Covenant Page 25

  Images filtered as quickly as lightning though her mind. One second she was a baby reaching for a toy. Now she was a child, locked in a closet while her brother slipped her food beneath the door. There were Christmas carols, but as always, no presents for Angela. Her mother shrieked at her, called her a filthy blood head, and hit her. Her father didn’t make a move to stop it. Time abruptly shifted. Angela was once again painting Israfel’s image, with hot tears rolling down her face. Then it was time to sit silently in the institution, staring at white walls in her equally white uniform. Fire erupted in a blazing inferno around her. Scars flared to life on her arms and legs. Her parents died in the flames. Her brother, Brendan, died after crawling pathetically to Israfel’s feet.

  The sight of it all tore at every fiber of her heart and soul. She begged in her mind for it to stop, please stop.

  Where are you, my love?

  The voices continued mercilessly. Angela cried out as she found herself dancing with Israfel again, as she recognized the pain behind his eyes. He was calling for her. But suddenly she was in Kim’s arms, trying to forget her own agonies. Angela’s soul twisted and writhed and she tried again to break free of the nightmares being forced on her, but the Watchers pried into her mind with all the greater aggressivness.

  You were taken from me . . . now I must take you back . . .

  Now Sophia appeared before Angela’s tortured mind. She was delicate, beautiful, and lonely as ever. Sophia stretched out her arms to Angela, begging her not to enter Hell. Slowly, the peaceful world they had built together crumbled apart.

  Pain threatened to stop Angela’s heart.

  But I have to enter, Angela argued with her. For your sake. I have to.

  But what was that horrible screaming voice in the background, interrupting them?

  The fierce grip on Angela’s mind weakened abruptly. Her eyes snapped open. She clutched at her throat. It ached like she’d tried to swallow a knife, and her voice was raspy and raw.

  That screaming voice had been hers.

  She rocked to her feet. A deep shiver in the ground quaked up through her body, nearly flinging Angela back to her knees. Kim grabbed her by the arm, trying to hold them both steady. For a moment, the universe groaned, and the air warped. Angela clutched her stomach with her free hand. A thick wave of nausea twisted through her.

  “It’s starting,” he shouted. “The Realms are growing more unstable.”

  No, Angela shouted back to herself in her mind. No. I didn’t finish this yet. It’s not over yet. I can reach Sophia!

  The earth stopped trembling with odd suddenness. The silence returned.

  The Watchers stared at Angela without a single trace of emotion. If they had been surprised by what had just happened, they would never show it. Instead, their eyes pierced Angela like fine needles. Their voices returned. Now, they sounded angrier, as if they had judged her memories and past and found them lacking.

  Creature of dreaded omens . . . you are unclean . . . a thing that should not be. A soul without a name.

  Nothing unclean enters this place.

  Nothing enters this place that is not of this place.

  Angela glanced back and forth between the two nearest angels converging on her. She held the Glaive up high, screaming out in terror despite the raw pain in her throat.

  You are ours now—and the Watchers will deal with you.

  She swung the Glaive, staggering slightly.

  Blood sprayed back on her. Two of the dreadful Watchers dropped back into the sand, now truly lifeless.

  Instantly, more of them soared in, followed by yet more in a punishing hell of angels. The world became a blur. Angela swung, she cursed, she hacked off wings that spiraled down into the sand, and she cut off arms that flopped twitching to the ashen ground. Blood hit her in the eyes.

  She shrieked, twisting the Glaive so that it caught a Watcher in the chest, flinging it backward at least fifty feet.

  Still they came, relentless and terrible.

  Angela knelt on the ground, gasping for breath. The world wheeled and spun around her even faster than before. She couldn’t hold out much longer. Already, she felt the Glaive sucking away all of her energy and turning her muscles to jelly. Her heartbeat slowed to the rolling rhythm of a great drum in her ears.

  She shouted in surprise and swung the Glaive hard to her right. A Watcher dropped in two pieces to the ground.

  Unclean? Is that what she really was? But Angela wasn’t just the Archon—she was a person too.

  More Watchers swooped in. Angela cut them down like a reaper of birds, wing after wing, beautiful face after beautiful face. The exhaustion was almost too much. Blood dripped in her eyes.

