An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) (61 page)

She jerked around, staring. He gave her a smile, nodding confidently, trying to reassure her. They held each other’s gazes for a long moment, and he sensed her terror and aching heart. Obviously, she longed to talk to him. The agonized set of her mouth told him that much. But such a thing would get them both killed and lose Horeb as well.

He shook his head sternly and started backing away, searching for the best place to edge out of the crowd. As the guards pushed forward, following the Mashiah onto the pad, he slowed, drifting to the periphery, then dodged onto a side street.

She followed Adom up the gangplank to the
samael,
looking over her shoulder, dark eyes glistening with tears.

Jeremiel ducked out of sight, throwing himself against the wall of a bakery. The sweet scent of bread curled around him. “You have to, Rachel,” he whispered, licking dry lips.
“God damn it, don’t let me down now!”

He turned and ran headlong up the street, trying to reach the entrance to the caves that rested just above the palace.

Ornias watched the
samael
lift off, shooting toward the pole and then strode hurriedly away from the spaceport, leading the guards, who formed a disorganized herd behind him. The pistol on his belt slapped uncomfortably against his hip. Blast! When he felt he had to carry a weapon rather than having someone else do it, things were getting too tense for comfort. Wind set the hem and sleeves of his mauve robe to flapping. He yawned irritably. Adom had wakened him at three o’clock, jerking him from Shassy’s reluctant arms, and he’d barely had time to breathe since. Getting the protective forces, ship, and necessary equipment organized had kept him running for the past three hours. But at least Adom was out of his way. Now he’d have the freedom to culminate his deal with Tahn without worrying about the Mashiah and his delusions.

He turned up the street that led to the palace. People waved to him and he resentfully waved back. The idiots, why weren’t they at work in the fields? Then it occurred to him that it was only six. They had another hour before they had to go. That didn’t sooth him much. They were up, they ought to be producing!
He
was up and had been producing for hours.

The parapet loomed large before him, guards crowding around, peering out as he approached. “Lift the portcullis,” he ordered shortly.

“Sir,” a sergeant whispered from within as the grate rose. “You’d best hurry. Shassy’s been driving us mad. She tried to climb the walls while you were gone, and nearly tore off Lieutenant Rangon’s head when he pulled her down. We had to lock her in the palace for fear she’d—”

“What? Get out of my way!” he growled, ducking beneath the still lifting portcullis. He ran across the garden. If she’d tried to escape, something was terribly wrong. “What’s the matter, precious?” he asked through gritted teeth. She knew it would mean her husband’s and his religious order’s lives if she failed to carry out her part of the bargain. Of course, he’d planned on crushing them anyway, but she didn’t know that.
Did she?

He raced up the fan steps, throwing back the brass doors. Shassy hit him like a frightened cat, clawing and screeching. Her black hair jutted out at odd angles, as though she’d torn at it with frantic fingers. Her silver robe had crimson stains hugging the hem. Blood?

“Ornias! For god’s sake, you incompetent fool, he’s escaped!”

“What are you talking about?”

Her wild eyes narrowed and she slapped him across the face with all the force she could muster. He staggered backward, enraged by the stinging ache in his jaw. “I could have you killed for that, precious.”

“Go ahead. We’re all going to die now! The Magistrates will think you’ve been lying to them and they’ll scorch us!” She broke into sobs.

“Tell me what you’re—”

“I went to see Baruch to ask him about my husband,” she blurted. “And I found the guards dead, splattered across the hall! And he was gone!”

Adrenaline flushed Ornias’ system. He shoved her out of his way and took the stairs to the second floor three at a time.
Baruch gone?
His entire future crumbled before his eyes. It had to be Shassy’s husband. The man had double-crossed him! Who else would help the Underground leader escape? But it didn’t make any sense! Damn them! He’d pound their caves until nothing but rubble remained!

Panting, he darted around the final corner, sliding to a halt at the carnage that met his eyes. Baruch’s door swung wide open and in the hall beyond, arms and legs twisted at hideous angles from a bloody mass of dead. Elaysin’s green eyes stared sightlessly at him, accusing, just as Shassy’s had done.

