Annihilation, p.19
Annihilation, page 19
Mephistopheles thril ed as Remiel raised her arms to conduct nature like a symphony orchestra, cal ing more rain now, more wind there. The sky
darkened to olive.
Zadkiel was praying. Mephistopheles laughed.
"Quite a show," said a deep voice at his side. Asmodeus.
Mephistopheles didn't answer, but he felt his soul despite itself welcome the weak bond with the Seraph.
"I'm wondering what they're planning to do," Asmodeus said.
"She's too far gone to capture. The sheep are asking God to do something." Mephistopheles huffed. "I'm betting he's just as responsive as he was with Gabriel."
Asmodeus cocked his head. "Which is to say?"
"That he won't care."
Asmodeus sparkled with wild energy: the Seraph wanted to head down there and mix things up a bit. The Seraph hadn't summoned Belior, so
Mephistopheles drew off some of the energy to stabilize him. Asmodeus's warmth shot through him like whiskey, and it quel ed a hunger of which
he'd been barely aware. He hadn't touched Beelzebub's fire since Gabriel's death.
Saraquael shouted something to Zadkiel about getting him at least one sane moment.
Fat chance, Mephistopheles projected.
You've got to admit, Asmodeus replied, she's got some power.
The twin raised its arms and cal ed a bolt of lightning. The energy erupted from overhead with a simultaneous flash and boom, searing the air and rocking the earth. Mephistopheles lost his balance, but Asmodeus caught him momentarily before he pul ed free.
The lightning struck the Irin.
"Now!" Saraquael projected to everyone, and both he and Zadkiel grasped the Irin as she leaped aloft, him around her chest and Zadkiel around her thighs while Remiel attempted to beat them off with her wings, kicking, head thrown back. A shower of raindrops blasted from her feathers as
she flailed, and both demons leaned forward to watch.
Remiel cal ed more lightning, straight at al three of them. Zadkiel stared.
With a gasp, Saraquael wrenched Remiel around in midair so the bolt blasted her ful in the chest.
"Bravo!" Asmodeus cal ed. Then, to Mephistopheles, I didn't think he'd do it!
Fast reaction time.
Remiel lay limp in Saraquael's grasp. Zadkiel threw out a Guard. Saraquael flashed them away, fol owed a moment later by the Archangels.
They won't hold her long, Asmodeus sent.
They touched her at al , Mephistopheles replied. She had to have been rational for at least a second.
The weather calmed as if someone had turned off a fan. The groaning tree stood firm again, and Mephistopheles flashed out to the flattened
cornfield to avoid the dripping leaves. A moment after, Asmodeus fol owed.
He nudged the sticky ground with his boot. "She was bleeding?"
Mephistopheles assented.
"I'm upset you didn't cal me sooner."
"I didn't cal you at al ."
"I notice you didn't cal Beelzebub, either." When Mephistopheles shot him a glare, Asmodeus smiled. Wretched snake-oil salesman. Did he think Mephistopheles couldn't read him like a cheap paperback?
With a jolt, Mephistopheles realized—he was being propositioned.
His discovery had earned him enough political capital that everyone was singing his praises—and if Asmodeus could get Mephistopheles to
change loyalties, Lucifer certainly wouldn't put someone this popular in charge of the army. Asmodeus would have to be promoted to Lucifer's
number two again.
Asmodeus groped for him through the bond, and Mephistopheles absorbed the energy without thinking about it. He'd never even considered— But
then Belior…and Beelzebub…
He took a few steps, feeling the wind wrapping his wet clothes against his legs. Asmodeus watched. He shivered.
"I need a favor." The rain plastered Mephistopheles' hair to his head and dripped down the back of his armor between his wings. "Camael is missing. Given Remiel's mental state—"
"Say no more," Asmodeus said. "Consider him found." And away he flashed.
Mephistopheles moved to the spot where the lightning had hit, standing on the charred earth and remembering how Remiel had sliced open her
arm while talking to a Gabriel who was no more. The wind wrapped circles around him, and the corn lay beaten flat by the mad rain.
~~~
Gabriel rocketed out of Uriel's grasp the instant he awoke. Raphael and Michael rushed to grab him, but he blasted through the Guards and flashed
away. Raphael flashed after him. Michael took off in pursuit of them both, uncertain where he'd headed but fol owing the trail of fear.
He skidded up to Raphael, who had Gabriel crumpled at his feet. The Seraph turned, spread his arms, and send a hard blast outward: Back!
Michael dropped to his knees beside Gabriel, who had grey eyes white-ringed, question and aching rol ing off him. Raphael crouched beside them,
covering Gabriel with his wings.
Michael looked around for the first time: the throne of God. Gabriel had fled directly to his Father.
Raphael's "Back!" had been directed at a dozen Cherubim and Seraphim who had come to help. A moment after that realization, Michael made a second one: it wasn't working. The Seraphim had stopped, but if anything, more Cherubim were gathering.
