Reckoning

CHAPTER TWO

Lorelei sighed as the commotion continued to escalate. She placed her hands flat atop the table, took a deep breath, and forced herself not to utter an incantation that would have called down lightning from the sky and permanently silenced the agitated citizens gathered in the meeting room of Aerie’s community center.

“People, please,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above their frenetic din. “We’ll get absolutely nothing accomplished here if we’re all talking at once.”

The citizens ignored her and continued their excited chatter, the volume within the low-ceilinged room intensifying. She remembered how easy it had seemed for Belphegor to preside over these meetings. All the ancient fallen angel had to do was stand up from his chair and clear his throat, and immediately they would all fall silent, awaiting his words with rapt attention. And that was just one of the things she missed about their leader.

Belphegor had been mortally injured during the Powers’ attack upon Aerie, in a violent duel with their commander, Verchiel. They had found him close to death, but Aaron Corbet had set him free from his shell of flesh and blood, forgiving him and all the others that had fallen in the devastating battle, allowing them to return to Heaven. Lorelei had been happy for them; it was what every one of the fallen inhabiting this place dreamed of, but Belphegor’s absence was felt each and every day.

“There’s been enough talk,” said a fallen angel named Atliel. He was standing up beside his metal folding chair, his single eye and badly burned face commanding the attention of those around him. The angel had been scarred in the battle with the Powers, but at least he had survived when so many others of the citizenry had not.

Lorelei looked about the room and was reminded of how many had been lost trying to defend Aerie from Verchiel’s soldiers. Not all of them died; Aaron had freed many fallen angels who had managed to hang on to a thread of life. Even still, their numbers had been cut easily by half, and that didn’t count those Nephilim who had been seriously injured. They were still trying to heal, the question of their survival nowhere near certain.

“We must act at once or suffer the fate of our brothers,” Atliel proclaimed, looking about the room, his scarred visage quieting the congregation far more effectively than had Lorelei’s raised voice.

“And what do you propose?” the Nephilim asked, rising from her chair as she’d seen Belphegor do in the past, hoping she could regain some control of the meeting. She knew many of the citizens were not happy that she, a Nephilim, a half-breed, had assumed control of the angelic settlement with their founder’s passing, but it had been Belphegor’s wish. His confidence in her ability to lead had always surpassed her own. Even though the fallen angels and the Nephilim lived together in relative harmony, there was still a certain amount of prejudice—especially when it came to the decisions that would govern the future of Aerie.

Atliel turned to fix her in the gaze of his good eye. It was obvious that he didn’t appreciate her interruption. “We must do what we have in the past when we’ve been threatened,” he answered, a hint of petulance in his voice. “Aerie must be relocated. We cannot chance another Powers attack.”

Lorelei watched the reactions of those before her. They were a mixture of shock, quiet acceptance, and complete despair. Aerie had been in many places throughout the millennia it had existed, moving from one secret location to the next as the Powers grew closer to finding them. To many of the sanctuary’s newer residents, the abandoned neighborhood of the Ravenschild Estates was the only true home they had ever known, and that she knew from personal experience.

“Don’t you think we’ve come too far for that?” she asked, stoking the fires of Atliel’s ire. “Do you think that Belphegor and all the other citizens who fell during the battle did so only that we could run and hide again? I seriously doubt it.”

Atliel gripped the edge of the chair in front of him, knuckles white with the force of his frustration. “Verchiel and his followers know where we are. They can return at any moment to finish what they started. Aerie must survive if we are ever to find forgiveness from our Father in Heaven. Nothing else matters.”

Lorelei moved out from behind the table. She knew they were afraid, but she couldn’t believe that they were so blinded by their fear that they didn’t see the signs of change that were upon them, changes that had begun soon after Aaron Corbet had arrived in Aerie.

“I believe the time you’ve been waiting for, the forgiveness you’ve been seeking, is upon us, Atliel,” she said, leaning back against the table edge and crossing her booted feet at the ankles.

“You’re referring to that Nephilim, Aaron Corbet,” the fallen angel responded, a sneer upon his damaged features.

“Yes,” she replied emphatically, “I am.”

Atliel slowly shook his head. “The savior of prophecy,” he grumbled, looking at those gathered around him. “I’m having great difficulty believing that—”

“You saw what he can do,” Lorelei cried, pushing away from the table to stress her point. “You saw what he did for Camael—what he did for Belphegor and all the others who fell in battle.”

“Yes, but—”

“He forgave them,” Lorelei continued over Atliel’s protest. She didn’t have the patience for his or any of the others’ doubts. Aaron Corbet was the One, and she wasn’t about to let a discordant voice among them detract from what was finally, after thousands and thousands of years, about to happen to them. “Aaron allowed them to return to Heaven, and I believe he’ll do the same for you.”

