There But For The Grace (6 page)

The greatest difficulty was climbing. Every time I moved the injured arm, it shifted the arrowhead around, worsening the injury itself. I still wasn’t near any of the cave or tunnel openings, so my only option was to keep climbing. Most of the arrows were striking the stone well below me, and looking back over my shoulder, I thought I was out of range of most. Then another arrow struck one calf, digging in deep.

I was fortunate that two more shots missed. That gave me enough time, even climbing as slowly as I was, to pull myself into a shallow recess in the wall. I had hoped, viewing it from below, that there might be a passage or something leading deeper, but the wall was solid. At least it gave me a few moments out of their sight to do what I could about the injuries. I managed to pull the arrow out of my shoulder, but tore the injury open further in the process, spattering the recess with blood. The one in my calf proved more difficult, with the tip partly lodged in the bone.

I gave up on that when I heard the sound of wings. Looking over the edge, I saw two Fallen rising rapidly towards me. One still had his bow out, despite how unsteady shooting on the wing was. The other had drawn a sword instead. I had to pull my head back as an arrow came at me. While that shot missed, I wouldn’t have shelter for long. The shouts from the group below would also draw more attention soon, some of whom would probably be able to join the two coming at me in the air.

I used the few seconds they still needed to reach me getting ready to run, crouching as far back as the recess allowed. As soon as I saw the first rising above my hiding place, I pushed off of the wall. They had clearly intended to be back far enough that I couldn’t easily reach them, and the Fallen with the bow had backed away further still, but with the leap, and spreading my wings to add distance, I was able to grab onto the swordsman’s ankle with one hand, jamming the head of the arrow I’d drawn from my shoulder into his leg for additional grip.

He tried to shake me off, while the other attempted to get a clear shot, missing with his first attempt when I managed to swing out of the arrow’s path. I climbed, drawing the arrow out and digging it in higher, pulling myself up. Though he had initially struggled to stay airborne and balanced, once he recovered, he began to rise higher in his efforts to shake me off. He swung his sword but couldn’t get a good angle of attack or any real power behind a swing, and I was able to fend the blows off with a wing. Likewise, another arrow hit and deflected away from my wing, taking some feathers with it. He swung again, and I once again managed to catch the blade on my wing, slightly injuring it, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.

Seeing the archer lining up another shot as best he could just below us, I managed to jam the arrow into the swordsman’s hip, and from there, pulled myself up enough to grab his belt. Ceasing to attempt to slash with the blade, he clubbed me with the hilt of the sword instead. I think he was aiming for my head, but missed due to the awkward angle and hit my shoulder instead. The impact almost knocked me loose anyway, before driving the arrow into his stomach. When he swung again, I managed to grab his wrist, grappling with him in mid-air as he beat his wings furiously to try to stay airborne and in control. I twisted the arrow in his stomach, drawing a scream, especially when another shove drove the arrowhead deeper.

He dropped the sword and struggled less, as I twisted and turned the arrow, finally managing to angle it upward before pushing again. He tipped forward with my weight, starting to fall. Pulling the arrow free, I grabbed for the bow on his back with my free hand and pushed away from him as best I could. Extending my wings, I managed to control my fall enough to hit another recess in the wall, holding on to both weapons. The Fallen I’d been grappling with was less fortunate, hitting the wall head on, before going tumbling back into the depths.

Just as I was pulling myself up, I felt an arrow dig into my side. The bowman was already nocking another, now that I no longer had his ally for cover. There was nowhere I could reach with greater cover and limited room to even dodge, so I knelt, curling a wing about me just before he fired. The arrow at this range plunged through it, sticking halfway through my wing, but never pierced flesh. As he reached for another arrow, I drew my wing back and fired the only shot I was going to get. The arrow hit one eye, the other staring at me in disbelief for a moment, before the Fallen dropped his bow, while the other hand clenched around the just-drawn arrow as if it might save him. Then he, too, plunged towards the ground below.

