The Fallen Sequence (125 page)

He waded through the field of angels, grateful for the time it took to call out all the choices. He had to recognize his own self before he rose up out of the masses and said the naïve words he’d been paying for ever since.

There was commotion in the Meadow—whispering and flashing lights, a grumble of low thunder. Daniel hadn’t heard the name called, had not seen the angel float up to declare his choice. He shoved through the souls in front of him to get a better view.

Roland. He bowed before the Throne. “With respect, I am not ready to choose.” He looked at the Throne but gestured at Lucifer. “You are losing a son today, and all of us are losing a brother. Many more, it
seems, will follow. Please, do not enter lightly into this dark decision. Do not force our family to splinter apart.”

Daniel teared up at the sight of Roland’s soul—the angel of poetry and music, Daniel’s brother and his
friend
—pleading in the white sky.

“You are wrong, Roland,” the Throne boomed. “And in defying me, you
have
made your choice. Welcome him to your side, Lucifer.”

“No!” Arriane shrieked, and flew up out of the center of brightness to hover beside Roland. “Please, only give him time to understand what his decision means!”

“The decision has been made” was all the Throne said in reply. “I can tell what is in his soul, despite his words—he has already chosen.”

A soul brushed up against Daniel’s. Hot and stunning, instantly recognizable.

Cam.

“What are you?” Cam whispered. He sensed innately that something was different about Daniel, but there was no way to explain who Daniel really was to an angel who’d never left Heaven, who had no conception of what was to come.

“Brother, do not fret,” Daniel pleaded. “It is me.”

Cam grasped his arm. “I perceive that, though I see you’re also not you.” He grimly shook his head. “I trust you are here for a reason. Please. Can you stop this from happening?”

“Daniel.” The scribe was calling his name. “Angel of the silent watchers, the Grigori.”

No
. Not yet. He had not worked out what to say, what to do. Daniel tore through the blinding light of souls around him, but it was too late. His earlier self rose slowly, gazing neither at the Throne nor at Lucifer.

Instead, he was looking into the hazy distance. Looking, Daniel remembered, at her.

“With respect, I will not do this. I will not choose Lucifer’s side, and I will not choose the side of Heaven.”

A roar went up from the camps of angels, from Lucifer, and from the Throne.

“Instead, I choose love—the thing you have all forgotten. I choose love and leave you to your war. You’re wrong to bring this upon us,” Daniel said evenly to Lucifer. Then, turning, he addressed the Throne. “All that is good in Heaven and on Earth is born of love. This war is not just. This war is not good. Love is the only thing worth fighting for.”

“My child,” the rich, steady voice boomed from the Throne. “You misunderstand. I
am
standing firm on my ruling out of love—love for all of my creations.”

“No,” Daniel said softly. “This war is about pride. Cast me out, if you must. If that is my destiny, I surrender to it, but not to you.”

Lucifer’s laughter was a foul belch. “You’ve got the courage of a god, but the mind of a mortal adolescent.
And your punishment shall be that of an adolescent.” Lucifer swept his hand to one side. “Hell will not have him.”

“And he has already made plain his choice to forsake Heaven,” came the disappointed voice from the Throne. “As with all my children, I see what is in your soul. But I do not know now what will become of you, Daniel, nor your love.”

“He will not have his
love
!” Lucifer shouted.

“Then you have something to propose, Lucifer?” asked the Throne.

“An example must be made.” Lucifer seethed. “Can you not see? The love he speaks of is destructive!” Lucifer grinned as the seeds of his most evil act began to sprout. “So let it destroy the lovers and not the rest of us! She will die!”

Gasps from the angels. It was impossible, the very last thing anyone expected.

“She will die always and forevermore,” Lucifer continued, his voice thick with venom. “She will never pass out of adolescence—will die again and again and again at precisely the moment when she remembers your
choice
. So that you will never truly be together. That will be her punishment. And as for you, Daniel—”

“That is sufficient,” the Throne said. “Should Daniel choose to stand by his decision, what you propose, Lucifer, will be punishment enough.” There was a long, strained pause. “Understand: I do not wish this upon any of my children, but Lucifer is right: An example must be made.”

This was the moment when it had to happen, Daniel’s chance to open a loophole in the curse. Boldly, he flew upward in the Meadow to hover side by side with his earlier self. Now was the time to change things, to alter the past.

“What is this twinning?” Lucifer seethed. His newly red eyes narrowed at the two Daniels.

The host of angels below Daniel flickered in confusion. His earlier self looked on in wonder. “Why are you here?” he whispered.

Daniel did not wait for anyone to question him further, did not even wait for Lucifer to sit down or for the Throne to recover from this surprise.

“I have come from our future, from millennia of your punishment—”

The sudden bewilderment of the angels was palpable in the heat sent out of their souls. Of course, this was beyond anything any of them could fathom. Daniel could not see the Throne clearly enough to tell what effect his return had on
him
, but Lucifer’s soul glowed red-hot with rage. Daniel forced himself to go on:

“I come here to beg clemency. If we must be punished—and my Master, I do not question your decision—please at least remember that one of the great features of your power is your mercy, which is mysterious and large and humbles us all.”

“Mercy?”
Lucifer cried. “After the size of your betrayals? And does your future self regret his choice?”

Daniel shook his head. “My soul is old, but my heart is young,” he said, looking at his earlier self, who seemed stunned. Then he gazed at his beloved’s soul, beautiful and burning bright. “I cannot be other than what I am, and I am the choices of all my days. I stand by them.”

“The choice is made,” the Daniels said in unison.

“Then we stand by the punishment meted out,” the Throne boomed.

