There But For The Grace (24 page)

We locked swords, and despite my best efforts, he kept forcing me back, stronger, in current condition, than I was. “He wasn’t going to kill you. But what do I care if he, or the packs, or any of the others, got in some shots?”

“He’s an assassin. You think he was going to listen if he had a chance to add to his kills?”

“I think you just proved why he’d be scared enough of me not to try.”

“That how you talked him into going against your boss?”

“Samyaza is too cautious.”

“You think he’s going to be happy about you defying him?”

He managed to shove me away, hard, sending me crashing through more of the brush. I barely got my sword up in time as he flew after me, bringing his blade down hard. He kept trying to force my sword down, pushing his blade towards my head, responding as he did. “Samyaza won’t care, if I bring the keys with me.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I will. He can have them. Whether he wants to use them to trade with Lucifer, go to someone else, or try to rally his own charge on the gates, it all ends up the same for me.”

“You don’t agree with him that Lucifer will probably try to throw all your lives away?”

“He can try. It’s not like it would be the first time. I taught the humans warfare. I want to be at the forefront of the battle, lead the charge on Heaven. And I don’t care who puts me there.”

As he spoke, his sword was getting dangerously close, and I wasn’t having any luck getting any leverage. “You’re not going to make it that far.”

“You’re going to stop me?” He redoubled his efforts, shifting to put more weight down on the blade.

He got the sword within inches of my face. “No. I’m going to kill you.” I managed to bring my less battered wing up, smashing him across the side of the head. He staggered back, and I kicked his feet out from under him and dragged myself back enough to try and stand.

“You don’t get it,” he growled, getting to his feet quickly, coming right back at me. We locked up again after a few swings and deflections. “Where are you going to go? You have no friends here, no allies. The whole realm wants to kill you.”

He kept forcing me back, crashing me through a couple of the thorn trees as I struggled to keep the sword at bay. Despite his boasts, I heard the sound I’d been listening for amidst the fight. Letting him slam me against a larger tree, swords still locked, I freed up one hand and grabbed for him. “Hell doesn’t care who it kills,” I grunted back.

The harpies were on us in moments. Normally, they tore up the trees, broke branches, fed on the blood-sap, scratched the bark, anything to torture those condemned here. The opportunity to torment prey more able to scream was too good to pass up. They weren’t any worse than Demons individually, but they were fierce, relentless, and at least at the moment, either didn’t recognize, or didn’t care about Gadreel’s status. I used him as a shield, with the larger tree guarding my back, its thorns not nearly as bad as the talons of the harpies would have been as they dove.

The flock pulled him back and away, rending at him ferociously. They got hold of his back, but I had heard them coming, and was in better position to defend myself. I cut down the first to come at me, then another. I took a couple of shallow claws, but managed to keep them away from my face until I could cut down or fend those attackers off as well. With half a dozen harpies clinging to his back, clawing at flesh, and trying to get at his eyes, Gadreel wasn’t as fortunate. I had no doubt he’d free himself in time, but he’d be the worse for wear for the encounter, and it was still time.

I took a wing off another harpy. When one caught hold of my off-arm, I smashed it against a thorn tree, impaling the winged torturer. The thorn tree responded, wrapping a thorny vine around the creature, reveling in returning some of the torment. Free for just a moment, I ran. A few pursued me, while yet more piled onto the prey that seemed closer to ‘caught,’ Gadreel. A couple caught hold briefly, but in both cases, I managed to get rid of them, one by battering it with my wing, the other by slamming backwards into thorn bushes, which seemed only too happy to take care of the harpy for me.

I just had to hope I was heading the direct direction. Neither one promised any kind of hospitality, but I preferred the thought of not having to try to cross the thorn forest again. For the moment, I managed to stay ahead of the few still pursuing me, until I could disappear through an especially dense thicket. If I could get to the river of fire and blood, the harpies wouldn’t pursue me. Gadreel certainly would, if he figured out where I’d gone, but the harpies wouldn’t risk the wardens there, who I had no doubt would be as happy to shoot down any harpies emerging from the thickets as they were to shoot at any of the sinners who tried to emerge from the river.