  I’ll never win at this rate. Sophia—wait. I’m doing my best. For you, for Troy, for Nina.

  The thought of Nina dead again tore into Angela like a pair of ragged claws. Tears blurred over the unfair world around her. She shrieked and stumbled, but caught another Watcher before its hands could wrap themselves around her throat. Dizziness brushed at Angela, pitching her sideways.

  Not yet! Not yet!

  “Exorcizo te,” Kim screamed. His voice resounded over the cries of the Watchers.

  There was a flash of brilliant red light. The angels drew back with angry cries.

  Angela whipped around, her matted hair half screening her vision. She wobbled, and suddenly the Glaive collapsed. Blue liquid gushed down her arms and dribbled to the ground. She slipped and tried to catch her balance. Kim grabbed her hard and tugged her forward.

  Ashy sand sprayed around Angela’s ankles.

  She ran, trying to keep up with Kim as he shouted in Latin. She stumbled once, twice, again and again in the powdery sand. She wrapped her hand around the necklace pendant at her chest. The Grail throbbed and burned so fiercely, Angela’s hand felt as if it might melt into a puddle of flesh.

  They exited the corridor of obelisks. The voices and the cries of the Watchers ceased.

  Still, Kim refused to stop running.

  Time slipped away in a rush of fear and pain. They could have been running for an hour, perhaps more. Still they continued. Angela kept up with him, her pounding heart and scorching adrenaline pushing her forward despite her dizziness. But there would be no relief for them soon. The sand stretched away in a vast desert, and at its end a great city loomed on the horizon. This was the dreaded demon city of Babylon—it had to be. Onyx and obsidian glistened in the hazy light of the lamps working as the cavern’s suns. Brilliant fires touched thousands of the city’s windows, glittering in patterns of red and yellow. Pyramids rose high into the fog. Everything was jaggedness and sharp edges, as if the city had been constructed with great black teeth. The low growl of thunder touched her ears, and Angela imagined the city was as angry as it looked. Soon the thunder evolved into an ugly roar.

  It was coming from behind them.

  Angela stopped for breath, her hands on her knees as she gasped. Taking another step felt like courting death.

  Kim glanced behind them, his face grimmer than ever. “You’re kidding,” he shouted over the noise. He cursed in angry frustration. “Damn it!”

  Angela turned and looked up. Her eyes widened.

  Now she understood why the Watchers had drawn back. They no longer needed any more casualties when there was an entire army to chase after Angela and Kim. The horizon behind them seethed with dust and bodies and hellish light. A dreadful mix of demons and possibly human ghosts sat astride creatures resembling horses with long, ribbed horns sharp as spears. If they were unicorns, they were unicorns from Hell, and mesmerizing blue patterns of light flickered and flashed along their bodies in the gloom. Angela thought instantly of the horselike creatures on Stephanie’s wall, the door, and the map of Hell. But those carvings had done little justice to creatures so otherworldly and fearsome.

  Fear and wonder rooted Angela to the ground. She couldn’t bring herself to look away.

  The ghostly riders—were they human souls capture
d by Lucifel? Angela remembered with a hot pain in her soul how her own dead parents had chosen Lucifel over their only daughter when given the choice.

  Perhaps they were among the army even now, aching to cut off her head.

  “They’re riding Kirin,” Kim shouted to Angela. “Lilith must have sent them. So much for her son’s promises—”

  “What now!” Angela yelled back. Her throat still hurt and she no longer cared. Soon she might not have the chance to care about anything ever again.

  “The Glaive,” he screamed at her desperately.

  Angela weakly tried to summon it again, but only managed to form a blue dagger in her hand. Her head pounded, and her left hand holding the dagger trembled violently. She staggered.

  Kim stared at her wildly. He turned, seeming to search toward Babylon, and then back toward where they’d exited the labyrinth. “Python!” he screamed. “Python!”

