Covenant (32 page)

Thirty-eight

She rode to challenge me. Her fear had turned to determination. But as long as I lived, I would never let Her reign.
—L
UCIFEL

Israfel stared at the incredible vision of Angela Mathers leading a great army of riders straight for him and Lucifel. He had no time to feel grateful or relieved. All he could focus on was Sophia clinging to Angela's waist, and the horrid injury on Angela's face. Deadly determination had set Angela's features like flint.

He pitched beneath the rocking earth, falling to his knees. His hair whipped behind him from the furious wind of the portal.

Lucifel laughed coldly. “Welcome to my kingdom,” she shouted.

With her shadow destroyed, she was weaker than he had ever seen her, but just as icy and hard. Yet because Israfel knew her so well, he could discern the briefest flicker of terror behind Lucifel's eyes now that they stood face-to-face again.

She spoke with forced apathy. “And here I hoped you would see it under better circumstances.” Lucifel's gaze pierced through him as she continued shouting over the portal's fury. “How is the chick inside you, Israfel? Perhaps when I rip it free and show it to the Archon, she'll know you for the monster you are. Someone who is neither male nor female, and who like a sad ghost should have faded away long ago with the rest of his decadent regime. I suppose the Father's blood has been keeping you alive? It's the only good explanation for your survival. But why bother? So you can force the Archon to share your insane hopes for a future you've already destroyed?”

Lucifel turned and looked at Angela with an eager light behind her eyes. “Look at her. She is a worthy opponent for me. Unlike
you
. It can't be coincidence that she shares the Father's features—even his Eye. Raziel was right. You, and he, and I were broken from the same source. Perhaps the Archon was the final piece to make us complete—”

“
Quiet,
” Israfel screamed back at her. He was already infuriated with his weakness in being too late to keep Angela from this horror. He couldn't bear comparing the Archon to a God who no longer existed for them. He couldn't stand the thought of merely being a piece of a broken whole. It brought back too much pain. “
You never did learn to hold your tongue in my presence
. If we are equals now, sister,” he screamed louder, “we are equals only in this: that we are weak, and broken, and can no longer avoid our punishment for letting Raziel die.”

Lucifel stared out at the angel city of Malakhim with even keener hunger. It was the same look on her face as the day she'd watched millions of angels perish for the sake of her twisted ideals. Throughout the War's chaos and bloodshed, Israfel knew she'd been searching for the Father's attention, and hoping for his pain. Lucifel's jealousy and spite seemed to know no boundaries.

Her thoughts right now were transparent as glass. Nostalgia was sweeping over her, and her expression softened as she once again saw the angelic city's glory after countless millennia of gloom and isolation. Perhaps she'd forgotten how beautiful it was.

Israfel had almost lost his chance to return to it. The portal would collapse at any moment.

It groaned, and the city's image wavered ominously.

Lucifel turned back to him despite the growing maelstrom. Their gazes met and once again they were chicks, with Lucifel crying over the kisses her Creator denied her. Instead, they'd been given to Israfel. But she'd never considered how much he'd actually suffered for them.
You fool,
he wanted to shriek at her.
Look at how I paid for that affection. All of your envy and greed was for nothing.

Her face twisted suddenly with rage and grief.

Israfel couldn't dodge fast enough.

Lucifel tackled him, her hair and wings lifted behind her by the hurricane of light and wind.

Israfel was slammed to the earth, his wings scraping against the rough stone. He twisted beneath Lucifel's knees.

She lifted her hand, ready to plunge it into his stomach and tear out his only hope, just as her children had been torn away. Once again, they were both reliving that crucial moment of the War, when Lucifel had tried to kill Israfel and the chick inside him with her infectious shadow. It was at that exact moment Raziel had fallen, and they watched his descent to death in horror.

The difference now was that Lucifel's shadow had been destroyed since then, and she was weaker than ever.

Israfel turned and looked at Angela. She galloped toward them, advancing with every second, her blood-red hair streaming behind her like a banner. Sophia clung to her tightly, staring down Israfel with a look of approval that only made him more determined to do what he'd planned.

Lucifel couldn't stay here, free as she was to force Angela to open the Book.

But her return to Heaven might be just as disastrous. And if Israfel didn't follow her to Malakhim, the chaos Lucifel would unleash once she arrived in the city and tried to scale the heights to the Father's nest would be insurmountable. Mikel was sure to infiltrate there somehow as well, helping her mother so that Lucifel could so mercifully end Mikel's life. Yet there was no choice left to him. Israfel wrapped his fingers around Lucifel's throat.

