Читать книгу War of Wings - Tanner McElroy - Страница 11

Gabriel parried, deflecting Azrael’s thrusting blade mere inches from his throat. Azrael was brutal and cunning in their fights, holding nothing back. This time Gabriel noticed he was getting better. Gabriel had to focus. Azrael sidestepped before moving inside Gabriel’s next swing to slice down across his chest. Again Gabriel barely jumped back in time.

“You’re distracted,” Azrael said. He gripped the onyx hilt of his sword, swinging it idly from one hand to another.

South of the Great Mountain stretched a massive field surrounded by the complexes used by the angels for sport, practice, and competition. The field of immaculate green grass stretched for hundreds of miles across the inner island, but it was marked off for many practice fields, like the one where they now fought. There was only one true field for the actual Ludus Paradisus; it was called the Provender but was often referred to as the lawn. Countless wooden structures such as catapults, trebuchets, benches, buildings, targets, and tall seating platforms surrounded the impressive field.

Gabriel sparred often, and Azrael was his opponent most days. Gabriel wasn’t sure why Azrael came out to spar with him although Azrael’s looks and fighting skill gave Gabriel an ego boost. Azrael’s black hair and light skin always made Gabriel happy to be the scruffy, dark-skinned brute he was. Azrael was somewhat of a recluse, and he did not seem too interested in the games. Was he training for something? Gabriel was a force to be reckoned with in the lower classes every year, so he was learning from the best. Maybe he just wanted to get better. Azrael always studied Gabriel’s every move with a strange intensity, but Gabriel always let it go. He could practice for eternity and never catch up. Today, though, Gabriel’s thoughts were elsewhere, and both of them knew it.

“The ceremony for the new Ludus Paradisus community building is happening right now,” Gabriel said. It had been on his mind all morning. He should be the one revealing it, not some virtue angel.

“I don’t see how you can stand working with Raphael.”

He sliced again, and Gabriel blocked without thought.

“I don’t blame you for skipping the ceremony,” Azrael continued. “Maybe a wall will fall on him while he leads the prayer.”

“He’s not the reason.”

It was Arrayah. She was the one who had disrupted everything, shown him up in front of his team, and taken away his place of honor at the ceremony. If he could not even handle a construction assignment as Arrayah had made abundantly clear, how could he be trusted with leadership if some terrible event was coming? Why didn’t Michael go ask her to save half the angels?

Azrael feinted to one side, his blade flashing, and leaped to the other as he flipped the sword around to stab Gabriel in the back. Gabriel was prepared for him, though, and he poured his frustration into the swing of his arm as he spun about to meet the attack. He locked blades with Azrael and used his sword’s cross-guard to twist the other angel’s weapon down and to the side. Releasing the hilt, he backhanded Azrael hard across the jaw. Gabriel grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his head into Azrael’s just above the eyes. Azrael staggered a moment, his hand going up to his face, and collapsed onto the ground.

Gabriel, breathing hard, picked up their dropped swords and carried them over to the weapons rack.

“Where did that come from?” Azrael asked, still clutching his head.

“I have somewhere I need to be.” Without a backward glance, Gabriel leaped up, unfurled his wings, and the practice field dropped away.

He flew over the Field of Tranquility directly toward the location of the new building. He had no idea what he would say. As he neared the crowd around the tarp-draped building, he had second thoughts. There were thousands of angels surrounding the front entrance, all waiting for the unveiling. The lowest class made up the majority, but a few prominent hierarchs were also in attendance. A temporary stage was built at the front to provide some elevation above the crowd. All of the work that had been put into this crystal structure was finally coming to a head, and Gabriel no longer had anything to do with it. Showing up like this would be embarrassing.

When he realized there would be no angels on the back side, he decided a closer look wouldn’t hurt anyone. He flew in and casually walked up behind the impressive structure. He climbed up to the highest vantage point on the building, staying careful to keep hidden. He was quite nervous, but he couldn’t help himself.

From where he crouched, he could see Raphael—upbeat and smiling as always, waving to the crowd as he ascended the steps and then gestured for quiet. He said a few words and then beckoned for Arrayah to join him on the makeshift stage. She stepped up, looking radiant in a simple white robe, her brown hair upswept and light glinting off of the dainty silver crown and diamond Humilitas necklace she wore. She gave a small, humble bow of her head to acknowledge the applause greeting her.

