“Well, well, well. Boys, I think we’ve caught ourselves an Archangel.” The demon, a giant red-headed guardian like Reuel, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from me as we descended the mountain. He carried a sword like mine, but bigger, on his hip. And around his neck was a purple sanctonite stone.
Our wings still wouldn’t work, controlled by some kind of magic. There were six angels waiting for us: a messenger, four guardians, and an Angel of Ministry.
“Hello, Reuel,” the guardian with the red hair said.
“Etred.” Reuel’s direct glare was dangerous.
The demon Etred spotted Fury. “Who do we have here?”
Reuel moved Fury behind him. I stayed by her side.
“We don’t want to fight,” Reuel said as we reached the bottom.
Etred laughed. “Then you have come to the wrong place, my old friend. Unless you’ve come to join the dark side.”
One of the smaller demons, the messenger, walked in a wide circle around us.
The Angel of Ministry, a rare one in human form, was a hunched-back white woman. She inched toward Fury. “This one is human.” She sniffed the air. “And she is dying.”
The word made my stomach turn. I wasn’t helping keep her alive. The events of our previous night might have been her death sentence.
One of the other guardians crouched down. She was also a white woman but far less like Old Mother Hubbard than the Angel of the Ministry. The guardian sprang into the air and landed with a powerful thud between Fury and Reuel. “I know this one,” she hissed, grabbing Fury’s wrist, the one with the key.
Reuel spun and grabbed the demon by her curly black hair. He snapped her arm that was holding Fury, then whipped her over his head and slammed her into the dry cracked dirt, creating a massive crater. The whole ground shook beneath our feet.
The other demons laughed and clapped their hands. “Still got it, I see,” Etred said.
Reuel was panting, snarling through clenched teeth.
The messenger, who I was carefully watching creep behind us, darted suddenly back to his group. He said something in Etred’s ear, then cowered behind him. I felt the weight of my sword at my back and realized he’d seen it.
He was also afraid of it.
“Relax, Reuel.” Etred put his hand on his own sword. “We don’t want to fight either if we can help it, but we have to take you back to the Tower.”
“We need to go there anyway,” Fury whispered.
I pulled the sword from its scabbard, and all eyes followed the blade. “Lead the way.”
“I don’t feel so good.” Fury grabbed onto my arm as we neared the wasteland’s cliffs.
Reuel slowed to walk beside us.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“My eyes. They won’t stop watering. Now they’re starting to burn.”
“Look at me.” When she did, I saw her eyes were bloodshot and wet. “Try to keep them closed. Reuel, you take her.”
He held her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. Knowing my presence wasn’t helping, I hung back to give them as much space as possible.
The demons started down a stone staircase at the edge of the cliff. The bridge was about fifty feet down. The lake beneath it was filled with what looked like fiery molten lava, churning and sloshing against the cliffs. It had a purple glow, and it smelled like rotten eggs.
This was what Hell was supposed to look like.
As we neared the bridge, I heard a faint haunting sound. The hiss and crackle of deadly osmium. I double-stepped to catch up with Fury and Reuel, and when I did, I pulled the front of Fury’s tank top up over her nose.
Unfortunately, she was panting from the walk. She barely opened her eyes. “Moloch…he said…there wasn’t any more…osmium inside.”
“Moloch lied. Surprise, surprise. Keep your eyes closed and your breathing shallow.”
The bridge had no walls or handrails, but it was wide enough for four or five of us to walk side-by-side. It was at least a quarter-mile across to the city. I prayed Fury could make it that far.
In 2005, with a stroke of shitty luck—surprise, surprise—I wound up in New Orleans working body recovery after Hurricane Katrina. The French Quarter was closed. Debris and water sloshed through Bourbon Street. And looters smashed windows and set shit on fire.
Still, a handful of bars were running on weak generators and pumping out screwdrivers served in paper cups.
That was the city at the base of Hell’s fortress. Without all the water. And in this wicked city, my friends and I were freaks, drawing curious stares from the demons—and human souls—who loitered along the streets.
