The Wrong Enemy Read online

  Rachmiel reappeared, and the first thing he said was to Miriael: “You said I’d know if he woke up.”

  Miriael said, “I said a smart demon could outwit that kind of device, and a smart demon faced him down.”

  Tabris shuddered as Rachmiel’s awareness filled the room, and the orange-winged angel summoned a dozen tiny spheres to his hand, scattered in different places. “Terrific.”

  Miriael said to Tabris, “Whatever attacked you—ask for help next time. You shouldn’t fight that alone.”

  Tabris said, “I drove him off.”

  “You have allies.” Miriael cocked his head. “You’re hogging the action to yourself. Not nice.”

  Tabris laughed, but softly.

  “Crisis over,” Mithra said, and the angels dispersed. Miriael waited a moment, then looked Tabris right in the eyes, a penetrating glare that made Tabris catch his breath. Miriael murmured, “Don’t play with them. Throw them out. You can call me.” And then he returned to Kyle.

  Tabris found himself alone in the room with Rachmiel, who checked over Elizabeth and projected satisfaction that she was unhurt. He turned back to Tabris, shedding concern as he studied him.

  Tabris recoiled, and Rachmiel got himself back under control. “Are you feeling better?”

  Tabris stared at the floor. “I’m sorry I let her hit the ground.”

  “You said that before, and it’s all right. I’m sorry I over-reacted. She’ll be a bit stiff in the morning, but that will be the last of the matter.” Rachmiel started projecting something else, but cut himself off.

  Tabris walked to the window. “Where were you?”

  Rachmiel hesitated. “I was with Sebastian.” And then, “He asked for me to come. Miriael said I could set things up so if you woke up, I’d know and could come right back. I didn’t—”

  “That’s not a problem.” Tabris turned back. “You didn’t tell me about him.”

  A burst of surprise escaped Rachmiel.

  “Or were you hoping I wouldn’t ask?”

  Rachmiel projected hurt, but also irritation. “What did you want to know?”

  Well, there was the rub. The only way to prove Rachmiel was willing to talk was to hear things he didn’t want to hear. Even then, Tabris wasn’t going to sift through the details to spot the tiny gaps where half-truths tried to take up the space of a full. “What do you think of him?”

  Rachmiel’s grin hit Tabris harder than a punch to the gut, and his eyes shone like a sunrise. “He’s so smart! He’s funny, but with a self-deprecating sense of humor. He’s determined. And in so many ways, he’s exactly like you!”

  Tabris’s heart pounded. “Which ways?”

  “Do you want a list?” Rachmiel laughed out loud. “He feels like you, he thinks like you, he reacts like you. He even looks like you!” When Tabris recoiled, Rachmiel nodded. “His eyes. They’re exactly like yours. And his face is similar too. He laughs the way you do. It’s startling sometimes.”

  Tabris walked to the window and looked out at the grass. “What about his hands?”

  If Rachmiel had been eager to talk before, he was confused now in equal measure. “Small?”

  Tabris flashed in front of Elizabeth’s mirror, then concentrated so he reflected.

  “Tabris!” Rachmiel flashed between him and Elizabeth. “What are you doing?”

  “She’s sleeping.” He was visible now in both the human and angelic planes of existence. “What’s she going to see? Even if she did, she’d think it was a dream.”

  Unreassured, Rachmiel placed his hands over her eyes. Tabris ignored his stare while scrutinizing himself in the mirror. His eyes. His face. Dark eyes. Small hands.

  He tried to smile, and it was perfect symmetry. Sebastian smiled like him. Lovely.

  Rachmiel said, “What’s going on?”

  Tabris gave a laugh sharper than a switchblade. “Our souls are alike. Of course he’d be just like me after he died.” He turned to Rachmiel. “He hates me.”

  That should have come out dark, or broken, or flat. Or sardonic. Instead the words were just...words. He hates me. There’s one person I loved more than anything else, and because of what I did, he hates me.

  Rachmiel whispered, “He’s never said that.”

  “He doesn’t need to say it. God wanted me to meet the boy so he could forgive me, right?”

  Rachmiel opened his hands. Translate that as, I don’t know the mind of God. Secondarily translate that as, I’d rather not admit it.

