Valiant Light, page 18
“No, it wasn’t. And because I have trained with a summoner, I can say that.” Riley drew a deep breath, gaining time to order her thoughts. The fact that they were laying out all her sins was suspicious, and it made her even more cautious. “The Holy Water was blessed the night before I met the demon. Isra could cross it, which meant he was what he claimed to be: a demon who’d broken Lucifer’s chains.”
“That is not possible,” Richter said, shaking his head.
“I wouldn’t have thought it was either, but I saw the proof. When the Retriever came to the school, Isra refused to let me fight it. He did not want his students harmed. Instead, he walked up to that huge-assed demon and surrendered.”
“Hellspawn serve only the Prince,” Bishop Prager insisted. “They have no morals. They are of the Darkness.”
“This one wasn’t. By surrendering, Isra faced eternal torture. I saw what that meant when I was down there. Sartael was in chains that never stopped moving. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. They cut into his skin every second of every day. Forever. That’s only one of Lucifer’s many torments.” The thought of Isra in those chains made her heart ache.
“Perhaps he has already had this demon executed,” Prager said.
“Not his style,” Beck cut in. “He’s all about keepin’ his power. He’ll make an example out of this one so the others don’t get any bright ideas.”
Riley nodded. “Exactly. After Sartael’s mutiny, Lucifer purged Hell. Any form of rebellion makes him livid, and even more paranoid.”
“Demons are not redeemable,” Richter insisted.
“Why not?”
“They cannot be. They are made of the Darkness.”
At her hesitation, Beck shot her a concerned look. Did she dare go there?
“And where did that Darkness come from?” Riley asked. “Who created it in the first place?”
“What do you mean?” the cardinal asked.
“In Sunday school I was taught that God created everything. He certainly created the angels, one of which is Lucifer. Except Lucifer gets it in his head that he’s bigger than his boss, and then is thrown out of Heaven. He takes along a bunch of his buddies and sets up his own little kingdom in Hell.”
The cardinal’s face registered his displeasure at her rather glib overview of celestial history.
“Because the Prince doesn’t have his own soldiers, he creates demons. But where does he get the power of creation?”
Alvarez blinked, while Prager just frowned.
“I’m sure you’re going to tell us,” Richter replied acidly.
She leaned forward in her chair. “Lucifer, for all his cunning, is just an angel, God’s flunky. Now I know that sounds like I’m minimizing his threat, and I’m not. He’s incredibly evil, a nasty piece of work.” She sucked in a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake.
“But . . . he’s still alive only because he’s allowed to exist. If I were God, I would have killed him out a long time ago. However, if I’ve learned anything in the last year, Heaven’s actions don’t always make sense. At least in the short run, like my lifespan. Over millennia? Yes. It’s a very long game for them.”
“And?” Richter said, his tone telling her he was reaching the end of his patience.
“My guess is that Lucifer is still alive because we mortals need choices, that free will everyone keeps crowing about. We can walk toward the Light or embrace the Darkness. Or both, sometimes.” She’d been there herself.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Alvarez argued.
“Actually, it does,” Riley said. “Adam and Eve were fine in the garden; then God tells them not to eat from one particular tree. Why did He do that? Would they have even noticed that tree if not for Him? No, that was the first test of free will. God set them up—follow His laws, or take a taste of the forbidden. We all know how that turned out.”
“Your point?” the cardinal demanded, glowering.
Riley circled back to her original argument. “My point is, Lucifer can only create demons because he is allowed that power by God. That means some portion of those demons have a connection to Heaven.”
Richter stared at her now. “I never thought I’d hear a demon trapper say such a thing.”
“I’ll agree, it’s a really weird idea, and I know firsthand how evil Hellspawn can truly be. But if a demon has any bit of Light inside them, why can’t he or she want to be free of the Prince?” She paused. “Why can’t they want to do good instead of evil? Because if we mortals have been given that choice, why not them? Why is it just about us?”
Alvarez muttered something in Spanish under his breath. It didn’t sound like agreement.
“That is outlandish,” Prager said.
“Perhaps. Still, I saw something in that Four’s eyes that told me he didn’t want to be Lucifer’s any longer. Isra sacrificed himself to save those kids. Isn’t that what you guys are always talking about? Sacrifice?”
“Not for those in Lucifer’s army,” Richter said primly.
“My dad’s soul was the Prince’s once, but he sacrificed himself to save us from Sartael. He paid his debt, and he’s with my mom in Heaven now. If it could happen to him, why not a demon?”
There was another quiet, but tense, conversation between all the clerics, held at just a low enough level that Riley couldn’t pick out one word.
Father Rosetti gently touched her shoulder and she nearly jumped. She turned around, wondering what he thought of all this.
“Interesting theological premise. It probably won’t pass muster, but I enjoyed hearing it anyway.”
At least she’d amused one of the Vatican’s folks. “The idea certainly surprised me when I first figured out what was going on.”
Simon didn’t comment, his face pensive.
Riley turned back to the front, her sense of unease growing. This recap of her sins was wasting time. She was just about to suggest that they move on when the men ended their conversation.