Knowing plenty more would be coming, I put the bow over my shoulder and started climbing again. The arrow wounds would need tending as soon as possible, but that wasn’t right now. At least, provided I could remove them without breaking them, I’d have two shots. It wasn’t many, and I’d always preferred swords to bows anyway, but it was better than not having a ranged option at all.

There were more voices coming up from below by the time I reached the first cave mouth with a passageway leading out from it. After all of the effort to climb, of course it would slope downward.

***

Getting the arrow out of my wing was relatively easy. The one in my calf proved far more difficult, starting with getting the barbed tip out of the bone. Still, I managed to save both arrows and salvage enough scraps of my jacket, after bandaging the wounds, to carry the bow and the arrows somewhat more easily. When I didn’t hear sounds of pursuit for a while, I doubled back on my own trail a few times, trying to confuse the hounds. I’d left enough of a blood trail that I needed to do something, even if it slowed progress.

Eventually, I found another steep climb up, though the walls were wet and slippery. Reaching the top, I found a chamber filled with a warm mist and heard the sound of moving water, echoing through the caverns. Though there were a few exits, I picked one trying to move towards the water, even if the precise direction of the sound was difficult to discern from the echoes through the chambers. Hell might not follow the normal rules regarding such things, but moving water still usually came from somewhere. As I walked, I started growing disoriented, though my wounds were bothering me less. I took it, initially, for the effects of the fights and injuries. I shook it off as best I could, eventually managing to find the source of the sound. A slow-moving, deep stream of water ran through an open chamber, eventually plunging off a crevasse. I couldn’t see many details below due to the thick mist and steam, but the presence of the latter, and the faint reddish glow below suggested that the water eventually fed into some of the boiling hot springs in the depths. I was about to collect some water to clean my injuries when I thought better of it. There may be no Charon on the Styx, but some of Hell’s waters were still known to have terrible effects on those who came in contact with them. It wasn’t long after that that my foggy brain put together the idea that the mist in the area might have a great deal to do with my disorientation.

The effect grew worse after I got a running start, and glided over the water to reach another passage. I didn’t make it by much, but did manage to land safely, though I couldn’t stay on my feet on the landing. Getting my balance back took far too long, before I managed to stagger to the passage out. I’m not sure how long it took me to get clear of the mists, but I did finally manage to stagger out of them and even managed to find something of a hiding place to roll into while trying to focus and clear my head.

In the midst of trying to center myself enough to meditate again, I heard Adelaide’s voice, though I wasn’t able to make out the words of whatever prayer she was saying.

I stayed hidden, trying to focus in on that familiar voice, in hopes it might help me center myself again and fight off the effects of the injuries and the infernal waters. As I did, I heard it again. Clearer this time, but with an echo to it. A little more time, and I figured out that it wasn’t just a voice in my head, nor was it prayers. Her voice was coming from the dark cavern I’d hidden in.

Peering out, I noticed a light coming towards me from one of the side passages. As it got closer, the light hid some of the precise features, but I was able to make out a very familiar feminine form. She continued to call, “Tabbris... Tab. We need to get out of here. We don’t have much time.” I got a better look at her when she turned, trying to aim her lantern’s light down one of the passages from the chamber, which verified what my ears were telling me.

“Addy...” I called in a loud whisper, drawing my sword and rolling out of my hiding place before she disappeared down the passage. “How did you get here?”

She turned, holding up a knife in one hand, the lantern in the other, and backing against the nearest wall in a near panic. “Tab? Is that really you?”

I moved toward her, trying to stay steady. “What are you doing here?”

She pitched forward, wrapping her arms around me, almost knocking both of us over in my current condition. “Gabriel is providing a distraction. He helped me get in.”

“Gabriel? This is his plan?”

“He said he knew a guy who owed him a favor. I guess he was right,” she stepped back, glancing at the lantern. “They said this would show me the way to you. And now it’s supposed to help us get out.”

“What about Iaoel?”

“After what she did back on Earth? Raphael helped me with some techniques to keep her locked down. I’m running the show now. It means I don’t get as many visions, but right now, I’m okay with that.”

“So am I. But are you sure Lucifer’s not still tracking you?”

