Angel Of Solace (9 page)

But right now, that was neither here nor there. It only took her a few minutes to make it down to the third deck, and by the time she got there, Kronn and Shyrah were “escorting” a very annoyed overweight man along with them. 

“Our friend here isn’t feeling well,” Shyrah said with a thin smirk. “Too bad—he’ll miss the whole game.”

“We can watch it on the Net when we get him back home,” Kronn grunted. “Let’s go.”

Sariel fell into step with them and eyed the slaver for a long moment, noting the point of the shock stick Kronn had subtlety pushed into his back as insurance. She briefly reached out and brushed against Eche’s thoughts…he definitely seemed irritated, but not as surprised as she expected he would be. It was disconcerting, but there was nothing they could do about it now. She couldn’t push any farther without turning into a torch again, and that would destroy any semblance of anonymity they still had.

“Just make sure you behave,” she warned him.

Esche snorted but said nothing. The quartet continued on, making their way down the stadium towards the exit.

***

Avrick casually drifted off to the side of the second deck walkway that spiraled around the outside of the arena. With the competition heating up, most people were seated, leaving the actual corridors barren outside of a few stragglers. It was exactly what they wanted; it would minimize the need to incapacitate any civilians, and that was no trifling concern. With politics being what they were, and current relations with the Elassian government so tepid, the Covenant wanted to walk as lightly as they could. The revolution would come soon enough, the priests promised, and then everything would be different.

Taking a deep breath, Avrick positioned himself next to a steel support column and waited. Vaelen would signal when their quarry was approaching, and then he would close the trap. Without the sentries to warn them, the fallen angel and her companions would have no warning of the impending assault and should be easy prey.

Sariel.

For probably the hundredth time today, he had to hold back the deluge of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. Had he actually witnessed the atrocities the priests accused her of, it would have been easier. He could have made a clean emotional break and committed to this course as much out of personal vengeance as the Covenant’s desire to recover a missing sheep.

But he hadn’t witnessed it, and that was the whole problem. He had caught the priests lying before when it suited their purposes, and he didn’t doubt their willingness to do so now. The question was whether or not it would stop him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag with blue powder in it. Angel dust, they called it, an addictive and potentially lethal substance that had nevertheless been a tool of the Chosen for decades. It sharpened the mind and reflexes, but it also had the beneficial side effect of making one’s thoughts harder to read for Demons—and even Angels. They were supposed to take some before Sariel got close, and he decided now was as good a time as any. Perhaps it would help him focus.

Avrick quickly checked to make sure he was alone before inhaling a portion of the dust. Almost mechanically, he put the powder away and reached into his other pocket to brush against the palm-sized pistol resting there. His vision blurred for a few seconds, and he let himself relax. Soon the clarity would come, and then with any luck all of this would be over…

“They’ve picked up Esche,” Vaelen said into his ear. “They’re en route now.”

“Have we spotted any other sentries?”

“No, but she’s with him, three in total. Wait for my move.”

Avrick nodded even though his partner couldn’t see it. His palms were sweaty, and he waited for a few civilians to pass by before doing another quick visual inspection to make sure everything was in order.

The minutes passed, and finally four individuals walked around the corner. Esche was in the lead, his usual smugness temporarily absent from his face. He was flanked by a man and a woman Avrick didn’t recognize, but just off to one side was a familiar pale face framed by white hair…

Avrick leaned back behind the pillar and placed a hand on his pistol. Two civilian couples were currently walking in either direction, and he wasn’t going to be able to avoid them. But they hardly even registered to him—all he could see now was Sara’s face.

You are the Hands of God,
the voice of the High Priest rang in his head.
You are martyrs to His cause, those who willfully exchange their immortal souls for a chance to serve. In bearing weapons against His children, you are damned. In destroying His enemies, you are saved. You are the soldiers of the Lord, the weapons of his will, the Chosen of the Covenant.

