kept open the path that could prevent such an ending.”
“I’m confused,” slurred Shannon.
“Me too, babe and I’m half a bottle behind you. Raphael, can you speak in simple, non prophetic terms…please?”
“I thought I was speaking simply, but allow me to try again. I do not know everything that lays along the narrow path my Father has devised to thwart Perditor’s intent for His creation. However, I do know that the First Fallen, Aibreann O’Dochartaigh, their progeny, and yours, must all choose to play their roles. If such roles are played to perfection, Creation may yet prevail.”
“My progeny?” asked Kellan. “I don’t have any progeny.” He looked at Shannon who had frozen in place, glass halfway to her mouth. “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling me, Highlander. Was that hotel magic or something? Shan, you on the nest?”
“No, Sentinel, the Soulborn is not with child. As I have said, you two cannot conceive since you are outside my Father’s sight. Shannon, being who she is, has not accepted this and I believe may have actually found a way around that impediment. Michael believes her choice to be reckless and dangerous, but I found it most ingenious. Still, my brother is correct that it could easily result in your deaths.”
Kellan turned to Shannon. “Well, Highlander, you look like a young Scottish lass whose father just caught her canoodling with some boy in the hayloft.”
“I—” she stammered, then glared at Raphael. “You!” she yelled.
The archangel’s eyes widened in alarm. “You did not tell Kellan?”
The Sentinel smiled, “Relax Raphael. Maybe my lovely bride’s child-conception plan that might lead to our deaths, just slipped her mind. I’m sure she would have brought it up eventually…Raphy.”
“I do not think that is likely, Sentinel,” replied the archangel. “Shannon was quite upset. She spewed profanity at me and directly attacked Lucifer over this issue. It seems unlikely to have, as you say, slipped her mind.”
“Sarcasm,” said Kellan dryly, then pointed at Shannon. “You, Highlander, fire up those drunken brown eyes of yours and burn off the alcohol.”
“But,” began Shannon.
“Now,” growled Kellan. She glanced down but he could see the emerald light seeping out beneath both lashes and tears. The Sentinel faced Raphael. “And you, Clarence, need to leave because I’m pretty pissed at you too.”
“But Sentinel,” said Raphael in a slow, confused, cadence, “what did I do that has upset you?”
Kellan’s eyes flashed and he drew an intricate golden glyph in the air. Raphael stared at it in wonder. “Kellan, that is a runic dispelling glyph.” The archangel clasped his hands together, and smiled. “I am so very impressed with you. Such glyphs are quite difficult to make. I am curious though, why craft something that forces angelic beings from Earth’s plane?”
Kellan smiled but it did not touch his eyes. “Oh, I dunno. I just thought it might be handy in case a certain archangel didn’t hightail it out of here in the next three seconds…two…”
Raphael’s portal opened faster than Kellan had ever seen. “One,” he said, as the angelic portal winked out, leaving Sentinel and Soulborn alone.
Kellan ran his hand down his face, then lifted his glass and drained it. He sighed. “Ok, Shannon, spill it. Spill all of it.”
Shannon padded back into the living room wearing shorts and a cropped t-shirt. Her bare feet slapped against the hardwoods as she walked over to their leather couch and sat down heavily next to Kellan. She put her feet up on the old wood and iron-banded chest that served as their coffee table. Kellan glanced over at her, then put his feet up as well. “You changed?”
She shrugged. “Atlanta isn’t Oxford and you know I don’t like the heat.” She held out three glass vials, two from the Twilight Fae, and one Kellan had not seen before.
He eyed them. “That’s all of it?” She nodded. He took one of the vials from her and peered at the dark brown liquid within. Kellan frowned. “Fairy soup and Satan blood? This was your plan, Highlander? Just how long have you been working on this?”
“Ever since that damned angel Raphael told me I couldn’t have any bairns.”
Kellan waggled the flask. “Raphael isn’t the damned angel, Lucifer is.”
She drew her mouth to a line. “I am not in a joking mood.” Her nose reddened a bit and she said, “You think this is funny, do you?”
The Sentinel sighed. “No, but I decided on humor rather than anger. Would you prefer the latter?”
She looked down. “No.”
Kellan set the flask on the chest and turned to face Shannon. “You lied to me. We never lie to each other.”
“I didn’t lie,” she protested, “I just didn’t tell you.”
Kellan shook his head. “You’re smarter than that, babe. A lie of omission is still a lie. Why didn’t you tell me that my Sentinel’s Mantle prevented us from having kids…and that you found some boneheaded Scot way around the whole thing?”
“Why didn’t you tell me…” her face crinkled in momentary concentration before spitting out, “…that you thought your boys couldn’t swim? Meghan said they were likely…directionally challenged…just like you.” She pointed at Kellan. “And you never said a word until a couple days ago when we were in the car together.”
