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Qualia Page 20


  I didn’t want to dwell on what this would look like after the Host had trampled it underfoot. As we ran through the book district Keril suddenly stopped, his long ears twitching. ‘You go on.’ He darted off down a small alley. ‘I’ll catch up.’

  It didn’t take long, his claws made running on the cobbled streets far easier for him that for any of us with our boots that slipped and slid, threatening to break an ankle at any moment. I heard him bring up the rear and, glancing over my shoulder, was surprised to see that he carried a small child in his arms. The child was filthy, tear stained and hanging on to the panting demon with fingers that were leaving dents in his scales. Having no breath for questions I turned my eyes back to my troubled footing and carried on running.

  The sounds from beyond the wall became louder and clearer. The very beat spurred us all on to greater exertion – even Parity had finally quit grinning and was running hard alongside her brother. Our feet beat an alternative tempo to those thousands hitting the sand in unison just beyond the great oak gates. Great clouds of dust obscured the weak sun.

  We arrived out of breath and rather wide eyed at the very heart of the city in a wave of heaving chests and dripping backs. Standing beside the fountain Belial raised his eyebrows at our appearance then, nodding to Carly, raised his arms above his head. With a single word the big black stone in the centre of the pool split with a crack that echoed around the empty buildings. Iron-work tendrils hastily scrabbled to break free of the stone, pushing it aside. The creeping metalwork crumbled chunks to dust as it surged upward like a tree root through concrete. Twisting and writhing, the tendrils wound themselves into a metal depiction of desolate, winter-stripped trees, their branches, trunks and roots linking to form a huge gate. Pitted with rust, the hot metal steamed in the centre of the pool as the rapidly evaporating water hissed clouds of vapour into the air.

  Off to one side two smaller, simpler gates stood open. One by one, those who had been working on the city’s defences filed through to disappear into the shimmering void beyond. Eventually, all that were left was Gallard and his apprentice Gart, a skinny young Drekavak, who was still sporting fur in various places through his newly grown scales. Gallard turned to him and gave him a gentle push toward the gate. ‘Go on.’ He smiled. ‘Go with the others – I’ll meet you on the other side.’ He gave the young demon another gentle push. ‘Go on.’

  Gart hesitated, twisting his paws in small circles in front of his stomach. ‘But what if …’ His voice was much higher than Gallard’s gruff rumble, giving him a certain whining tone.

  ‘What if … What if?’ Gallard gave a huge roar of laughter. ‘If we stand here discussing what ifs, we’ll never get away.’ He gave the youngster another, firmer push. ‘Go.’

  Gart sighed and, with a final look at his mentor, stepped through the gate. Gallard stared after him for a long moment then turned to Belial. ‘You’d better go as well.’ He pricked up his long ears. ‘Any time now they’ll be getting those bloody horns out and starting a Jericho on us.’

  Belial looked troubled. ‘I don’t like leaving you here alone.’ He reached out a hand. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, old friend.’

  Gallard threw back his head and gave a howl of laughter then, shaking Belial’s hand strongly, he pulled the surprised steward of Hell into a bear hug. ‘Well, if I don’t it’s going to be the shortest last stand ever.’ Then, as with Gart, he turned Belial toward the steaming black gate and gave him a little push. ‘You’ve got your own problems from here on. If there’s any justice, we’ll see each other again soon.’

  Melusine, standing with a sagging Lucifer at her side, hoisted him higher with the arm he had around her neck. ‘Look,’ she gasped. ‘I really hate to be the party pooper but this guy is heavy – can we get on, please?’ She dragged him up by his wrist again.

  The man draped around her neck raised his head and stared at the gate for a moment then he looked over at Belial. ‘Home?’ he asked. Then, as he passed out again, his knees buckled completely and Melusine, irritated, dropped him unceremoniously into the sand.

  ‘Great,’ Keril muttered and, handing the child to Carly, picked up the unconscious Lord of Hell. He looked as though he’d picked up something toxic.