Shots rang through the arena, and Avrick swung around the pillar, pistol in hand. Vaelen had already fired several times, and both of Esche’s flankers had taken hits. Sariel pivoted about towards his partner, dropping into a crouch. The civilians screamed and froze in terror. Avrick had the perfect shot, and with one pull of his finger, it would all be over.

He leveled his gun at Sariel’s back.

***

The crowd boomed as they crossed to the second deck; apparently something important had happened in the game. Sariel did her best to ignore it and keep her senses alert. It wasn’t likely Esche had any backup out here—at least, none that Kronn and the others would have missed—but it was always possible. She stretched out her mind as much as she could without drawing attention to herself and continued onward.

And then it happened. There was no warning. None whatsoever. One instant they were walking casually across the corridor, and in the next Kronn was screaming. He had already crumpled when she spun about on a heel and fell into a crouch. She couldn’t sense any overt hostility in the minds of those around them, and her eyes flashed around desperately trying to pinpoint the source of the attack—

A second shot dropped Shyrah, and the woman barely even yelped before she fell over. A third shot managed to pelt a civilian who had screamed and unwittingly dashed right into the line of fire, and it gave Sariel the chance she needed.  She saw the assailant now, a tall, darkly dressed figure leaning out from one of the support columns, pistol in hand. She had no time to think, but she didn’t need to. The angelic spirit had tasted her fear, and once again the full force of its power washed over her. 

A gleaming silvery radiance enshrouded her like a second cloak. The other straggling spectators all seemed to gasp at once, awed and terrified by the sight of an Angel in person, but her concentration was focused squarely upon her attacker. Her mind became an instrument of raw force; with little more than a thought, she grasped onto the attacker’s body with a telekinetic grasp, wrenching his weapon from his hand despite being almost twenty meters away. With a second thought she hurled him against a nearby wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.

It wasn’t over and she knew it. From behind she felt the muted panic of a second hostile mind intent upon harming them all. She twirled around and watched as Esche sprinted away at full bore, but he wasn’t the one she felt. No, there was another…her eyes eventually found him, a dark figure not so different from the first, gun already leveled in her direction.

He wasn’t firing. She hesitated, stricken flat-footed by his inaction—and then she caught a familiar thought. Concealed behind a shadowy cowl, she couldn’t see the man’s face, but she didn’t need to.

“Avrick?” she gasped.

His gun wavered, but she suddenly understood why she hadn’t sensed their hostility earlier. They were Chosen, and that meant they would have inhaled angel dust. It also meant that after six months of relative safety, the Covenant had finally found her.

And they were going to capture her.

Or they would have if he had fired—but he still hadn’t. Staring at him now, with the full might of her powers brought to bear, she could sift past some of the haze of the angel dust; she could feel the fear inside him, the doubt and worry that were paralyzing his muscles. The part of him that knew her—the part of him that was her friend—was resisting. But it wouldn’t last forever, and they both knew it.

Stretching out her powers again, Sariel plucked the gun from his grip. He froze, and his mind seemed to catch up with what was happening. It made a decision:
this isn’t the woman you knew. She is a traitor.

The word seared in her mind. She wanted to tell him everything, to explain all she had learned. He was an intelligent man; he would understand. He might even join with them given time.

But they didn’t have any, and that was the problem. The Covenant would have others nearby, and they would be bearing down upon the Asurans even now. They needed to get out of here while they still could.

Sariel hurled Avrick against a wall. It was as gentle an effort as she could muster, but she had to make it hard enough that he wouldn’t get back up. He grunted as he smacked into the concrete and then the floor, and she extended her powers to both Chosen, pinning them helplessly to the ground with her mind. She glanced down to her companions.

They were nearly unconscious. She knew the toxin favored by the Covenant and how to counter it, though, and she placed one hand on each of them. With practiced ease, the Angel sapped the poison from their veins and closed their wounds. Within moments, both were almost fully alert. 

“What…?” Kronn gasped.

