The Templar Chronicles (72 page)

Cade refused to reply. Go to hell, you bastard, he thought.

The smile never left the Adversary’s face. “Not enough for your tastes? Perhaps you’re expecting me to sweeten the pot? Well let’s see, what might entice you to do as I ask…”

Mockingly, the Adversary snapped his fingers. “I know. Your precious wife.”

Without waiting to see Cade’s reaction, the Adversary turned away toward the white tower and pointed. Cade felt a rumble beneath his feet and white blocks of masonry began falling from somewhere up above, crashing down around him with thunderous impact.

Cade’s head was suddenly free and he was able to turn and look at the white tower.

Aside from a small ring of stones making up the rear wall, the entire tower was gone. The Adversary had torn it down without laying a single finger on it. But that wasn’t what caught Cade’s attention.

In the middle of the lowest floor of the tower was a sumptuous bier of gold and platinum.

On that platform lay Cade’s dead wife, Gabrielle.

Cade was unable to speak.

He knew it wasn’t physically his wife; her body was still back in the real world, as far as he knew, guarded by Elizabeth Clearwater and her hedge magick. But Elizabeth had said that Gabrielle’s essence, her soul if you will, had left her body and gone elsewhere.

Cade had no doubt that he was looking at it now.

“Oh, you bastard,” he said, surprised to find himself able to speak.

The Adversary just laughed.

“Will you do it? Will you open the door?”

Cade shook his head. “No.”

The Adversary turned away from him and raised his hands. Power flashed, but Cade didn’t know what it was for. A few moments passed and then from out of the ruins stumbled Riley. He was clearly not under his own power; his steps uncertain, his direction shaky. In one hand he held his sword. His struggle to free himself could easily be seen on his face, though when he, in turn, saw Cade that struggle changed to simple fear.

They were out of their league and Riley knew it.

As Cade watched, Riley’s gaze shifted past the spot where Cade was secured to the remains of the wall and his expression changed to one of bewilderment. The sound of someone approaching reached Cade and then moved passed him.

Duncan stepped into view.

His eyes were empty, his face slack-jawed, and yet he moved forward with purpose and grace. In one hand he held a combat knife and there was no evidence of the injuries that had forced him to clamber along wearily behind Bishop.

Duncan marched forward, moving inexorably closer to Riley, brandishing his weapon.

“Cade?” Riley called, clearly uncertain what to do.

But when he tried to answer, the head of Echo Team discovered that while he might be able to move his head, his voice had been taken from him.

“Cade, help me!” Riley called, as Duncan moved closer.

The Adversary stepped in front of Cade, blocking his view.

“Open the door and I will free your friends.”

Cade shook his head.

“Very well. Let it be on your hands.”

The Adversary waved his hand in Riley’s direction and then stepped aside to enjoy the show.

Unable to do anything, Cade was forced to watch as his two comrades attacked each other against their will.

Neither of the men was interested in defense and both took horrendous blows as they fought without consideration of their own safety. In seconds, they had each sustained grievous wounds and were bleeding in half a dozen places.

“Shall I stop?” asked the Adversary.

Cade struggled to speak, to tell the Adversary that he’d do it, that he’d open the damned doorway, but the other refused to release his arcane hold on Cade’s vocal chords. The Adversary was enjoying this and had no intention of stopping, Cade realized.

Even as he fought against the bonds that held him, Cade saw Riley thrust his sword forward, impaling Duncan through the stomach, the point of his weapon emerging from the younger Templar’s lower back. At the same time, Duncan’s hand came swinging around and embedded his knife deep in Riley’s unprotected neck.

Cade watched in horror as both men toppled to the ground, unmoving.

Silence fell.

To be broken a moment later by the Adversary’s cackling laughter.

“Oh, what a show! What a show!” the fiend said, smiling all the while.

Cade vomited in helpless fear and emotional pain.

But the Adversary wasn’t done. The fallen angel had one more offer to make.