  Tabris looked again into the mirror. “It’s better for him if I don’t go. I think that’s obvious.”

  Rachmiel swallowed hard.

  Tabris made himself invisible again, vanishing from the mirror, and saw how Rachmiel’s eyes had picked up a pink tint. “Please keep visiting since he wants you there. But I’m not going to ask anything more, and please don’t tell me about him.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want to know the things he says, and you shouldn’t be forced to lie to me. So just—don’t talk about it.”

  Rachmiel’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t lie.”

  Tabris stilled, and he looked across the room. How to respond to that? With it right out in the open, and Rachmiel saying one thing and reality saying another.

  Rachmiel said, “Why would I lie? It would offend God, and we’re on the same side.”

  “We’re on Elizabeth’s side.” Tabris’s voice was thin. “You’d do anything for her.”

  Seventeen

  Five nights later, right after Kyle went to bed, Miriael tagged Tabris for a midnight death-match down in Antarctica. “I’m afraid to tell you,” said Miriael with solemnity, “that a demon is impersonating me there, and you’ll need to fight him.”

  Tabris grinned. “I’d heard the opposite, that it looks like me. We’d better head down and check it out.”

  Four hours later, they’d been fighting on the ice so long that each had been wounded several times, but never conclusive enough to declare a victory. They’d gone for close fighting this time, and Miriael had called a knife to his free hand.

  As they grappled, Tabris wrenched the knife free. He slashed at Miriael’s throat—and missed.

  Miriael flared with disgust, and he hurled Tabris to the ground, then flung his sword into the snow. “Are you playing to win? Or not?”

  “I am.” Tabris sat up, gasping a white cloud. “I was, I mean. I thought I was.” He curled forward, leaning his arms on his knees and letting his breath heave. “I’m sorry.”

  Miriael sat facing Tabris. They were both throwing off heat, and Tabris noticed Miriael deflecting it upward to keep the ice unharmed.

  Miriael glared, waiting for an answer.

  Tabris looked down. “I hesitated.”

  “Because you broke Sebastian’s neck?”

  So casual, the same way you’d say “Because you’re attending the morning liturgy?” Tabris looked up with half a smile. “You’re direct.”

  Miriael kicked some snow through Tabris. “You’re trying to kill me. The least I can do is not stand on ceremony.” His brow furrowed. “You’re not offended by that, are you?”

  Tabris rested his chin on his wrists. “Everyone knows everything anyhow. It’s more than a little weird when they don’t talk about it.”

  Miriael frowned, surprising Tabris with the strength of his negation.

  Raising his wings, Tabris picked up his head. “What about me don’t you know?”

  “Just about everything,” said Miriael.

  Tabris shook his head. “You should be thankful for that.”

  “I’ll be the first in line if they ask for people who don’t understand you.” Miriael chuckled. “Until Rachmiel pushes me out of the way, that is.”

  Tabris huffed. “Rachmiel’s been a lot less curious lately.” That kind of thing happened when you had all the answers you needed.

  Miriael’s eyes flashed.

  “Or he’s gotten more controlled,” Tabris admitted. It sounded more
charitable that way. “The effect is the same.”

  “Do you want to go back?”

  Tabris shook his head. “I’d rather wait until they wake up. It’s cold here, and I love the open spaces.”

  Casifer appeared in Elizabeth’s bedroom where Rachmiel was praying. “Sebastian wanted to see Elizabeth, and I came ahead to make sure it would be all right.”

  Except that they would have been married, Rachmiel thought this would be a great idea. “I don’t—” But with his mind still half in a prayer-state, he felt God assuring him it would be fine. “Sure, bring him.”

  Casifer returned in a minute with Sebastian. The boy looked around, grinning. “I haven’t been back to Earth at all before now! This is so awesome.”

  “I’m sorry your first visit has to be a mess.” Rachmiel nudged a discarded t-shirt with his toe. “I’d have inspired her to clean if I’d known.”

  Sebastian shrugged, then walked to Elizabeth’s bed. “Cool.” He looked closer. “You said last time that angels can’t dream. Can you tell what she’s dreaming?”