The great light shuddered, and in the long moment of utter silence, Daniel wondered whether he had been right to come forward at all.

Then, at last: “But we will grant your request for mercy.”

“No!” Lucifer cried. “Heaven is not the only party wronged!”

“Quiet!”
The Throne’s voice grew louder as he spoke. He sounded tired, and pained, and less certain than Daniel had ever imagined possible. “If one day her soul comes into being without the weight of sacrament having chosen a side for her, then she shall be free to grow and choose for herself, to reenact this moment. To escape the ordained punishment. And in so doing, to put the final test to this love that you claim supersedes the rights of Heaven and family; her choice then will be your redemption or the final seal on your punishment. That is all that can be done.”

Daniel bowed down, and his past self bowed down beside him.

“I cannot abide this!” Lucifer bellowed. “They must never!
Never—
”

“It is done,” the Voice thundered, as if he had reached his capacity for mercy. “I will not tolerate those who would argue with me on this or any other matter. Begone, all of those who have chosen ill or not chosen at all. The Gates of Heaven are closed to you!”

Something flickered. The brightest light of all suddenly
went out
.

Heaven grew dark and deadly cold.

The angels gasped and shivered, huddling closer together.

Then: silence.

No one moved and no one spoke.

What happened next was unimaginable, even to Daniel, who had already witnessed the whole thing once before.

The sky beneath them shuddered and the white lake brimmed over, sending a fiery surge of steamy white water flooding over everything. The Orchard of Knowledge and the Grove of Life fell into each other, and all of Heaven shook as they shuddered to their deaths.

A silver lightning bolt cracked forth from the Throne and struck the west end of the Meadow. The cloudsoil boiled into blackness, and a pit of the darkest despair opened up like a sinkhole right under Lucifer. With all his impotent rage, he and the angels closest to him—vanished.

As for the angels who had yet to choose, they, too, lost their purchase on Heaven’s plains and slid into the abyss. Gabbe was one of them; Arriane and Cam, too, as well as the others dearest to his heart—collateral damage from Daniel’s choice. Even his past self, eyes wide, was swept toward the black hole in Heaven and vanished within.

Once again, Daniel could do nothing to stop it from happening.

He knew that a nine-day fugue of tumbling ever downward stood between the fallen and the moment they would reach Earth. Nine days he couldn’t afford to spend not finding her. He plunged toward the abyss.

At the edge of nothingness, Daniel looked down and saw a spot of brightness, farther away than the farthest thing imaginable. It was not an angel, but a beast with vast black wings darker than the night. And it was flying toward him, moving
upward
. How?

Daniel had just seen Lucifer at the Judgment up above. He’d fallen
first
and should be far below. Still, it could be no one else. Daniel’s vision focused sharply and his wings burned from shoot to tip when he realized that the beast was carrying someone tucked under his wing.

“Lucinda!”
he shouted, but the beast had already dropped her.

His whole world stopped.

Daniel did not see where Lucifer went after that because
he was diving across the sky toward Luce. The burning of her soul was so bright and so familiar. He shot forward, his wings clasped close to his body so that he fell faster than seemed possible, so fast that the world around him blurred. He reached out and—

She landed in his arms.

Immediately, his wings pulled forward, making a protective shield around her. She seemed startled at first, as if she’d just awakened from a terrible dream, and gazed deeply into his eyes, letting out all the air in her lungs. She touched his cheek, ran her fingers across the tingling ridges of his wings.

“At last.” He breathed into her, finding her lips.

“You found me,” she whispered.

“Always.”

Just below them, the mass of fallen angels lit up the sky like a thousand brilliant stars. They all seemed drawn together by the pull of some unseen force, clinging to one another during the long plunge from Heaven. It was tragic and awe-inspiring. For a moment, they all seemed to hum and burn with a beautiful perfection. As he and Luce watched, a bolt of black lightning darted across the sky and seemed to encircle the bright mass of the falling.

Then everything but Luce and Daniel grew absolutely dark. As if all of the angels, all at once, had tumbled through a pocket in the sky.

EPILOGUE

NO MORE BUT THIS

SAVANNAH, GEORGIA • NOVEMBER 27, 2009

I
t was the last Announcer Luce wanted to step through for a very long time. When Daniel stretched open the shadow cast by the inexplicable brightening of the stars in that strange, neverwhere sky, Luce did not look back. She held fast to his hand, overcome with relief. She was with Daniel now. Wherever they went would be home.

“Wait,” he said before she plunged inside the shadow.

“What is it?”

His lips traced her collarbone. She arched her back
and grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Their teeth clicked and his tongue found hers and as long as she could stay there like that, she didn’t need to breathe.

They left the distant past locked in the kiss—one so long awaited and so passionate it made everything else around Luce go fuzzy. It was a kiss most people dreamed of all their lives. Here was the soul Luce had been searching for ever since she left him in her parents’ backyard. And they were still together when Daniel swooped them out of the Announcer under the peaceful drifting of a silver cloud.

“More,” she said when at last he pulled away. They were so high up, Luce could see little of the ground below. A swath of moonlit ocean. Tiny white waves crashing against a darkened shore.

Daniel laughed and drew her close again. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling. His body felt so good against hers and his skin looked so spectacular under the light of the stars. The more they kissed, the more certain Luce was she’d never get enough. There was little difference—and yet all the difference in the world—between the Daniels she’d met when she visited her other lifetimes and the Daniel pressing his lips to hers now. Finally, Luce could return his kiss without doubting herself, or their love. She felt unbounded happiness. And to think, she had almost given this up.