 “We have to go,” she ordered. “Now.” She helped him to his feet and glanced around the area. The spectators were all pressed against the ground gaping at her. The two Chosen were still pinned and reeling, and Esche was just gone. As the intensity of the moment faded, her reason caught up with her instincts, and she understood what had just happened. This had all been a setup—a setup designed to capture her. And in the process, she had nearly gotten all of these people hurt or killed.

 “Come on,” she said, breaking into a full run. When they rounded the corner to the last level, she withdrew her mind from the spirit inside her, praying she wouldn’t get a repeat of how it had overwhelmed her earlier…

But no, this time it let go willingly, and soon they were making their way past the stadium gates and back out into the city. A city which no longer felt as safe as it had even an hour ago.

“We’ve been hit, Corin,” Shyrah was saying. “Get the hell out of there—it was a setup.”

“A…what?”

“Just get out,” Kronn ordered. “Esche is gone, and we have a new problem.”

No, Sariel thought to herself, not a new problem. She had been their biggest problem ever since she arrived. She had convinced Kronn she knew something of value, and he had been risking his entire organization to help her. Now the Covenant had finally found her, and none of them would be safe.

Her thoughts turned to Damien, to the one poor sap whose life they had saved only to drag him into an even worse fate. And if it turned out he couldn’t help her in the first place…

Then all of this had been for nothing. And instead of helping these people, she would have damned them all.

Chapter Seven

After many hours spent watching action holos and reading spy novels as a child at the Agency, Damien had certain expectations for the life of a revolutionary. Lots of guns and explosions, car chases through the streets, and unending accolades—including the affections of many beautiful women—awaited the hero when his cause was finally achieved.

He didn’t really believe things would be like that, of course, but a few hours spent at the Asuran base had cured him of any lingering fantasies.

That wasn’t to say it was a horrible experience. The people were social and generally seemed interested in where he came from and what he knew about his abilities. The inter-locking houses, while rustic and under furnished, were clean and comfortable. Well-placed traps and poison kept out the vermin, and in lieu of windows—since most were boarded or otherwise sealed—scattered temperature control units kept things temperate. 

What shook him the most was not the living conditions, though, but rather the people themselves. He had run from the Agency because he could no longer tolerate being a slave, and yet, compared to these people, his life had been one of luxury. Nearly all of them had been abandoned by their families, and some had been sold directly into slavery by their own parents. They had lived their entire lives in poverty on the streets—some as petty thieves, others as prostitutes, and almost all as beggars at one point or another. While they all considered themselves fortunate not to have been snatched by the Covenant, some admitted they had debated giving themselves over in the darker moments in their lives.

And here he was, a man who had shared minds with generally attractive and upper class women for almost a decade, with the audacity to think his situation had been anywhere as bad as them. The guilt grew worse the longer he spoke with them, but if any of them were indignant about it, they didn’t show it. That might have been what struck him most of all. They were unified, far more than any group of people he had ever known. As outcasts, they shared a special identity. As Demons, they shared a common goal. They spoke well of each other, and they all seemed to believe Kronn was doing his best to keep them safe.

They also believed that Sariel was their savior. Some of the older Asurans pointed out how miserable their conditions had been before Kronn, a legitimate physician, had arrived. But regardless of his skill and knowledge, he was still one man limited by his equipment and supplies, which were often meager at best. An Angel was something else entirely. Most of the others claimed they had borne brutal wounds and scars their entire lives, only to have them whisked away by Sariel’s touch. Many owed her their lives.

So did he, of course, though he didn’t really say it. He mostly let the others talk and just tried to fit in as best he could during the afternoon meal. Eventually one of the men signaled that there was a problem, and the entire base seemed to leap into action.

Damien did his best to stay out of the way. From the various bits of conversation he picked up, it appeared Kronn and the others had been ambushed somehow but were on their way home. He wondered if any of them were hurt, and for some reason found himself annoyed that he hadn’t gone along. It was a foolish regret; he was no warrior, and his skills were largely useless outside of the bedroom.

