Sacred Cups (Seven Archangels Book 2) Read online

“I’m afraid I do.” And then he was gone.

  Too much silt. Gabriel couldn’t have called him back.

  I’ll explain.

  It would be disgraceful. Ashamed. Couldn’t be forgiven. Just don’t keep bringing it up. You deserved it. Reverted to being a legalist. A betrayal of that magnitude can’t be undone. I’m always going to carry that with me. Why must you always stand on ceremony about everything?

  I’ll explain.

  I’m no longer your Seraph. I know how you do these things. You’ll adhere to every iota of a list and not one bit more. Jealous. You let me down.

  “Tobias, this is Gabriel. Please for the love of God don’t ask why he was in your house for six months. It’s better if everyone ignores it. I’m horrified that he dragged you into this.”

  “Gabriel?”

  I’ll explain.

  “Tobias, this is Gabriel. I’m ashamed of him, but he’s my bonded Cherub, so I just pretend it never happened, and once you get to know him, you’ll see why.”

  “Gabriel!”

  I’ll explain

  Gabriel startled aware. There was an Archangel right in front of him, hands on his shoulders, and seven more clustered around.

  Arrogant. Legalist. Deserved it.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Disgraceful. Shameful. Unforgivable.

  “Gabriel?”

  “I’m intact.” Gabriel realized he’d been off in his own head for several minutes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to concern you.”

  Another Archangel appeared, this one bringing Michael.

  “We roused him,” said the Archangel directly in front of Gabriel.

  Gabriel wrapped his trembling arms around one another. It was so cold. The silt had left him gritty. His eyes stung from the particles.

  “What did he say to you?” Michael demanded.

  I’ll explain.

  “He wanted me to visit Tobias with him.” Gabriel rubbed at the silt on his arm. “I sent him ahead. That’s all.”

  Michael sized him up. “Leave.”

  Gabriel’s eyes widened. “But I’m okay. I’ll get back to work.”

  Michael shook his head. “You’re cooked. Get out of here and recharge.”

  Gabriel gestured at the debris field with one hand.

  “There’s a lot left to be done, yes,” Michael said, “but if you leave for an hour, you’ll come back able to devise a solution that will shave weeks off the work. If you stay like this, you won’t do any good, and you won’t come up with a breakthrough anyhow. More likely, you’ll get hurt. Go. Rest. Pray. Do something else.”

  Gabriel felt numb. “The demons.”

  “Satan has every last soldier under his command assembled just outside our communications reach.” Michael’s voice lowered. “At some point, he’s going to launch an assault, and I’m going to need you then. Need you at the top of your game. You’re not now. You have to recharge.”

  Gabriel bit his lip.

  Michael said, “Would you disobey a direct order?”

  He swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s find out. I’m ordering you to leave.”

  Gabriel left.

  He went home to his library, but he was restless, so he flashed momentarily to Mary’s house, then back again to a lakeshore in Heaven, and finally he went before the Throne of Glory, to his spot in the ring of Seven.

  He went on his knees and set his sight on God’s face, and in the next moment he wanted to hide because God saw him; he was still covered in silt and his heart was leaking confusion. He bowed and stood to leave the ring when the Spirit stopped him.

  Gabriel settled back down, but he ran his fingers through his wingtips, getting them deep in the feathers to straighten himself out a bit. He asked permission to leave, and again the Spirit told him to stay.

  Self-conscious, Gabriel retreated into himself.

  I never minded a little dust, the Spirit replied.

  Gabriel shook his head.

  It is more than the dust, agreed the Spirit, and then Gabriel was clean, his wings and hair lighter. He folded his hands on his thighs. So let’s talk about something other than dust.

  Gabriel closed his eyes. God—

  Nothing. He couldn’t put it into words, the betrayal, the emotions he was struggling so hard to keep under control, the grief and the stunned un-grief, but he was still grieving after all, and the shock of the last three days, and the horrible things he’d seen and the worse things he’d heard, and the realization after all this time that something he’d thought would be enough couldn’t be enough after all.

