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NECHUM DISMISSED HIS force-fields, and the translucent plating protecting his head, arms, and torso dissolved. The full weight of his brother sank into his arms. Alameth felt so limp, so fragile, like powdered ash easily blown by the wind. Nothing like the strong, stalwart angel he knew he truly was.
Careful not to bother one scratch, Nechum set Alameth on his side. “Sorry it took us so long, brother,” he said. Rough metal scuffed his fingers as he pried at the shackles. After no success, Nechum formed a shield the size of a toothpick and inserted it into the lock. “But we’re all getting out of here. Jediah is handling Yakum. Akela is—” Nechum’s hands stilled. “Coming. H-he’ll be coming.”
He rocked and tipped the pick against the tumblers. The lock clicked, and the second the cuffs slipped off, Nechum threw them as far as possible. With that, he turned his attention to Laszio and Eran. He called their names, but neither answered. They laid a foot away, unmoving.
Nechum’s mouth went dry. He rushed to their sides. Alameth’s handiwork had rendered their lower halves to mush. He brushed Eran’s arm. Eran rolled over, and parts of him strung behind like spilt honey off a table.
Nechum’s clammy palms cupped his mouth. Despite knowing they’d soon recover, to Nechum, anyone living through mutilation like this was worse for them than simply dying from it. There’d be no release. They’d have to suffer from beginning to end.
Alameth moaned. He curled in on himself and pressed his forehead hard into the stone floor.
“No, no, no, no,” Nechum consoled, as he crawled back to him. “Stay still. Don’t move.” Crossing his legs, he supported Alameth’s neck and nestled his head into his lap.
Alameth’s pants hastened. His eyes, pitch as tar, darted around, not settling anywhere. Nechum’s senses jittered to his trauma. He placed a firm palm over Alameth’s eyes, encouraging them to close. “Lord?” he prayed. “I rely on You. Make clear to me the nature of this affliction that’s befallen Alameth.”
A gentle warmth churned inside of Nechum. Glory turned his clothes white. Its pure tides streamed down his sleeve and poured into Alameth’s wounds, from the heavy slashes to the minor cuts. The brilliance filled Alameth as water fills a glass. It illuminated him and revealed a black blotch in his chest that swirled like mud caught under an ice sheet.
Without a second thought, Nechum fitted a pointed shield to his hand and punctured Alameth’s chest. Alameth hollered. Putrid gases leaked, and a rubbery substance gushed out. Nechum seized the gunk with his bare hand. He pinned Alameth down with his free hand while he yanked with the other.
The stubborn slime stretched and stretched. Agitated, Nechum tightened his fist. Liquid fungus squiggled between his fingers, but as soon as he pulled it to a full arm’s length, the black goo and all its roots snapped out of its host.
Nechum’s heart jumped in his throat. He thought it’d be over, but instead of going limp, the substance wriggled around, latched to his wrist, and groped to consume his forearm. He yelped as a good portion of the blob wriggled free, but in a popping flash, a wave of glory engulfed Nechum’s fist. It burned the blotch in purple bursts so rapidly that Nechum dropped it. Scattered sparks flitted, then puffed to nothing on the floor.
For a moment, Nechum sat stunned as his white clothes returned to blue, but then he noticed movement from Laszio. The half-awake soldier locked gazes with him—his brow creased in concern and remorse. Nechum read it all on his face. Laszio had heard and seen everything.
Alameth groaned, but the sound of it was quieter, less labored than before. He squinted. The original emerald hue of his irises peeked through, and to Nechum, they were as precious as gems once lost to desert sands.
Alameth grimaced as he swallowed.
Nechum cracked a weary smile. “Welcome back, brother.”
As Alameth’s eyes circled, they fixated on their surroundings. Soil leaked from the near collapsed ceiling. Fungus cultivated where sickly ooze had dried, feasting on the decomposed bacteria. Rodents wandered in, attracted by the bugs who also ate the rot.
Alameth’s chest rose and fell faster. “Did I do this?” he asked.
Unable to be honest yet unwilling to lie, Nechum massaged Alameth’s shoulders.
Pursing his lips, Alameth closed his eyes. Tears escaped their corners.
Nechum squeezed his hand and repeated, “It wasn’t your fault.”
At that moment, Eran stirred and tried to sit up. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Laszio tapped his shoulder, pressed a finger to his lips, and gestured toward Alameth, who then had buried his face in Nechum’s sleeve.
Footsteps echoed from the tunnel, but to Nechum’s great relief, Jediah came into view. He was hunched. His right hand clutched an opened shoulder, but he still returned in one piece.
Jediah trudged to meet them, exhaustion in every breath.
“Is it over?” Nechum asked.
Jediah’s watering eyes were glued to Laszio and Eran, who were trying to prop themselves up against larger rubble. “Yes,” Jediah answered. “Our mission is over.”
Nechum’s chest tightened. The mission wasn’t over. Whether anyone besides himself realized it, there remained a far greater purpose to this than the capture of two demons. A need—Jediah’s need—had yet to be met, but Nechum didn’t know how to proceed with it. What could an angel say or do for another angel such as him? One who was so bent on understanding what none of them could experience that he’d risk sending traceable letters to a sick child?