  “Come here.” Rachmiel rested his hands over Sebastian’s eyes and concentrated, showing him Elizabeth’s soul as he saw it: a pastel swirl of grace and mercy, of compassion and love, understanding and faith. Innocence.

  Sebastian whistled. “Are all our souls like that to you?”

  “Everyone is different,” Casifer said. “Your soul has sharper colors and more contrast, but yes, without sin you’re all that beautiful.”

  Voriah entered the room and did a double-take. A moment later, the rest of the household clustered nearby.

  “Sebastian?” said Josai’el. “This is a surprise.”

  “Um—hello.” The boy backed into Casifer. “Rachmiel talked about Elizabeth enough that I thought I might come see her.”

  Voriah gave him the spiritual equivalent of a handshake, which Sebastian struggled to return. “Glad to meet you. Rock, he looks just like Tabris!”

  Sebastian’s eyes flew open. “Tabris?”

  Casifer said, “Your guardian.”

  “Tabris. I like the sound.” Sebastian seemed as if he were tasting the name, and he studied each angel in turn. “There have got to be like a hundred angels here! Do you all live in this one house?”

  Rachmiel said, “Elizabeth has three brothers—” and then noticed Voriah had flashed from the room. “Plus her parents and her grandmother. Even so, a visitor is the only entertainment at night, so everyone’s going to come see.”

  Sebastian saluted. “Thanks a lot, folks—you’ve been a wonderful audience.” He laughed. “I’m not even going to start asking who everyone is. Maybe you guys should get name stickers.” He hesitated. “And...Tabris...isn’t here?”

  Ah—had there been an ulterior motive? “He and one of the other guardians are out tonight.” Rachmiel watched Sebastian’s face, but the boy didn’t look disappointed. Nor did he appear relieved. “Have you visited your parents?”

  Casifer said, “I opted to visit you first because you’re three time zones ahead of them. They might not be asleep.”

  Rachmiel said to Sebastian, “He was supposed to say he was honoring us with your presence because we were so important.”

  Sebastian laughed out loud. “Yeah, of course!” He looked at Casifer. “Can we go see them?”

  “In a while. You can stay out all night, so there’s no rush.” He shrugged. “Let’s visit a few other places first.”

  Sebastian took Rachmiel’s hand. “You come with us. And your friend, too. The one who told me my guardian’s name.”

  Rachmiel didn’t bother saying that after a slip like that, Voriah wasn’t likely to let any other sensitive information slide. Instead, he projected agreement and told Casifer to go ahead.

  In Alan’s room, he found Voriah in urgent prayer tinged with apology. Josai’el joined them. Voriah turned to him, wings flared. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess that up.”

  “He’d have learned his name at some point.” Rachmiel sighed. “They want us to go on a mini world tour.”

  “Call back Miriael and Tabris.” Voriah put a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “Four on seven isn’t good defense.”

  Josai’el said, “I’ll ask for outside help. I’d rather not have Sebastian stop back here and find Tabris, and Sebastian’s energy is going to be all over that room for a little while.”

  Voriah and Rachmiel flashed away after Casifer, landing on the crown of the Statue of Liberty.

  “You’re joking!” Voriah turned to the boy. “All the world to visit, and you chose New York?”

  “I’ve never been here.” Sebastian looked at the skyline. “Where would you suggest?”

  “Australia. It’s as far from New York as you can get without having to float.”

  “We could go underwater, though!” Sebastian’s eyes brightened. “Let’s go under the ice floes in Antarctica!”

  Rachmiel said, “No.”

  Casifer looked at Rachmiel, and he caught Rachmiel’s meaning. “Yeah, not there.”

  Voriah said, “We could try the arctic circle, though. It’s just as cold.”

  Sebastian hesitated. “Would it be too cold? I don’t want to go back to Limbo as a Kidsicle, and I’d like to see some fish.”

  Casifer said, “Oh, that’s easy—” and the next moment they were off Ms. Liberty’s shoulder and at a coral reef in the Pacific.

  Sebastian panicked and clutched at Casifer, who wrapped him in his wings and projected that he was safe; he didn’t need to breathe, but he could, and it wouldn’t harm him.