  The Spirit prompted him, and Gabriel only prayed, Help.

  A hug. Gabriel pulled his wings tight and bowed his head, clutching his folded hands to his chest as he let the Spirit enwrap him. He didn’t know what else to do, and the Spirit stayed close and urged him just to remain, not to be afraid, to wait and to trust.

  What if trust was the thing that was shattered? Gabriel shuddered. What if wasn’t enough just to be near someone you loved even though he— even though he had reservations about you? What if you had been wrong all those years when you’d told yourself it was?

  Again the warmth from the Spirit, the urging to relax his heart and trust.

  Gabriel looked into the eyes of God: All those things Raphael had said—were they accurate? Was that really him? And God replied no; they were all things Gabriel was afraid were true, but they were no more real than that demon image.

  Gabriel let out a long breath. Only then could he still himself and allow God’s love to flow through him. It was enough that he and God were together, and that was all he needed.

  He felt God bringing him back to himself, and as his eyes cleared, the Spirit said, “Go now and visit Tobias.”

  Gabriel flashed back to Sheol.

  Immediately he extended his senses for Raphael, and he sighed when he could feel only traces of the Seraph’s fire but no Seraph. Next he took stock of the area. The angels had begun using his compression technique to form platforms for the human souls, even equipping them with their own gravity fields. Hundreds of platters hung in the void, people taking stock of where they were while angels mixed with them. There was a concert taking place on one, and Gabriel chuckled; the music was keeping the people calm.

  And oh, in the distance, from here he could feel that demonic presence wrapping around them like a ribbon. Angels harvesting a sea of space for the tiniest of sand grains while all around them swam sharks awaiting a blood frenzy. The people had to be sensing that too, only they didn’t understand. Living with evil all their lives, they didn’t recognize how wrong it was.

  Tobias. He’d been ordered to visit Tobias.

  Gabriel followed the traces of Raphael’s fire to one of the platforms, and it led to a family he recognized.

  The humans in the family were all adults, but some were experimenting with their soul-forms, becoming younger or older. Over time they would learn better control, but for now many remained at the age they had died. Some were surprised at how they had been made whole where at death, or for maybe their whole lives, they had been broken.

  Spotting Tobias, Gabriel glided to him, his heart racing. As he landed, Tobias looked up, and Gabriel bowed his head. He took a deep breath to steady himself, then went on his knees. “I want to say thank you, sir.”

  An old man the way he was when Gabriel lived with him, Tobias took a step forward. “It’s you!” He dropped beside him, wonder all over himself.

  “Gabriel!” Another human soul rushed him, and Gabriel turned in time to catch Raguel—Tobias’ grandson who had brought him to the family and whose room he’d shared. He laughed out loud, and then there was Gabelus, and Angela, and Raguel’s mother, and so many others from the family. Everyone was hugging him, and he closed his eyes as he remembered how good it felt to be with them, how it felt to be accepted.

  The initial flurry of greetings over, Gabriel stepped back to see them all. Raguel was also an old man; at
his side was his wife, and there were his children and grandchildren. Gabriel had followed the family for generations and knew all their names. He could have performed the introductions himself, but suddenly Raguel was telling him about everyone, and telling everyone about him, and he let Raguel do it because that was what had happened the first time, and it had worked so well then.

  Gabriel had been half-concerned they’d be stunned into awe on seeing him, but to them, all angels were similar in one respect: too big to comprehend. Their guardians had already assured them not to be afraid, and now they were doing it.

  During a pause in the talk, Tobias suddenly said, “Thank you for what?”

  Gabriel looked down. “For taking me into your household and demonstrating for me all the things I’d never learned to do. Compassion, acceptance, patience. Community. What it’s like to live in a family.” Gabriel’s cheeks burned. “Did Raphael talk to you?” He knotted his shaking hands. “Did he explain why I was there?”

  Tobias said, “I saw Raphael. He didn’t mention you.”

  Good.