Rubbing his eyes, Nechum prayed. “Alameth wasn’t near as complicated as this, Lord. I can’t even begin to approach. What do you expect me to do?”
Jediah knelt beside Alameth and took his hand. “Alameth.” His heartsick eyes darted everywhere as he searched for the words. A husked, restrained sob escaped him. “I don’t know whether I should hug you or slap you.”
An airy chuckle passed through Alameth’s split lips.
Jediah rubbed his mouth and recollected himself. “Why? Why did you do that?”
Taking his time, Alameth grunted and lifted on one elbow. He raised his trembling hand over Jediah’s good shoulder and took hold of Jediah’s sword. His knuckles tightened. “We reflect God to everyone, right?” Their eyes connected. Then, just as his head lolled, Alameth’s hand left the sword to slip down and touch Jediah’s scarf—at the very spot where the stitched cross sat in the center of the Captain’s crest.
Nechum watched the dark portions of Jediah’s eyes lighten. A few of the creases that aged his face faded—if for a second.
“You’re not looking so good, old friend,” an ominous voice uttered.
The hope in Jediah’s face dimmed. His posture went rigid.
Sensing Elazar’s bitterness, Nechum frowned at the demon, who glared at Jediah’s back. His hideous scar looked longer and fresher since the last he saw him in the Forbidden City.
Jediah’s hands curled into fists.
Lengthening his back, Laszio shook a fist at Elazar. “Now you get out of here. Just get out of here! Can’t you leave Jediah well enough alone?”
“Laszio,” Jediah said in an almost hushed voice. He rose, turned around, and protected his shoulder wound with an extra layer of armored feathers.
“Weren’t there six in your party?” Elazar asked. He swung Akela’s satchel by the strap. “Never mind. I guessed he vaporized himself.” He tossed the bag, and gold puffed from its leather. “And besides that, I found this in the tunnels.” Between two fingers, he displayed a torn envelope. He tipped it forward, and a small braid flopped out. Its shape on the ground mimicked the body of a dead child.
Nechum sensed Jediah’s building rage as Elazar began reading the letter he obviously already read. “Little miss Chloe, huh?” He shook his head. “Not such a noble deed to exploit girls to get what you want, Captain. Still, you seem to be in a bit of a quandary. You’ve got a message, but no messenger to send it. Shall I do you the favor?”
Jediah’s hand snapped to his sword. “Don’t bait me, demon!”
With a smirk, Elazar refolded the letter and stepped closer in challenge.
On protective instinct, Nechum clutched Jediah’s arm to hold him back, but the steadiness in Jediah’s darkened eyes urged him not to interfere. After an uncomfortable silence, Nechum stared at the ground, defeated and dreading the outcome.
Elazar and Jediah stepped closer and closer until they were an arm’s length apart. Centuries of bitter tension between them spurned one’s hatred and the other’s grief.
Flaunting the letter, Elazar waved it in Jediah’s face. “Ready to fight or bargain for it, Captain?” he asked.
At that, Jediah punched Elazar square in the nose and snatched the letter from his hand.
Nechum released a breath. Was that really it? Was that all it took?
Elazar sniffed, and he cupped his chin to catch the red energy that dripped from his nose. Yet he smiled. “Humph, knew you wouldn’t.” He raised a glowing hand. “Hence why I brought backup.” A red shield broke the cragged ground under Jediah’s feet, and heavy rocks battered him down into the pit.
Nechum got up as fast as he could to follow Jediah into the hole, but Elazar destroyed the ceiling, too. More rocks rushed in, filling the cavity like a waterfall in an empty river, and making it impossible for Nechum to know how much earth he’d have to phase through to reach Jediah.
Elazar reclaimed the letter and dusted it off. He smiled at the cataclysm he caused, then cast a grin at the angels. “Well, I did my part,” he commented.
As he watched the wretched demon walk away, Nechum’s neck heated. He didn’t know yet what to do, but all he knew, and all that mattered, was that he just became the last line of defense between Elazar and Chloe. Nechum sprinted.
Hearing his footsteps, Elazar snapped around to raise a barrier, but in the split second before his shield manifested, Nechum leaped over its breech. He barrel rolled, stole the letter, and tucked it under his tunic. “I read the letter too, Elazar. We both know Jediah didn’t disclose Chloe’s location. You don’t actually know where she lives.”
“True,” Elazar admitted. “But there’s more than enough incriminating clues to go on.” His hands glowed red. “Hand it over.”
Nechum recognized Elazar’s technique. He used energy shifting, the art of shifting one’s focal energy point from one spot to another, to weaponize his shields. Akela used the same tactic on Io to speed them both to safety after his wings burned. Few angels or demons could do it with such flawless skill as Elazar showed, but Nechum steeled himself. It would hurt, but if he were to protect Chloe, he had to try.
Energy compounded and burned in Nechum’s fingers as he forced most of it into his hands. Blue colors glowed in his palms as he stabilized the shift.
Elazar gave a lopsided smile. “Well, this ought to be interesting.”
Nechum rushed in. Their hands of red and blue counteracted, repelling their opposite.