"Is he okay?" "What happened?" "Can we see?" "How does one reattach—"
Gabriel struggled against Raphael's hold, and Raphael had to force him to look into his eyes. Michael expected Gabriel to calm instantaneously,
but it didn't happen.
Michael put a Guard around them, then doubled it. Behind him he could hear Raphael trying to talk Gabriel into a state of calm. "You're safe! You're with me! Gabriel, listen to me!"
Michael glanced beyond the bubble to the waiting Cherub faces.
In the next moment he felt Jesus arrive. The Cherubim dispersed on his order, but not without a few looking over their shoulders.
Jesus walked through the Guard as Raphael stood, hefting Gabriel in his arms.
Raphael looked urgent. "I need to tel you—"
"Rapha'li, later." Jesus kissed him on the cheek. "I'l stil be here."
Blinking hard, Raphael flashed Gabriel away. Michael projected his thanks, then returned as wel .
The first thing he saw was Israfel's livid face. "How could you let him escape? Uriel said we might need you when he regained consciousness!"
"I'd set up the Guard to keep others out," Michael said. "It never occurred to me I needed to keep him in."
Raphael set Gabriel up on his feet, although stil clinging to Raphael's shoulders; the Cherub radiated fear, shock, confusion, and then it ebbed.
Drawing close, Uriel looked over Gabriel, then into his eyes, then around to the side of him. "There doesn't seem to be any harm done."
"I've change permissions on the Guard," Michael said. "You guys wil have to ask me if you want to leave."
Uriel said, "Gabriel?"
The Cherub turned to look, and then whipped back projecting the same emotional gyrations: shock, confusion, and then understanding.
Israfel said, "What's going on?"
Uriel moved in front of Gabriel so they were eye to eye. Gabriel was shaking, leaning more on Raphael. He'd paled al over, and his wings drooped.
"Back to bed with you," Uriel said, and Raphael flashed him there.
Gabriel startled: shock, confusion, and then relief.
"Every time he moves," Raphael whispered.
Uriel sat beside him. "Are you in pain?"
Gabriel shook his head.
"Do you recognize us?"
He nodded.
"Do you remember being captured?"
Gabriel's eyes widened. His fear fil ed the room.
Uriel reached for Gabriel's hands. "Do you remember what they tried to do with you?"
Watching over Uriel's shoulder, Michael saw Gabriel's eyes cloud. The fear grew cold as an arctic wind, and both Mary and Israfel backed into
corners. Michael stemmed his own urge to run.
"Do you remember anything afterward?" Uriel leaned closer. "Do you remember being rescued?"
Gabriel shook his head. He'd begun to tremble.
Uriel took a deep breath. "There's a lot to tel you, but right now, you need to know that I'm trying to repair al the damage they did. Your soul is like beads on a string, and—" Michael didn't catch what happened, but Uriel laughed. "Yes, that's it. So they took the time to explain? Lovely." Uriel gave Gabriel's hands a squeeze. "I'm nearly done, but there are stil quite a few pieces that need to be attached. I assume that's why you can't keep track of where you are. And you're freezing."
Gabriel was shivering violently by now. Raphael repositioned his wings over Gabriel like a cloak, but the Cherub kept shaking. His teeth were chattering.
"Lay him down," Uriel said softly, and when Raphael did, the same projections: shock, terror, confusion, then realization.
Raphael had gone white. He lay alongside Gabriel, form-fitting around him and warming the air with his wings but not with his Seraphic fire. Gabriel closed his eyes, curled tight with his fists wrapped around the blanket, and by the time they were done raising the temperature of the room, he was in a restless sleep.
Raphael raised his head. "I couldn't feel him at al ."
Uriel looked at Israfel, who stepped closer to the bed. "Me neither. That's real y unusual."
Mary said, "Why didn't he talk?"
Michael replayed the last five minutes and realized she was right—Gabriel had never spoken.
"He's able to communicate," Uriel said. "If he has to project for a while, I'm okay with that. I'm not sure what al the pieces are that we've connected, but maybe one of the remaining ones is speech." The Throne looked at Raphael. "Are you al right? There's a bit more to go."
He let out a long breath. "I'l have to be al right, won't I?"
Uriel went misty again, but this time it did seem to go faster, and Uriel stayed partial y visible. They had the finish line in sight. Three hours ago they'd accepted that Gabriel would die, and now he'd not only awakened but seemed to be himself, if stil damaged. It had been thirty hours of solid tension.
Uriel let off an aura of surprise. "I can see where Satan broke your bonds."
Israfel jumped up. "What?"
Sparks shot from Raphael's eyes. "That jerk! What right did he have to do that?"
Michael fought a grin. "Is there a little Cherub-to-Seraph socket?"
Uriel smiled at him, agreeing.
Raphael said, "Plug it back in, then."