“No, no. The Archangels helped with that, too. It took way too long. I wanted to come here right away. So did Michael. You should have seen the argument. He finally agreed to get us here, and be a big, shiny distraction while we snuck in.”

I held her at arm’s length, looking into her eyes. “Are you sure? Be absolutely sure when you answer. He’s powerful, and he’s manipulating everyone. He set all of this up.”

She blinked. “I know he’s powerful, but he wasn’t even at the battle.”

“Of course he wasn’t. Don’t you see? The keys are just bait to him. He’ll sacrifice anyone and everyone to set up his victory scenario.”

“No, no. Getting the keys here, that was the Grigori’s plan. Samyaza’s plan. They’re already marshalling forces to storm the gates as soon as they recover the keys. We’ve seen them.”

“I’m sure you have. Or you’ve seen something. And I’m sure that’s what Samyaza thinks he’s doing. Lucifer is going to sacrifice them—and anyone else he needs to—to Michael and the host. He’s been playing everyone all along, and it’s not just Michael he needs to get rid of. Everyone who knows him too well, who’ll plot against him if he doesn’t beat them to it. And as long as Samyaza has Penemue on his side, he’s a threat to the long-term plan.”

She paused, thinking that through. “The Archangels are sure that whatever he had on me is gone. We need to get out of here.”

“We do.”

“I just need to hear it one more time, Tab, please.”

She embraced me tighter, head tilting up, looking into my eyes. “What you said back on Earth, when you saved me. Just... tell me you love me. Tell me it will be okay, that we’ll make it out, and we can be together.”

“That would pull you into a lot more of this. I don’t want this life for you.”

“I don’t care. I wasn’t going anywhere. If it means I can stay with you, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes?”

“Anything.” She leaned up to kiss me.

I twisted her arm behind her back, trapping the knife there, while my other hand kept her trapped close to me so she couldn’t get much force behind any efforts to punch, kick, or hit me with the lantern. “Go and tell whoever you have waiting in ambush what I told you about Lucifer. He’s going to betray as many people as he needs. Including all of his generals.”

She fought back as best she could, writhing and kicking ineffectually. “Let me go! Tab, what are you doing?! I don’t have anyone waiting except Gabriel!”

“Drop the act, and the body. You’re not fooling me.”

She hissed, and as she did, her mouth deformed, opening far too wide, as fangs developed. She tried to bite me, but I managed to wrestle her around, grabbing her hair with the off-hand, and twisting her arm high up on her back. Then I shoved her up against the wall, pinning her there.

She finally stopped struggling, dropping both the knife and the lantern, as she started to shift into the form of a Middle Eastern beauty wearing minimalist, almost see-through sashes. “This could be really hot, if you’d lighten up a little, Tabbris.”

“Eisheth.” I recognized her, if only in passing. “What do you want, Princess?”

She quickly dropped the flirting as I mentioned her technical title. Even if she was as old as—and often associated with—Lilith, Naamah, and Agrat bat Mahlat, she’d never quite earned the level of respect or station the other succubae had. “What do you think? The Watchers want the keys. They made sure I want to deliver them to them, or at least deliver you.”

“How did you know what happened on Earth?”

“They told me, of course. They told me everything they heard there, and all about you, and Adelaide too. You shouldn’t have said anything, Tabbris. They’ll catch her, and you know what they do to women they catch. Gadreel is hoping he can make you watch.”

I twisted her arm harder, drawing a scream that turned into something more like a groan. “She’s safe. I made sure of it.”

“How long do you think the Archangels will protect her when she’s no longer useful for anything? She doesn’t have the keys. The only thing she’s good for now is torturing you.”

“Typical. You underestimate her too.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“You’ve already shown just how well you don’t know her.”

“How did you figure it out, anyway?”

“And tell you how to improve your act next time? I don’t think so,” I wasn’t about to tell her that in my fogged-brained state, her story had seemed plausible, right up until she failed to greet my question about Iaoel with “fuck,” “bitch,” or more colorful descriptions. “Go deliver the message.”