  Silence fell, then a moment later an eerie wail began, softly at first but gathering tone and intensity. The ground shook beneath our feet and sand started to trickle from the cracks between bricks. The hooting, screaming cry sounded like a million children all screaming at different pitches. My teeth began to ache and I wanted to vomit. Ceramic flowerpots fell from a nearby wall, exploding as they hit the ground, strewing dirt and bright blue flowers at our feet. The gate in front of us shuddered, flakes of rust fluttering to the ground.

  ‘Shit! We have to go – now!’ Belial raised his arms and began a tongue-twisting and guttural recitation. Slowly, so slowly, the gate started to open, creaking and groaning in protest with every single inch.

  With a thunderous roar, the cloud of dust above us thickened and blocked out the weak sun completely. The choking dust began to fall and around us buildings started to disappear into the thick, gritty fog. In the gathering dark the sounds of wings almost blocked out the wailing of the horns.

  Parity turned toward the dust cloud. Her eyes rolled back into her head, the whites showing a surprisingly large number of tiny red veins. ‘They’re in.’ Shaking her head and blinking, she threw her backpack onto her shoulder and linked arms with her brother who nodded slowly.

  Belial, breathing heavily, dropped his arms as the gate finally opened enough to allow access and grabbing Carly pushed her through. ‘Come on!’ he shouted.

  Keril, carrying Lucifer, went next, closely followed by Parity and Farr. I stared in horror at the angels that had appeared out of the fog to hover all around us. In ranks they stood in the air as though on invisible plinths then, at a shout, each drew a sword which was sheathed in flame. The light and heat from each burned through both my courage and my resolve.

  I took a quick look round. I really hoped I’d be able to walk these streets again one day.

  ‘Joe!’ Carly screamed, sticking her head through the now closing gate. ‘Joe – come on!’

  I stared at her for a moment then back at the angels. Angels had been my life for a very long time and I was torn between running back to them for protection or plunging into the unknown with a group of “bad guys”. A little voice kept telling me I was making a horrible mistake.

  ‘Joe, you stinking, putrid pile of dog shit!’ Michael’s voice roared above the sound of crashing masonry. ‘I told him you were a liar. I told him you were a traitor.’

  Well, that certainly helped me come to a decision. Michael raged on. However I felt about them, obviously the angels didn’t feel the same way about me. With a final salute to Gallard who was crouched behind a wall, a large black box in his paw, and a much ruder final salute to Michael, I ran for the gate. I only made it through by sneaking sideways and pulling in my gut. I grinned as the final clang of its closure was slightly muted by Michael’s scream of rage.

  ‘Run!’ Belial looked around the vast entrance hall. The walls – damp stone for the most part – showed small patches of dirty mosaic sickly spotting the walls. In the dim light it was almost impossible to tell what it had originally depicted, but it looked very much like lines and lines of people all wearing chains. As the group raced off into the dark I hung back, curious. Hidden behind what had once been an elegantly carved pillar, I peered out through the thick, pale ivy that had grown up and around it. If Gallard failed, those angels were going to come through here like a swarm of bees. Well, at least they’d have to get past me. I drew the knife from between my shoulder blades and slipped on both knuckle-dusters. Holding the knife was now a little difficult but at least the weapons made me feel better. I might actually slow one or two of them down.

  Michael gripped the long black bars and rattled the gates, screaming into the dark through which his quarry had now mostly dis
appeared.

  ‘Sir.’ Another angel approached and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Sir.’

  Michael whipped around and casually punched him in the face before turning back to the gate.

  Raphael carefully stepped over the angel as it was spitting blood and teeth out onto the sand. ‘Michael.’ The tall blond was eating a custard doughnut and grinning as he covered himself in sugar. ‘Michael!’ He wiped the last of the confectionary from his lips. With a grin he ducked under Michael’s raised arm then turned and stood up within the circle of the raging angel’s arms as he rattled the bars of the gate. ‘Hey!’ Raphael brought his face to within a few centimetres of Michael’s and smiled. ‘This really isn’t getting anything done, is it?’