The room was suddenly quiet and Lorelei saw that all eyes were finally upon her. She was proud of herself for speaking out. The citizens of Aerie could no longer allow themselves to be governed by fear. These were new times ahead of them, and they needed a fresh perspective.

“And where is our savior?” Atliel posed his question to the room at large. “Was he not made aware of this gathering?”

“Yes, he was, but—”

It was Atliel’s turn to interrupt as a low buzz moved through the crowd. “He was aware, but he chose not to attend. Is that what you’re telling us, Lorelei? That the fate of our hopes and dreams is teetering on the edge of a precipice, and Aaron Corbet could not be bothered?”

“Look,” she began, exasperated—by Aaron’s unexplained absence, by Atliel’s persistent questioning, by her own lack of control. “All I’m saying is that we need to consider all our options before we turn tail and run. At least talk to Aaron, he might be able to give us—”

“And all I’m asking, Lorelei,” Atliel said, cutting her off again, “is for our savior to start acting like one and offer us some guidance.”

She didn’t know how to respond, choosing instead to say nothing, and in a matter of moments the commotion was on the rise again, voices of fallen angels and Nephilim alike, all speaking at once, clamoring to be heard.

Shit, Aaron thought, suddenly remembering the meeting at Aerie’s community center that he had promised Lorelei he would attend.

He was in the process of transporting Vilma, Gabriel, and himself back to their house in Aerie, traversing the void between here and there. It was one of the few angelic skills that he genuinely appreciated. All he had to do was picture in his mind the place he wished to be, wrap himself within his wings, and in a matter of seconds he was there. In this particular instant, though, he was forced to change his mind mid-trip, and he opened his wings to emerge on the street in front of the community center.

“I’m really sorry about this,” he apologized to his traveling companions as his wings receded beneath the flesh of his back. “I just remembered that I promised Lorelei I’d go to the community meeting today and…”

Vilma smiled weakly, and he couldn’t get over how tired she looked. “That’s okay,” she said. “I think I need to lie down anyway. I’m still feeling pretty exhausted.”

Aaron glanced over at the entrance to the community center and caught Lehash sitting out front, watching them. The fallen angel in charge of Aerie’s security tipped his cowboy hat in greeting, looking every inch as though he’d just walked out of an old spaghetti Western. Aaron smiled and waved briefly before turning his attention back to Vilma.

“Gabriel will go with you,” he told the girl.

She reached down and scratched the top of the Lab’s bony head. “Is that what you want to do, Gabe?” she asked him in the language of dogs.

“Will you give me breakfast?”

“Of course I will,” she assured him.

“Then let’s go,” Gabriel said, already beginning to walk in the direction of the house where they were staying. “I’m starving.”

Vilma laughed, then paused to look back at Aaron.

“I’ll see you later?” she asked, and he could hear the sadness permeating her voice.

It just about broke his heart. But it won’t last forever, he tried to reassure himself. He stepped toward her and put his arms tentatively around her. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered in her ear, squeezing her tightly.

Vilma hugged him back, but said nothing to prove that she believed in what he had told her.

“C’mon, Vilma. Let’s go,” Gabriel called, his tail wagging eagerly as he urged her to follow.

She was the first to break the embrace, looking deeply into Aaron’s eyes and forcing a smile before turning to join the dog.

It’s an enormous adjustment, he told himself, watching as she walked away from him. She just needs time. He could sense the angelic essence inside her becoming stronger, and prayed for an easy merger. Hopefully it wouldn’t take much longer for the process to complete itself.

Aaron turned and jogged toward the community center. “Lorelei is going to kill me,” he said to the fallen angel that just happened to be her father.

Lehash had tipped his chair back on two legs and was leaning against the building’s wall. “Not sure you want to be going in there right now,” he said in the drawl of the Old West. “Folks are a mite riled up at the moment. Lorelei’s attempting to calm ‘em down.”

“What are they upset about?”

“You,” Lehash answered, lowering his chair legs to the ground.

“Me?” Aaron asked incredulously.

The fallen angel nodded. “Yep. They’re worried that yer not taking the job of savior seriously enough.” The angel gunslinger tilted back the brim of his hat and looked into Aaron’s eyes. “They want to know why you haven’t got around to savin’ them yet.”

“Son of a bitch,” Aaron hissed as he grabbed hold of the handle and flung the door wide.

“What’re you gonna do?” he heard Lehash call after him as he stormed inside.

“I’m going to have a little talk with the citizens of Aerie.”

