Sacred Cups (Seven Archangels Book 2) Page 15

  Gabriel didn’t act as if he detected Raphael’s defenses. “God doesn’t change. But what they did—”

  Jesus nodded. “What they did was wrong. But I’m here for mankind, and what mankind has done was wrong too.”

  Gabriel settled to the side. “He wants nothing good for them. That alone should make you say no, don’t pray for him. Don’t bless him or his followers. Don’t do good for them.”

  Raphael kept tracking Mephistopheles, but the dark Cherub only stood beneath a tree, his curls wild but his whole body otherwise under strict control. The disciples’ guardians armored themselves, and several drew their swords, but Gabriel and Jesus didn’t seem to notice the demon beneath the tree.

  Jesus said, “Do you think the Father would take them back?”

  Gabriel sighed. “The Cherubim have speculated endlessly.”

  Jesus touched Gabriel’s chest. “But you? What do you think?”

  “I’ve argued both sides.”

  “You’re a Cherub.” Jesus smiled. “Of course you’ve argued both sides.”

  Raphael couldn’t help but laugh, and he noticed how Mephistopheles’ eyes glinted too.

  Jesus opened his hands. “But what’s your opinion? Right now, sitting here in front of me, if I told you there was a demon fallen to his knees before the Throne and begging for mercy, what do you think the Father would say?” Jesus snapped. “Quick.”

  “Yes,” Gabriel blurted, then hesitated. “But for a thousand years I thought no. And—” He tightened his fists. “I don’t know. We can’t know unless it happens; that’s the real answer. And why pray for something impossible?”

  Jesus murmured, “I would think you spent a year praying for the impossible.”

  “I didn’t.” Gabriel tightened up on himself. “I spent a few minutes praying for the impossible, and then I buckled down and did a different impossible thing.”

  Mephistopheles had leaned forward to catch what Gabriel said, only he hadn’t seemed to hear it.

  “Just so you know…” Raphael murmured.

  I do know, Jesus sent.

  Gabriel tucked up his knees. “Why did he tempt them in the garden?” He shook his head. “It wasn’t in question that they’re a lesser race. Confusing them and leading them to sin wasn’t any more difficult than it would be to train a dog to sit or get a vine to grow on the sunny side of the fence. Defiling them, what did it accomplish? Did he want to prove a point? Was it spite?”

  Jesus said, “Have you considered it was to prevent me from coming into their form as I suggested I would?”

  Gabriel looked up. “But—”

  “If he prevented that,” Jesus said, “the question of whether or not he’d worship a God in a lesser form was immaterial because it wouldn’t happen. So he seduced them in the garden to ensure the Father would destroy them. If they never had children, I couldn’t become one of them, so he asked them to choose death. Only the Father didn’t bring death at once, and I’m here anyhow in an even further reduced form to fulfill and redeem them, and eventually to glorify them.”

  Gabriel looked up, puzzled. “He thought he could prevent it?”

  “It was a way for him to win. He could return without capitulating.”

  Gabriel seemed even more puzzled. “He wanted to return?”

  “He wanted to win.” Jesus shook his head. “But when one wins, both lose.”

  Mephistopheles looked openly shocked.

  Gabriel’s voice ticked up. “I don’t want to pray for him to win.”

  “Nor should you.”

  “I want the Father to win.” His voice wavered. “Would the Father winning mean both sides lost as well?”

  Jesus said, “Here’s another question: would his repentance mean nothing had been won so much as set straight?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “If we start playing with definitions, you’ll never get any sleep, and Raphael will drive his sword through my heart.”

  A momentary frisson flitted across Mephistopheles’ features. “I wouldn’t do that,” Raphael said, “but I intend to talk to you about what a human body needs.”

  Gabriel frowned. “There’s no other way I’d know about that, is there?”

  “You’ve given enough lectures.” Raphael folded his arms. “You’re due one.”

  Jesus ran a hand over one of Gabriel’s feathers. “Why don’t you think about it, and we can talk more another time?”

  Gabriel said, “I wanted to know what I should pray for.”