  The army pursued them and was closing in fast enough that some of the demons sat low and intent on their charges. Very few of the demons had wings. They’d probably disintegrated long ago, and now they relied on the Kirin for long-distance travel. Kim cursed again and then his face changed, brightness and excitement sweeping over it. Two Kirin crested a low hill and galloped toward Angela and Kim from across the plain. Upon reaching Angela, the great creatures reared up and their paws thumped down powerfully in the sand. Their horns were even more intimidating up close. Saddles with the symbol of a violet snake carved into the side lay on their backs.

  “He pulled through,” Kim shouted. “Thank God! Quick! Get on!”

  Angela had never ridden a horse before, much less a creature as fearsome as this. She balked at the Kirin as it snorted hot breath in her face. Its eyes glowed yellow like Troy’s and held a striking intelligence.

  Ride, Stephanie’s voice yelled in her memories. Ride away before it’s too late . . .

  Was this what she’d meant? Had she seen Angela on one of these creatures in some hellish vision?

  “Where do we go?” Angela screamed at Kim.

  Kim brought one of the Kirin closer to Angela. He tugged on its reins sharply, turning it toward the city again. The Kirin struggled and then obeyed, stomping at the earth. “Toward the city, and then down alongside the bank of the Styx,” he shouted. “Toward Lucifel’s Altar.”

  Angela hesitated.

  Kim can’t get that far. If he does, he’ll free Lucifel.

  “Come on!” He lifted Angela and practically tossed her onto the Kirin’s saddle. “This one will follow its mate. Just let the reins loose and allow it to follow my charge.”

  Angela settled down in the saddle without saying another word. She gripped the reins, staring at Kim as he jumped into his own Kirin’s saddle and kicked it sharply at the flanks.

  The noise of the army behind them rang and echoed deafeningly. It was almost upon them.

  Angela’s Kirin launched forward behind Kim’s, and she cried out, gripping the reins so tightly her hands burned. Shudders ran through her as its heavy paws struck the ground. Air blew back in her face, whipping her hair straight back. Babylon loomed ahead. Closer, larger. Soon, Angela gave up on the reins entirely and wrapped her arms around the Kirin’s neck, careful to keep her dagger away from its black mane. Their rollicking pace sent her teeth chattering.

  They thundered on, but it was no use. Whether because of skill or luck, the army was now only a few yards behind them. The noise of Kirin paws striking the earth was so loud Angela could barely think.

  One of the ghost riders broke free of the army and galloped side by side with Angela.

  She stared at him. Her heart could have dropped into the pit of her stomach.

  It was Camdon Willis. He was focused on the city like a mindless drone, and his transparent body glowed a ghostly red. As if in a dream, his face turned slowly in her direction. Their gazes locked. With a cry of recognition, he veered in toward her. He grinned in triumph—and swiped at Angela viciously with a nasty-looking dagger.

  “Camdon!” Angela screamed.

  He showed no sign of changing his tactics. Instead, he veered in even closer.

  Angela straightened a bit, tugging on the reins. Her Kirin dodged to the right but moved back to avoid a rock in the sand. Grasping his opportunity, Camdon sliced at her leg. Angela yanked on the reins and swerved aside again, nearly slipping off the saddle. She kicked at the Kirin’s sides and it galloped faster.

  Nina’s half brother caught up with nightmarish quickness. Soon they were again side by side and uncomfortably close. “Camdon!” Angela screamed one more time.

  He wasn’t himself anymore. Angela’s brother Brendan had changed once his soul was possessed. Why should Camdon be any different?

  Camdon dipped in to slice at her legs yet again. This time, a stinging pain raced through her calf.

  She screamed.

  Angela struck back with her blue dagger, swiping at Camdon’s hands. The blade seemed to pass through nothing but air, but Camdon stared at her in surprise, his eyes widening with shock. His Kirin slowed and he looked at his hands like he’d never seen them before. Camdon smiled at Angela again, but now that smile was filled with gratefulness. He closed his eyes, as if relieved at whatever came next.

  With a blinding flash, he burst into a thousand sparks of red light that blew back through her hair.

  “NO,” Angela screamed. “STOP!” She jerked on the reins, desperately hoping for the beast to halt, her hands shaking like leaves. But it didn’t seem to make a difference. “CAMDON! CAMDON!”

  The Kirin rode on.