  Michael dropped his arms, chest heaving and stared at his smiling friend. ‘But Raph …’

  ‘Nah ah!’ Raphael waggled a finger in Michael’s face. ‘Our orders were: get into Hell and flush out everybody, kill everything and drag Graham what’s-his-face back to see Metatron.’ He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bag of marshmallows. ‘I don’t recall anything being said about screaming like a banshee, frothing at the mouth, behaving like a lunatic or punching out your own troops.’ He pulled the bag open and took out two pink and squashy sweets. ‘Want one?’ He popped one into his mouth and offered another to Michael who stared at it as though it were poisonous. ‘No?’

  Michael stepped around Raphael and leant his forehead on the bars of the gate. After a couple of seconds he turned to face the massed angels that were hovering in glittering ranks all the way back to the ruined walls. He raised a hand then brought it down. One by one each battalion stepped elegantly out of the air to stand around him in a huge fan. Blazing swords were sheathed and silence fell as Michael considered his next move.

  ‘Report!’ he bellowed. After a couple of seconds five angels who had been flitting around the buildings had arranged themselves in front of him. ‘So what’s the situation?’ he asked.

  The angels shuffled then one stepped forward. ‘It’s deserted. There’s nothing here – everything has gone.’

  Michael screamed again, his face puce, pulsing veins a map across his temples. Dragging his sword into being, he sent molten fireballs bouncing and careering from every wall. Before him angels ducked and threw themselves out of the way.

  Breathing hard, Michael waited until order had been restored then he spoke in a quiet dangerous tone. ‘You’re incompetent and you’re wrong.’ He stared at the angel who had given him the report. ‘They’re just hiding and we are going to find them and kill every single abomination.’

  Silence fell. The ranks looked at one another then down at the ground.

  Careful not to be seen, I peered around the corner wondering what Gallard was waiting for. He was unfortunately in full view, the huge hand of a tall dark-skinned angel wrapped around his upper arm

  ‘Sir!’ It shouted as it dragged the struggling Drekavak to the front of the Host. ‘Look.’

  ‘Deserted, eh?’ Michael spat viciously into the dust.

  The scout who had spoken shook his head and took a nervous step back.

  God’s commander turned toward the grinning demon. ‘What are you laughing at, shitface?’ he bellowed.

  Gallard’s smile got wider and he relaxed into his guard’s grip. ‘Nice weather, eh?’ He laughed and then pressed the button he was holding.

  Michael looked confused as it began to rain. The first few drops helped to lay the dust to rest. It didn’t take long before it became a deluge.

  Water cascaded from roofs and spat from every building; it jetted out from windows and doors soaking all those that stood around. Mouths open as they looked heavenward.

  For a short while there was shocked silence then the screaming began. Each drop opened skin and burnt flesh. Within seconds the Host had broken. Some ran, some tried to fly, taking off with a panicked flurry of wings only to crash down among the buildings melting, smoking and sobbing.

  Raphael, obviously a lot quicker than he looked, clutched Michael at the first scream and pulled him back under the huge stone lintel that overhung the great gate. They stood together, open mouthed, bleeding from shallow gouges, watching as the Host screamed, split, bled and wept. One by one angels hit the floor and failed to rise again. Through all the devastation Gallard danced in the rain, his mouth open, his big clawed feet splashing in the muddy puddles. He laughed with delight at the damage he had caused.

  I felt sick. Backing from the gate I stared as the city became littered with crawling, pleading and dying angels. Raphael, hearing me move, looked around and through the gate. We stared at each other for a moment then he smiled through the tears that coursed down his beautiful face. Turning back he returned to comforting Michael whose screams of outrage and bewilderment almost outdid those of the dying.

  Something touched my elbow. I jumped and tried to pull away.

  ‘It’s me, you idiot.’ Keril’s face appeared out of the gloom. ‘What the hell are you doing? Come on, Carly’s almost beside herself.’

  Dragging me with him he turned and began walking purposefully away from the gate.

  ‘Keril?’

  ‘What?’ He obviously wasn’t in the mood for a chat.

  ‘What did Gallard do?’ The sounds of screaming angels still echoed down the tunnel.

  ‘I’ll explain later to everybody.’ He lengthened his stride and, without pause, headed back toward the group.

  ‘Keril?’

  He sighed. ‘What now?’

  ‘I’m sorry I stabbed your sister.’ I really needed him to know that.

  He looked back over his shoulder and stared at me. ‘You’ve already said that.’