  Jesus kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve got a good heart, Gabri’li.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I didn’t intend to answer your question.” He lay back down on his blanket. “Good night.”

  Raphael imposed sleep on Jesus (although it wasn’t hard – the man was exhausted.) He kept his eyes on Mephistopheles the whole time, but he sent irritation through the bond to Gabriel.

  Gabriel sent back confusion: Jesus didn’t mind, so why was Raphael upset?

  Raphael’s heart burned as he projected back to Gabriel. A guardian was supposed to protect his charge, to make sure no unnecessary problems or pain happened, to keep him shielded and make sure his needs were met. And then to just have Gabriel slip in and wake up Jesus when he knew Jesus needed to sleep, that was arrogant. It was counter to Raphael’s duty, and Gabriel assumed it was allowed because they were bonded, or because he was above the regulations everyone else had to follow, or because he was—

  Gabriel sent him a prompt: Or because he was jealous?

  Raphael’s heart vibrated.

  Gabriel sent reassurance. He was not jealous. He didn’t think a nighttime conversation would hurt Jesus, and in the future he would ask Raphael for permission. Would that suffice?

  A moment later, Gabriel added that he was sorry he’d upset Raphael.

  Raphael sparkled with irritation. Not sorry that he’d done it?

  Gabriel’s soul retreated from Raphael’s, leaving behind only emptiness.

  Beneath the trees, Mephistopheles watched again with folded arms, and this time Gabriel caught sight of the demon. How long had he been there?

  Mephistopheles laughed and vanished.

  Raphael let out a long breath. The steel in Gabriel’s eyes drew Raphael’s attention to the other guardians nearby. They’d all turned their focus from watching the demon to watching the pair of them.

  Raphael sat beside Jesus to make sure he was fully asleep. It wasn’t fair, he sent to Gabriel, that Gabriel thought he could take advantage of Raphael for access to Jesus’s store of information. Not if he was doing it for himself to satisfy his curiosity, or because he’d finally found a debate partner who could run him in circles.

  A thrill shot through Gabriel at the last.

  You see?, Raphael thought. And had Gabriel really intended to present himself before God and ask for good things to be heaped upon Satan? And blessings for the army of fallen angels who wanted nothing more than to spit in God’s face again? Or had he only wanted to clarify a point of law before going to start an argument with Ophaniel about the nature of antiprotons?

  Gabriel stood. “The first thing. At least, in an extremely modified and limited form. We’ll see what happens from there.” And with that, he left them.

  Raphael glanced beneath the trees, but Mephistopheles had not returned, and in the next few minutes the disciples’ guardians resumed speaking to one another with an awed hush.

  Fourteen

  Year Thirty-Two

  “Ask him,” Gabriel said again.

  “You ask. I’m a bit busy right now.” Raphael kept scanning the streets as they moved through Jerusalem, his heart prickling with the presence of so many souls in such a close space. Every day it seemed the danger levels grew higher, and therefore the guardianship had become rather intense even for a Seraph who craved excitement.

  Despite that, Gabriel spent his days asking questions (and probably spent his nights coming up with new ones) when Raphael sometimes wo
uld have rather had another set of eyes watching the people.

  “He’s about as safe as he gets here.” Gabriel glanced around. “The people closest to him are the twelve, and they’re not going to hurt him.”

  Raphael’s feathers spread. “I’m doing my job, and I’m not writing off anything as a danger.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “I just don’t understand why he got upset at people for doing exactly what he said to do.”

  The disciples’ guardians were watching the exchange, and Nivalis said, “Gabriel, ask him.”

  Gabriel pushed a question into Jesus’s mind, and Jesus looked up. Go ahead.

  Gabriel said, “The ten lepers you healed — why did you get upset at nine of them for not coming back to you right away?”

  Jesus knit his brows. Only one of the ten gave thanks to God for his healing.

  “That’s not how I’m reading the situation,” Gabriel said. “I’m reading it that nine of the ten did exactly what you told them to do, and you were irritated at them for following orders.”

