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Authors: J. J. Thompson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Teen & Young Adult, #Coming of Age, #Paranormal & Urban

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BOOK: Confronting the Fallen
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My
pleasure.” Janariel said. He held his sword out from his side
at an angle and walked quickly through the gate.

Chapter
13

Chris
watched as Janariel disappeared into the night. I can't just stand
here, he thought. I have to know what to expect if my turn ever
comes. If I join them, that is, was his following thought. He started
to walk toward the gate and stopped abruptly as Mr. McKenna stepped
in front of him.


Where
are you going, Mr. Wright?” he asked sternly. “It would
be unwise to expose yourself to the dangers beyond the walls.”

Chris
looked up at him and frowned. “My friend is about to get into a
fight. Someday soon I may have to do the same. I need to know what
we're up against. Can you understand that?”

The
man stared at him for a long moment, then stepped aside.


Yes,
I believe I can.” He smiled crookedly. “Besides, I don't
have any authority over you, Mr. Wright. Judge Hawkes has made that
abundantly clear.”


He
has?” Chris said, feeling a bit thick. “Um, oh. Okay.
Well, thanks sir. See you soon.” And with that he hurried
across the yard.

Chris
passed the group of guards, all of whom watched him intently but made
no move to stop him. Several nodded and he waved and hurried on.

Once
he was out on the wide, grassy lawn that stretched a hundred yards or
more to the edge of the forest, Chris stopped and stared.

Janariel
was still advancing, moving more slowly now, toward a spot in the
middle of the clearing that the dogs were circling; baying and
growling. A light shone from the center of the circle. It was very
bright against the darkness. Similar to the silver light given off by
the angels, it was tinged with red and yellow, the color of a bruise.
It looked sickly and diseased.

Within
the pulsing light stood a figure that towered over Janariel. Its form
wavered and undulated, not remaining solid for more than a few
seconds at a time. It flapped like an old sheet in the wind, but the
air was still and cold. Even the sound that Chris could hear wavered
and changed pitch and strength; now a wail of anger and then changing
to a scream of rage. It was the most horrible thing he had ever
experienced.

Janariel
stopped a dozen yards away from it and Chris heard him call off the
dogs and send them back to the house. They retreated, barking and
growling in protest as they passed Chris and ran back through the
gate. And then the angel that was his friend stood alone.


You
shall go no further, Fallen One,” Janariel called out to the
thing. “This house and its inhabitants are under my protection.
Go back to Hell and leave this world in peace.”

The
creature gave out a shivering laugh, like nails screeching across a
chalkboard. It did not answer but from somewhere it drew out a long
pole with a jagged blade affixed to the end. The blade dripped some
sort of thick, crimson liquid.

Suddenly
the wraith lifted its weapon. The light that it was emitting flared
even brighter and Chris flinched away from it, feeling a wave of deep
cold that left him with frost on his eyelashes. His breath fogged the
air in front of him and it felt like he was standing outside in the
middle of winter. He shivered violently.

With
a quick, darting movement almost too fast to see, the monster leaped
toward Janariel and swung its weapon in a shrieking arc at the
angel's head.

Janariel
calmly stepped back and brought his sword up, countering the blow.
Sparks flew from the impact and he staggered slightly, but
immediately recovered and stood still again, awaiting the next
attack.

This
happened several times in a row. Each time, the wraith screamed its
rage when its attack was countered. Janariel said nothing; he simply
waited passively to parry each attack.

Chris
wondered when Janariel would counter-attack. He was no expert, but
there were several instances when he was sure he saw an opening that
Janariel could have used to hit the wraith. But he didn't. He was
confused by the angel's lack of aggression. How was he supposed to
beat the thing if he wouldn't hit it?

The
cold was making him shudder and now a stench of putrescence was thick
in the air, as if the more the wraith fought, the more it was rotting
and decomposing. Chris felt his stomach roil as he tried not to
vomit.

'Chris,'
he heard someone say and turned around quickly. Except for the angel
and the demon, there was no one in sight. Had Janariel called him?
No, he was focused entirely on his foe.

'Chris,'
he heard it again. And then he realized that he wasn't hearing it
with his ears; it was coming from inside of him.

'Sariel?'
he asked silently. 'Is that you?'

'Indeed
it is. We have a problem. Janariel cannot win this battle. He will
soon exhaust his human host and then the wraith will win.'

'What?
What are you talking about? He's doing fine.' Chris watched as
Janariel blocked the wraith yet again.

'No,
he is not. Janariel is young as angels go, and while Jacob has had
some training, he has no experience. So all they are doing is
blocking. Janariel is inhibited. He does not want to inflict pain on
another, not even an enemy like this. Jacob is frankly terrified and
is following Janariel's lead. It will get them killed.'

Chris
swallowed nervously. He watched Janariel more closely and realized
that he could hear him panting with exertion. His arm was still
steady but he did seem to be slowing, his counter-strikes not as
crisp and powerful as they were earlier.

'I
have to do something!' Chris said to Sariel. 'I can get the guards,
or the dogs. Both! I can get both.'

'They
cannot harm a Fallen One, Chris. The two undead they destroyed were
just corpses reanimated by damned souls. This is a fallen angel. And
it is older than Janariel, experienced and filled with a vicious
hatred. They will all try to help, of course, but the only thing they
will accomplish is to die bravely.'

'Okay,
then I'll get some of the others with angelic souls from the house.'
Chris actually turned toward the Nest before Sariel's voice stopped
him.

'The
house is locked down, Chris. By the time you get in, this battle will
be over.'

Chris
watched, appalled, as the wraith swung yet again at Janariel. The
angel blocked again but this time, as quick as thought, the monster
reversed its weapon and slammed the blunt end across Janariel's body.

