Apocalypse Rising (19 page)

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Authors: Eric Swett

Tags: #death, #Magic, #god, #demons, #Fantasy, #Angels, #urban fantasy

BOOK: Apocalypse Rising
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"I am pretty sure we have a few less people following us now," she says.

"We were lucky," I say. "The man prayed before he was going to hit us. Sometime recently I had touched him with the Power, so I heard his prayer and it gave me enough warning to get us clear." The driver is a good man, not an innocent, but he is bound for Heaven when his time comes. A little positive energy channeled in his direction kept him safe from the wreck. I hope that the loss of his cab will not hurt him in the end.

"Well we wanted to draw attention to ourselves," Accantha says. "I would say you managed that." Accantha laughs. "I have not seen an Angel take flight before. It is pretty impressive."

"You should have seen us back in the days before man," I say as I climb higher into the sky. "Hundreds of us descended from Heaven to fight the Darkness, or to search out the hidden places in the world." I remember the times fondly. I was carefree and my duties were pleasant. I ensured the cycle of life came to its proper conclusion and defended Heaven and earth from their enemies with joy. "It was breathtaking."

“I was still very young when the humans began their journey, and I have walked with Angels before, but I’ve never seen one reveal itself, not in ten-thousand years.” Accantha is silent for a moment, then asks, “Why now?”

“I’m not sure exactly, but it felt right. I have learned to trust my instincts lately,” I say.

“Since when have Angels developed instincts?” she asks.

I think about it and shrug. “We have always had some instincts. It is impossible to fight the Darkness without them, but they have always been limited, more of a base reaction than a gut feeling, if that makes any sense." I spread my wings, and glide along with the wind. I let it carry me closer to Father Gabriel's church. "When I took human form I started to feel things, a sense of danger or curiosity, and I discovered that when I trusted those feelings good things happened. I don't know if my intuition will go away now that I have returned to my true form, but I'll trust it as long as I have it.”

I close my eyes for a moment and revel in the feel of the sun upon my outstretched wings. I love it, but I know that it is temporary. I can sense the gathering darkness. I could feel it the moment I returned, but I did not want to worry Gloriana. Rebellion is in the air, and there will be little time to enjoy the finer things.

I veer in the direction of the church. “There it is,” I say.

“What? Where are we going?” Accantha asks.

“A church; over there,” I say as I motion with my head.”

“The small one?” Accantha asks as she follows my gaze. “It seems like an odd place to start.”

“I left her there,” I say. “I thought she would be safer in the arms of the church than with me.”

“You haven’t been in touch with the church for some time have you?” she asks. “They are no longer the sacred places of the past. They are often as much a business as they are a place of worship. The Catholics at the height of their power had nothing on some of the churches of today. Corruption runs deep and is covered in the robes of piety.”

“I had no idea,” I say. “My focus was on the people around me. Until recently I avoided the church and prayer. I felt abandoned and did not want to seek Him in His house.”

“Gloriana always told me that He does not abandon us, but we abandon him.”

The words are a slap to the face. I know the truth of her words, and I am guilty of forgetting such an important lesson. “She is right. I wish I had been blessed with her wisdom long ago. Thank you for reminding me. I have been—.”

“Human.”

I laugh. “Yes, human.”

As we get closer to Father Gabriel’s church, I sense something different. A shield of magic surrounds the church, creating a void to my senses. It reminds me of the barrier around my memories that kept me from remembering Lilly. “Something is wrong, Accantha. There is a shield around the church.”

“Is it physical?” she asks.

“I don’t believe so,” I say. “It appears to be hiding something, nothing more.”

“Then let’s go take a look shall we,” she says.

“You just want to get back on the ground,” I say as we slowly wheel our way downward.

“The thought crossed my mind,” she says with a laugh. “I much prefer to face my enemies with the earth beneath my feet and a sword in my hand.”

I drop her while still six-feet above the sidewalk and she lands expertly. My own landing displays less grace as I am forced to run a number of steps before I come to a halt. I draw my wings back inside myself with a shudder. It is unnatural for an Angel to hide its wings, and the feel of it comes close to pain. I shake it off before Accantha comes close.

“Not that I dislike the bare-chested, rippling muscles look,” she says, “but you probably shouldn’t go into the church wearing nothing but a pair of pants and my old backpack.”

“You may be right, but I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me,” I say.

“Can’t you use the Power to whip something up?” she asks.

I shake my head and say, “It doesn’t work that way I’m afraid. Creation is the purview of the Father. I can manipulate the matter of this world, change it or destroy it, but I may not create it.” It is a frustrating restriction, but I understand it. The universe needs order, and boundaries are the creators of order. “Shirtless might be a better choice than walking into the church wearing armor, but I suppose I shall have to risk it.” I pull off the pack and pull out the elf-crafted armor. The links are cool against my body, but it does not pinch or pull, even without a shirt beneath it. “I could really get used to this.”

Accantha smiles and says, “Let’s hope that you don’t have to.” She steps past me and walks toward the church that is a half mile further down the road.

I look at the sword and consider strapping it on, but I am not yet willing to bear arms within the church, so I leave it in the scabbard, strapped to the side of the pack upon my back. I catch up to the elf woman before we are half way there. We look upon the church and the void colors its appearance in my mind.

"I can't believe I would have been so blind as to miss the shield the last time I was here," I say.

"I don't think you were," Accantha says with a sniff. "The magic smells new, no more than a couple of days old." She looks up at me. "Given what Gloriana told me, I think it went up soon after you left this place." She looks back at the church and asks, "this girl, Lilly, what does she mean to you?"

