| |
Overall, the trip to France being made without having to physically fly anywhere was a relief to Imorean. Even Raphael’s near total silence hadn’t bothered him too much. His sword and personal items had been reclaimed from Kerubiel. He was on the way back to Felsenmeer. Just one quick stop in France, then he would he home. He stretched and adjusted his head on the inside hull of the plane. Now that the action and adrenaline were gone from his system, all he felt was tired.
“You got lucky,” said Raphael, adjusting a magazine on his lap.
Imorean pushed his hair out of his eyes and adjusted his unseen wings against the seat. “Ooh. Are we speaking again?”
“I apologize if I have been cool. To have to go and retrieve you from Italy was rather an inconvenience.”
Imorean scoffed. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”
Raphael laughed quietly, then sobered. “I shouldn’t be too annoyed. I had to be in Europe anyway. Michael and I have something we would like to discuss with you.”
“Oh?” asked Imorean, sitting up straight. Relief welled up in his chest as the seat belt sign over their seats pinged on. They were nearly there. Raphael grunted and flipped a magazine page.
“That’s all the information you’re going to give?” Imorean adjusted his position.
“It concerns Ryan and, of all angels, Sariel.”
Imorean frowned. Sariel. The absolute last Archangel he wanted to see. After being cooped up with Kerubiel, Imorean wasn’t sure how much more aggression he could take. Jealousy. Sariel’s reigning emotion. Imorean swallowed. He could almost understand it. He had fast-tracked into a position that Sariel had been after his entire existence. Stolen it from underneath him. It hadn’t been his decision, though. Imorean glanced out the window. Even though Sariel’s disposition, according to Michael, was much closer to Raphael’s, he couldn’t help but wonder if Sariel would have been a better Upper Archangel than him. Raphael’s voice jerked Imorean’s attention back.
“He will be in France as well. In fact, we will be meeting him when we land.”
“What for?”
“We have a meeting that is long overdue. Remiel and Raguel will also be there.”
“The only Archangels not there would be Gabriel and Uriel,” said Imorean.
“Indeed.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“You, Imorean. We need to determine you. And now, I will say no more.”
Imorean swallowed and glanced out of the plane window. They were descending. To what, though, he had no idea.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
TRAVELLING WITHOUT heavy baggage was one of the best things about owning an AL Pack. Imorean tightened his backpack straps over his shoulders. His AL Pack and sword safely tucked away. The airport in Nice, France had not been impressive – an airport like any other. He had been in so many now, they were beginning to blur together.
Bright sunlight hit Imorean’s eyes hard as he and Raphael stepped out of the airport terminal. Salt carried on the air. Nice was on France’s southern coast, but somehow the smell still caught Imorean by surprise.
“We’ve been waiting.”
Imorean looked up. Sariel had been leaning on a metal support beam just outside the terminal. He rolled his eyes as he caught Sariel’s look of disgust.
“We cannot speed up humanity, Sariel,” sighed Raphael. “Where are Michael, Remiel and Raguel?”
“Currently hiding in the foothills north of Saint-Jeannet. Michael figured it would be better to drop off the radar completely for a while. Meaning, beyond planes, not use anything human.”
“Indeed. The Cherubim are not happy with him or with Imorean. And Vortigern’s forces are on edge knowing that the Archangels are moving.”
Imorean bristled as Sariel shot him another look of contempt. He shuffled his wings beneath his jacket and made sure he was still mentally covering them. “Are you going to take us there?”
“Are you going to make a nuisance of yourself in this country?” snapped Sariel. “Do you even know how to teleport along the astral plane yet?”
“I’m learning,” replied Imorean, fighting the embarrassment that caught his throat.
Sariel sneered. “Cute.”
“Teleport us, Sariel,” sighed Raphael. “I am tired.”
“Yes, sir,” nodded Sariel.
Imorean couldn’t help giving him a nasty look, but the world was already turning. Vision filmed over rosy and Imorean leaned back. His feet left the ground. His ears rushed. Every sense came alight. He blinked. Through the blurring world, a forest drew into sight. Tree covered mountains rose up from the ground. There was another shift. He didn’t know why, but he steeled his nerves. He caught himself as his feet slammed into the ground. He stumbled half a pace, then drew himself upright again. Mountains. They were in the mountains. Not a building in sight. He looked around. These mountains were oddly bare, with only scrubby trees covering them closer to the summits. The valleys looked greener.