Ten minutes later, the team arrived. It was just three of them at first, but a few minutes later Corin and two others, strained and out-of-breath, joined them. It took awhile for the excitement and confusion to die down, and eventually Kronn waved them over into his office. Damien was surprised when Sariel grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him along.

“So what the hell happened?” Shyrah asked tartly, hands on her hips on the right side of the office. Corin was seated in front of Kronn’s desk, and Sariel stood in the other corner, arms folded across her chest.

“A setup, obviously,” Corin replied. “Esche must have known—”

“Not you,” Shyrah interrupted, glaring across the room. “Her. You recognized them. Why didn’t you sense them coming? I thought you people could do that.”

Sariel didn’t move or even twitch. She just stood there calmly, her eyes closed and her breathing slow. “Normally, yes,” the Angel murmured. “But they were Chosen.”

“So they inhaled angel dust,” Kronn reasoned, gesturing for Shyrah to take a seat. She didn’t.

“I think I’m missing something,” Corin said. “What does that mean?”

Kronn shifted in his seat. “Ostensibly, they’re the soldiers of the Covenant and the only ones allowed to bear arms. Most of the time they follow around Angels or priests as guardians, but they’re also used as Demon hunters, for lack of a better term.”

“The Agency feared them the most,” Damien added softly. “Few people ever actually see an Angel, but the Chosen were supposed to be everywhere, just waiting to pounce on any Demons that revealed themselves.”

“Yeah, I know what Chosen are,” Corin told them, “but what is this dust stuff? And why would they be here? I didn’t think they left the mainland.”

“The dust is a mild hallucinogen, and it has the side effect of making it difficult for telepaths to read their thoughts,” Kronn explained. “Chosen normally inhale to protect themselves against Demons when they’re on a hunt.”

“I knew them,” Sariel whispered, her eyes still closed. “They were from my temple.”

When the silence lingered for more than a few seconds, Shyrah raised an eyebrow. “Is that it? Do we get to share in the details?”

Sariel opened her eyes. “One is Vaelen Osland. He’s well-respected and very experienced. The other is Avrick Torgain. He was…a friend.”

Kronn eyed her meaningfully. “And you think that’s why he didn’t shoot you?”

“I know that’s why he didn’t,” she said. “He could have had us all, but he didn’t.” She sighed softly. “They will punish him for this. I can’t even imagine how…”

“I know my heart’s breaking,” Shyrah grumbled. “The question is how they found us in the first place.”

Corin grunted. “Well, like I started to say, obviously Esche knew about it, so we were definitely right about his gang’s connection to the Covenant. When we took out Beren, he probably assumed we’d be going for him next.” He shrugged. “Maybe he made an offer to one of the local priests, some type of mutual pact to take us on.”

“No,” Sariel said, shaking her head. “The Chosen wouldn’t be here if they didn’t already have a plan. They knew I was here, and they knew I was helping the Asurans.”

“Which isn’t much of a stretch given how long you’ve been here,” Kronn added. “And we knew Beren had been making deals with the local Covenant agents. This isn’t as surprising as it seems at first glance.” He turned to Corin. “That leak you got on Esche—we have to assume it was intentional.”

“I’ve already thought about that,” Corin said grimly. “They must know about our wiretap. I don’t know how they pulled that off and kept it quiet.”

Kronn let out a heavy sigh and pursed his lips. “For now we need to focus on the base. They probably don’t know we’re here, but there’s no reason to take our chances.” He turned and faced Damien, who almost seemed forgotten amongst this new crisis. “I have to apologize for the mess you walked into, but that’s the reality of life here.”

Damien nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you all made it out safely.”

Kronn smiled tiredly. “Look, I’ll just be frank: I was hoping to give you a few days to acclimate yourself here and make a decision, but I don’t think we’re going to have that luxury. It will take at least a day of double shifts to get most of our heavy equipment moved, and then another two to deal with the lingering supplies. It’s not exactly going to be a great social time.”