  Jesus shook his head. I guess that’s one reading of the situation.

  Gabriel said, “What am I missing?”

  Before Raphael could say Gabriel was missing one of the most basic points of social interaction, a crowd accosted Jesus with shouts. Gabriel raised his wings as several men thrust a barely-clad woman through him, toward Jesus.

  The disciples backed away from the woman like water ringlets retreating from a flung stone. Jesus alone stood with the woman before him.

  A Pharisee grasped her by the arm. “This woman was caught in the very act of adultery.”

  The woman’s guardian angel went down on his knees before Jesus, then crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head.

  Another man said, “Moses ordered us to stone women of this kind. What do you think we should do?”

  Jesus looked at the woman, who was trying in vain to straighten her clothing.

  Gabriel brushed a wingtip by Raphael. “Am I to believe this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery by herself?’

  Jesus glanced up at Gabriel and sent, You asked me a question, so now it’s my turn. What is the integral of sine x2 from negative four to zero?

  Gabriel hesitated.

  This occurred to me last night, but you weren’t around to ask. Jesus bent and set up a grid, then drew a sine curve and started writing out a formula.

  Raphael stared at Jesus in confusion, because the Pharisees were asking more questions of Jesus, but Jesus finished writing the formula. He looked up at the Pharisee as if distracted. “It only seems fair that the man who hasn’t ever sinned should throw the first stone.” Then he looked back at the drawing and sent to Gabriel, How would you solve this?

  “You wouldn’t solve that,” Gabriel said, “at least not that way, because it doesn’t make sense.” He leaned over Jesus, gesturing with his hands and rewriting the formula, “This is really the way I’d set it up because that makes it easier to—”

  “You know,” Raphael said tentatively, “this might not be the best time.”

  You’re right, Jesus sent, and he rewrote the problem. But you’ve limited the range of the integral, and I wanted the range to extend to negative two pi.

  “It ceases making sense once you carry it beyond negative pi,” Gabriel said.

  Jesus changed the range of the integral anyhow. Now what?

  “Now it stops making sense,” Gabriel said, and he changed the graph of the problem to reflect the different range.

  “You both stopped making sense a long time ago,” Raphael muttered.

  Let me do this, Jesus sent.

  Raphael looked up as one of the Pharisees got directly before Jesus, where he was writing, saying, “Should we stone the woman or not?” and Jesus did nothing other than move to the side and keep working. Gabriel had begun talking quickly, his wings raised, his eyes bright. Raphael soon lost track of the mathematics, although he could feel the problem taking shape from both sides, one half of him through his bond to Jesus and the other through his bond to Gabriel. Jesus redrew the problem and they started over again, and Raphael disengaged himself enough to look around and find no one in front of them but the woman.

  The disciples’ guardian angels had large eyes, and a couple of them were laughing.

  Gabriel said, “And that’s why the range has to be from pi to negative pi.”

  I see now, Jesus said. Hold on a minute. He stood up and looked at the woman. “Woman, where are they?”

  Gabriel looked up, his eyes startled as he focused.

  The woman shook her head.

  Raphael dropped a set of his wings into a cloak around his shoulders, and he passed it to Jesus, who handed the heavy, warm fabric to the woman. “Has no one condemned you?”

  The woman swallowed as she pulled the cloak around her shoulders. “No one, sir.”

  Jesus said, “Then neither do I condemn you.”

  The woman regarded him in confusion.

  “Go,” he said, “and sin no more.”

  The woman ducked her head as she walked away.

  Jesus turned to the woman’s guardian. “Escort her to make sure she stays safe,” then turned the angel solid and wingless. The angel bowed and hurried after the woman.

  He turned to Gabriel. Why should the situation with the lepers bother you so much?

  Gabriel said, “Because what the nine did is what I would do: exactly what you told me to do. I wouldn’t risk losing the healing if I disobeyed, like Lot’s wife turning back to look at Sodom burning. I’d have gone straight to the priests, presented myself the way you said, and then gone to look for you.”