Richter was the face she zeroed in on, and she knew she hadn’t made her case.
“We have discussed your positions regarding Heaven and Hell and find them unorthodox, if not bordering on blasphemy. Because of those positions, we do not feel you will be of any further assistance to us.”
Beside her, Beck uttered a muffled swear word. Riley was about to argue with the decision when he laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t bother.”
Riley ground her teeth instead.
“We’ll make arrangements so you may depart in the morning,” Richter said, gathering up his notes.
“What are you going to do about the cities?”
The cardinal stared a hole into her, the seconds ticking down. “What we’ve always done—pray,” he said, then left the room, the bishops in tow.
Rosetti sighed deeply as he walked in front of their table, his eyes on the far door. “I’m sorry they weren’t willing to listen.”
“Not your fault. They asked the hard questions and they weren’t ready to hear the answers.”
“That is often the case.”
Simon crouched down next to her chair. How was he going to react to the news about her and Ori?
“Don’t worry, I certainly won’t throw the first stone,” he said. “I’m not that much of a hypocrite.”
“Thanks,” she replied, relieved.
“I’ve always divided everything into Good versus Evil, which is why it was so easy for Sartael to play with my head,” he admitted. “I’m not sure if I accept that demons can be good, but I saw that Four give himself up to protect those students. If he could do that, why couldn’t he fight against Lucifer, not for power, but for freedom?”
“I like the notion,” Beck said. “Mostly because it’s the Prince’s worst nightmare.”
“Yes, it is.” Simon stood. “I need to get going. I have a meeting with some of the students in the latest exorcism class.” He glanced over at Rosetti. “Someone wants me to tell them exactly what it’s like.”
Riley whistled. “That oughta be fun.”
“We’ll see how many are still in the class when I get done.” He bent down and gave Riley a quick embrace, then shook Beck’s hand. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
As the priest and Simon left, there was a gentle clearing of a throat behind them. She’d forgotten Albero was still here.
“Would you like to return to your room?” he asked, rising from his chair.
Riley needed time alone to sort through everything that had happened tonight. “Do you have a garden here? Somewhere quiet?”
“Yes, we do. It is very restful. I will see that you are escorted there.”
“While yer doin’ that, I need to call Scotland,” Beck said. “Trevor needs to know what happened tonight.”
Riley shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know what else I could have told them. I wouldn’t lie about Isra.”
“I know. You did what you had to do.”
Then why do I feel like I failed?
Chapter Sixteen
Beck’s call to Trevor took longer than he’d expected, mostly because the senior grand master wanted every single detail. After he’d had laid out Riley’s argument regarding the Unbound demons, there was a lengthy silence on the other end of the line. It grew so noticeable that Beck checked the cell phone’s display, just in case he’d been cut off.
Trevor finally spoke. “Ya have ta respect a lassie who’s willin’ to stand up ta a cardinal while inside those walls. Especially one like Richter.”
“What I don’t understand is why we’re rehashin’ stuff they’ve known for months. Well, except for the Isra thing. Why not get on with it?”
“They’re not known for movin’ fast. Usually they don’t need ta. What’s goin’ on has shaken the foundations of the Church. My guess is that they were ensurin’ Riley was completely above board before they asked for her help.”
“Yeah, well, she didn’t pass muster. I’m not too upset about that, to be honest.”
“Aye. Let me know when yer boardin’ the plane. I’ll make sure someone is at the airport ta pick ya up.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“’Night, lad. Stay strong.”
“We got no other choice.”
*~*~*
After delivering Beck to his room, Albero had arranged for Riley to be driven to the Vatican Gardens, a sizable green space on the western side of the enclave. Curiously, she’d rated a young Swiss Guard as her escort this time. His uniform was the dead opposite of camo, with wide stripes of blue, red, orange, and yellow, which made him look like a garishly plumed bird. Despite that, the way he held himself and the focused intensity with which he watched over her said she was in safe hands. The Vatican might not know what to do with Blackthorne’s daughter, but they certainly wouldn’t allow any harm to befall her. At least, not unless it was their plan to inflict that harm.
After wandering around for a time, keenly aware that the guard was about thirty or so feet behind her, Riley finally chose a stone bench. It sat near a series of sculptured hedges, which filled the night air with a woodsy scent. The temperature was dropping, and she regretted not bringing a coat or sweater.
Closing her eyes, she laid her hands in her lap. Perhaps this quiet place could help calm all the chattering inside her mind. It was both distracting and annoying, as well as a promise that she wouldn’t sleep well tonight if she didn’t shut it down.
When just sitting quietly didn’t do the trick, Riley turned to a meditation technique Ayden had taught her. This one required her to create a brilliant sphere of golden light and have it float lightly in front of her. She’d usually vary the size of the sphere, or the density of it, efforts that made her focus her thoughts and shut down the mental noise.
But doing magic here, thumbing her nose at the Church? No, this was their patch of ground, their rules. Instead, Riley visualized that glowing sphere inside her head and let it float around, clearing out the confusing thoughts. As she did, her heartrate dropped and her mind began to clear.
