Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (67 page)

“I don’t know,”
Mikal admitted.

“Maybe we should
try it,” Foriel said.

“Why?” Mikal
asked, genuinely confused.

Foriel shrugged.

“Why not?
Gabriel prayed.”

Mikal’s jaw
snapped shut to prevent him from gaping at the other Seraph.

“How do you
know?” he asked finally, his voice tight. “He was destroyed before you came
into being.”

“I don’t know,”
Foriel said, frowning. “It’s just something I know, something I remember. It’s
true, isn’t it?”

Mikal nodded,
not trusting himself to speak for a moment. Shock and confusion at Foriel’s
comment warred with memories of his oldest friend, whose destruction predated
the Creation of the mortal world. First Gabriel, then Abdiel, and finally
Raphael, all lost.

“I think I’ll go
talk to them,” Foriel said, surprising Mikal yet again. Beyond offering to
fight in any given battle against the demons, Foriel rarely did
any
thing
without being ordered. Before Mikal could formulate a response, the Seraph
leapt over the balcony, spreading only one pair of wings as he settled gently
to the ground near the circle of men who had so captured his attention.

Mikal stared
after him for a long moment, then turned and walked away. His former gloom had
receded, and he was inexplicably buoyed by a sense of hope.

In Hell, one direction is often the same as another.
The path makes little difference compared to the destination.

- Birch de’Valderat,

“Memoirs” (1013 AM)

- 1 -

Uriel
accelerated their journey through Heaven as quickly as he could; even so, it
took them more than a day to reach the Iridescent Gates. They returned to the
upper levels of the clouds to avoid detection by the demons, but word must have
gotten out from their strike, because twice they were forced to stop and engage
small scouting parties of demons. The Archangels made swift work of the scouts,
then pressed on with all possible speed. Uriel directed the angels but did not
take part in the fighting; he had a special burden in his arms.

As they drew
near the Iridescent Gates, Uriel dismissed Doriel and his escort to rejoin
their Host. The Archangels continued on alone – Uriel led them in silence,
absorbed in his own thoughts.

Paladins who
could heal demons? Dead mortals who bypassed the immortal plane and moved on to
some other, unknown level of existence? They were as improbable as a demon who
had a heart of goodness… or an angel who betrayed his own people.

The Seraph’s
thoughts were troubled as he drew near the massive entryway, and at first he
did not notice the long column that was drawing near the Iridescent Gates.

“Lord Uriel,
were we expecting these mortals below?”
Farael, a Cherub, asked him
discreetly.

Uriel snapped
out of his gloomy thoughts and glanced down.
“No, but they are most
certainly welcome.”

The Archangels
descended quickly and landed a short distance away from the column, which
appeared to be comprised solely of paladins. Six of the holy warriors – one
from each Facet – rode forward on their dakkans to meet Uriel, who stepped in
front of the Archangels to make himself known. He had healed Perklet’s charred
body in flight, but as the mortals drew near, he was of two minds about
speaking to them while holding one of their own in his arms.

“My lord angel,
we have…” a Violet paladin began, but the Blue next to him cried out in dismay.

“Perky,” he said
and immediately slid off his dakkan and ran to Uriel’s side. The balding
paladin was skinny and wore only studded-leather armor. His face was tender and
filled with grief as he reached forward to touch Perklet’s dead face. The
Yellow paladin among the six likewise approached with an expression of profound
sadness on his face.

“Easy, Nuse,” he
said softly to the Blue paladin. He looked up at Uriel.

“What happened
to him, my lord?” he asked.

“I am Uriel, and
your friend died bravely with a spirit few could match,” the Seraph said
softly. “Do not look for his soul here, my friends, for he has passed to
another level of existence beyond us. Grieve not for his own death, but only
that someone so blessed and pure is no longer among us to brighten the world.”

The Blue paladin
brushed back Perklet’s hair, then hesitated in surprise.

“He’s smiling,”
the Blue said softly, “and his cloak is white.”

Uriel nodded.

“I will tell you
what I can of his death, but for now, time is short,” he told them. “I have
brought him back here so he can be carried back to your world for a proper
burial, but we should be off immediately to rejoin the Heavenly Hosts. The war
is not going well here.”