“I understand,” Damied told him. “But I don’t need any more time. I’m not really sure this is the permanent life for me, but I will help Sara if I can.”

Sariel turned towards him abruptly, her eyes glinting in the dim light. “No, not yet.”

Shyrah glanced between them quickly. “Help her? Help her do what? What are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain later,” Kronn soothed. “For now—”

“No,” the woman insisted, stepping in front of Damien and tossing him a firm glare. “Now. I’m sick of this secrecy bullshit. What are you
really
here for, pretty boy?”

 “There’s too much of a risk,” Sariel whispered.

“A risk of what?” Shyrah demanded. “Someone better start making sense before I start shooting out the damn walls.”

“As much as I hate to agree with little miss sunshine,” Corin said, “someone really needs to let us in. Boss?”

Kronn’s jaw clenched, and he glanced to the Angel. She was staring down at her hands, almost as if she didn’t recognize them. “She may know secrets about the Covenant,” he said softly. “Damien may be able to help her recover them.”

“Secrets?” Shyrah asked, the fire in her blue eyes fading for a moment. “Secrets like what?”

“We’re not sure—that’s part of the problem,” Kronn explained, not exactly truthfully. “But we think a Demon with real telepathic ability like an Incubus might be able to connect with the spirit inside her and coax out some information. Normally anything like that would do serious damage to her, but in Damien’s case…”

“I have a light touch,” Damien said.

Shyrah’s eyes narrowed as they bored into him. “And that’s what this is all about?”

“More or less,” Kronn murmured. “We won’t know more until he tries.” He turned to face Sariel. “And I think if he’s willing, there won’t be a better time.”

The Angel lowered her hands and looked at each of the others before stopping at Damien. “You need to know everything before we begin. I will tell you, and then you can decide.”

Damien nodded. “All right.”

“Use the safe-house on 56th,” Kronn said. “You may as well go now. The rest of us will get started on the move. I’ll check in on you this evening.”

Damien looked at the others, wondering if they would protest further, but they didn’t. Shyrah seemed more or less contented, even slightly taken aback. Corin was obviously curious but remained silent.  

Sariel walked over and touched his hand. His mind flared at the touch of her skin, and he felt all her doubt and apprehension wash over him…but behind it, when she touched him, the smallest glimmer of hope.

“Come,” she beckoned, leading him out into the hall. 

***

The number of Asurans who stayed in the actual base at any given time was small, typically no more than two or three dozen. That being said, the organization had about five hundred official members at this point, and at least triple that number of sympathizers who, if they were running a business, they could consider being “on the payroll.” Not all of them even knew where their headquarters was at any given point, but given how they didn’t want to trust any electronic messaging for a secret this monumental, Kronn had to assign a small team to spread out across the city and deliver the news of their move personally. The rest of the group was already busy packing up their heavier supplies and electronic equipment.

Shyrah was doing neither. Instead, she was glaring at Kronn as he put down his phone after making probably the twentieth call in the last hour. He had managed to brush her aside or ignore her in between each of the others, but that was about to come to an end.

“So what aren’t you telling us?” she growled, throwing herself on the edge of his desk.

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “There were too many risks involved with this kind of information. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

“Appreciate that you didn’t trust me? Or was it Corin?”

“It has nothing to do with either of you,” he insisted firmly, then lowered his voice. His door was closed and the scurrying Asurans outside were making plenty of noise, but he obviously didn’t want to take chances. It only confirmed her suspicions that he knew even more than he was telling them.

“Really,” she said skeptically, “because from where I’m sitting it seems like that’s exactly the problem.”

Kronn bit his lip. “The information she has might allow us to take down the Covenant, Shyrah. All of it. Not overnight, but faster than anything else possibly could.”

“Is that what she told you?”

“Not exactly, but we both agree it is a distinct possibility.” He took a deep breath and took a moment to collect himself. “You understand the Angels. You’ve read over most of my data.”

“I know you think they’re some type of parasite. I also know you can’t prove it because you can’t actually see the things.”