Enthroned by Amethysts (A Dance with Destiny Book 3) (21 page)

Chapter 28

Varick

(VAH-rick)

Varick made his way through the first seven layers of the universe. It had taken him months.

He had searched mostly as Alzeen, and the form had become nearly as comfortable to him as his angelic one.

“Has my son forsaken his people?”

He spun around when he heard Vareen’s melodic voice. “How is it I did not sense you, Mother?”

“Perhaps you have worn your mask too long, my son. You know what kind of effect that can have on a Guardian. Perhaps you’ve become more human than Vanir. If you continue at this pace, you will soon lose your wits,” she warned.

“And has that ever truly happened? Or is it not just something parents say to scare their children into behaving?” He laughed at the memories flooding back from his childhood.

“Ah, already you question me, as if it were possible for me to bear false tongue.”

Varick removed his mask. “Apologies, Mother. Perhaps you’re right. I have not been feeling quite myself as of late,” he admitted.

“The same thing happened to my dear sister, Valiza, long before you were born. She fell in love with a man and wished to live as his human wife for a time. It didn’t take long. Her trips back to Vanahirdem became fewer and farther between. Within a few short years, she no longer remembered being Vanir.” Tears filled the lovely seer’s eyes. “Valiza lived and died as a human woman with no thoughts of her immortal family playing about in her mind.”

“How is that even possible? How can immortality be ignored?”

“Being immortal is a gift, a blessing, one that must be used to fulfill its purpose. You have heard it said… A blessing refused is no blessing at all.” She smiled lovingly at her son. “The mind is a powerful thing, dear one. Men have believed themselves greater than they are. In so doing, they became even greater than they imagined. It works the same, both ways.”

“What are you saying, Mother? Immortality refused is no longer immortality? If the blessed gift is denied, then… it’s negated?”

She smiled at her regal son. “Something like that.”

He gently touched her shoulder. “Why have you never told me of your dear sister before?”

“It was eons ago, my son. I do not wish to dwell upon my sister. It pains my heart. Although, I was reminded of her tragic story the day you returned to Vanahirdem and told me of your union with Jenevier, of your first exchanging of manacles with your lovely Anicee.”

“But… how did that glorious day pull ghosts from a painful past?”

“It was the deep concern you had for your fair maid at the time. Do you remember?”

Varick could remember everything about that day. It had been the most splendid, and most horrific, of his extremely long existence.

“Yes. I was worried she was becoming too much like Vareilious,” he whispered. “Too much like a hardened warrior.”

“Ah, so you do recall. Jenevier had been summonsed without stop for over eight months when you met up with her in Haven. Most of that time she had spent as Vashti. She wasn’t far from forgetting her humanity completely. She wasn’t far from becoming the Death Angel, from becoming her mask. The same is very near true for you, my son.”

His regal shoulders slumped with frustration and exhaustion. “If I could but find her, that might not prove so bad a thing.” He sighed. “She loves Alzeen with a ferocity that’s very nearly scary. If we ended up as that couple, Jenevier in Alzeen’s arms forever, immortality would be an easy thing to refuse. She lost her angelic powers while she carried the child within her. It has been almost a year since last I saw her, perhaps they didn’t return.”

“What brings your mind to such a conclusion, dear one?”

“She has obviously suffered through the birth of our son… alone. She is no longer burdened with child, Mother. If her angelic powers had returned, she could don her wings. She would have made her way back home by now, back home to me.”

“Perhaps. But… we know not where she is nor do we know what she’s had to go through, my son. Don’t be so sure she is no longer an Angel.” She tenderly touched his noble cheek. “A mother will suffer through
anything
to protect her child, anything. And we know not her trials, dear one. Do not sacrifice your wings only to look up and see your love coming from the clouds once more.”

“Is that why you sought me out this day, Mother? To tell me to remember my wings?”

“In part. You’re needed back in Vanahirdem. I have received many horrible visions. We’ve not yet lived to see the evil that will soon be released into this realm. Things are turning rotten throughout the universe. Something wicked this way comes, Varick. We must make ready.”

*****

When Varick and Vareen entered the gate to their holy city, they were met with shouts of battle formation from Valadrog. The legions of Vanir were gathering, then being sent out to many different layers at once. Demons would soon be popping up like weeds, and they far outnumbered the heavenly Guardians.

“Aye, if we’ve ever needed our lethal wee Death Angel, now’s the time,” Vittorio said.

“What’s happened?” Varick asked. “What has brought on such a cacophony of evil? Were there no warning signs?”

“No, there were not. I had only
just
received the visions,” Vareen answered. “It is almost upon us. Not a moment can be spared.”

“Aye, there ye go again. Trying tae rationalize the behavior of the dark ones, Brother. We know nae why, but it looks like hell is soon tae spill oot intae the daylight,” Vittorio said.