  For the next two minutes Gabriel explained the past, the choices he’d made, the things he’d refused to learn until God put him into a position where he had to experience them. There was no condemnation in Tobias’s eyes, nor in Raguel’s, and when they asked questions, it was with no unspoken ridicule: why hadn’t he told them? Had they been good enough to him? Tobias thanked him for coming into his household and giving them the privilege of becoming his family, and Gabriel closed his eyes.

  One of the household guardians returned to the group looking distressed, and she apologized, but she asked for help. They still hadn’t found her charge, Rafaela.

  So Gabriel took Rafaela’s guardian out a distance from the debris field. It ought to be easy this time: it already had occurred to him that Mephistopheles’ and Belior’s trick for communicating with a soul should be useful in this mess, and especially with Sheol’s walls blown apart, it ought to be that much easier to track a guardian/protégé bond.

  “Hold still.” Gabriel concentrated to find that thread from the angel to the human. It ought to be there: Raphael had one to Jesus. But after five tries, Gabriel wondered if maybe there wasn’t. He asked a nearby angel to find Ophaniel and bring him.

  Until he arrived, Gabriel tried a different approach, standing behind Rafaela’s guardian attempting to fill her with rings of calm the way he would a Seraph. He couldn’t produce those either.

  I’m useless here, he prayed.

  Rafaela’s guardian, a little shaken, said, “We’ll find her eventually. There’s nowhere else she could be.”

  Ophaniel arrived. Gabriel said, “I need to find the thread between this angel and her charge.”

  “But we can’t pull it,” Ophaniel said.

  “She could.”

  Ophaniel frowned. “Why can’t you find it?” He touched Gabriel’s shoulder. “You’re far too tense. Take an hour and pray over this.”

  “She needs to find Rafaela, and I already took time to pray.” Gabriel swallowed. “Just find her thread for her.”

  Ophaniel said, “About an hour ago you said something to Raphael that shot right through him. I felt it clear across Sheol.”

  “I’m not trying to punish him.” Gabriel folded his arms. “I gave him an honest assessment of where things stood.”

  Ophaniel nodded. “I’m not defending his actions—but you understand why it happened.”

  He looked down. “This isn’t the time.”

  Rafaela’s guardian said, “Well, I’m on your side. And it’s okay. I’ll just keep looking on my own.”

  Ophaniel extended a wing to the guardian. “Gabriel’s going to find her for you.”

  “Don’t make promises for me that I can’t deliver.”

  “You’re going to deliver.” Ophaniel wrapped Gabriel in his wings while standing behind him. “Relax. You did this before with Satan at your back. Now it’s only us.”

  “Us and a quarter-trillion demons surrounding the field.”

  “Cozy.” Ophaniel took a deep breath. “Be clear and quiet.”

  Gabriel went still, and immediately words came to the surface of his heart; he went cold and forced them down.

  You need to ask God if these accusations are accurate.

  He says they’re not.

  From Ophaniel, a question about why he’d then let the words disturb him; from Gabriel, because Raphael believed them. From Ophaniel: why would Raphael try to make amends if he believed that? And Gabriel’s instant reply, from pity.

  Ophaniel sent, He never pitied you.

  Gabriel let his mind open out, searching for the thread. Again words came to the surface, and again he tried to fight them down.

  Behind him, Ophaniel flooded him with peace. If they try, let them come.

  But I can’t. You’re bonded to him too. What if I damage your relationship with him?

  You won’t, Ophaniel said. We have our own bond. You have yours. Let the words rise to the surface.

  And rise they did, but Gabriel closed his eyes and felt through Rafaela’s guardian for that bond stronger even than a Cherub/Seraph bond. With Ophaniel at his back and all around him, Gabriel finally detected the thread.

  Ophaniel whispered to the guardian, “Can you feel it now?”

  The guardian indicated she still couldn’t.

  Ophaniel squeezed Gabriel. “Have you tried casting rings?”

  “It didn’t work.”

  Ophaniel behind him went liquid and exuded rings of calm like steel. Gabriel shivered, but he held the thread, and a moment afterward Rafaela’s guardian gasped

  She zipped along the thread. Gabriel took off after her, keeping her shielded from flying debris as she crossed the field. By the time he caught up to her, she had in her hand a chunk the size of a grape.