He craned his
head slightly to look down the length of the column.

“How many strong
are you?”

“Lord Uriel,”
the Red paladin answered, “we are approximately two thousand strong, all
paladins ready to fight for the Almighty. Command us.”

“If your
strength and caliber are anything like the five hundred who crossed months
ago,” Uriel said appreciatively, “I expect you will do much to influence the
course of this war. You are welcome, indeed.”

He walked away
slowly and led them through the Iridescent Gates. The paladins stopped and
stared as he laid Perklet’s body down next to hundreds of mortal bodies, all of
which were waiting to return to their home for burial. Humans, elves, and
denarae were laid out as though resting – all of those whose bodies could be
recovered.

“Their souls
fight on,” Uriel said as he stood and drew the
Tricrus
in the air above
Perklet. The holy symbol blazed in white fire for a moment, then gently faded
away. “Even in death, they fight for God, man, and life.”

 “Fighting
for life itself,” the Yellow paladin behind him murmured. “It gives a new
meaning to our oath.”

- 2 -

Danner finished
pouring the fuel solution into his buggy and quickly capped off the tank before
he inhaled too many of the potent vapors. Faldergash’s special additive packed
a bit of a kick and was necessary to drive the high-performance engine at full
efficiency, but it also had a tendency to burn Danner’s nostrils.

“You might
consider putting your cloak over your mouth and nose when you do that,” Marc
said from the front passenger seat. “Might help block some of the fumes.”

“Now why didn’t
I think of that?” Danner mused silently. Unfortunately, Trebor heard him.

“Do you really
want to know the answer to that?” the denarae asked with a barely contained
laugh.

“Not particularly,
no,” Danner replied curtly, then he grinned. “How’s the gauge reading, Marc?”

“Full,” the
Orange paladin replied, peering carefully at the dash readings. “Good estimate
on the mixture.”

“I want to make
sure it lasts,” Danner said seriously. “I’d rather not run out of gas and have
to explain to Faldergash why I had to leave his precious buggy in the pits of
Hell. I’m sure as Sin not going to push it all the way out.”

“So all this is
fuel?” Trebor asked. He was clinging to the other side of the buggy and looking
down into the fully loaded backseat.

“Well, this half
is,” Danner replied. “The half closest to you is all the explosives Faldergash
rigged up and sent with us.” Trebor leapt back and glared at Danner, who
shrugged. “We haven’t needed them yet, and no one else knows how to use the
damn things up here, so I figured I might as well bring them along. Never know
when they might come in handy.”

Trebor glanced
at the arrangement. “But in the meantime, I have nowhere to sit,” he said
petulantly.

“You’re dead,
Trebor,” Danner said. “It’s not like you’re going to get tired from walking.”

“He’s got you
there, Treb,” Marc said.

Should it
bother me that it’s this easy to talk to someone I watched die?
Danner
wondered.
Whose death I caused?

“You’re just
adjusting, Danner,”
Trebor kythed to him.
“You can’t stay grief-locked
forever, your body and mind won’t let you. Strange as it may seem, I think my
being around has finally helped you get over the last of your guilt and issues.
Now, my being dead is about as important to our friendship as my being a
denarae. It’s just one of those things we accept and don’t think about.”

Danner thought
about it a moment, then nodded.

“Are you
children finished playing around with that toy yet?” Gerard barked at them.

“Finished now,
sir,” Danner replied without a trace of embarrassment. Trebor rolled his eyes,
and Marc winked.

“Garnet, get
Shadow Company underway,” the Red paladin ordered. “Halo Company, move out.”

In a few
moments, a loose formation of six-and-a-half hundred warriors began the trek
into Hell. Siren followed the group with the remnants of his Elan’Vital, and
three hundred denarae and three hundred paladins – nearly all of them human –
followed Gerard and Birch, who marched side-by-side to lead the way. Selti
scampered at Birch’s heels, occasionally changing from his drann shape to a
greyhound or a retriever, and even once to a gray, black-striped faerer. As the
hours passed and they drew closer to the border between Heaven and Hell,
Selti’s changes became more frequent and more erratic, to the point that people
began to take notice.