Whispers followed us as we passed.
“The Archangel of Death.”
“Reuel.”
“Azrael.”
And several derogatory remarks flew by about Fury. Miraculously, the three of us didn’t retaliate. Not that Fury could have. The coughing had begun while we were still on the bridge, and now, her wheezing was so loud I could hear her lungs twenty paces behind her.
Fortunately, the farther we got away from the bridge, and the higher we climbed up the city hill, all signs of osmium began to disappear.
But I feared it was too late.
The soul of a human male flung himself at my feet. “Kill me,” he begged, grasping for my legs. “Please, dear God, kill me!”
A symbol glittered in the center of his chest. It was a roman cross with two S’s mirroring each other. It was my mark. The symbol of the Archangel of Death. But the man’s face was unknown to me, meaning he’d been here so long my father was the one to kill him.
I shook him free from my leg and stepped over him, much to the amusement of the voyeurs of death watching nearby.
Etred and his demons started up a steep stone staircase toward the palace. Purple light emanated from the entrance hall at the top. There was another sanctonite stone inside. I could feel it.
Fury stumbled on the stairs, and Reuel caught her around the waist. “Are you OK?” I asked, catching up with them.
She nodded, but her face looked clammy and gray. We’d been walking for hours, and it was clear, the exertion was taking its toll.
I put the back of my hand against her cheek. She was burning up. “Drink some water.” Pulling a bottle from the side pocket on my rucksack, I untwisted the cap and handed it to her. Her shaky hands held it to her lips, dribbling water down her chin.
So far, the demons hadn’t confiscated anything from us. They also hadn’t spoken again, at least not since Reuel’s refusal to answer Etred’s questions about why we were in Nulterra.
I glanced back to the wasteland we’d trekked through. The trailers were gone, and the entire mountaintop had vanished. Without the illusions, I could see a faint purple light over the horizon.
The gate.
It was comforting to know at least its general direction. I searched the land for anything else I could use to map our surroundings. A tall spire of one of the buildings in the city seemed to point right at it from this vantage point. I made a mental note of it.
“Are you coming, Archangel?” Etred called down. The group had reached the top landing without me.
“Just taking in the view. Impressive place you’ve got here,” I said, joining them.
“It’s no Eden, but it’s ours.” He turned toward the high arched entrance. “Welcome to Vykaria.”
I looked at Reuel.
Arai meant throne.
Vykara meant the Destroyer.
As in Abaddon, the Destroyer. If we were going to find Anya, this would be the place.
The doorway led into a massive entrance hall. On the floor was a map, of what I assumed was Nulterra. We weren’t able to stop and linger as the demons started up another staircase to the right.
In the center of the room, high in the ceiling, a bright orb glowed. The sanctonite stone was several feet across, shining down on a cylindrical pillar beneath it. The pillar was covered in capsules. Capsules holding human souls.
The capsules seemed to be rotating around the cylinder, gradually moving down to where they disappeared beneath the floor.
I didn’t have to ask what I was seeing. This was the place souls were destroyed. Near the top, a tiny figure floated inside a capsule. Children were never sent to Nulterra. That was Hannah, the little girl from the village.
Anger raged inside me, but I knew I needed more information before taking action. Before ending this evil practice forever. Before burning Nulterra and all its demons down.
Up ahead of me, Fury stopped walking, her bright-red eyes fixed on the cylinder. “Can you see them?” I asked when I was close enough.
She looked like she was about to cry as she nodded her head. Her shaky finger pointed toward Hannah. “Is that…” Fury’s barely there voice sounded like it had been rubbed down with sandpaper.
“Yeah, that’s her.”
Fury doubled over, coughing again.
“Reuel, help her?” I asked as I backed away.
He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her up the steps.
The Angel of Ministry waited on the top platform. “She doesn’t have long now, does she?”
“We need an Angel of Life to help her,” Reuel said.
“There are no Angels of Life here.” The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “And we wouldn’t help her anyway. In fact, she’s much more useful to us dead.”
