Page 8 of Crimson Promises
“Libertati vel mortis.” My wings flared out at the declaration.
“Let’s get this arrow out of your leg.”
“It’s gold, Jos. You can’t exactly saw it off with a knife.”
“Who said anything about a knife?” From a pocket in his inner battle suit, he pulled out amagicum. The Originals bestowed a relic to Jos’s Gifted family to help hone magic to execute their gifts. A two-inch gold cylinder with a ruby on the end. Heaven liked its gold. He smirked.
“Well, look at you. I bet your dad had a shit fit when he realized it was gone.”
He shrugged. “He has enough collectibles, didn’t even know it was missing.” Jos held themagicumbetween his pointer and thumb like a pen. “Even though it’s magic, this is still going to hurt. On the count of three. Brace yourself.” He began whispering in soft tones. Spells I never had the privilege of learning. The basics, yes, but anything advanced, like so many other things, were reserved for those entitled to that knowledge.
I clenched my jaw.
“Okay, one.” Before I could register anything, pain tore through my thigh on both ends.
“Argh,” I grunted. “You didn’t even make it to three.”
“Is someone being a suck?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Blood oozed on either side of my thigh. I used both of my hands to apply pressure to halt the bleeding.
“That’s what I thought.” Jos grinned. “You’re lucky I had this saved.” He twirled themagicumbetween his fingers. “I said a spell to sever the arrow in two, allowing me to pull it out much easier. Otherwise, you’d be in a heck of a lot more pain.” He swayed as he stood up.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, that just took more energy from me than I anticipated.”
“Jos, you shouldn’t have done that. I would have been fine.”
He raised his eyebrows in response.
“Maybe not fine, but alive still.” It was laughter or tears at this point.
Amusement flickered in his eyes, and he shook his head. Back to business, then. “I’m fine. It’s your bruised and battered ass I’m worried about.”
I cleared my throat. “I say we stick to your original plan and continue heading east. We’ve been fortunate not to run into any trouble thus far. Let’s see how far we can get before we have to reassess.”
“Alright.” Jos tried to bend down to get me on his back but winced. Instead, he held his right arm out. “Here, put your weight on me.” His gaze bore into mine until I relented.
Jos carried my weight for I don’t know how long. One step at a time as the sun dipped further west. Echoes of the day’s earlier battle rang in my ears. Wails and screams. Wings shredding. Bones cracking.
Out of nowhere, a large, winged shadow loomed over us. I glanced at Jos from the corner of my eye. He tilted his head forward ever so slightly, already on the same page. Jos dropped his arm around me. I planted my feet on the ground. My right knee bent to accommodate my injury.
The white of the angel’s wings was so iridescent I had to shield my eyes. It was like looking directly into the blinding sun.
Azrael’s scroll poked out from his quiver, and a black caliph with a jagged edge was clasped in his hand. His face looked as though it was made of stone: sharp cheekbones, straight nose, deep eyebrows. A wreath of bones sat atop his head.Angel of Death, indeed.
His beating wings slowed as he neared the ground, sending dirt and sand flying up. Azrael’s lips frowned. He pulled the scroll from his quiver, scanning it until he arrived at what he was looking for.
“Bennett Caelum, Joshua Fidus. Did you both think that you could escape punishment from The Divine? Your choices have consequences. It is my duty to ensure that those wishes are carried out,” he said. “According to the laws of Heaven, you both have been charged with treason for joining the former archangel, the Morningstar’s cause, which is punishable by death. You both must come with me to face your judgment.”
“All alone, Azrael?” I sneered.
“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Ordinary?” He taunted, “One would think two pigs headed for the slaughter would be more repentant.”
“Clearly, you don’t know me very well.”
Jos remained quiet.