Janariel
flew back and rolled away from the wraith, his wings held tightly to
his body. Then he sprang to his feet and stood again, waiting.

'You
see, he is tiring. Time is running out, Chris. Something must be done
and soon.'

'What
can I do? I can't hurt that thing,' Chris thought frantically.

'I
can, Christopher. This is your time of choice, my other half. I am
sorry that you are in this position, but if you want my help, then
you must choose. Put on the ring and we can stop that creature, now.
Or do not and watch your friend die. Know though that only Jacob's
mortal body will die. He and Janariel will be reunited in spirit and
returned to Heaven, so there is that thought to comfort you.'

'Comfort
me?' Chris was furious. 'He's my friend. I don't give a damn about
his spirit. I want him to live!' He continued to watch the battle.
Janariel was now backing away from the wraith, blocking attacks and
trying to keep his distance. Chris noticed that he was limping
slightly.

'But
we don't have your sword. Didn't you say your powers are limited
without it?'

'Yes,
but they are more than strong enough to deal with this creature,'
Sariel answered, his tone scornful.

Chris
pulled the ring out of his pocket, the fabric tearing as he worked it
out quickly. He stared down at its jagged edges. It gleamed and
flared in the nauseous light of the wraith. It looked even more
dangerous in this light. Then Chris looked up as he heard a cry from
Janariel. He gasped.

Janariel
was pushing himself up to his feet again. His sword had fallen from
his grasp for the first time and he picked it up and held it weakly
as he stood. A chilling laughter emanated from the wraith as it
slowly stalked the angel, obviously enjoying its approaching victory.

I
can't let him die, Chris thought frantically. I've never really had
friends and now I've just found Jake and Ty. Am I supposed to stand
here and watch him be slaughtered? No, I will not.

'And
who will be in control if I put on this ring, Sariel? Will I be your
puppet? The truth, please.'

'You
are the captain of this ship, your body, Chris. In battle, I will
take control, but only until you have learned enough to use our
powers effectively. But you command me, always. I give you my word
that this is the truth.'

The
wraith was sidling after Janariel, who was obviously weakening. There
wasn't much time left.

Chris
took a deep breath. “So be it,” he said aloud and shoved
the jagged piece of metal on to the middle finger of his right hand.

He
felt the flesh on his finger tear as he pushed the ring on as far as
it would go. A momentary flash of pain and then he watched in awe as
the flesh healed and the pain vanished.

'Okay,
Chris,' Sariel said. 'Here we go.'

Chris
was a passenger in his own body again. But this time, he could feel
everything. From deep inside, he felt a wave of power shoot through
his body, starting in his chest and then racing outward into his arms
and legs. He was suddenly as tall as Janariel, his body stretched and
filled out, muscles swelling. From below his shoulder-blades he felt
wings sprout, expand and lift up high above him. And he knew sadness
as one of them dropped to drag on the ground behind him. A throbbing
pain, minor but continuous, burned down his face and Chris knew it
was from the wounds inflicted by the devil.

He
wore no armor, unlike his first transformation. Instead, long gray
robes covered him. Chris felt Sariel take control and, for the
moment, he allowed it.

Sariel
strode forward just as the wraith swung its weapon over its head,
ready for a devastating blow. Janariel had his sword ready but his
arm was shaking as he tried to hold the blade high enough to parry
the strike.


Stop,
demon,” Sariel called. “Turn and face me, if you are not
too cowardly.”

The
creature froze for an instant and then whipped around with a shriek
of rage. It stood looking down at Sariel as he approached.

There
was an almost face in the middle of the putrid light and the
ever-changing shape of the body. The eyes were two pits of fire but
they seemed to widen as the monster sized up this new opponent.


Is
it a new kind of angel toy they have sent against me?” it
screeched as if talking to itself. “This other was no fun. No
challenge. I will eat it and then deal with you, little toy.”

The
wraith turned back toward Janariel who was trying to stay on his
feet. He's going to kill him anyway, Chris thought frantically.

'No,
he is not,' Sariel replied silently. “Hold, coward! Have you
sunk so low that you forget your noble beginnings? How your master
must glow with pride at his servant's cowardly ways.”

Quick
as a whip's lash, the demon turned again. “You dare mention my
great master? You, some lowly, nameless servant of a cowardly God?
Very well. I shall devour you first and save the little one for
dessert. It matters not.” And the wraith slithered and slid
toward them.

Chris
realized something suddenly. 'Um, Sariel? You have no weapon. How can
you fight against that thing's blade?'

Again,
Sariel's tone was full of contempt. 'Against one of my brother's
lieutenants, I would indeed need my sword, Chris. But I have a power
that only one of the firstborn can wield. And in this battle, it will
suffice.'

The
wraith towered over them, its hideous light almost blinding Chris. It
raised the dripping blade over its head and readied for a tremendous
blow that Chris was sure would cut him in half.

And
then it hesitated as Sariel spoke again. “Before you strike,
poor servant of a fallen traitor, don't you want to know who it is
you mean to kill?”

It
lowered the weapon. “Who I kill? What does it matter to me? You
are simply one simpering servant from the vast host of weaklings that
call themselves angels.” It laughed chillingly. “Angels!
There are no angels now except for us, the Fallen. And we will rise
again, to rule over you all. All that are left after our unholy war,
that is. Which will not be many, I don't doubt.”


Ah,
Fallen and stupid. Look closely. Use your powers to do more than
animate a corpse, fool.”

The
wraith snarled but its glare seemed to grow more intense. Chris
watched the red eyes flicker from his face to the broken wing that
drooped behind him and then back to his face again. And then the
monster seemed to darken somewhat, and diminish in size. It moved
back with a jerk.

BOOK: Confronting the Fallen
10.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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