Gabriel didn’t want to take his eyes off her, but he couldn’t watch this. Looking away, he saw the top tier of the crystal framework specially designed for this building. The pure crystal had been cut, placed, and carefully angled so that it perfectly caught the radiant glow from God’s throne—the light that spilled out all across Heaven—and reflected it back from the front of the community center in a dazzling display. It was his idea. A thick canvas tarp had been stretched across it until the big reveal, and in a few moments, Arrayah would pull on a cord and it would drop away, scattering brilliant, colored light across the gathered crowds.

He should be the one pulling the cord. He should be—

Gabriel leaned closer, squinting. From this vantage point, it was clear that the golden pins holding the topmost and heaviest bank of crystals were not driven fully in. One of them looked on the verge of sliding out. Gabriel had completed this section himself in earlier days—had he been so distracted even then? If the pin slid free, all the weight of this corner would be on the remaining pin, and the weight of the crystals might be enough to dislodge it or crack the thin, silver framework supporting each row.

“I thank you all,” Arrayah was saying, “but the credit does not belong to me.”

That’s the truth, Gabriel thought. Although he couldn’t deny that she looked better out there on the stage than he would have. She was lovely. She always seemed so at ease and polished with everything she did. She sashayed gracefully over to stand under the row of crystals.

Looking back to the protruding pin, he gauged the distance between himself and the tier. The scaffolding used during construction had been removed, and there was no room to unfurl his wings. He did not even have a hammer.

“It took a team of angels to complete this beautiful building,” Arrayah said. She stepped closer to the lower end of the cord.

The tarp had been tightly secured to ensure it did not blow off prematurely. Arrayah would have to pull hard. Would one strong tug be enough to dislodge the pin? The rows of crystal were so heavy it had taken a dozen angels to lift and position each piece. Arrayah was standing directly beneath them. She would be crushed.

Gabriel drew a dagger from his belt, one solid piece of iron from blade to hilt, and leaned out across the gap. He stretched forward and used the pommel of the dagger to knock the pin further into place. It barely moved—he needed to strike it harder.

“And of course,” she said. “all the praise and glory goes to our God.” Her hand closed around the cord.

Gabriel reached out, straining, and slammed the iron pommel into the pin with all his strength. It drove in, but with too much force, splitting the crystal. Gabriel became overextended from his swing and lost his balance as a loud crack sounded when the silver framework ruptured. He clutched at the only thing available, the row of crystal, and the cracking sound repeated as the entire row broke free, each section knocking loose the next as it all collapsed.

“Arrayah!” he shouted. There was an explosion of light as the tarp dropped away. Crystals and silver struck his body as they fell, and an instant later the stage crashed into him. Everything went dark for a moment, and when he opened his eyes, he was lying in a heap of debris—the boards of the stage had broken beneath him and become half-tangled in the tarp and shattered shards of crystal lay everywhere. Their light was so dazzling he could hardly see.

As he rubbed his eyes, he made out Arrayah picking herself up from the floor. She had thrown herself to the side when it all fell. The sound from the crowd was a blend of gasping and gossiping. Gabriel saw Raphael storming up the steps, literally shaking with anger, his overseer’s robe flapping behind him like a white flag in the wind.

This was not good.

“I can’t believe you, Gabriel! Are you really this selfish?” Raphael said. Gabriel pushed shards of crystal off of him and attempted to pick himself up. He started to defend himself but drifted off, seeing Arrayah shaking her head in disappointment, and decided to go in a different direction. “I’m sorry, Arrayah.”

“You did this because you were replaced,” Raphael said. “You always make everything all about you. You were only replaced because you gave us no effort, and now you have screwed up everything for everyone! Why couldn’t you just stay away?”

“It was an accident, Raphael.”

“You accidentally brought the front of the building down at the moment we were about to reveal it? We couldn’t even find you half the time to work on it, but your timing is impeccable when you want to make a statement.”

“I thought the crystal might fall on Arrayah. I didn’t mean to mess this up.”

“Well, messing things up seems to be the one thing you are good at these days, Gabriel.”

Gabriel could hear angry shouts from many in the crowd, and he saw the disappointment in Raphael’s eyes, but it was the sadness on Arrayah’s face that hurt the most.

“I’m sorry.”

Gabriel left. Not a single angel tried to stop him.