“You said your
uncle’s dakkan could change into just
one
extra shape, right?” Marc
asked Danner at one point. The Orange was with Danner in the buggy, and they
rode on Shadow Company’s left flank between the denarae and the column of
paladins.

“Well, that’s
all he used to be able to do,” Danner answered. “Birch said he’s been doing
more than that since the war ended, but he doesn’t know why.”

“Hmmm.” Marc
frowned in thought.

“Any theories
there, booker?” Danner teased him. Marc hated that nickname.

“Not yet,” he
replied, ignoring the jibe, “just that it seems to be getting worse the closer
we get to Hell.”

“Well,” Danner
said, “that’s where he was born. I can’t help but think being born in Hell is
bound to have some sort of strange effect on a mortal creature. In a way, this
is sort of a homecoming for him.”

“I guess you’re
right there,” Marc allowed. “I’m surprised he was even able to be born in Hell,
given the time dilation and the problems we’re having in Lokka because of this
war. Maybe it just wasn’t an issue then. I’ll keep it in mind and see if I come
up with anything plausible.”

“Whatever makes
you happy,” Danner said with a shrug.

- 3 -

Birch snapped
his fingers, but Selti ignored the summons and raced ahead at a dead sprint.
His lean canine body stretched out in a sleek display of speed. In mid-stride,
Selti sprouted wings and soared into the air as a drann, but still he didn’t
return to Birch’s side.

“You ought to
teach that beastie some manners, Birch,” Gerard said companionably. “He’s quite
the little mischief maker.”

“You have no
idea, Gerard,” Birch replied, “but my bond with him is too close to try and
control his temperament. As I remember, you never developed a very close bond
with a dakkan, but yours were always very well-disciplined.”

“Damn right they
were, but I see your point,” the Red paladin said. He shook his head ruefully.
“I do miss having Sabor, though. Garnet told me he took off after my death and
hasn’t been seen since. He was always a half-step from being wild, no matter
his training, so I imagine he went feral. Damn shame.”

The pair walked
on in silence until they saw the change in the ground ahead of them. The
tainted gray clouds underfoot gradually became a thick fog that rolled around
their ankles, which in turn gave way to a cracked, dry landscape of utter
desolation. Not a single blade of grass, not even the withered husk of a dead
plant or desiccated stump of a tree to indicate life might once have existed
there.

Nothing. Hell
was just as absolutely devoid of life as its holy counterpart, but it had none
of the redeeming beauty of Heaven.

The gray clouds
overhead gradually blackened to thick storm clouds, through which bolts of
lightning leapt and danced with unnatural regularity. A sourceless light shone
through the ashen clouds with a fiery brilliance that was nothing like the
soft, comforting light shed in Heaven. This was a fierce, harsh light that
illuminated the sky like a sea of ash-covered magma suspended above them. Birch
absently noted that as they crossed into Hell proper, their shadows seemed to
disappear entirely. A bare trace of shadow was visible beneath each person, but
no one cast a distinct shape on the ground in any particular direction.

Funny that I
didn’t notice that last time,
he thought.
And I was just getting used to
them all going their own ways.

The barren plane
stretched on infinitely into the distance. To their left, a range of mountains
was just visible; the rocky peaks disappeared into the stormy clouds and were
hidden from view.

Deep within
Birch, a knot he hadn’t even felt suddenly eased, and tension melted out of his
body. Thanks to Danner, Birch realized almost immediately what was happening,
and try as he might, Birch couldn’t help but feel like a part of him felt
welcome. Part of him had come…

…home.

“So which way do
we go?” Gerard asked.

Birch shook off
the unwelcome realization and smiled thinly at the Red paladin.

“You ask like I
have the first hint of where we currently are,” Birch answered wryly. “I don’t
have a map in front of me that says,
You are here
, Gerard.”

Gerard scowled.

“Don’t worry,
old friend,” Birch said, “just keep us moving and I’ll guide us in. Hasn’t
traveling with angels taught you anything at all? It’s not the amount of ground
in between, it’s the simple act of motion and the use of willpower to hurdle
the distance and steer toward a destination. Just as it takes an angel to
compress the distance in Heaven, so it will take the demon inside me to
compress and direct our journey here. We could continue walking straight ahead,
and if we were trying to get back to Heaven, we’d find the holy plane waiting
for us.”