Of course, they’d be even happier to shoot at me, but I had to deal with one problem at a time. At least I knew what lay immediately ahead, with some idea of the challenges I’d still need to deal with, aside from just Gadreel and whatever he brought to bear. I wrapped my wings about myself as best I could and forged ahead through the scourging of the thorn trees. I did my best to orient myself, based on various signs. I covered my trail as best I could while trying not to linger. I’d soon be out of cover, so I thought it best to use it while I could. A couple of times, shadows passed overhead. There were no shouts or attacks, so I didn’t think they saw me, and in turn, I didn’t look out from cover enough to figure out if they were harpies on the hunt, Gadreel, or other Fallen Angels of the Grigori that he’d recruited to help search for me.

***

After far too long a time, I finally found myself within sight of the river Phlegethon and the lake it fed into. Both were composed of blood and fire. The sinners trapped there, literally bathed in blood, were those whose sins were of violence against others. Tyrants and conquerors suffered next to cold-blooded murderers, boiling, but kept whole through the powers of the plane. The only difference for any of them was the depth to which they were submerged, which varied according to the severity of their violent sins in life. Some were kept almost submerged, while others stood in the shallows, forced to wade through the boiling river.

Worse than the lake itself in terms of crossing the area, Demons patrolled the edges of the lake with bows. Those hapless souls who attempted to free themselves from the lake, or even move to an area where they’d be less submerged, would be met by barbed arrows, fired from the shores. Some were of the more common varieties, others were various forms of half-man, half-beast, like the centaurs of Dante’s descriptions. Regardless of the form they took, they patrolled in numbers enough to make sure no one escaped, though I did have the tremendous benefit that most of them kept their attention turned on the Phlegethon and the sinners within it.

Watching for a while to try to time patrols near some of the shallowest areas, I also eventually saw a couple members of the Grigori moving along the shore. They spoke with the Demons, and in their shouts, I heard my name mentioned. They pointed towards the thicket, sweeping their gesture over a broad swathe of area, and while some of the Demons they spoke with just shook off their inquiries and turned their focus back to the river, others began dividing their attention between their duties and occasional glances towards the woods. True to the nature of Demons when a reward is likely offered, or they see a chance to perhaps improve their stations, some also gave up on their jobs entirely to travel with the Grigori and aid their hunt. If they didn’t find me, they might well join the sinners in the river, or worse, when their supervisors found them absent. If they did, though, the Fallen Angels with them might be able to get them a better duty. It was just as likely, though, given the Grigori’s nature, that they would leave them to their fates or even report them for shirking their duties, if they were frustrated enough by their failures, or wishing all of the credit for successes. Some were willing to take that chance, while, luckily for me, others were reluctant to trust anything the Fallen said.

I continued to be patient, letting them move down the riverbank until they were out of sight. I gave them a little bit longer, then chanced emerging just a little bit from the thicket, glad to be free of the shallow bite of the thorns, but knowing the chance I was taking. I unslung the bow from my shoulder and nocked an arrow. One of the roving patrol groups had only a couple of members left, the rest having joined with the Grigori to search further up the river. They weren’t especially near the shallows, but I had to take what I could get. Lining up my shot at the one in the rear of the group of two, I fired, putting my arrow through his head. The Demon stumbled, then fell back into the Phlegethon, the splash getting attention from many of the damned. The other turned at the sound—thankfully, there was no scream to draw others from further up the banks. Just before the other Demon was able to sound an alarm, I put an arrow through his throat. The Demon staggered, then tumbled backwards into the boiling blood, clutching at the arrow. None of the damned souls in the river knew what was going on, but at least some of them weren’t about to let the opportunity pass. A few braver individuals ventured to the river bank, and crept out of the river. When no one fired arrows or moved to stop them, others ventured out as well.

