Sword's Blessing (11 page)

Samantha blinked. She looked at Eli, who shrugged, and the three of them followed the woman up a narrow set of stairs and into an apartment. “Memaw!” she called. “You said something about four visitors this morning…um…here’s three...”

“I hear you, baby, and the fourth is merely late.” Soft white curls clung to the crown of the woman who slowly walked in to the living room. “Good catch, dear. You felt them, didn’t you?”

The younger woman nodded, glancing at Eli and Samantha a little wide-eyed. “Like I’d just touched a live wire, ma’am.”

“Good girl. Go see to the store, and have a mind to the phone. I might have some errands.”

“Yes’m.” She looked at Eli and Samantha and waved shyly. “It’s…nice to meet you,” she said, and then turned and slipped through the door again.

“Well, well. Samantha Parker. It’s been awhile.”

Samantha tilted her head, studying the stooped, dark skinned woman. “I…didn’t think we’ve ever met.”

“Not while you were conscious of it. I chased your mother three blocks to tell her about you.”

The woman came over, taking Samantha’s hand and looking up into her eyes. Samantha caught her breath. The rest of her might have been old and stooped, but the old seer’s black eyes were still as vibrant as ever and sifted through the souls within her as easily as fingers through her hair. “There she is. Ah sweet girl, I’m so proud of both of you…”

Samantha gulped, glanced at Eli and Armand, then back to the woman. “Thank you?”

“Yes, well…” She turned, puttering her way to the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. “Some sweet tea. You go on and sit down.”

She set a large cup filled with sweet tea in front of each of them, took one for herself, and sat, looking over each of them. “We’d better get started with the important stuff first. Where’s the forth?”

Armand looked at Samantha, who looked at Eli. Eli sighed. “We aren’t sure. She was kidnapped.”

“Ah, the lonesome star has made his move.” She hummed, flicking her fingernail against her cup.

“You saw this coming?” Eli demanded.

The old woman laughed. “How do you think prophets work, boy? Wand wiggling, chants and boom we know the paths of men? Don’t be silly. There are things that are obvious, if you know enough. He had to do something about the woman who has defied his orders and destroyed many warriors on both sides.”

Samantha blinked. “Cyrene?”

“Indeed. She’s been troublesome to more than you of late.” Her gaze slid to Armand, who watched the conversation blankly, and she smiled. “Hello, child,” she said. “I do believe I recall you.”

“Do you?” he asked softly. “I don’t.”

“I know.”

“Can you help him?” Samantha asked.

“Not in the least,” she said, and took a sip of tea. “Not only is it not my specialty, it ain’t my place. He’s gotta do this one himself.”

They looked at each other. Samantha chewed on her lip. So much for that. The old woman didn’t seem fazed though, sipping at her tea and humming. Armand was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “in the commotion of coming in, I didn’t actually catch your name.”

She snorted into her glass, and slowly a roiling cackle rose from her lips like leaves underfoot. “Nah, you didn’t miss it child. I don’t offer it up. Get laughed at a lot.” She grinned. “Since you asked nicely, it’s Cassandra. Cassie, for short.”

Samantha shook her head slowly. “I guess your mother got it right, anyway.”

“Sho’nuff.” Cassie replied. “That’s Charlotte, my granddaughter, downstairs. Sweet thing, still a little green.”

“Are you training her?” Eli asked. “Can your kind of art be trained?”

“Half of my ‘art’ is just plain paying attention.” Cassie rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you listen? The rest... yeah, I’m training her best I can. She ain’t so sure ‘bout this paranormal business, but gives her old grandma the benefit of the doubt.”

Samantha opened her mouth to comment that Charlotte had certainly known who they were the moment they walked in. Suddenly there was a wave of
something.
It
rose and crashed through the house, without even rustling the fabric. It wasn’t physical, it was like a spirit quake, and the closest thing Samantha could equate it to was the moment she had taken on the souls wrapped up in Marie and Diego. Voices rose and fell in screams, Angels wailed in dismay, and though Armand seemed to barely even note the shift, Eli and Samantha could not help but fall to the floor, clutching at their ears. The world shifted into a new paradigm, rippling as if fit to tear apart. After nearly thirty seconds of madness inducing shivers all went quiet.

Outwardly the world was back to normal. Or, at least it was no longer pitching and yawing, it was hard to tell if normal was precisely the word. Samantha took a moment to drag for breath, and then reached out for Eli. He was already reaching for her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “What
was
that?”

“That is my cue to set another glass.” Cassie replied, creaking her way up.

Eli pulled her forward and into a bear hug, still trembling. She realized as frightened as she was, the anomaly had frightened him even more. He was still shivering half a minute later. “The Lucifer has shifted. I think. Someone killed him. I know that. The…something, was the…well... the shift of leadership. Maybe.” He was frowning.

“How do you know?” Samantha asked, finally turning to the souls within and explaining, soothing, calming. Though she had gained a great amount of control and rapport with them, somehow the shift had awakened each and every one, and they rattled her mind.

“Just one of those things,” he said, and pulled back with a smile. “You were never actually Damned, so you didn’t hear the words.” He frowned again. “Though, it’s weird. The couplet was disjointed. It was the end half.”

“Is that bad?”

He chuckled, stroking her hair. “Last Lucifer switch was four hundred years ago,” he said. “I don’t know for sure. I’m certain the previous one is dead, but nothing more.”

“I didn’t feel much of anything,” Armand confessed from his seat across the table. “Actually, I’m confused. You say Lucifer is dead?”