“Something must have caused this. Something catastrophic has happened, something yet secret to us. We may be caught in a trap if we fly into this completely blind, ignorant. Has there been no other word? No summons?” Varick demanded.

“No, my son. Nothing that will shed light on the answers you seek,” Vareen said. “It is as I have said. Horrid visions only. There has been no
how
or
why
revealed unto me.”

“Well something has bloody well pissed off hell’s Prince. No way this much evil is just a coincidence.” Vareilious snorted. “Reports are already coming back in. It’s like he has his twisted mind set upon starting the damn apocalypse all by himself.”

“Aye, so much for hoping love could change a man, or an Angel,” Vittorio mumbled.

“Love? By all that’s holy. That must be it!” Varick grabbed Vareen’s shoulders. “Mother, try to scry Apollyon. See if he’s left hell. And search again for any trace of Jenevier.” He narrowed his eyes. “Only two things could cause such wrath from that old blue devil.”

“Aye, spill it, Brother. What claims yer mind?”

“Think about it, Brothers.” Varick narrowed his gaze as his voice grew deeper, harder. “Apollyon’s deliberate defiance of God’s command must have
something
to do with Jenevier.”

Vareilious gasped. “He has found her then. She must be in danger.”

“Or dead,” Valadrog added.

Four horrified gazes fell upon the chief Vanir.

“Hard words for hard times, my son.”

“Never speak them again, Father. If she were dead, I’d know it. I could
feel
it. Her soul sings to mine. Her song may be muted, yet it plays on. She is not dead. This I know.”

“Aye, yer father gives good counsel, Brother. For that old Angel tae start a bloody war such as this, a grave thing has happened tae our lass… or the babe.”

Varick grabbed Vittorio, his growls and snarls weren’t just a threat. Vittorio responded with such ferocity, all present were in shock. It was all Valadrog and Vareilious could do to separate the enraged warriors.

“This is no time to war with ourselves,” Valadrog yelled.

“Aye, do ye think yer the only one who loves her, Varick? Do ye think yer Princely wings are the only ones she favors? I wulnae longer take a backseat while ye punish her for being human. She’s been under yer protection the whole of her life. What has it gotten her? Ye were so concerned with sheltering an’ hiding her, ye nae took the time tae get tae know her, Brother. I did. I discovered an incredible woman hidden under all those curls an’ I took the time tae get tae know that woman.” He wiped the blood from his lip. “Hell, even Apollyon knows her better than ye do. What more can ye offer her than I can? Dunnae think for one moment yers is the only pain worth fighting for, worth dying for.”

“Enough!” Vareilious yelled. “We’ve no time for such posturing. Feel free to have your little pissing contest once we’ve restored peace, found our Angel, and brought her back into our fold. Act like the mighty warriors you are. Not the barbaric monkeys you seem to be.”

Vareen called out and the four massive warriors gathered in her parlor.

“Did you scry her, Mother? Did you find my beloved?”

“No, Varick. I cannot find her anywhere in this universe.”

“Then, what is it? Who have you found?” Valadrog asked, impatiently.

“Apollyon,” she whispered. “And… he’s no longer in hell.”

Chapter 29

Apollyon

(ah-PAH-lee-ahn)

Valencia saw Apollyon’s giant form sway slightly while a young demon was kneeling before him, speaking.

She heard not his words, but their effect upon the Prince of Hell was obvious. He grabbed the messenger, dragging the protesting demon toward the pit.

Valencia knew. Now wasn’t the best time to be skipping through hell. Apollyon was in no mood to be toyed with.

“Walk in the direction you’re now facing, Mikage. Call out the name I whispered in your ear. He will come to you and hear your confession. Tell him exactly as you told me. Leave out nothing. Your way will be made clear to you then.
He’ll
decide your soul’s fate.”

Valencia gave him a little nudge in the right direction before she flew to the Nether and back into the clouds. She had accomplished all she had set into motion. Now, she was free to live as she had before she’d been forced to babysit that whining human.

Wherever she went, I hope she’s in pain
, Valencia thought.

Mikage Abe had only taken a few steps before he began calling out to the one who would judge him.

“Vindicus,” he rasped. “Vindicus, I have come to make confession unto you.”

He hadn’t gone much further when giant hands seized his advancing shoulders.

“Vindicus, is that you?” he asked.

“How did you come by that name?”

“My Death Angel gave it to me.”

His rough, demonic voice changed into a soft, hopeful plea. “Tell me. Was she tiny? Your Death Angel. Did she have diamond wings and pink hair?”

“No, Milord. She was much taller than I, all but absent color. Her hair hung as silver threads.”

Apollyon’s countenance fell. He lowered his head, deflated. “And why did she tell you to call out this name?” he asked. “What were her instructions to you?”

“I am only to speak to the one who bears this name. Are you Vindicus?”