“Obviously, the stick didn’t seem to work. Maybe you are more a carrot kind of guy.” The Adversary moved closer and whispered in Cade’s ear.

“How about I return your wife to you? Restore her to how see was on that day before I entered your lives? You could hold her again. Hear her voice. See her smile. Make love to her as if all this never happened. All you need to do is open that doorway and carry her back across the Veil. Reuniting her spirit with her body will return her to the way she was all those years before. It will be like all this had never happened.”

And to his shame, Cade was tempted.

Why not? he thought. Why not give Gabrielle another chance at life? After all, wasn’t that what he’d wanted all along? Wasn’t that why he’d joined the Order in the first place? Wasn’t that why he’d spent so many years, so much time and determination learning everything he could about the Adversary and the world beyond the barrier, so much time searching for his wife once he’d realized that she wasn’t at rest in the afterlife?

The Adversary stared at him, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth, as if he could hear what Cade was thinking.

That did it. It was like a bucket of cold water being thrown in Cade’s face. He knew there had to be something more to it. The Adversary would never give anyone a moment of happiness when he could create a moment of misery instead. Cade understood that instinctively. So what was it?

Cade looked toward Gabrielle, pretending to be considering the Adversary’s offer while he racked his mind for an answer to the puzzle. Clearly the Adversary was capable of entering the real world on his own; Cade had seen him there on more than one occasion, including the day he’d murdered Gabrielle. So it wasn’t that. It had to be something more.

Could it be something to do with the nature of the Beyond itself? Cade thought furiously. Could that be it?

He glanced upward at the churning tear in the sky above him.

Standing in front of him, the Adversary followed his gaze and sad, “Yes, yes that’s right. You can do it. Take your wife back. Open the gateway.” His voice dripped with eagerness and desire.

Cade ignored him, thinking furiously. What would happen if he opened a gate of that size? What would it do to the corresponding location on the other side? What would it be like to be standing there when the gate opened?

Probably be hell itself, he mused, and then he had it.

Hell itself. That was it!

Opening a gate of that size would create an imbalance between the two worlds, an imbalance Cade had no doubt that the Adversary would capitalize on, that he would use his own powers to warp and expand. If the Adversary tore a big enough hole in the barrier that separated the two states of reality, that barrier would more likely than not start to fail at a greater rate, becoming larger, until it ceased to exist at all.

The real world and the Beyond would cease to exist as separate locations, but mix together, becoming one.

Hell on earth was right.

That was the answer.

But would that be so bad? he wondered. With Gabrielle at your side once more, would anything else matter?

He never had the chance to answer that question.

Motion behind the Adversary caught his eye.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

A figure was rising up behind the Adversary, its features shrouded in dust and shadow. Cade strained to see who or what it was, convinced that he was about to meet another of the Adversary’s seemingly endless list of inhuman allies, and was shocked to realize that it was Duncan.

He was still alive!

Duncan’s lips were set in a grim line and it was obvious to Cade that he was at the end of his rope. Summoning the strength just to stand looked as if it had been almost too much for him and yet there he was, doggedly moving toward the Adversary. His lips were moving, more than likely in prayer, and as Cade watched the younger knight extended his hands out before him, palms upright and facing in the Adversary’s direction. Cade engaged his Sight and through it he could see the blue witchfire that sprang up between Duncan’s fingertips, flowing down to gather in a pool at the center of each palm. Cade knew he was seeing the physical manifestation of Duncan’s healing power, but he didn’t understand just what his teammate hoped to accomplish with it. Duncan couldn’t use it on himself or he certainly would have done so before now and Cade was too far away for Duncan to reach.

Which left only the Adversary.

Seeing his teammate’s determination was enough to reinvigorate Cade’s own resistance and he struggled anew against the invisible bonds that held him as securely as the iron shackles that Duncan still wore on his wrists. Cade threw everything he had into the attempt, straining his body, flexing his muscles, willing himself to move, but it was no use.

He was trapped.

