Page 58 of Light

She blinked back a single tear. Were there words to explain why she was leaving them? Why she had given herself so they and everyone else would be safe. She pressed her pen to the page.

Five and twenty, the price I paid. Recompense for pneuma, I wolde gladly pay again. AG.

She read over the words, wishing she could more eloquently put to paper what she felt, why she had done it, and what she could tell them to keep them safe from the dangers they wouldn’t know were there. Then, dipping her ink in the well once more, she pressed the tip of the pen to the page and added:

And if you should chance an encounter with your father, go easy on him.

She closed the journal, tears spilling down her cheeks. Had she been too hard on him? He fought for all souls. It was easy to forget that. To forget how important his task was. It was a further reminder of why she must unburden him of this one thing.

Chapter 38

Gabriel

Gabriel landed just inside the crumbling pillars of Pergamum and glanced to his left as Sariel landed beside him. He nodded, and Sariel nodded back.

It was one of only six places the Fallen could ascend to on Earth, thanks to the treaty he had agreed to all those years ago. Pergamum, once built as a temple to the pagan gods of ancient Greece, had been repurposed by a ruler named Trajan, a self-proclaimed god who traded his soul for power on Earth.

His deal, made before Samael was banned from setting foot on mortal soil, was made with the Fallen himself and created a loophole of sorts, allowing him to access the plane for short periods and only when encapsulated in a willing mortal body.

It was in just such a body he appeared now, lounging on a throne built on the backs of men several thousand years ago.

He stood, stretching out the ill-fitting human’s skin, and cracked his neck. “Brothers! Just the two I have been missing,” he said, strolling toward them.

Astaroth appeared on his left, and Paimon materialized on his right, swinging a vicious barbed tail behind her.

Samael rolled his human eyes. “Give me space, I beg you.” He gave Gabriel and Sariel a knowing look as if they could relate.

Gabriel widened his stance, tightening his grip around his spear.

Samael halted just before them, looking up at their massive forms. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hullo up there, can you hear me?”

Gabriel ground his teeth. Even before he had fallen, Samael wasn’t humorous, but he’d always fancied himself a comedian. He shrunk, reducing to the size of a man, and Sariel followed suit.

He had not spoken to Samael in some six thousand years. Somehow, he had not missed this.

“I come on behalf of—”

Samael waved a hand. “Yes, yes, your soul-bonded mate. Congratulations, brother. It is about time. I understand she dabbled with a bit of dark magic.”

Gabriel’s teeth sliced over his tongue, and he let the taste of his own blood calm his flaring anger. “She was coerced.”

“By one of mine?”

When Gabriel said nothing, Samael clapped his hands together. “By one of our siblings?” He chuckled. “Let me guess. Was it dear Raphi? No. No. Someone more meddlesome.” His eyes lit with dark amusement. “Dina.”

Gabriel’s brows dipped low on his forehead as a growl escaped his lips. “Enough games, Samael. I am willing to make a trade if you will undo the magic.”

Samael raised a dark human brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on.”

“I will trade you the Lance of Lazarus.”

At this, Sariel stepped forward. “He will not! I will not.”

Gabriel glanced to his left at his brother, who had pulled a long sword from its sheath and held it out.

Astaroth and Paimon dived for him, misting in and out of solid form as they dodged his blade. Sariel struck Paimon through the chest, and she screamed before disappearing. Only within this place between realms was it safe for their souls to do battle in such a way, allowing a seraph to strike before receiving a blow.

Astaroth circled, diving once more. Sariel lunged for him just as he evaporated, only to appear again behind Sariel.

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