"She's a friend," I say automatically. It would be improper for her to be anything more. "She was with me when I started running and I could not abandon her. A very nasty human named Albert would have tortured her before killing her." I sneer at the thought of Albert. "He is an animal, the worst aspects of man brought together in one body. He is smart and good at covering his tracks. I tried for years to catch him with something I could go to the police with, but I never had any proof until that night when we stumbled upon him killing a woman.”

The image of Albert skinning that girl alive crashes to the forefront of my thoughts and I stop in my tracks. I have seen many terrible things in my time, but there was something particularly horrific about what he did to her. His smile mocked her pain as she screamed and begged. It awakened something in me, a recognition that I could not place at the time, but my revival gave me the clarity to remember. “He was sacrificing her,” I whisper.

“What are you talking about?” Accantha asks as she stops her march to the church and walks back to me.

“Albert, the man who killed the woman the other night, he wasn’t just killing her; he was sacrificing her as part of a ritual.” I search my memories for the knife I saw him wield, the incantations he was mumbling, and I realize what it was he was trying to do. “He was performing a summoning.”

Accantha stops before me. “What? What was he summoning?” she asks.

“Death,” I whisper. “He was trying to summon me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Accantha asks what I am talking about, but I do not answer. If I am right about the ritual, then Lilly is in a lot more trouble than I could have imagined. I pull the sword from the scabbard tied to my pack and run toward the church. I hear my companion running behind me, somehow managing to keep pace, and it is a relief to have her with me. Traditionally I have worked alone and have rarely sought out the assistance of anyone, but that does not mean I do not appreciate the company and the safety of numbers.

"Accantha, how does the elf fascination with magic work exactly?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"You told me that elves see magic and that its beauty enthralls you. I saw it happen to Julius,” I say. “What I want to know is, does the magic have to be active, or does passive magic have the same effect?”

“Okay, I think I understand,” she says. “Active magic can mesmerize, while passive magic is more of a distraction than anything.”

“So when we get close to the shield around the church…” I let the thought hang for her. I had not considered the risks of Accantha’s exposure to magic, and it should have been at the front of my mind given we had already faced one wizard today.

“Don’t worry,” she says, “I’ll be able to ignore it for the most part. I am pretty good when it comes to magic. All of those years forging weapons and armor taught me how to focus amidst distraction.”

I smile at her and say, “Good, because we are here.” One more step forward and the shield becomes visible to me. It is a shimmering, pale yellow the shade of early spring daffodils, and it swirls through the air, distorting the church behind it. I look to Accantha and find her staring forward with a grimace on her face.

“It is beautiful,” she says. “It has been too long since I have seen magic on such a grand scale.” She shakes her head and blinks a few times. “I’m okay.”

We step up to the wall and I consider using my will to probe it and discern the creator, but I push the idea aside. My friend is held within and it does not matter to me who made the shield. All that matters is getting her out before Albert can get his hands on her. “Are you ready?” I ask.

“No,” she says, “but there is no sense waiting for it to go away on its own.” She looks up at me and nods.

I turn back to the shield and step through.

The sensation is not unlike falling through the ice of a frozen lake. Pain pierces my body as if a thousand needles of pure ice are pushed into my flesh from all directions simultaneously. I want to scream, but I am afraid that opening my mouth will cause me to drown in the cold. The shield should be no thicker than a sheet of paper, yet I can sense my legs moving forward systematically, forcing me through the treacherous shield.

When I emerge on the other side, I find that I have traveled only a single pace from where I stood before walking into the shield. Sweat drips from my body and tears stream down my face. I am humbled and made nervous by the power of the spell. Again, I sense the presence of the Light, the holy power of Heaven itself, woven into the wall that was meant to hold me back.

Accantha stands beside me, concern etched on her features. “Are you okay?” she asks. “It took you a while to get through and it looked like it hurt.”

“It didn’t hurt you?” I ask as I regain my composure.

“No. In fact, if I hadn’t seen it there, I wouldn’t have known it existed at all for all of the trouble it gave me.” She grabs my elbow and pulls me away from the wall of magical energy. “I don’t think it would be a good thing if you fell back into it, even on accident.”

I let her take me away from the barrier and shake my head. "I don't like this, Accantha. I think they're expecting me."

"Who is?"

"I'm not sure. I thought it might be Albert, but he is not a Blessed or an Angel, and I doubt any would be willing to consort with him," I say. "That leaves only a handful of others on this plain that could create the shield, and I wouldn't count any of them as enemies."

"Well," says Accantha, "either one of them considers you an enemy, or there is someone new involved." She is silent as we start walking toward the church's front doors. "I'm not sure which would be worse."

"Someone new," I say a little too quickly. Accantha looks at me questioningly. "At least I know the others."

We walk the rest of the way in silence. When we reach the carved wooden doors I look them over, checking for traps both physical and magical. My fingers trace over the details with care, seeking patterns hidden to the eye, but I find nothing. I push open the doors and step into the cool interior with the elf warrior at my side.

I am grateful that the chapel is empty. I do not want to scare any of the Faithful, and I imagine the appearance of an eight-foot tall man wearing armor and wielding a sword would frighten most people. There are people within the church somewhere. I can sense them now that I am inside the shield, but there is more magic at work, distorting my senses and keeping me from locating Lilly. “Be careful, there is magic at work here.”

“Yeah, I can feel it too,” she says. “It is everywhere, but nowhere specific.” She sniffs the air before asking, “It’s not the church itself is it?”

I focus my will and carefully spread my senses about the building. I feel the familiar warmth of the sanctified earth beneath the church, but the icy tendrils of the Power throb and writhe about the walls of the building. I almost release my focus when something catches my attention, a movement that flashes from shadow to shadow, but disappears the moment I try to focus on it. I wish my memories were intact, so the niggling sensation of something familiar could identify itself. I try once more to catch the movement out of the corner of my eye, but there is nothing more.

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