Thief (36 page)

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Authors: Greg Curtis

BOOK: Thief
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And then he was gone, vanishing without trace as though he had never been, but Mikel felt confidence that he would do as he promised. Logically he wouldn’t, surely couldn’t do otherwise, and anyway Atal’s work was largely to do only what he would normally do anyway. To protect Sherial and the others, to rescue the good and to stop the evil escaping.

 

Next he called the others of the party to him. None of them would be going in, he knew that and so did they now, and he couldn’t help but know the immense wave of relief they all felt at that. They were free now, freed by his insight and their own understanding, and they knew they could never be caught again in such a way. Nonetheless they were still terrified of what lay inside that dark nightmare, even from the little they’d seen. They couldn’t face it again. They were only human. Sadly the same applied to him, and he had to go back in. Only Sherial’s comforting presence deep in his soul allowed him to do the unutterably insane.

 

The rest of the group were vital to him, to his plan. He depended on the knowledge they had already given him, the basics of their worlds’ development, and the understanding of how he could overcome their technologies. He depended on them to give him cover when he went in and hopefully as he came out, no small task when he knew the level of fear they all felt. He felt it too. He needed them to lend him their expertise when it was most needed. When he encountered anything he wasn’t prepared for, no matter what, they would have to give it, each and every one of them.

 

But perhaps most important of all, they would be the ones letting the prisoners escape, though he doubted the demons would understand that until much later. Then he hoped they would scream to the highest mountain. These five were his hole in the wall gang. While he entered once again, and hopefully raised merry hell among the demons, they would be using their own talents and the technology and magic of a million worlds to bore through countless tons of earth, directly to the dungeon cells. The angels in their souls would guide their sight and their arms, the titan would keep them safe, and the light of heaven and a choir of angels should draw the prisoners out like a magnet.

 

Perhaps the greatest wonder was that he knew the others would do as he asked, despite their fear. For they too were traumatized by what they had given into; shamed by their failure, frightened and angry. But they too all had true courage, the ability to face what they were most frightened of, and do battle with it. It was why the angels had chosen them. Courage too Mikel understood, is based on goodness.

 

But before they went in, he needed them all to be at their peak. They needed to have all their wits about them, and every piece of equipment that they could use. That he could use. The answer of course was obvious. They like he, were trapped here. Trapped as much by the fact that they didn’t want to risk leaving in case they lost the nerve to return, as anything else. But like him, each of them also had a bond with an angel. If they concentrated on their needs clearly, their angels would hear, and hopefully respond.

 

Actually he was certain they would, to the best of their ability, but there were simply some things they wouldn’t do. For a start they wouldn’t bring their champions weapons. Shields, tools, cars, anything practical, but not weapons. They were not gunrunners no matter how worthy the cause. But that was fine, they weren’t exactly going to war either. Not in the human sense.

 

Nor, he knew could the angels enter so close to the darkness as the humans. Though they could perhaps come close enough to do as he needed.

 

As if on cue, all of the villagers, once they understood his plan, knew instant success. He could see it in their eyes, in their faces as each of them made contact anew. There was something about angels that simply shone through everything they did, everyone they touched. Then again maybe it was Sherial’s love, running through him, allowing him to see what a mere human could not. Either way it was a glorious sight to see. Except of course, to a demon.

 

One by one the others rose, and walked away from him and the small village to pick up whatever they had requested. He alone could not be helped so easily. For what he needed was more than simply equipment; he needed his workshop. For he had to take what the others could provide him with, and adapt it to his own uses. Sherial he knew would not be strong enough alone. She could grab all of the equipment, of that he was sure. But she couldn’t construct a new workshop here, nor come any closer than the other angels, much as she might want to.

 

Sherial needed help. He needed help too. For that was the crux of the problem. Between him and the other villagers, they had six different understandings of the universe, as well as the angel’s own godliness. But for the plan to work they needed to be able to counter the fallen on every plane, and the demons had probably many more and different understandings of the universe to use. Hence they needed those defences.

 

Slowly he relaxed into a kneel, opened his heart as wide as he could and shared his thoughts with her, communicating his needs as best he could, and telling her once more of his love.

 

Sherial was he knew, always with him, sending him her love and comfort as she had from the start, and yet he still needed, yearned to welcome her more closely. He always would. The business part of him, that piece that was both human and a thief, came between them, so that when he wasn’t thinking about her it was as though there was a distance between them. And yet when she was with him, the thief was distant, as was everything else of the human world.

 

Now was the time for him to start becoming whole at last. For the cunning thief and her devoted lover to become one, so that he could be everything he needed to be. It wasn’t easy, not by any stretch of the imagination. Discovering that he was in fact, two completely opposite people at the same time was confusing to say the least. But he was certain now he would succeed someday. It would take time. It would possibly take the rest of his life. But he would get there in the end.

 

Who and what he would be when he got there was another scary question. But nowhere near scary enough to hold him back.

 

“I am Sherial’s thief”. The new mantra came out of nowhere and yet it seemed to fit perfectly. He repeated it, feeling its rightness and allowing its focus to continue the task of bringing him closer to both his love and his duty.