“Where are we?” asked Imorean.
Sariel huffed, shaking a gathering of rose-colored light away from his hand. “No idea. This is just where Michael decided to hole up. Some forest.”
“Southern foothills of the Alps, Imorean. We must be ... around fifteen miles from Nice,” said Raphael. “Sariel, how far to Michael and the others?”
Sariel nodded at a valley some distance away. Imorean knew better than to try to judge the distance. Mountain distances were always deceptive. “Down there in that ravine. Along La Cagne.”
Raphael nodded and his black-blue wings flared.
“Coming?” Sariel asked as he turned. “Or staying?”
Imorean inclined his head, stretching out his wings. “What do you mean?”
“I just figured you were going to sit here until Michael came to babysit you.”
“Why are you so petty?” asked Imorean, shaking his right wing. It was stiff.
“Because I don’t like you,” replied Sariel. Something in his eyes hardened. “Nothing on my position has changed about you. I still don’t think you deserve to call yourself an Archangel, much less work one-on-one with Michael. Have you asked?”
Imorean took a deep breath. Thoughts of Mexico surfaced – his near inability to protect his teammates. He had practically led Bethany to the Aztec gods and nearly been sacrificed – would have been if she hadn’t gotten in the way. Norway against Fenrir. He’d almost gotten Raphael killed. Italy. He’d been arrested. He was only just working on his teleporting skills. He was still plagued by nightmares. He wasn’t someone who deserved to work with an Archangel at all, let alone with the Chief Archangel. He was only a squad leader. One who barely knew what they were doing.
“You aren’t the only one, Sariel. And if you must know, I haven’t asked.”
Imorean felt Sariel’s confusion as he brushed past, but he didn’t pause. He took to the air, locking his eyes on Raphael, little more than a speck in the distance. It would be good to have distance between himself and Sariel. Imorean closed his eyes and beat his wings hard, letting himself slip sideways onto the astral plane. White flooded his vision, orange showed life. He tucked as an air current approached and rolled through it, shifting the air around him. For the first time in days, he felt relaxed. Attention brushed the side of his head. There was weight back to his mind.
“Why are you wasting energy?”
Imorean shifted his wings and banked as he heard Michael’s voice in his head. They hadn’t been properly connected for the last two days. It was nice to feel him back.
“Having a bit of fun,” replied Imorean.
“Well stop. And start your descent. I need you aware for the conversation we are about to have.”
Imorean sighed. He pulled back. The world faded to color. The orange of life dropped away. He glanced down. The mountaintops dropped into a ravine. A ribbon of clear, blue water flowed in the bottom. He spun, twisting himself over and down, diving toward the river. Air currents changed as he dropped below the mountain plateau heights. He followed the river for only moments, before he felt Michael’s presence again. Stronger this time. He was close. Raphael was with him and two other presences that could only be Remiel and Raguel. Imorean tilted his wings and rounded a bend in the river, wide banks flanking each side of it now. Michael stood on a rocky riverbank, the forest dark at his back. Imorean pulled up and slowed as Michael locked eyes with him and flared his wings. White wings furled up as Imorean landed on the riverbank.
“Long time no see. Get what you needed?” he asked, giving Michael a smile.
“I did. Thanks to you,” replied Michael, raising a cardboard tube. “You were invaluable on that mission. I owe you a thanks, Imorean.”
Raphael approached from the trees, shaking out his wings, and Imorean glanced up as Sariel soared overhead, swooping to land further in the forest.
“I think that’s the most indebted I’ve ever heard you, Brother,” said Raphael, brushing wings with Michael.
“You got me thrown in jail for a night, but yeah, happy to help,” replied Imorean. “Blood sacrifice next time?”
Michael sighed and shook his head, but Imorean smiled. He could feel Michael’s amusement. His smile faded as he felt it dampen a moment later.
“That’s the map?” asked Imorean.
“It is. Written in old Enochian, to boot. Raphael will need some time to translate it, but it should not be hard. More syntactically challenging than anything else and I am sure that Colton will want to help him. Paititi will be found soon enough and the next part of our maneuver against Vortigern will be executed. Personally, I feel there is more to be discussed on that matter another day,” said Michael. “Raguel took the liberty of setting up a hammock for you.”