He kneed her sharply in the stomach.

She grunted from the pain, but was already recovering, ready to break his hand.

The ether rippled. The rift that had opened to Malakhim shimmered and threatened to close amid the light and wind.

Lucifel stared at Israfel proudly, evil promise written all over her face. She sensed what was coming next.

Israfel kicked her powerfully, forcing her through the rift.

With a last and apologetic glance at Angela, he entered the light and followed his sister back home.

Thirty-nine

Even if I had to do it all over again, my choices would be the same.
—A
NGELA
M
ATHERS

Angela had been so close. So close. She heard herself screaming.

Israfel took one more moment to gaze at her, his beauty even more striking with his face dirty and his wings injured. The portal to the angelic city wavered as he disappeared inside, his white wings rippling in the tornado of wind.

Light blinded Angela. A tremendous roar echoed throughout Hell. Her Kirin reared in terror as brilliance rushed like a relentless tide toward her and the army of riders.

Sophia screamed for her, and Angela felt herself slide from the saddle. She was falling, falling.

Stephanie and Nina had been right. There was no escape for her now. Angela was trapped in Hell with no way to return to Luz. Maybe she should have listened to everyone and never gone through the dark door.

Yet when she thought of Sophia again, Angela knew she'd made the right choice.

Perhaps Hell wouldn't be Hell by Sophia's side.

Perhaps this time when Angela fell asleep, she'd awaken to a different reality.

Perhaps Kim had been right all along. Everything now would change.

Forty

Gradually, I forgot the world that had existed before I touched the Throne.
—A
NGELA
M
ATHERS

Angela awakened to a room steeped in darkness. Her eyelids cracked open, and tears bunched at their corners. Her eyes weren't used to bright light anymore.

Above her, a large orange lamp hung like a sun, its gentle glow brushing at the sheets covering her body. She lay on a round bed with a thick velvety cushion, the covers raised to her chin. She shivered, desperate to gather her thoughts. Pieces of what had happened returned to her in painful bits. Lucifel shoving her in the stomach. Sophia screaming. It all felt like one terrible nightmare though it most certainly had not been. Slowly, Angela sat up and pressed a cold hand against her head, swallowing a sour taste in her mouth. The air still smelled of vinegar, while before her a set of embroidered curtains rustled as if someone stood behind them.

To her right, an onyx table held glasses filled with different liquids.

She picked up one of them, sniffed the contents, and then set it down gingerly, remembering the drinks at Lilith's ball. Her throat ached so much, acid could have poured down it while she slept.

I'm still in Hell. Maybe for forever . . . Troy, Nina, Juno . . . maybe they're trapped somewhere too.

Angela shivered, suddenly reliving her agony as Lucifel's fingers dug into her face, feeling once more the intense pain and gushing blood that had followed.

My eye . . .

Hesitantly, she touched it.

It was whole, as perfect as if it had never been harmed. Apparently there wouldn't be yet another scar to add to the collection already smothering her from head to toe.

“Thank God,” Angela whispered, settling back against the cushion again, letting out a shaky sigh. But fear continued to tug at her. A strange sensation of wrongness wouldn't let her relax. Had her eye been restored because of the Grail? Angela should have been dead by now after using the Glaive so much. Yet the suspicion had been growing inside of her ever since killing the Hound in Luz, that maybe her body was actually becoming used to how the Grail fed off her life force—that it was learning to adjust.

It was the only explanation that made any sense.

Or maybe it just wants me alive.

No. The Grail didn't have a will of its own. She refused to acknowledge
that
.

Angela uncurled her left palm, intent on gazing back at the Eye. She was sure it would at least be weeping blood again, reflecting the turmoil that had ricocheted through Hell with Lucifel's passing from one world to the other. Worse, Angela had been dreaming of Raziel's death again as she slept, though the instant she opened her eyes the memories faded a little. She looked down at her hand.

The Grail was gone.

Angela stared at the unblemished white skin of her palm.

IT WAS GONE.

She jumped from the cushion, nearly screaming aloud as a door she hadn't noticed cracked open, letting in some flickering light.

Kim stepped inside with a lantern. He shut the door just as quickly behind him, setting the glass lamp on a table half hidden in the darkness. The light played with the shadows of his handsome face, and his eyes seemed to shine more golden and breathtaking than ever. His dark hair glistened like a raven's wing. He looked clean and calm, the exact opposite of when Lucifel had killed him. Like a dream come to life, he sat on a musty chair nearby, staring at Angela with intense seriousness.

