Forgiven (34 page)

‘People don’t change that much, lass. We just think we do. Since yer a Blackthorne, ya can represent the English side.’

She lined up her pieces and prepared to be slaughtered.

‘Have ya ever seen yer namesake? The tree, I mean?’ Stewart questioned as he moved a pawn forward. Riley shook her head. ‘Wicked thorns on the thing, but it has delicate little flowers and the sweetest berries, but only after a hard frost of course.’

She wondered where he was going with his arboreal lecture. ‘Ah, that means what?’

He smiled patiently. ‘Trials and setbacks. Strife often leads ta a sweeter life. That’s the lesson of the blackthorn.’

‘I’m due for some of the sweet, I think.’

‘Aye. We all are, lass.’

He fell silent after that as they played. It was hard to concentrate, but she tried, not wanting to look like a complete dork in front of the master. Riley suspected he had another reason for spending time with an amateur chess player when the world was melting down around them. Stewart would get to the point when he was ready.

The old master won handily. Left on the board were only a few pieces, the majority of which were his. He picked up one of her pawns, twisting it between his thumb and middle finger as he examined it. ‘I’m guessin’ this is how ya see yerself right now.’

Riley nodded.

‘Ya’ve been doin’ research in the library. Ya left the books out.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I won’t do it again.’

‘It’s nay a problem, lass,’ he said, and set the chess piece down. ‘After all that readin’ about fallen angels, tell me what ya think is goin’ on.’

Riley marshalled her thoughts, since the old master was too savvy to allow her to throw just anything at him.

‘Ozymandias has found a way to mess with the demons. Someone, who isn’t a necro, is helping him.’ It seemed the right time to reveal her secret. ‘I’m thinking that’s Sartael. He’s the fallen angel who lied to Ori, told him that Lucifer wanted my soul.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He turned Simon against me and he set the Five on my dad.’

One of Stewart’s silver eyebrows arched. ‘How do ya know this Fallen’s name?’

She told Stewart about Ori and his status as a statue, courtesy of Lucifer. Then she related her conversation with the two Divines in the cemetery.

The master leaned back in the chair, pensive. ‘Why did ya think it was wise ta go to the cemetery?’

‘No choice. He kept shouting at me and it was driving me crazy. I thought my head would explode.’

‘Ya do know that move put both of our lives in peril?’ he asked, sterner now.

‘I know, but Martha wanted me to talk to him. She gave me Sartael’s name so I could use it against Ori.’

‘Really?’ He scratched his chin in thought.

‘Do you have to tell the hunters about this?’

Stewart groaned. ‘By God, I should. I won’t, because we need ta work as a team and we can’t do that if we’re in the Vatican’s custody awaitin’ trial.’

‘Thanks,’ she murmured. ‘What do
you
think is going on?’

The Scotsman sat forward in his chair. ‘At best, Lucifer keeps a tentative hold on Hell’s denizens. Many of those have been eager for a final battle. Sartael is one of the chief among them. If he’s been whisperin’ in a certain necromancer’s ear, the result would be undead demons in our midst.’

‘Why hasn’t Lucifer taken out the dude?’

‘The prince is a strategist. If there’s going to be a war in Hell, he needs ta know exactly who he can trust. Sometimes the best way ta flush out yer enemies is by playin’ them against each other.’

‘Like Ori and Sartael,’ she murmured.

Stewart’s tired face crinkled in thought. ‘Yer a Blackthorne. Heaven doesn’t choose their champion without a lot of thought. Neither does Hell, for that matter.’

‘But what do I do?’ Riley asked, frustrated. ‘No one will tell me, at least not the angel Martha. She clams up when I ask. Lucifer won’t say a word. Neither will Ori.’

‘As best as I remember, ya will be forced ta make a decision. If ya decide correctly, then ya’ll plead humanity’s case in front of the angels.’

‘You mean when I’m dead?’ she asked, not liking where this was headed.

‘No, the angels will be massed for war,’ he responded. ‘Ya’ll be standin’ between the two armies.’

Ohmigod.
‘What can I say to keep them from toasting us all?’

‘I have no idea. All I can suggest is that ya speak from yer heart.’

In the distance a clock began to toll midnight. ‘Get some rest. Come back down at nine for breakfast. Harper and I are havin’ a meetin’ of interested parties. Ya need ta be there for the last part of it.’

‘Is it a council of war?’

‘Aye, lass. It’s time to put an end to this misery, one way or another.’

Later, as she drifted to sleep, Riley thought of Beck and the lost kiss. What would it have been like?

Amazing? Just OK? Disappointing? No, never disappointing
. Beck wasn’t that kind of guy.

‘Probably awesome.’ The demons had screwed up her life again.

It’s time to return the favour.

As instructed, Riley tromped down the stairs at nine in the morning. The kitchen table was full of coffee cake and people. Father Rosetti and Captain Salvatore were there for the hunters, Ayden and Mort for the magical folks, then the two masters and Beck. Riley pulled out a chair and eyed the plate mounded with coffee cake and doughnuts.

‘I can try to break the enchantment that binds the demons,’ Mort said, ‘but I need a focus for that spell.’

‘Ya heard Salvatore, they destroyed all the bodies,’ Beck replied, shorter than usual. He looked totally wiped, like he hadn’t slept in days. ‘There has to be another way.’

‘There is – I try to break the spell and fail. Get me one of those demons and I’ll have a lot better chance.’

‘That’ll take too much time,’ Beck muttered.

‘What about that demon tooth I brought you?’

Mort shook his head. ‘It’s too magically charged to be of use. I destroyed it.’