 

As he began, the certain poetry in it appealed to him, as he realized he was indeed Sherial’s thief. He had stolen her heart, and in turn given her his. Then again perhaps she had stolen it. He was both the one who owned Sherial and was in turn owned by her. In the same way as he had stolen wealth and freedom, he had given the wealth to those who needed it, and the criminals’ freedom to people that needed justice. His whole life was in a way the parallel of his love. It was something he could finally accept.

 

A sense of peace built up in him, allowing him the freedom to relax for the first time in too many months. He closed his eyes, and shut down the rest of his senses, the better to know the strange sights and sounds that began to assail him.

 

It was like being in the darkest most comfortable place he could imagine and then hearing the soft soothing voices of loved ones, almost as though they were inside him. And he saw images too, images of faces, kindly loving faces. He smelled scents he’d not known since childhood, and relived pleasant memories.

 

And all the while as he did this, he knew he wasn’t alone. He would never be alone again. Sherial was there with him, experiencing what he experienced, and passing on her love. As he saw through her, so she saw through him.

 

The heavens somehow glowed around them, a magnificent blackness filled with love and glory. He saw without eyes, heard without ears and felt without skin. Yet its very nature was a paradox. For though he could see no light he sensed that he bathed in it. There was no heat yet he soaked in the warmth of it all. His ears heard nothing, but the void sang its beauty right through him. His mere human senses were in no way a match for this place.

 

Mixed in among the universe, there were sparks of brightness, glowing like stars, communicating, rejoicing and loving. Slowly he understood that they were others present with them. Angels some of them he was sure, while many were completely different. He suspected there were titans present, their brightly burning life energy searing him with its heat. There were other beings too, totally different from anything he had ever imagined, perhaps even from what he could understand and yet all he saw were their souls. What their actual bodies looked like he couldn’t even begin to guess and wasn’t too sure he wanted to. Yet despite their differences, all were truly the same, bound together by their goodness and love.

 

Swiftly it became too much for him, and he knew he could not survive much longer. He was far too small and weak, like a mouse at a human dinner party. Yet it was all he wanted. Only Sherial kept him apart he knew, protecting him from what was far too great for him, and he accepted her wisdom reluctantly. The mortal, business part of his mind told him that dead, he would not accomplish his ends, while his desire told him Sherial was where he wanted to be anyway. And so slowly he withdrew into her instead, using her strength as his own, as she wanted him to.

 

He showed her his plan, in its fullest detail, though she knew much of it already, and through her others - many others - saw its complex yet simple nature. And they too understood what was required. Mikel felt their acceptance almost as though he was a teacher and his class had mastered the times tables. Through Sherial he felt many of them almost gasping mentally, wondering why they hadn’t seen something so simple, while others laughed at the simple poetry of it. Best of all he felt Sherial’s admiration of his plan and his mind, and he couldn’t help but flush with pride.

 

But the minds of those others were far greater than his, and in a split second the class itself became their own teachers while he was left behind to wonder at their progress. Many of them took their own understandings out of what he had begun, their thoughts exploring the ramifications to the n
th
degree, far beyond his ability to follow. Beyond Sherial’s also. Some perhaps even beyond the titans’.

 

He felt the lightning fast and yet delicate probes of their thoughts as they questioned his determination, and just possibly his sanity. His mind was an open book to them, yet it didn’t feel like an invasion. It felt more like family, concerned about their little brother, gathering around, asking questions and trying to help. Which, Sherial told him, was exactly what it was.

 

Many of them began to act, though he suspected some of them decided on their own plans of attack, modifying his as simply too primitive. He didn’t mind that, finally understanding he could trust their judgement over his any day. Once that might have been intolerable, might have rankled, but in the last twenty four hours he had learned just how little he really knew, how foolish he could be and just how wise and good they were. If Sherial trusted their judgement, so did he.

 

Better than anything else that day, he felt for the first time an acceptance by many of them that what they were doing was right. It was well and proper that this be tried. There was also a feeling that the plan could work, although none would have wagered money on it. Then again, none of them would wager at all. And their reluctant, grudging admission that there was perhaps a chance, a good chance that this would succeed, was more to him than he could have said. It gave him hope.

 

It wasn’t all good news though.

 

Through him Sherial too understood the plan more clearly, knew the dangers better, the ones he had specifically prepared for, and became afraid. Something no angel should ever be. He felt her fear for him, her fear that he might be killed or worse, and for the first time, he realized, she understood the concept of mortality. For Sherial was a young angel, not much older than himself, relatively speaking. And as an angel she was an immortal. Death in the human sense for her was not and never had been an option. One day she would simply move on, as and when the Lord decided. Yet she was in love with a mortal, for whom death was certain, was far too soon and in his case, never very far away.

 

It was a bitter pill to swallow, and he tasted it with her. Death for him was something he had long ago accepted. A concept he even enjoyed, for the danger was what added spice to his life. He had never concerned himself with what came after, nor with even when it might come, soon or far. Only the fate of those he left behind really bothered him. And even that had mainly been a monetary matter. What would so many survive on without him?

 

“One of these days”, he told her, “No matter what else happens, I’m going to die.” He told her it as gently as he could, finally understanding how serious a thing death could be. How terrible for those it left behind, and he cried with her as she had to accept his mortality. He didn’t want to leave her, ever. But his nature and hers meant there was no choice.

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