She went further into the meditation now, allowing the peace to engulf her. In this state, she thought she could feel the planet’s rotation, the movement of the winds and the oceans. When she’d said something about that to Ayden, her friend had given her a raised eyebrow and a “go figure.”
Once her mind felt less chaotic, she replayed the meeting, word by word, expression by expression. Richter had been just as worried at the end of the meeting as in the beginning. That he didn’t trust her to help them didn’t make much sense. She’d assisted Simon in conducting exorcisms—had proven to be a valuable ally during those encounters.
No, she’d crossed the line with Isra, and there was no way they were going to accept that. Riley sighed in frustration. At least it hadn’t been a totally wasted trip—she and Beck had gotten to visit Rome and see the basilica. That was worth something.
Now, as she sat in this garden, hearing the faint street sounds outside the Vatican’s walls, she knew something was fundamentally wrong. Beck had said as much, and only now did she feel the same.
On impulse, she tested the edges of that wrongness, and to her surprise, it pushed back. It wasn’t Darkness, like Hell, or Light, like Heaven’s angels. Something in between. As she pushed harder, trying to understand whatever this was, the wrongness vanished like a sea fog in a strong breeze.
Only a few heartbeats later, her breath tightened, each inhalation growing more labored. A panic attack. Riley hadn’t had one of those in months, not since Ayden had taught her how to head them off before they went too far. But this time, nothing she did seemed to help. Her body began to tremble and she bent over at the waist, sucking in each breath with increasing difficulty. Each inhalation caused a harsh wheezing sound. Her vision tunneled. She tried to move, to call out to the guard, but was unable to form words.
Just as she was about to black out, the tightness in her chest was gone, as if it’d never been there in the first place. Surprised, Riley sat up, took a deep breath, and found no restriction. The roaring in her ears was gone as well. With each subsequent breath, her heartbeat decreased to normal.
“What the heck was that?” she murmured. In such a deep and relaxed state, it should have been impossible to trigger a reaction.
Riley remained on the bench for a few minutes more, as the sweat on her forehead chilled in the night air. The attack had come after she’d explored that sensation of wrongness. Whatever it was had poked back. Shaking her head in confusion, she rose and wound her way past the flowerbeds until she found the guard standing patiently where she’d last seen him.
“Grazie,” she said.
He nodded, and when they reached the car, he drove her back to the building where she and Beck were staying. As she’d anticipated, Albero waited for her by a side door—how he knew when she’d be arriving wasn’t apparent. After exchanging a few words with her guard, he followed Riley to her room.
“Did you enjoy the gardens?” He sounded genuinely interested.
“Yes. I found peace there.” At least until I couldn’t breathe.
After reminding her that breakfast would be delivered at seven in the morning, Albero left her at her door. She texted Beck as she entered her room so he knew she was back. He joined her a few minutes later, just after she’d brushed her teeth and gotten into her nightclothes.
As she opened the door, he looked her over with concern. “Early night?” She nodded. “Jet lag kickin’ yer butt?”
“That and whatever’s going on here. Too many questions, not enough answers. That always tires me out.” She climbed into the bed, deciding not to tell him what had happened in the garden. He had enough worries right now.
“Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?” she asked.
“Sure.”
They curled up in bed together, him fully clothed except for his shoes, which he’d kicked off. Riley snuggled against his chest, inhaling the reassuring scent that was her fiancé.
“So, tell me more about this weddin’ we’re havin’,” he said in her ear. He did this every now and then. At first, she couldn’t figure out why he was having her repeat the same information, but then she realized it was his way of reassuring himself that it was really going to happen.
As she explained how Angus’s back garden would be set up, where he’d stand, where she’d be, the types of flowers that would be blooming, she could feel him relax. And in the act of telling him all this, she relaxed as well.
Now, as she drifted off to sleep, she felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Some people tossed around the words soul mate far too easily. In their case, she knew it was true. Two hearts joined together, forged in the flames of love and adversity, no matter what Heaven or Hell threw at them.
Forever.
*~*~*
The knocking on Beck’s door pulled him out of a strange dream, one that’d had him lost in Okefenokee Swamp, surrounded by floating skeletons that kept trying to bite him. As he fumbled his way into his pants, he glanced at the clock on the wall, thinking he’d overslept. The clock proved him wrong—it was nearing five thirty in the morning.
Albero was just raising his hand to knock again when Beck swung the door open. The man blurted, “You must wake Master Blackthorne and have her dress. You are both to leave as soon as possible.”
“Now? I thought we were goin’ later this morning,” Beck said, his brain clearing slower than he liked.
“I was not told your destination, only that you were to be made ready and to leave your luggage here.”
Which meant they weren’t headed back to the manor. He knew he wasn’t going to get anything else out of this man, so he gave in. “Okay, I’ll get her up.”
Albero, who always moved so sedately, scurried off.
Beck closed the door. “Ah, hell,” he muttered, suspecting what had happened while they slept. “God, I hope I’m wrong.”