“No, child.” Cassandra set the glass at its place. He said
the
Lucifer is dead. That means another should have taken his place.”

“Who?” Samantha wondered. “And why are you setting a fourth place?”

“If she’s coming, it will be within the hour.” Cassie stated, and turned to comfort Charlotte as the door flung open and the girl ran through sobbing in terror. Samantha took a moment to be thankful for Eli, and settled closer into his arms.

* * * *

The ripple of hell shouting for their new leader was powerful enough to nearly take her to the ground, but Giselle stoked the fury in her bones and flew with all her might. She should have left immediately. Why hadn’t she? Had she done wrong? Had she made the world that much worse by allowing Cyrene to take on the mantle of the Lucifer? Her hands started to shake, and realized then her sword was still in hand, held with a grip which would have folded a lesser metal.

She made to put it away, but stopped. The Lucifer’s blood still stained the lower half. She shivered. What did it mean to wound the Lucifer, much less have a direct role in killing him? Had she truly released Cyrene from her bonds? Had she killed one monster only to set another loose? Who would be worse? Surely Cyrene.

She could not go back to them, now. Eli and Samantha…Cyrene was the Lucifer now. How could she face them, knowing it was
her
sword which had saved the new Lucifer,
her
light which had dissolved the Lucifer’s bonds? And now the Lucifer was dead, but Cyrene, a mad woman who had dangled Armand’s dying light before her, had taken the power.

Armand! Merciful Messiah, how could she face him?

It was only then Giselle sank to the ground, gasping in horror, clutching her sword in a desperate attempt to hold on to something familiar. How could she? Why hadn’t she just left? Surely that was just how business was conducted in the realms of the damned! Now she had nowhere to turn. She had disavowed her blessings for Armand’s sake. She had allied herself with the Damned in becoming The Lucifer’s bait rather than submitting to be returned to the fold. Then she had betrayed even Armand when she defended the very woman who had tried to kill him. She had betrayed Armand. The realization clenched her stomach and she shivered again as she had not in many years, wishing for a fire, a warmth, a touch, the sweetness of Armand’s gaze, the gentleness of his wings.

Her toes were numb, so cold and icy they felt near to snapping off, and she hiccupped in fear. Not again, not again! This time surely she would succumb to the chill without Armand there to spur her on, to keep her believing there was more, there was always more.

The sword clattered to the ground through numb fingers and she shivered as she sat back. Bright southern sunlight glinted off the silver, brilliantly illuminating the blood of the Lucifer. It had dried, and she could see by the way it glittered she knew would never wash it from the silver. Her eyes were drawn to the stain, the boiling hot blood of the Damned leader whom she had battled less than an hour before.

She remembered the fury. She remembered the words he had shouted at her.
You have betrayed your cause.
What was her cause? The prophet woman she was supposed to be seeing now had once said she was
ready
for the cause. The Fore had asked which cause. Naively, she had thought it heaven’s cause.

Illuminate the greater error

Serve the world without your terror

Giselle swallowed. Those were the words spoken by the angel Gabriel at her and Armand’s blessing, special because they had not ascended separately, but together, by the same words, by the same sword, in the same moment. And what had that done? She had defied her superiors for her bonded pair, just as they had feared. Perhaps she could be proud of her defiance, but to forget Armand so completely as to defend his killer?

She had said Giselle was
ready!
How could this be
ready?
Ready for what? What had she done, as she was? Giselle gulped, squeezing her eyes shut against tears. What had she done? What would Armand say? What would Gabriel say?

She shied away from thinking of it. What had the Lucifer said? To defy heaven and not fall was an achievement of note. It was a backhanded compliment from the leader of the Damned, but there it was. If the Lucifer had not claimed her as a Damned, maybe she wasn’t completely without hope.

Then again, if she had not defied the Angelic leader, would she have raised her sword in Cyrene’s defense? If she had never seen the way even those she trusted most might betray her for
their
cause would her heart have been strong enough to defy status quo and bring the light of justice to bear on the Lucifer?

Illuminate the greater error

Serve the world without your terror

If she had not freed Cyrene, would she have ever found the strength to draw the blood which colored her sword indelibly?

No…
I have not betrayed my heart.
She swallowed. Perhaps she had not lifted her sword for the sake of the greater good. To control Cyrene through such fear was a horror which could not be borne, and by God she would not be shamed for it.

A great weight lifted from her shoulders. She had never betrayed heaven. She simply was not controlled by it. She took a breath, feeling returning to her fingers and toes. Slowly, she picked up the sword, stroking down the length and raising it high to look more carefully. The blood did not come off on her fingers, affixed to the metal. As she raised the sword, it glowed soft as it had not since she disavowed the blessings of her wings. She smiled. There was more. There was always more.

To illuminate the greater error. To serve her world without her terror. Yes. That was her cause, and the seer had been right. She
was
ready.

Giselle took flight, and like a cloak falling away, her fear stayed to the ground. There were things to do, and she would do them. Without fear. The blessings had returned of their own accord, and for once, she was not cold.

* * * *

Unfortunately, Giselle thought, she did not have the benefit of an unlimited bank account, nor did she have any transportation but herself. In the end, she found downtown by the great football stadium, and the French Quarter by the river. She risked sight by landing on the river bank, but no one noted her. Smiling in triumph, Giselle hid her wings, tossed back her hair, and sheathed her sword, clamoring into the old city.