  Ophaniel first Guarded and then pulverized it.

  The guardian shrieked with joy as Rafaela’s soul shook loose, and in the next moment two more burst free. Gabriel snatched them from the void, and momentarily two more ecstatic guardians appeared for their own reunions.

  Gabriel exchanged a glance with Ophaniel. “That piece was no more than a pebble.”

  Ophaniel beamed. “But this is terrific! Now we know how to find the stragglers, when we get down to the final few hundred.”

  Gabriel had Ophaniel bring his Archangel team back to him. “We’ve got a new technique,” he said, “and for this one, you can thank a couple of demons and the Witch of Endor.”

  Twenty-Two

  Hours passed. The demons remained assembled without advancing. Michael kept the Powers and the Principalities on military alert while teams of Cherubim worked on the problem of clearing the air. The Sheol material still gave off too much interference for the angels to communicate.

  Michael had Saraquael and Zadkiel running messages for him through the mess. “Right now,” he sent word to Gabriel, “we need to contain the debris, but not contain it at such a high density that we can’t work in it.”

  Gabriel sent back, “We also want to keep control of this material. If Satan gets ahold of this, he can build an impenetrable containment center.”

  That drew Michael to him in person. “Are you kidding me?”

  When had he last been kidding around? Gabriel formed a sigil, then formed a two hollow half-spheres out of the material. He inserted his sigil and sealed the sphere. “What’s in there? Can you feel it? I can’t.”

  Michael shivered. “We haven’t been keeping any kind of inventory of all this stuff. That never even occurred to me.”

  Gabriel cast a Guard in apparently empty space, then drew it tighter until it was the size of an apple seed, and then a tiny bit of Sheol material gleamed. “Given that you can filter out particulate matter at that size, I’d be stunned if Belior isn’t already experimenting with miniature eternal death-spheres.”

  Michael looked up, then sideways at their enemies. “Gabriel, that’s… What are we going to do?”

/>   Gabriel looked at the debris field, calculated the density of the pollution both inside and outside, the likely spread of the debris field. As his own dread built, he sent a messenger for Ophaniel. “You’ve got a new assignment,” he said. “I need you to calculate the initial volume of Sheol material in the undetonated cube.” He swallowed hard. “And at the same time, I need a second team calculating how much remains.”

  Ophaniel nodded, frowning. “Who do you think?”

  “Physicists,” Gabriel said. “Mathematicians. Grab a couple of Seraphim to keep your energy up, but no one who will distract you. And in the meantime—”

  “And in the meantime,” Michael whispered, “the enemy’s moving in.”

  #

  The first offensive force engaged with the Principalities in a series of guerilla strikes: in and out, in and out, never there long enough to subdue but just long enough to cause problems. By the time the Principalities got out a warning, the demons had managed to break through their guard, and in came the flood.

  “The humans!” Michael kept ordering. “Guard the humans! That’s what they’re after!”

  The guardian angels hadn’t left their charges, and now they herded them into more defensible locations. Michael deployed his forces into the worst areas, but once the demons had broken through, they scattered everywhere in the Sheol fields. They went for the humans they’d known best during their lifetimes, and some of them dove right into the debris field to find the few remaining trapped souls.

  And when they got them, the demons were flashing them out of the field. Probably into Hell itself. Michael grabbed Zadkiel and Saraquael. “I need you to go into Hell,” he said. “Find where they’re taking those souls, and bring them back out if you can.”

  They left, summoning the Dominions with them.

  The angels needed to get some kind of barricade up again, and it was the Cherubim who began shifting those floating platforms to create makeshift fortresses, spheres with the humans contained inside. When they’d begun doing that, it was the Virtues headed up by Remiel who streamlined that process to weaponize the blizzarding debris. By clustering the debris around the humans, they could prevent the in-and-out tactics. The angels still hadn’t come up with a tactic against the smash-and-grab.