Reuel backhanded her with so much force she flew sideways off the landing and crashed to the bottom. Two of the guardians lunged for Reuel and Fury, but I stepped in front of them, holding my sword up to block their attack.
They cowered back.
Etred held up his hands. “Come now. Let’s all take a deep breath.” His eyes were fixed on my sword. “If we can avoid any further delays and violence, I’d like to show you to a room where you can tend to your friend.”
I gave a slight nod.
Etred took a few steps backward cautiously, before turning and continuing down a hallway filled with prison cells. Prison cells that held demons. All of them were watching through the bars on their doors.
Another guardian watched over the hallway.
“Irek,” Etred said, nodding toward the last cell door at the end of the hall. The guardian placed his palm on the door, and it swung open.
Something told me, my powers or Reuel’s wouldn’t be able to do the same.
“Wait here. Someone will come and get you shortly,” Etred said.
I didn’t budge. “I want to see whoever’s in charge here.”
“You will, you will.” Etred gestured toward the room. “Please, you’re our guest. May I take your sword?”
My fist tightened around it. “You can try.”
I’d be in trouble if he did. He was over seven feet, and easily outweighed me by a hundred pounds. Again, he backed away. “Make yourself at home. Someone will come get you shortly.” He walked away.
The guardian didn’t even close our cell door when we walked inside. “This is weird. Something is very wrong here,” I said.
Reuel set Fury down on a bench along the wall. “Would you rather they disarm and shackle us?”
“It would make more sense.” I laid the blade of my sword across my hand. “That guy was carrying a helkrymite sword just like mine. Bigger, even. But mine was making him nervous. Did you see that?”
“I did.” He helped Fury lay down on her back. “Warren, this isn’t good.”
I put the sword in its scabbard and knelt by Fury’s head. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was sweating. I pushed her hair off her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
She shook her head and started to cry. Then she started to cough violently until she rolled sideways, and I had to keep her from falling onto the stone floor.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“My eyes.”
I pulled a bottle of water out of my bag and unscrewed the cap. “Reuel, you do this. I need to back away.”
He took my place on the floor and poured the water slowly over Fury’s eyes. “Fury, you need to blink. Let the water wash it out.”
She screamed out when she tried. Then she started coughing again.
“It’s no use!” someone called from outside.
I looked out our cell door and saw an Angel of Knowledge through the cell door facing ours. He was locked behind his. “What do you know about it?” I asked.
“It’s osmium tetroxide poisoning. She’s drowning from the fluid in her capillaries leaking into her lungs.”
“How do we fix it?”
“At this stage? You don’t. By this point, it’s probably starting to destroy her kidneys as well. She’s a goner.”
“How long does she have?”
He shrugged. “A few hours maybe. Is that a helkrymite sword?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re Warren, Azrael’s son. You’re the new Archangel, aren’t you?”
“How do you know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who you are.”
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. I looked out and saw Etred returning with more fallen guardians. I hurried back into the cell. “He’s coming back. Is she strong enough to move?”
Reuel shook his head, but Fury reached up for me. “Help me,” she said between coughs.
I pulled her up to sitting. Balancing her elbows on her knees for support, she coughed until I feared she might pass out. Then she spat blood on the floor between her boots.
“Maybe you should stay here with Reuel.”
“My sister is close. She might even be in one of the cells. I have to find her.”
Etred entered the room. “All right, Archangel. Your audience has been granted.”
I bent and pulled Fury up. Then Reuel took her from me, and they followed me out of the room with Etred. I looked at the demon in the other cell as we passed. He waved. “Good luck.”
Etred and the other two guardians led us to a long open hall filled with fallen angels. It had large columns forming hallways down each side, and in the middle was an open floor, like the feasting hall of Zion.
Except here, instead of a banquet table in the center of the room, a platform with three more pillories faced an elevated throne.
This wasn’t a place of celebration. It was a courtroom. A sentencing hall. And on the judgment seat was a woman wearing blood stone…
Who looked a hell of a lot like Fury.