“I have claimed that name, yes. What do you wish to tell me?”

The old wizard recounted the whole of his confession, starting with his brother’s wife and ending with Jenevier’s dying screams.

The fallen sapphire Angel only stared into the darkness as the most wretched tale imaginable was spun for his denying ears. The accursed news hollowed out his devastated heart, thoroughly erased the precious love he had been blessed with. Thus, returning the Prince of Hell to all his vile, pitiless former glory.

The tiny light Jenevier had lit inside his deadened soul was mercilessly snuffed out.

Never have I committed a more egregious injury than the one that damn she-Guardian has accomplished through the delivery of this single, heartless confession. She made certain I would receive it personally. And she claims to be a creature of heaven. Very well, then. I will make certain she is utterly destroyed… and heaven along with her.

His voice was void all emotion. “Your Death Angel told you to seek me out and deliver these most torturous of all words to mine own ears? Do you know what you now confess to the Prince of Hell, King of
all
Demons?”

“I confess my sins,” Mikage said.

“And you seek reward for confession?”

“I do not. I seek absolution.”

At these words, Apollyon began shaking so hard, hell itself trembled.

“Absolution? Absolution? If such a thing
could
be granted, why would I bestow it upon the admitted murderer of my loving wife and treasured babe?”

A wave of terror rocked the old Shinobi.

“Your wife? But… but the Emperor demanded her for himself. There was no husband there to claim her. Only a lone Guardian stood at her side.”

“
I
am her husband,” Apollyon growled. “I will
always
claim her.”

Mikage fell to his knees and would have wept, had Valencia left him his eyes.

“What will you do to me, Milord?”

“The half has not yet been known.” Apollyon’s answer dripped with venom and ice.

“All that I did was by another’s command,” Mikage cried.

“By your own confession you prove lying tongue. You bound the doors, barring any help from reaching her. You killed my wife and son by your own hand,” he roared.

“Forgive me, Milord.”

“You have gone far past forgiveness. Your sins exceed
all
others before you,” he hissed. “Tell me this. Did your Emperor touch her?”

Mikage was taken aback by the question. “She was only there one day and great with child. I didn’t see him, but I should say he did not touch her.”

“Where lays her body? Where’s my son?”

Apollyon’s roar iced over Mikage’s congealed blood.

“Their ashes would be upon the trash heap outside the palace walls, Your Grace. That’s where I saw them burn her bedding. It’s the only place they dispose of those with no worth.”

Apollyon staggered. “You say this to me? You confess to the only crime in all eternity capable of causing me infinite, immeasurable pain. And now… you deem my family is of
no worth
?”

Mikage could only tremble.

“Ahriman, take this man and hold him. Do all you wish to him, all manner of hurt, all you can possibly conceive. Chain him in the center of hell. Beckon every creature do with him as they will. Deny none. Heed not his cries. When I return, I will award his
true
punishment, personally.”

“Where do you go, Sire?” Ahriman asked. “You know the command. You cannot leave.”

“Speak not to me of commands. I was forbidden from ever looking upon her again. That’s no longer possible. She is but ash, and my son’s mingle with hers. I go now to demand my pound of flesh in return. No one will stop me in this.”

“You will exact your revenge upon the ninth layer?”

“I will exact my revenge upon the universe, upon everything
He
holds most precious.”

“He will utterly destroy you,” Ahriman whispered.

Apollyon turned flaming eyes upon his magical, soul-eating warrior.

“In the span of a breath, I received message from that damnable Guardian of hers, telling me what had befallen my love. Varick convinced a young demon to carry me word, telling me Jenevier was ripe with our child when she simply vanished into thin air. The Guardians couldn’t find her and God was silent concerning my precious love. The unlucky little demon took it upon himself to withhold this most important of messages for months while he played about upon the layers. I was still in the motion of casting him into the pit, when I heard someone calling out the name I had only ever used with her, with the Angel of my heart.” He turned toward Mikage. “This wretch before me now. He made confession to killing my heart and soul. Seconds after learning of their disappearance, I’m told their beautiful bodies were burned atop a trash heap. Because the only beings in all creation I ever cared for… were deemed to be without worth.
Without worth
? I can scarce conceive the words. And all this happened, Ahriman, all of it, while
Father
chose to remain silent in her regard.”

“So, you now go to seek your revenge, thus sacrificing your existence?”

“Of course I do, Ahriman.” Apollyon’s shoulders slumped with grief. “You loved her but for a day. Tell me. Would you do any less had you owned her heart as she owned yours?” Tears poured freely down his perfect cheeks. “He told her she was blessed, Ahriman. He told her He was pleased with her. He
blessed
her.”

“He cannot lie, Sire. This you know.”

The Prince of Hell stared blindly into the void.

“I know… nothing. I believe… nothing. And now, I love… nothing.”