In truth, there was nowhere for them to go. Some broke for the supposed cover of the thicket, others formed into groups, trying to move quietly towards shallower areas. As they escaped, more and more of the damned started moving towards the shallows. Inevitably, they were going to draw attention. I hoped that the Grigori were far enough away by now that they wouldn’t respond too quickly. Even if I could get across the river, I’d have one more guardian to face to get out of this circle, and I wouldn’t have much of a chance if I had Gadreel or other Fallen right after me.

When the inevitable alarm did go up as the Demons noticed some of their charges escaping, the first responses were arrows and calling for help. Soon after, more Demons moved in direct pursuit. I ducked back and waited for an opportunity, unable to help anyone else, especially against these numbers. I tried to tell myself that these people had made their choices and earned this fate, but I also couldn’t help but think of the cities, and the times the innocent were punished with the guilty, or when sins were judged unevenly. Just or unjust, though, it came down to the thought that unless I got the keys out of Hell, many more would suffer, so I let the scene play out.

Finally, I saw my opening. It was a brief one, but waiting too long would have been disastrous, as, eventually, the alert would reach the Fallen, who would doubtless see my hand in this. A group of Demons who had remained on the shoreline with their bows was fending off a surge of attempted escapees from the river. The group had looked small enough, perhaps, to be vulnerable, with half of their number off in pursuit of those who’d already fled up the banks. Two of the remaining three were minor Demons, while the last was of a higher order, more intelligent, and winged, to better patrol out over the river.

As soon as a few more Demons ran past me into the thicket after some of those fleeing, I charged. While the group on the bank had been handling the mass of damned souls reasonably well, they were still occupied enough that they didn’t seem me coming. I got close enough to run one through with my sword, twisting the blade. The other lesser Demon turned at the sound, but I hit him with my wing, knocking him into the lake of boiling blood. There, the sheer weight of desperate souls and grabbing hands bore him under. The last dropped his bow to try and go for his sword, but I got my sword free, and took his hand off at the wrist before he could draw. Grabbing him by the throat to cut off a cry, I pulled him in. He nodded his understanding when I informed him that he was going to carry me over the river to the far bank, or his head would be the next thing he’d lose.

The flight was unsteady, and I was pretty certain he thought about trying to throw me more than once. I kept my sword to his neck, though, and my grip tight. He faltered about halfway across under the added weight and strain, and we began losing ground. Normally, I’d have tried to glide from there, but my wing wasn’t going to allow for that, so I held on and did my best with my own wings to add a little lift.

I was so intent on the struggle to get across that I didn’t notice the other treachery he had planned. We were struggling towards the far bank—right towards another group. They were so intent on the chaos on the opposite side of the Phlegethon that they hadn’t looked up, but we were losing altitude so fast, that wouldn’t matter for long.

If he’d expected help from them, he hadn’t thought ahead very far. As soon as they saw us, the group turned their bows off of the damned souls and towards us, shooting without hesitation. My ride shielded me from all but a graze or two, but he went into a full dive. I pushed off as best I could and beat my wings furiously, trying to keep some forward momentum. I landed in the shallows, feeling the intense heat as boiling blood splashed my lower legs, but I was able to keep rushing, as the group fumbled for blades instead of bows. I killed two before they’d gotten their blades out. A third tried to stab me in the back, but thankfully only caught my wing. I parried another’s attack and put my sword through the attacker’s throat. I took a cut across one arm, thankfully, not very deep. I knocked one of the three remaining into the Phlegethon, where more of the damned held him down for me, starting to swarm towards the shore.

When another swing came at me, I caught my attacker’s wrist and put my blade through his stomach. The last of the Demons lunged for the apparent opening while I killed the other, but I managed to block the attack with my damaged wing. Normally, that should have deflected the blow entirely, but now, it was torn up badly enough that the deflection sent a shock of pain through my shoulder. The damned were just reaching us, trying to drag him down. I spared them the trouble and took his head off. I nearly left them to struggle with the Demon I’d merely knocked into the river, but I couldn’t risk him breaking free and spreading the alarm too soon. As soon as he got his head above the blood, I put my sword through it.