Uriel sent a negative. "He's going to be weak for a while." A frown. "It doesn't look damaged, so there shouldn't be anything stopping you from rebonding after he's stabilized."
Raphael didn't look happy, but he assented. Israfel said nothing else, so Uriel continued the repair. After another fifteen minutes, the Throne pul ed back and solidified.
"That's it?" said Mary.
Uriel sighed with weariness.
Raphael and Israfel leaned forward, touching Gabriel. He seemed solid enough. Both Seraphim had tears in their eyes.
Raphael turned to Uriel. "Do you think he'l be al right for a few minutes? I owe someone an apology."
Michael wasn't the only one who caught the pain etched on Raphael's face. "He'l be al right longer than a few minutes," Uriel said. "Go."
Michael lowered the Guard for Raphael to exit, and immediately he had a message from Saraquael.
Michael? Can you be spared?
Not for a while longer. He frowned. What's going on?
Remiel. Saraquael's "voice" was shaky. Gabriel—?
He's alive!
Suddenly he realized how much joy there was in him to be saying that. When they'd been doing the repairs it was just something being done, but
now—
Saraquael had picked up the rest. He's better?
Uriel found the string and repaired him.
Oh, thank God!
Saraquael's voice vanished for a moment. Michael imagined Saraquael had taken the time to thank God directly, so he moved onto the bungalow
roof and reset the Guard.
You mean it?
Michael laughed out loud: Saraquael sounded the way he felt. Yes, I mean it. He got the feeling Saraquael had needed some good news. Now,
what about Remiel?
She's real y unstable. Make that completely unstable.
Michael took a deep breath. Where is she?
She's here, but unconscious.
Here, being—?
Being at my home. She rouses from time to time, but she's radiating energy, and as I said, she's unstable. I'm sure I won't be able to keep her here when she awakens.
In the silence, Michael realized Saraquael wanted him to give an order, and Michael also knew he had no clue what it should be. He couldn't contain an angel on the verge of insanity any more than Saraquael could. You need to stay with her. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself or anyone else.
The sick dread in response told Michael the situation had escalated beyond that point already.
Try to talk her down.
Wil do. Not much assurance, there.
Raphael returned looking stunned, so Michael flashed them both back inside the Guards.
Israfel sat up straight. "My goodness, Raphael—are you okay?"
He just stood with his shoulders bowed.
Michael looked to Uriel only to find the angel already asleep on a pile of cushions. The Seraphim looked equal y cooked. "Israfel, take a break.
Write a concerto. Do something that has nothing to do with anything."
Once she departed, Michael turned to Raphael. "You're in my chain of command during times of crisis, and this qualifies as a crisis. I'm ordering you to get some sleep."
Wan, red-eyed, Raphael col apsed onto the opposite side of the bed and lay facing the wal .
Michael turned next to Mary, who had settled herself in the rocking chair.
"You go," she said. "I'l stay."
"I'm going to stay with him."
"If I go home," she said, "I'l cook, I'l pray, I'l knit, and I'l talk to everyone about what happened. If I stay, you can head out to take charge of the heavenly host. You'l be immediately accessible if they strike again. You can get the Cherubim to work out a system to protect everyone else. And
you'l be able to handle whatever crisis had you so worked up when you came back inside."
Michael sighed.
"Plus, I can do math." Mary cal ed a knitting bag to her hands. "If three of the Seven are in this room, and you stay, that leaves only three out there to keep things running smoothly."
Michael shook his head. "One more of them is down for the count right now. Remiel is in trouble. So it'd be two."
"Then definitely leave the unimportant person here to do the easy job." Mary smiled. "I'l pray for you and for Remiel too." So Michael went.
Chapter 15
He felt her awaken.
Saraquael moved closer to Remiel, unable to look at her too careful y but also unwil ing to take his attention away from her. His heart pounded.
Remiel opened white-ringed eyes, shivering as she huddled against the arm of the couch. Her chest heaved. Saraquael's cats scattered through the open window, but although he watched them with envy, he remained. Remiel reeked of ozone and smoke, which Saraquael tried not to notice.
Clutching a brown pil ow to her stomach, she regarded the paintings and the bookshelves with a flat affect. Her eyes had faded to butter yel ow, but despite that, her grip around her legs remained locked, and her chin rested on her knees. Saraquael had pul ed the drapes, but that didn't account
for the darkness. Although she must have sobered some because she hadn't fled, she seemed more feral than before.
Zadkiel and Raguel stood guard—Zadkiel on the outside and Raguel within. They'd put up a Guard although it was futile.
Tension emanated from Remiel in concentric rings like the plunk of a stone in a pond, and for a moment Saraquael wished he could do for her as a
Cherub did to a Seraph and absorb al that erratic power.
And then the energy ended like a broken circuit. Remiel slackened into the cushions. Raguel stepped forward, then stopped as Saraquael reached