She stared back at him, probably looking wide-eyed as an owl.

“Kim—you're alive,” she whispered, clutching at her left hand. “Thank God.” Tears rolled down her face. She wanted to jump up and crush him to death with a hug, but nothing felt real. So she just sat and gazed at him pathetically. What if the minute she touched him, Kim vanished, and she learned that this moment of peace was an illusion?

He left the chair and sat next to her, embracing her tightly, running his warm fingers through her hair. He seemed about to kiss her but drew back suddenly. Was he afraid?

Kim knelt down by her side.

“How did you survive?” Angela said to him. “I—I thought Lucifel killed you.”

“No,” he said quietly. “She drained my energy, but stopped short of taking my life. Even I don't understand why she spared me . . .” His face looked haunted.

“Well,” Angela whispered, “I'm happy.” She brushed back a tear.

“I'm grateful for that,” Kim said, smiling.

“Why force me to confront her, though?” she demanded of him, anyway, unable to stop. “Why free her in the first place? You have no idea . . . what kind of pain she caused me.”

“I do,” Kim said, his suave voice cracking with emotion. “But I also believed in you, Angela. Now, my belief has been justified.” He stared at her, almost pleading. “Even Sophia knew there was no way out of all this.”

“
Where is she?
” Angela said quickly. “Is she all right—”

“Sophia will be in shortly,” Kim said, smiling jealously as he noticed the overwhelming worry in Angela's tone. “She's fine. She had to go and speak to your caretakers, but she'll be back soon. You're in Hell, Angela. But everything is already changing. With Lucifel gone, Lilith has lost all desire to murder you. She is actually your fiercest protector right now, insisting that you must stay so the civilians of Babylon don't panic and revolt even more than before. Most aren't even aware their Prince has left them. Lilith knows the illusion must continue, and that the odd loyalty you've commanded from some of Lucifel's soldiers must remain. I don't know what you said, but they are looking to you as their leader now. If you refuse Lucifel's Throne, more innocents will die.”

There was an awkward and painful pause.

Lilith wanted vengeance for Naamah's death, and it didn't feel possible she'd change her mind so soon. The danger in the air threatened to choke Angela's breath away. Kim's hopefulness was almost tragic. He was grasping at anything. Angela's mind turned back to the Grail she had shown to the army of demons and ghosts. Horrid fear rushed through her like a hot flood. “Kim,” she said, showing him her left hand, “it's gone.”

“I know,” Kim said just as softly, staring at her with an odd expression. He never took his eyes off her face, seeming to focus more on the left side.

Perhaps she was wrong about not having new scars after all.

“What . . . what is it?” Angela said. She reached for the eye Lucifel had injured.

Kim grasped her hand tightly. “Angela, do you feel the same? Does your face hurt at all?”

A sinking feeling overtook her instantly. “No. Why?”

Kim sighed. He paused for a moment, and then he leaned over and plucked a mirror from a table.

“Look at yourself,” he said, grim as ever.

Angela took the mirror with shaking hands, her heart racing, and her muscles tightening. She lifted it up to her face as slowly as she could, ignoring how Kim held the lantern closer so that she had the best possible view.

Her face was the same as always, too thin and very white.

Both eyes were whole.

“I don't—”

“Look closer,” Kim said gently. He moved the lamp even nearer.

Oh God. Oh no. NO.

The flashback was instantaneous, horrendous. Once again she was inside of Raziel, staring down the terribly beautiful creature that had torn his wings to ribbons. That creature—the thing that was both an angel and every beautiful nightmare combined—half of its terrible face gazed back at her in the mirror clasped between her hands.

The Grail was now Angela's left eye.

It had traveled within her body, leaving her hand to fill the void Lucifel had left in Angela's face.

A thousand horrors and just as many regrets shot through her all at once.

Angela wanted to throw the mirror and scream. She wanted to cry.

There was a long moment when she considered doing just that. Instead, she bit her lip, tipped her head back, and sucked up her pain, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to be strong for the people who now depended on her to live. The room spun without her looking at it. She nearly passed out, but held on as tightly as she could to the waking world. Images and ideas burned into her mind even as it threatened to fog over. What did this mean? Lucifel had said that only Angela could use the Glaive to open Sophia. That had to be because the Glaive was a part of Angela somehow. Everyone commented on the mystery of her soul, and why Raziel had chosen her as the Archon out of millions. Angela knew instinctively it had to do with this terror gazing back at her.