“You fools!” he screamed, on the verge of wrathful hysteria. “It’s your fault! You let him escape!”

He pulled the pistol from his belt and fired into the dead bodies, watching them explode. A severed hand slammed the wall beside his head. He stumbled sideways, but he kept firing … until no eyes could accuse.

He had to get Baruch back. He
would
get him back. If Shassy no longer worked as a tool, he’d have to throw the weight of his military might against the caves. He’d planned on doing that on a lesser scale anyway, but now he’d have to hurry. Before Tahn demanded he turn Baruch over and he couldn’t comply.

Idly, he noticed that a river of blood coursed over his boots. He kicked it, letting the coppery scent ease his frenzy. Heaving a deep sigh, he holstered the pistol and walked briskly back down the hall, glaring at the statues of the saints.

Most of his forces were training in the caves beneath the palace. The time had come for them to take to their ships.

CHAPTER 38

Zadok plodded tiredly across the open field. Cool grass reached to his knees, brushing against his coarse robe. Wind blew over the wildflowers, rustling their white and yellow heads. But amidst the beauty, his skin tingled painfully. The few gray hairs still dotting his head stood on end, teased by the powerful presence of Epagael.

“The
Reshimu,”
he whispered to himself, “is the source of Evil in the universe? Then what role does the Deceiver, Aktariel, play? And why are all the angels in heaven eagerly awaiting the outcome of his plan to destroy my universe?”

He pondered the conundrum, knowing the simple solution was to ask Epagael when he reached the Veil. But he’d rarely accepted simple solutions, preferring to reason them out first.

As he climbed over a soft swell in the land, his breathing quickened. At the foot of the snowcapped blue mountains ahead, the seventh crystal palace gleamed, its faceted surface reflecting a rainbow of colors. Four towers jutted up like spears to pierce the clouds. Round-faced cherubim hung from them playfully, laughing and pointing at the wheels of fire that tossed and reeled through the sky above.

“Zadok?” a rich heavenly voice called. Anapiel, the last gatekeeper, stepped out of the crystalline palace doors. Clad in a deep blue robe cinched around the waist by a golden sash, the creature flapped his wings lazily. “You’re early. I thought Michael would keep you longer.”

“No, Lord,” he answered, hurrying down the path. “Michael and I got along amiably this time.”

“I’m surprised. I’m sure his bet is
for.”

“For
what?”

Anapiel rubbed his golden chin, laughing softly as he leaned a shoulder against the shimmering wall. “Never mind. Suffice it to say, Michael’s a rank sentimentalist. He still harbors loyalties that should have died millennia ago.”

Zadok frowned.
Loyalties to whom?
The same tendrils of doubt that had taunted him when he stood before the archangel returned.
Not Aktairel?
All the old books spoke of how the wicked creature had once been Epagael’s chosen, leading all lesser angels, but surely Michael knew that since the Fall from heaven Aktariel had gone bad.
Just like the
Reshimu.

“Anapiel,” Zadok said shortly, plodding toward the open door. “Forgive me, but I desperately need to talk to Epagael.”

Anapiel stepped in front of Zadok, blocking the door. “Not yet, patriarch. Epagael said he’d let me know when He was ready to receive you.”

“He’s never kept me waiting before. What’s the delay?”

“Oh, some final ploy of Aktariel’s,” the angel responded nonchlantly, but his amber eyes gleamed like flames. “So you might as well sit down, Zadok. I’ve no idea how long this will take. But believe me, if I could hurry you along I would,” he added, smiling deprecatingly. “My bet is
against.”

Cole Tahn ran briskly up the white corridor, passing saluting crew members without responding. Pounding the access button to the transportation tube, he panted, “Bridge.” He’d been sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks when Halloway’s urgent call blared through his quarters. “God damn Gamants! What the hell have they done now?”