Oh . . .
Riley had another option, one the Vatican already knew about.

‘How about a demon claw?’ she said, pulling the talon out from under her sweater. ‘It belongs to one of the weird ones. I saw the thing at the market last night.’

‘How can you be sure?’ Mort asked. ‘Don’t they all look the same?’

‘It’s the one with the big white splotch on the back of its neck. It tried to eat me in Demon Central, so I remember it
really
well.’

‘We didn’t burn that one’s corpse, so it’s still alive,’ Salvatore said.

‘Then you can use it for whatever it is Mort wants to do,’ Riley said.

‘There’s a red flag on that play,’ Ayden replied. ‘The claw was once physically part of you, soaked in your blood. That changes things.’

‘Why would it matter?’

Ayden and Mort exchanged looks. It was the necromancer who explained.

‘You have a direct connection with that demon now.’ He let out a heavy breath. ‘That means you’re going to have to cast the spell.’

‘What? I don’t do magic.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll help you with the Latin,’ Mort replied.

‘It doesn’t matter if it’s in Latin or whatever. I don’t cast spells. I’m a trapper. That’s enough hassle.’ Especially when Rome’s grand inquisitor was taking notes on her every move.

‘I’m sorry, Riley, but you’re the strongest candidate,’ Mort replied.

‘You should not pressure the child into evil,’ Father Rosetti retorted.

‘I’m not. I’m being honest,’ Mort shot back. ‘If we want to destroy these demons, our best chance is to have Riley perform the spell. She has a direct connection with one of them.’

‘You will be taking your soul one step closer to Hell,’ Rosetti said, speaking to her now. ‘Rome
will
make note of that.’

How do I get into this mess?
‘If it destroys the demons, I’ll do it,’ she said.

‘Your soul . . .’ Rosetti began.

‘Is mine. Why do people keep telling me what to do with the thing? If I choose to barter it away to save people’s lives, it will be my choice,’ Riley said, flushing with anger.

‘Then you will bear consequences,’ the priest warned. ‘The terms of our agreement with Master Stewart precluded you from participating in any activity that put your soul in jeopardy.’

‘I got that,’ she said. ‘I don’t see any other option. Do you, Father Rosetti?’

Riley expected a lecture, maybe even handcuffs. Instead, the priest shook his head in dismay.

‘I fear you are correct,’ he replied. ‘As is often the case, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’

Stewart snorted. ‘So is the one ta Heaven, I’ve heard.’

It took another half hour of haggling over the details, but when all the talking was done they’d agreed it should go down at dawn the next day. The location shouldn’t have been a surprise: Oakland Cemetery. There’d be a strategy meeting tonight, but Riley wasn’t going to be there because she’d be learning rudimentary Latin pronunciation.

‘Come over to the house about at three thirty,’ Mort said as she walked him to the front door. ‘We’ll work for a few hours, you can rest, then we’ll do more.’

‘How hard is it? I mean, is the spell really difficult?’

‘It’s not the hardest, but it’s certainly not the easiest.’

Which in Mort-speak meant it was a big deal, but he was trying not to scare her.

She changed subjects. ‘How’s my dad?’

‘Not much better,’ the summoner admitted. ‘He keeps raving about the demons. His mind is lost, Riley. I’m not sure if it’s ever coming back.’

‘Ozy will pay for that, right? He has to,’ she insisted.

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ The summoner let himself out.

Confused as to what the future might bring, how bad it might become, Riley took the stairs up to her room, trailing her hand along the smooth wooden banister. There was no sunlight in her life now. Instead it grew darker by degrees, like approaching nightfall. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be for the one who would stand between the eternal armies of Heaven and Hell.

There was only one consolation.

Her father wouldn’t notice that the world had ended.

If Riley had ever made a list of what she would do on her last day on earth, it wouldn’t include watching her clothes tumble dry in a dryer that squeaked with every turn. Still, she refused to leave dirty underwear behind, or a grubby refrigerator or a messy apartment. Even if the rest of humanity wasn’t going to be around to appreciate her tidiness.

Once that task was complete, Riley returned to her apartment and stuffed money into envelopes to pay for various bills. The world might survive, but if she didn’t she wanted her slate clean. With the Consolidated Debt creeps out of her hair now – they’d even left a snarky ‘thank you for paying off your loan even though we had to hound you to the ends of the earth’ message on her answering machine – that left the everyday bills. In the background, the television news ran special reports about the citywide Holy Water distribution plan. With Rome’s assistance, the local diocese had figured out a way to bless entire tanker-loads of water and distribute the sacred liquid around the city,
for free
.

That should keep people from freaking out.

Her cellphone pinged a new message from Peter. NO SCHOOL TODAY!!!

Riley sent back her THANKS for the update, but didn’t bother to tell him she’d have cut class anyway. No way she could become a Latin scholar and take a pop quiz on Sherman’s military tactics at the same time.

Her ears caught the faint sound of little feet pattering across the kitchen counter. Funny how her demon roomie could choose to be stealthy or not. She waited until he came into sight.

‘Hey, guy.’ The wee fiend observed her for a moment, then leaped on to the table, his bag in hand.

How does he do that?
It would have been the equivalent of a human jumping the Grand Canyon. The Magpie dropped the bag of loot in front of him and began to root around inside. Out came all sorts of items, including a steady stream of multicoloured glitter. Finally he found what he was hunting for and came forward toting her silver seashell earring. The one he’d taken from her dresser. Standing on his tiptoes, he offered it up to her. If this hadn’t been one of Lucifer’s minions, it would have been way cute.