  Sebastian white-knuckled his hands into Casifer’s feathers. Rachmiel projected that they could leave, but Sebastian shook his head. Rachmiel saw in him right then all of Tabris, fighting to ride out the panic to the good things he knew should be there, struggling to trust the ones around him when every instinct told him not to.

  Sebastian forced himself to gasp, and then again. When he realized he wouldn’t choke, he erupted with joy.

  They checked out the fish, even some species that human scientists had never cataloged. The watery life swam near the three angels and premature saint, seeking God in the dark waters but failing to find Him. The lightless currents flowed around the foursome, and they expanded their other senses to compensate for blindness. Rachmiel noted how Sebastian learned to navigate with an instinctual understanding of where everything was located around him.

  When Sebastian wanted to leave—it was at least an hour—they flashed to a cliff in Washington State overlooking the Pacific. The horizon offset them as they glowed at the edge of a drop that plummeted to a rocky beach. The waves regularly sounded below while overhead the stars glimmered.

  Voriah said, “I bet Elizabeth’s dreaming of fish.”

  Rachmiel chuckled. “Swordfish.” He craned back his neck and admired the clear sky, the Sitka spruces towering like the slats of a picket fence.

  Sebastian whispered, “What an amazing world. I left it too soon. There were so many places I could have gone and I never did. I’d have climbed mountains and gone deep-sea diving for real.”

  Voriah said, “You can do that when we have the New Earth.”

  Sebastian pulled up a grass blade. “I don’t think it will be the same.”

  Voriah said, “It might be better.”

  Sebastian flicked the grass to the ground. “I should have found out for myself. Sorry. I’ll shut up now. I know you’re on his side.”

  Voriah burst out laughing, and Rachmiel huffed. “Sebastian, I promise you this: no one thinks what Tabris did was right.”

  Sebastian’s head picked up. “But—”

  Voriah said, “Don’t believe Tabris thinks he was right either. I’d be surprised if he’s stopped regretting it for even a heartbeat since it happened.”

  Sebastian sought out Casifer’s eyes. “Then why’d he do it?”

  Rachmiel said, “I have no idea. But he’d un-do it if he could.”

  Frowning, Sebastian said, “Then why won�
��t he visit?” His voice broke. “I figured he hated me all along, and that you let him stay with Elizabeth because he liked her, because she was cute and sweet, so she was safe, and I wanted to see—”

  Rachmiel grabbed the boy in a hug. “No!” An ulterior motive? This had been Sebastian’s motive. He’d wanted to see the kid who was good enough that Tabris loved her. “Don’t think for a minute he loves her more than you.”

  “Then what did I do?” Sebastian blurted out, and Rachmiel wasn’t prepared for his tears. “What did I do that deserved him killing me? Casifer won’t tell me—”

  Rachmiel said, “You didn’t do anything!”

  “—and God’s charitable and won’t hold it against you once you’ve been forgiven, so He won’t tell me, but I must have done something so awful—”

  Rachmiel looked at Casifer, helpless.

  Sebastian pushed his face into Rachmiel’s shoulder. “Whatever I did—just tell me. I’ll deal with it. Just tell me.”

  Casifer moved right next to them. “I’m not holding anything back.”

  Sebastian kept his fingers in Rachmiel’s wings, his face down.

  Rachmiel held him, his heart vibrating with the boy’s grief but feeling shock from both Voriah and Casifer. In the swirl of feeling, he realized Casifer hadn’t known Sebastian was thinking this at all, that the boy had hidden the doubts, and maybe the first question he’d planned to ask Tabris was, “What did I do?”

  Rachmiel said nothing as Sebastian’s soul fit against his with an ease that broke his heart: Elizabeth’s husband. They were so compatible.

  Finally Sebastian said, “If only I’d been a better charge, he wouldn’t have done that.”

  Rachmiel said, “You were a wonderful charge. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Sebastian clutched him tighter. “That can’t be true.”

  Rachmiel said, “Absolutely true. I promise.”

  Pulling back, Sebastian frowned. “Then what’s his deal? He should be here.” He clenched his fists. “Although you know what? I’m kind of glad he kept his distance because even if it’s my fault, I’m still pissed off at him. Casifer said I need to forgive him, but you know...”