A sudden and deadly weakness swept over her.

“Who am I?” Angela stammered, dropping the mirror and clutching Kim's arm. She swayed, feeling sicker than before. “Who am I . . .”

Kim grabbed her tightly. “You are the Archon,” he said, embracing her again and stroking her hair. But his voice trembled with the mystery between them. “And I am by your side, as I promised.”

No. There's more to me than that. So much more.

“You might tell me you don't need me,” Kim murmured in her ear. “But I can't deny this desire that burns in me so painfully. If I can't be with you, let me be next to you. Give me that. Look at me, let me kneel by your throne, and I will be happy. It's all that I have.”

Angela looked at him and touched his face. He held her hand to his cheek and kissed it with trembling lips. Warmth and pain flowed through her all at once. Her cheeks burned with her blushes. “Kim,” Angela said weakly. “What about Troy?”

He shook his head, unable to answer.

“Let me forget her for a while,” he said. A tear trickled down his face. He shivered. “Just for now.”

Angela rested against Kim's shoulder.

The moments passed, and Angela stared out into the shadows, thinking hard. As the haze over her mind lifted, the certainty of what came next burned brightly before her like a flame. She could not stay and rule in Lucifel's place. Whether Angela escaped to Heaven or back to Luz, she needed to leave as soon as the opportunity arose. Hell was too much of a danger, and she hadn't forgotten there was a powerful faction of demons who'd always wanted her dead. If it was possible, Angela also needed to somehow reach Lucifel again and bring her to justice before her despair consumed even more souls.

But most important, she needed to figure out a way to open Sophia without killing her, which was out of the question as long as Angela lived.

Absolutely everything depended on it.

Angela would never give up. She had promised Raziel to save Israfel. She had promised Troy, and Juno, and Nina everything in her power to give to them. Those oaths were too sacred to her to break. How would she escape Hell, though, to keep them?

So much already stood in her way.

“Now, we will be here always,” Kim said. “Now, we can start over again. Everything can be what it was meant to be and should be. There is nothing that can come between us anymore.”

Angela clutched at her necklace, rubbing her finger against the feather and the star it cradled. As long as Angela remained trapped in Hell, she would at least have to make sure that things changed. Sophia was right. It was not time for ruin. A new order had arrived.

Angela gazed at the mirror where it rested again on the table, unable to tear her gaze away from the familiar reflection staring back at her.

The light has to win this time. There has to be a revolution
.

 

Babylon was almost beautiful from such a high vantage point. Yet not as much as Luz. Angela gazed out of the enormous window, her fingers pressed against the smoky glass. Her mind returned again and again to the snow and ice of Luz, the beauty of the candles in every home, the sweetness of a holiday that had ended so soon. What would happen to all the blood heads in Luz now? She could only imagine, and it tortured her. At some point, Angela would return and make everything right. There wasn't much time—she knew it—and it left her silent and pensive too often.

She barely noticed when Sophia stepped beside her.

Sophia hummed a familiar tune. It was Israfel's song. The same one Angela had used to open the door to Hell after she'd smashed Python's iron snake.

Israfel left to follow Lucifel. But I know—he thought of me. He felt sorry. So do I.

“Do you know where that song comes from?” Sophia said after a while, not taking her eyes off the city.

Sophia continued humming. The earth trembled a little and went still, as it had continued to do for a few days.

Angela watched the regiments on the plain of Babylon filing into orderly ranks. She swallowed nervously at the idea of leading them again. Now she looked the part, with a long coat and slim-fitting boots. Bare feet were for demons and angels, not humans. Angela also refused to wear her hair up, but let it fall loose to her waist. She often wondered how long it would be until she also had to wear Lucifel's shackles. The idea terrified her. “No. Where does it come from?” Angela said, grasping Sophia's hand impulsively.

Sophia put her other hand over Angela's and turned to her.

“It's an ancient song,” she said in her soft sweet voice. “Older than time itself.”

“That's not possible,” Angela said, smiling.

Sophia shook her head, as if to say it certainly was. “The first notes of the song,” she continued, “sounded in a Realm so high that the human mind cannot truly conceive of it. The initial verses speak of a Garden of Shadows, and the last speak of a ring that imprisons the soul. The Garden is paradise and the ring is love—or at least, that was what I intended those symbols to mean.”

Angela stared into Sophia's stormy eyes. Shock burned through her. “That song—it's yours?
You invented it?
”