Duncan had closed the distance to the Adversary while Cade had been struggling and with a shout of defiance, he slammed his hands against the enemy’s back.

Power flashed, filling the night air like a thousand incandescent flares set off at the same time, enveloping the three of them in a shimmering ball of arcane energy that hissed and spit and crackled with a voice all its own.

Over the Adversary’s shoulder, Cade could see Duncan. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed as he poured every ounce of energy he had into the link that he’d established with the fallen angel in front of him.

With a flash of insight, Cade understood.

The Adversary was corrupt right down to the very core of his being, but he hadn’t been created that way. Once, long ago, he had been the angel Asharael, fashioned as an agent of goodness by the hand of God himself, a living collection of purity and grace and divine power, all bound up inside a frame designed specifically to accomplish the Lord’s will. Somewhere along the way Asharael had lost his way. His soul had grown sick, infected with the rot and pain and shame of this fallen world. Duncan apparently believed that what had been created for good could be healed of the evil that had taken it over, could be returned to its original nature and form.

Power poured forth from Duncan’s hands in a wave, washing up and over the Adversary’s form one slow inch at a time. Wherever it touched the other’s flesh bulged and shook and shivered, the divine presence summoned by Duncan’s healing talent meeting the corruption that filled the enemy’s body, mind, and soul. The Adversary’s eyes bulged, his hands danced, and his feet beat a rhythmic tattoo against the ground beneath them as if in response to a beat that only they could hear.

In that split second, the Adversary’s hold on Cade was broken.

The invisible bonds that had been holding him in place abruptly disappeared as the Adversary was forced to use all of his concentration and energy to defend against Duncan’s attack.

Cade crashed to the ground.

Time slowed to a crawl.

It was as if Cade was suddenly standing in the spaces between each moment, able to see and hear and feel a thousand times faster than those around him, like time had been lain at his feet to do with as he would.

He looked past the confrontation to where his wife’s body lay on the stone bier. He wanted so badly to see her sit up and rise off that stone platform, longed to hold her in his arms and to hear her sweet voice again. The Adversary’s offer to return her to him was more tempting than he wanted to admit, even to himself, but the cost…the cost was just too high. How could he look her in the eyes and tell her that he’d selfishly given up the entire world and everyone in it just to spend another day with her? How could he trade all of humanity, its past, present and future, for his own happiness?

He couldn’t.

Everything in his heart and soul cried out against it. He’d seen the evil that a lesser angel like Baraquel could inflict on those around him while constrained by the boundaries of the Veil. To tear down that barrier, to let the Adversary loose in the world with all of his infernal powers intact and at his disposal, powers that made the things Baraquel could do look like the antics of a circus clown, was unthinkable.

He cast a last glance in her direction. A whispered, “I’m sorry, Gabrielle,” fell from his lips and then he scrambled to his feet. His sword still lay on the ground nearby and he dove for it now, knowing it was his only chance of surviving what was to come.

His hand closed about the hilt just the Adversary let out a roar that literally shook the ground beneath their feet.

Cade spun around.

The Adversary was now face-to-face with Duncan and Cade was just in time to see the creature shove his hands wrist-deep in the center of Duncan’s unprotected chest.

The young Templar’s eyes gaped open in shock and a thick stream of blood erupted from his open mouth.

The Adversary’s triumphant laughter filled the night air.

The sound galvanized Cade into action.

He charged forward and rammed his sword deep into the Adversary’s back, right between the tattered remnants of his wings.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Cade’s sword sank to the hilt in the Adversary’s back, emerging from the other side and almost impaling Duncan. The Adversary shrieked in rage and pain, throwing Duncan to the side as he reached behind him, trying to reach the hilt and draw the weapon free. Black blood poured from his mouth and nose in a seeming torrent.

Aware that he had only seconds in which to act, Cade spun on his heel and rushed over to where Riley’s body lay. His teammate’s hand still held his sword and that was what Cade was after.

But when he tried to free it from his friend’s grasp, Riley’s fingers clenched around it.