  The silence stretched on. I just waited.

  Eventually he sighed and gave a single curt nod then, increasing his grip on my arm he pulled me into the darkness and away from the dying creatures of the light.

  About 20 minutes later we caught up with a rather nervous party of travellers who had stopped to take stock. They were all sitting on fallen blocks of stone or collapsed statues. Belial was studying Lucifer who was still unconscious. Parity and Farr were playing a complicated-looking game; Parity slapped cards down onto a pile, laughing at her brother’s rueful expression. She looked up as we approached. ‘A rain of angels,’ she giggled, ‘and here’s me without an umbrella.’ She went back to her game.

  Carly jumped up from where she and Melusine were talking to the little girl and walked over. For a moment she just stared at me, then after giving me a perfunctory hug reached up and gave my ear a vicious twist.

  I screamed but didn’t stop her. She’d obviously been worried so, just to make sure she knew I was sorry, I screamed again and added a little whimper for good measure. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ I yelped through gritted teeth.

  Mollified, Carly let go of my ear and gave me another hug. Melusine, sitting with the child on her lap, just laughed. ‘I like a man who knows when to grovel.’ She went back to wiping the child’s face. ‘Hey, there you are.’ She smiled. ‘I knew there was a little girl under all that dirt.’

  The child stared at her for a moment then, clambering down from her lap, wandered away to study the mosaics.

  ‘I have such a way with children.’ Melusine sighed and threw the tissue onto the ground. ‘She must be able to sense my mothering instincts.’

  ‘What’s all the screaming about?’ Belial sat down on a block of stone next to the grinning dragon.

  ‘Just Joe getting his arse kicked.’ Melusine picked up the discarded tissue and placed it carefully into her backpack then, looking down at the dust marks on her immaculate khaki trousers, she raised a lip. ‘I love camping trips with you, Belial.’

  He snorted a laugh and then turned to face me. ‘Parity told us what was going on.’ He glanced back up the passage toward the gate. ‘What did you see?’

  I slumped down onto another fallen block of stone, not sure how I felt about what I’d just witnessed. ‘It rained ac
id and they fell out of the sky.’

  ‘Not acid.’ Keril had come up behind us.

  Belial raised an eyebrow. ‘So what was it?’

  Keril looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Qeres.’

  Belial gave a low whistle. ‘Where the hell did Gallard get that stuff from?’

  I was confused. ‘What’s qeres?’

  ‘Perfume,’ Belial said. ‘It was developed by Egyptian embalmers and was called “The first breath of the afterlife” or some such idiocy.’ He shrugged. ‘Somehow they found out that while angels were in mortal form it could kill them.’

  ‘And under what set of bizarre circumstances would you find that out?’ I asked.

  Belial shrugged. ‘I don’t even want to guess.’

  ‘When our world died, we knew the angels were coming. Gallard got it from Egypt where it was developed,’ Keril explained. ‘The plan was to find out how it worked, change it so that it would work on the angelic form and use it. But they turned up so fast he just stored it and ran with the rest of us. He’s been working on it ever since.’ The tall Drekavak fumbled in a bag and brought out a bottle of water from which he took a long drink. ‘Gallard always said he would get his revenge.’ He looked over at me ‘Was he all right? Did he get away?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I had to smile at the memory of Gallard dancing and giggling in the deluge of perfume. ‘He seemed very happy – he was dancing in the rain but it didn’t seem to affect him at all.’

  Keril snorted a laugh. ‘Nope, it only affects the Host. Gallard changed it to hurt angels, whatever form they were in but he was very careful to make sure it wouldn’t affect any other species.’

  Belial frowned. ‘Will it kill them?’

  It was easy to forget that, as one of the fallen, Belial had once been part of the Host. This was the death of his family we were discussing so casually.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Having finished his drink, Keril waved the bottle at the little girl and, with a hopeful look, she came hopping over. ‘We had one tiny vial of real qeres but Gallard has always been irritated that he couldn’t change it into what he wanted. That stuff he used in the water supply will seriously incapacitate them but they shouldn’t actually cease to exist. It’ll take them a while to pull themselves together but they’ll be all right eventually.’