He burst through the bridge door and ran into the midst of a holographic display. The surface of Horeb spread ethereally across the bridge, his officers visible beneath it. A massive array of spiny sandstone ridges, bleak deserts, and chunky houses gleamed.

“Point it out, lieutenant,” he ordered, eyes going over the image.

Halloway got lithely to her feet, striding to the hilly location outside of Seir. Her auburn hair glinted coppery in the harsh lights. “Here, sir. Though the location is camouflaged you can see the cannon emplacement. As well, the men emerging from below ground, here and here, are certainly scattered troops. They—”

“Damn them!” he cursed incredulously. “Have they lost their minds?” Slipping around his chair, he walked to her side, studying the suspect location more carefully. The holo display could pick out an ant at five hundred miles and trace its invisible trail back to its hole. How had they missed the initial operations? “Yes, those are definitely troops.” Each soldier carried a rifle and pistol. The packs on their backs indicated they’d probably be involved in ground movements, away from supply centers for at least several days, maybe even a week. “The fools. Don’t they know what a war will force me to do?”

“I distinctly recall you telling them, sir.”

He spun, shouting, “Get me that blasted councilman, Macey!”

“Captain,” Halloway said, emerald eyes boring into him. “You should also be aware that the Mashiah and an unknown woman left Seir four hours ago. His ship landed in the polar region just before I disturbed you.”

“Disturbed, hell. You pulled me out of the first satisfying dream I’ve had in weeks.”

“Satisfying?” she murmured knowingly. “It didn’t involve Gamant politics, I take it?”

“Not hardly.” He walked to drop uneasily into his command chair. “Do we have any idea why the Mashiah would chose to leave the city at this particular moment?”

Hands on her shapely hips, she paced before the navigation console. “We can only assume that he’s fleeing the coming battle.”

“Uh-huh. All right. Cut the holo, Halloway, and get on the com. Dannon knows Baruch’s strategies. Get him up here! If all this ‘bartering’ has been a trick to buy time so Baruch could organize a full-scale revolt, I’ll—”

“Sir,” Macey’s clipped voice interrupted. The young officer swung around in his chair to face Tahn. The com aura snapped on, a golden halo flaring around his head. “Clandestine
One
message coming in from Kayan. Bogomil demands to speak with you immediately.”

Tahn squeezed his eyes closed. “What now? Put him on screen.”

He tried valiantly to straighten the wrinkles of his purple uniform which he’d thrown over a chair only five hours ago, but the effort was clearly hopeless. He settled for sucking in a tense breath before the captain’s face formed. Sweat beaded Bogomil’s broad brow, and damp curls of red clung to his temples. In the background, Tahn saw Silbersay sitting rigidly, face turned away from the screen.

“You look like an Orillian havelina’s been after you, Brent. What’s up?”

“Cole, thank you for acknowledging so quickly. Life on Kayan is not going well. We’ve—”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a battle in the making there, too?”

“Too?”

“Yes, we’ve just discovered Horeb is ready to burst at the seams. What’s happening on other Gamant planets? Heard any scuttlebutt? Are these isolated events, or do they form a pattern? We’re not facing another Gamant Revolt, are we?”

“Rioting is coming in waves on nearly every Gamant planet, but no organization seems to be present. Except here on Kayan. And we’ve got a full-scale war on our hands, Tahn.” Bogomil hesitated, tapping a waser pen on the desk before him and glancing uncomfortably at Silbersay. The colonel kept his back to the screen. “The Magistrates have authorized a Prime Mover Two maneuver, Cole. How soon can you comply?”

His stomach muscles clenched tight. He lowered his gaze, massaging his forehead. Halloway whispered in a low savage voice, “Bogomil always opts for absolute solutions. What is he, Slothen’s hit man?”

Tahn exhaled tautly,
“Prime Mover, Brent?
I can’t believe there are no alternatives. Did you try selective sterilizations?”

“We’ve tried everything. Nothing’s worked,” he defended, as though he resented Tahn’s suggestion that he might have missed something. “At this very moment, we’re deep underground because the enemy is pounding the installation over our heads. Yesterday they bombed two field camps.”