  Thirty-one

  Sophia’s eyes held the same pain as my own mother’s when I disappointed her time and again. And so, I couldn’t help hating her. —PYTHON

  Sophia was the Book of Raziel, but she also considered herself to be a person like any other. Despite that, she’d been treated as a creature with feelings by only two people in her entire life: Raziel and Angela. Knowing this, Python had given into his sadism and forced her to sit in front of an obsidian mirror, and its surface had displayed and continued to display every moment of Angela’s journey from the second she’d entered Hell to save Sophia.

  At first, Sophia had feigned cool indifference.

  But the more Angela suffered, the more Sophia knew anguish blossomed on her face. She refused to beg—as the Book of Raziel it was not only beneath her, it was exactly what Python wanted and would make no difference. But Sophia did allow herself to cry. Unable to leave, unable to help, she sat in Python’s chair exactly as he’d tied her there, watching and weeping.

  “What do you think?” Python said. He leaned down beside Sophia, whispering in her ear. Together they watched as Angela clung to the Kirin’s neck, screaming. Angela had gritted her teeth and her bloodstained face looked as anguished as Sophia felt. Python sighed. “She’ll get here, doll. Don’t worry. The Archon has more spunk than I’d hoped. Soon she’ll arrive, she’ll open you, and then”—he smiled grimly—“a new era begins. If anything, this was too easy. Is it so much to ask to have a challenge now and then?”

  This time, Sophia allowed the scorn souring her thoughts to be heard. “A challenge?” she whispered. “You’re a fool if you think Lucifel doesn’t know what you’re trying to do.”

  Python barely flinched. “Her awareness doesn’t matter if I win. Lucifel is the bird in the cage. Not me.”

  “Continue in your world of delusion,” Sophia said softly.

  Python stared at Sophia with his intense, fiery orange eyes. He seemed to be considering her carefully.

  “What is it all for, Python?” Sophia said. More tears rolled hotly down her face. “To spite your mother? Then I suppose you’re not so different from the angels themselves, are you? Each and every one that falls, to my shame has done so with disgrace, trying to hide their sins behind painted smiles. But it is fitting that the sight of you destroying yourself should be just one more punishment for me among many. What an ironic testament to the flawed destiny I ha
ve brought upon you all.”

  Python opened his mouth, about to retort.

  A flash of greenish light brightened his room. Lilith appeared from within the light, her dark and beautiful face tight with anger. She strolled quickly toward Python, looking like she would strangle him. Instead, she grabbed him by the collar, shook him, and threw him violently against the wall.

  Python laughed. His face, however, was chillingly cold. “Mother, how unexpected at this hour. Whatever could be wrong?”

  “I know what you did,” Lilith shouted viciously at him. “You rotten little snake. Why do I put up with you?” She raised her hand to strike him but seemed to think better of it. With a struggle, she lowered her shaking hand and regained her dignity. “But it doesn’t matter. Your little game, my bored and boring son, ends here. I’ve sent enough souls and slaves after Angela Mathers to catch her, rip her to pieces, and scatter the bits to every corner of Hell.”

  “I know that,” Python said insolently. He pointed at the mirror in front of Sophia. “Yet you’ve forgotten that not every slave in this chasm is loyal to you alone. Like me, some have grown tired of Lucifel’s reign. I have my own cavalry, my own loyal regiment like every other lieutenant in Hell. And they also think it’s high time to let the blackbird out of her cage. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised you overlooked that detail in your single-minded revenge.”

  Lilith stared at the image of Angela riding the Kirin and pursed her lips dangerously. She rounded back on Python. “You’re an idiot. Do you realize what Lucifel will do if she learns about your betrayal? Isn’t it hypocritical enough when my Naamah died for the same twisted fantasy?”

  “What?” he whispered, advancing on Lilith. “What will Lucifel do? Give orders? Try to have me killed? Words and threats, given from her spider’s web of chains. And if we’re arguing about idiocy and common sense, I doubt you’ll emerge with the upper hand. I gave you the soul of Camdon Willis, but you didn’t use him to your advantage, Mother. Instead, he lived long enough for the Archon to send every bit of his essence back to the elements. What fine work.”