Lehash guffawed, his chair sliding across the ground as he abruptly stood, following the Nephilim into the building.

“This I gotta see,” Aaron heard the angel say.

Aaron entered the meeting room through a door at the back and immediately felt as though he was in the midst of one of those bizarre go-to-school-naked dreams. He had heard them carrying on as he approached, each trying to be heard above the other and Lorelei shouting for order.

And they did quiet down, but only because they saw that he had arrived.

Every head swiveled in his direction, and every eye watched as he strode down the aisle to join Lorelei at the front. He didn’t make eye contact with any of them, but could sense their hostility and their frustration. The feelings were mutual.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly to Lorelei as she stepped aside to allow him her space.

He faced the crowded room. Lehash was standing at the back, arms folded, leaning against the wall, a sly smile on his haggard features. They were all there—Nephilim and fallen angels both. And why shouldn’t they be? The citizens of Aerie were concerned about their future, a future in which Aaron played a large part. It was a heavy responsibility, and he felt as though he was beginning to buckle beneath its tremendous weight. He was doing the best he could, but sometimes it just didn’t seem to be enough.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said again to the room at large.

But before he could continue, Atliel interrupted. “Aerie must be relocated,” he declared, his single eye staring intensely. “We cannot risk any more lives. The dream of Aerie must survive, and it cannot if we stay here.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about Verchiel right now,” Aaron tried to reassure the citizens. “He suffered casualties even greater than ours, thanks to Lorelei here. I believe we’re safe for now.” He looked to Lorelei for support, and saw that she was nodding in agreement.

“You believe we’re safe?” Atliel said pointing a long finger at him.

Aaron cringed. He didn’t want this to turn into an argument. He had wanted to come in, tell them what he had planned for their future, and then spend the remainder of the day with Vilma. “Yes, I do.”

The angel’s expression turned to one of complete revulsion. “What right have you to tell us we’ll be safe, when you know very well what Verchiel is capable of?”

He felt his heart rate quicken, his blood beginning to rush through his veins. He forced himself to stay calm. It was a democracy here in Aerie, and the citizens had every right to speak their minds.

“He killed your parents,” Atliel snarled. “Turned your little brother into a monster. Killed your mentor and used your woman as bait to lure you to your death.”

Aaron knew all this. It was with him every day, a constant reminder of how much his life had changed—of what his destiny as a savior had taken from him.

“Verchiel is an unpredictable force,” Atliel continued. “All of us have feared his wrath since our fall from Heaven. Do not tell me that we’re safe. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Aaron’s anger was growing and he felt the power of his angelic heritage course through his blood and muscle, enflaming the very essence of his being. “I’m doing my best,” he said through gritted teeth. He saw that Lehash had moved away from the wall and was approaching the front. The warrior angel obviously suspected that something was about to happen, and he couldn’t have been more right.

“We of Aerie expect more from our savior than his best.” And with those words, Atliel spread his wings, as did some others in the community center, and they began to flap gently in unison, the close confines of the meeting space filled with the sound of feathered wings striking the air. They did it to show their displeasure, to show their doubt that Aaron was capable of fulfilling the prophecy.

The sigils rose to the surface of his skin and Aaron knew that he could hold back his anger no longer. He let out a cry of rage as his ebony wings exploded from his back, and he too began to beat the air, harder, singularly drowning out the sounds of the others. He watched the expressions of shock and surprise spread across the faces of the citizens as he revealed to them the shape of their redeemer. His mighty wings continued to flap, forcing them back, tipping over their chairs and creating a mini-maelstrom of dust and dirt.

And as abruptly as he had started, he stopped, furling his appendages at his back and glaring at them all.

“Why don’t you people just cut me some slack?” His voice rumbled like the growl of a dangerous, jungle beast, filled with the potential for violence. “Do you seriously believe that I understand what it means to be a savior? Well, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t have a clue.”

Fallen angels and Nephilim alike were silent. Even Atliel had decided that it might be best to hold his tongue. Lehash stood nearby and Aaron could see sparks of golden fire dancing around his hands, the gunslinger ready to call forth his pistols of heavenly flame if necessary.

“All I’m asking is for you to give me a break. I know that you’re scared—I’m scared too—but it isn’t going to do anybody any good to come after me for not living up to your expectations.”

Aaron made eye contact with them and they each looked away, accepting his position as top dog.

“I have no idea what tomorrow holds for me or for you. But I do know that to guarantee any future at all, we have to work together. We can’t run from Verchiel; we have to deal with him.” He let his wings recede beneath his flesh as the sigils began to fade.

“And that’s exactly what I intend to do,” he declared with finality as he strode from the room.

“Meeting adjourned.”