  Jesus nodded. And doesn’t that sound an awful lot like fear? Using rituals to protect yourself from God?

  Raphael stiffened. Gabriel’s gaze dropped. “It’s about doing things the right way.”

  Jesus replied, It’s about having an honest relationship without protecting yourself from the people you love. Over time, how can you relate to someone if it’s just a matter of doing only what’s required? And then he added, glancing at Raphael, Remember, Gabriel, what hurts one hurts two.

  Fifteen

  Year Thirty-Three

  “You realize they’re going to kill us,” Thomas muttered as they approached Jerusalem.

  Raphael turned to him, projecting reassurance. Thomas had been nervous for days, even in the crowd of travelers heading toward Jerusalem.

  Nivalis breathed over Judas, who said, “Well, they can try, but he’s the Messiah.” He shifted his bag. “They’ve tried before to stone him, remember? He just slips away.”

  Thomas only shook his head.

  Jesus stopped beneath a tree while most travelers just continued on. “Andrew? Philip? I want you to go ahead into the village. You’re going to find a donkey there, tied to a tree. Untie it and bring it to me. When they ask you what you’re doing, just say the Lord has need of him.”

  In the shade, they waited watching the road. Nivalis approached Raphael. “Judas has heard people talking about arresting Jesus.”

  At Raphael’s side, Gabriel said, “Michael’s keeping tabs on everything. And so far, the Romans are staying out of it.”

  A traveler stopped before them on the road, but the humans couldn’t see him. He had twelve wings and cold eyes. “Nice day for a pilgrimage,” Satan said. “One of you has to send a message for me.”

  Raphael bristled, but Gabriel closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they were duskier. Speaking in a tenor/soprano mix, he said, “Your message?”

  “Gabriel, tell your owner I deserve to test that one again. If that monkey’s really their Messiah, he’s got to do something about ushering in a Messianic age, and I don’t think he qualifies.”

  Gabriel said, “Note that you’ve been testing him all along through your human servants.”

  Satan said, “Direct testing. I want authority over the situation.”

  Raphael’s wings flared, but Gabriel said, “You may hav
e your authority.”

  Satan said, “Unimpeded by any interference this time. That means no angels and no vast transfusions of grace.”

  Gabriel said, “Granted.”

  Raphael’s eyes widened. “But—”

  Satan said, “And free access to his pet monkeys, too.”

  “You have freedom to tempt the disciples.”

  “No!” Raphael’s eyes threw sparks. “Why?”

  Gabriel concluded, “You have one week.”

  Satan folded his arms. “I demand a month.”

  Gabriel said, “One week.”

  Satan sighed, then snapped his fingers. “Okay, Gabriel, you can put your leash back on. I’m done talking to your owner.”

  Raphael’s wings burned, but Satan didn’t so much as look in his direction. Instead he studied Jesus, studied the disciples. “Only a week. That still gives me the Passover. So much fun to be had with their little holiday.” He turned to Raphael. “Try not to take it too hard. He’s only human.”

  Gabriel still hadn’t returned to himself. Satan said, “By the way, your owner is slipping. He didn’t forbid me to hurt the monkey’s body or take his life. Maybe he’s too worried about his Son to think clearly.”

  Raphael tensed. “Oh, don’t worry,” Satan said, shooing him as if he were nothing more than a mosquito. “I have no intention of killing him. But usually I get that tired old stipulation, Only make sure not to touch his life, when in reality I had no such designs anyhow because they’re so much more fun when they’re alive.”

  Satan vanished, but that slick feeling of evil hung over the gathering.

  Gabriel turned to Raphael, his eyes still a dusky mix, and in God’s voice, he said, “Joy comes in the morning.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Raphael’s voice pitched up. “I need to protect him!”

  But Gabriel had come back to himself now, and he gave his head a little shake. Then he looked deflated. “Another trial?”

  “Is this what you prayed up for us?” Raphael got right in front of Gabriel and lowered his voice. “Is this the good thing you prayed would happen to our enemy? Like some kind of gift Jesus could pay for?”

  Gabriel backed up a step, shocked.