“What’s going on?” asked Imorean. Something didn’t feel right. “Raphael said you had to ‘determine’ me.”
“We do,” nodded Michael. “We have hit something of a snag in our plan to gather the artifacts. Come on.”
Imorean followed Michael further into the forest. Hammocks were set up in a circle. A small fire burned in the center of them.
“Hello, Imorean!”
An arm slung around Imorean’s shoulders and he stumbled a step. As he looked up, he smiled, recognizing the presence. Dusky red, burgundy. Raguel. His hair was even more sun-bleached than Imorean remembered it, but his eyes were still as dark and warm as ever.
“Hey, Raguel.”
“How are you?” asked Raguel. “Great to see you again.”
“Raguel,” snapped Michael. “Curb your enthusiasm. There will be time to catch up with one another after this.”
“Takes all the fun out of everything, doesn’t he,” grinned Raguel, falling back and crossing to the other side of the hammock circle.
“What he does best,” muttered Imorean.
“I would appreciate it if you did not gang up on me,” said Michael. Something in his tone snapped Imorean back to seriousness. He glanced around the circle of Archangels as Remiel and Sariel drew closer.
“Imorean,” said Remiel, his voice just as quiet as Imorean remembered it.
“Hey, Remiel,” he replied. A rush of irritation rapped the side of his head. He turned to Michael and shot a thought toward him. “I’m just being polite.”
Michael leaned on one of the trees and folded his arms. “I am sorry that our conditions are not more comfortable, but I decided it would be best if we remained on European turf as opposed to gathering at Felsenmeer.”
Imorean blinked at Michael. They weren’t going back? He couldn’t help bristling. This was news to him.
“First and foremost, this minimizes our movements. It keeps our location incognito and will let us be less traceable. Now, as you all know, Imorean, his squad, Gabriel, Raphael and I have been working on gathering ancient artifacts from around the world that will help give us the power to trap Vortigern back in hell with a sense of permanence. Getting rid of him is imperative. He is a figurehead and demons from all over the world rally behind him. The issue is that after the mission to Mexico, our actions were revealed to Vortigern by Bethany Voran.”
A sense of horror took over Imorean as Michael looked around their circle. He looked down, trying to ignore the stares pressing in from all sides. But then Michael was speaking again. Imorean’s heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest. He dreaded what Michael would say. Foreboding took up residence in his veins. Something wasn’t right.
“Vortigern is aware of our movements now. We have to accelerate. This means dividing ourselves for a short time to carry out the tasks that were allotted originally to only Imorean’s squad. This is a risky maneuver, as we will be spread across much of the globe. Until further notice, any major meetings will be held on the astral plane. It will take more effort for us all to connect, but we will make it work. Before I give out tasks, though, Imorean, we need to deal with you.”
“Yeah?” Imorean’s heart was racing. But why?
Michael’s aura shifted. “First, I have to say that according to Gabriel’s reports, your squad has been doing beautifully under Ryan’s leadership. He has been able to step up and fill your position in your absence. Perhaps better than anyone ever expected.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” asked Imorean. “He can take my place if anything ... happens to me.”
“That depends entirely upon your own interpretation. With regards to this latest mission, I am impressed. You have taken to Archangel powers almost as naturally as if you had been born to us. Kerubiel sent me some footage of you inside the Vatican buildings. You remained in control of the release of your powers. You are a fine line away from retaining that control while using your powers and I know you will find a balance. I believe if you allow your instincts to guide you, and with a small amount of honing, your talents will be just as sharp as our own. Time in fine-tuning these skills will be your greatest ally. I will continue to work with you and teach you new powers, talents and abilities. You have my compliments. While full control is still necessary, your powers have a solid basis. This is the response you were hoping for from me, correct?”
Imorean nodded. Why did he have such an unsettled feeling about this? There was another shift in Michael’s aura, and Imorean swallowed. “Yes. It is.”
“Where would you prefer to go on your next mission? Peru, Houska or Egypt? Your choice.”
“It’s always been Houska for me, Michael. You know that. That’s why I’ve been fighting so hard to try to get in touch with ...” He gestured to himself and half-flared his wings. “This. My mom. Isaac and Rachel. Toddy. I can’t leave them. I won’t.”
“I understand.” Michael blinked and Imorean felt a flare of regret in him. “Then, Imorean, I regret to inform you that you are fired from your position as squad leader.”
