Fic: The Left Behind (Various Angels, PG) 1/6
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: This is the sequel to A History of Heaven.
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter word count: 3,320
Chapter Summary: Cariel tries to rally the remains of Gabriel’s choir in the face of uncertainty… and Naomi’s torture
CHAPTER 1:
The Remains
Cariel lifted his hand to brush fingers over his lips. He had stolen a kiss from his Archangel. Stolen a kiss and then had the memory stolen from him. It’s better that you don’t remember, Gabriel had once told him, but now Gabriel had given back the memory. Gabriel’s memory, at least.
Gabriel had liked it! He’d liked it! He’d liked it, and he’d never told Cariel, not once in the centuries since! So much time had been wasted! So much dancing around each other, Cariel never daring to presume too much, not about this, and Gabriel… Gabriel had known the entire time. Cariel had thought his Archangel had been stupidly obtuse about his feelings, or perhaps had been deliberately ignoring them to politely express disinterest, but no. No! Gabriel had known, and he had wanted another kiss, and he had never said anything!
Cariel whirled around, slamming his fist into the red glass walls of the tower of fire. It splintered beneath his knuckles, a spiderweb of cracks stretching out from the contact. The Seraph pulled his hand back slowly, staring in horror at the damage. Gabriel’s tower was not a building like those on Earth. It was tied directly to the Archangel, sustained by his grace and power. So long as Gabriel lived and claimed it as his own, it could withstand anything. One punch from a frustrated Seraph shouldn’t so much as scuff the wall, much less crack it!
“So he’s gone then.”
Barachiel’s quiet voice wrapped around Cariel from behind, and Cariel closed his eyes, pulling his hand in close to his core. Barachiel slid forward, his fragile wings wrapping around his brother’s back as he encouraged Cariel to lean against his side. “The choir doesn’t understand.”
“I don’t understand,” Cariel muttered. It wasn’t entirely true. This had been the best outcome Cariel had seen for centuries now, Gabriel escaping Heaven with his life.
The other outcome involved Raphael killing Gabriel. Technically, that could still happen, but Gabriel was already on Earth. Cariel could barely feel his grace so distant. Earth was more Gabriel’s home than Heaven these days. If Gabriel had any chance of slipping Raphael’s pursuit, it would be there.
Still, while Cariel could understand why Gabriel had left, he couldn’t understand why Gabriel had left without him. You loved me! He restrained himself from shouting over the choir connection to his Archangel. Gabriel was already shutting them out mentally. He could feel the block in his mind. We were going to escape together…
“I…” Barachiel took an unnecessary breath at his side, twisting his fingers together. “I may have committed treason a few minutes ago.”
“What?” Cariel turned sharply to his younger brother, dark eyes searching the other Seraph’s face. Barachiel was not a traitor. He was sweet, and gentle, and loving, everything humans said angels were meant to be. “Barachiel, what did you do?” If Barachiel had done something wrong…
Well, if Barachiel had done something wrong, Cariel would protect him. Gabriel wasn’t around to speak for their choir anymore. Cariel was the lieutenant. He was now the senior-most angel of Gabriel’s choir, and therefore, he was in charge.
“No one said Gabriel wasn’t our Archangel anymore,” Barachiel answered, very deliberately widening his eyes and making his grace as innocent as possible. “He was in trouble.”
Cariel relaxed minutely, sensing where this was going. “What did you do?”
“I ordered a garrison to call the winds to defend him.” Barachiel lowered his gaze, submissive before Cariel’s scrutiny. “Not to hurt his assailant, just… slow him down. And to help Gabriel fly faster. I never meant… I didn’t realize Gabriel was the one being treasonous! I just thought: my choirmaster is in danger! I must help!”
“Oh, Barach…” Cariel clasped his brother’s shoulders, a new swell of admiration rising in his grace. “You are very underestimated.”
“I know.” Barachiel’s pretend innocence was immediately wiped out by a mischievous little smirk-gentle and sweet he could be, but he was one of Gabriel’s first-chosen angels, clever and tricky to his core. “Think they’ll believe it?”
“If you’re already looking innocent by the time they ask, they might just. Don’t put on the innocent face while they’re watching.” Cariel touched Barachiel’s face gently, shaking his head slightly. “You’ve been playing a long con, little brother. I’m impressed.”
“It isn’t a con if it’s true,” Barachiel protested. “The only thing I’ve been less than honest about is my intelligence. I encourage them to associate my gentleness with a lack of ulterior motives. That’s it.”
“And as a result, they love you too much to put you under Naomi’s knife.”
“I’m harmless. And broken.” Barachiel spread his thin wings to demonstrate. They were filling out now, capable of carrying Barachiel on short flights, but long journeys were still too taxing on the weakened limbs. “Gabriel saved my life. They cannot fault me my loyalty.”
Cariel managed to smile at his little brother, wrapping his healthier wings around him. “I am so glad Gabriel chose you for our choir.”
“I don’t think I would have fit well in any others.”
Michael himself interrupted the brothers’ embrace, filling Gabriel’s office with his presence. “Cariel!” he snapped. “Gather your choir here, in the tower. Guards will be posted around the perimeter. I want every last angel of Gabriel’s contained. No one leaves.”
“What will happen to us?” Cariel released Barachiel and put himself between the Archangel and his younger brother, automatically defensive. “What are you going to do to the choir?”
“We haven’t decided yet. Contain them, Cariel, or Heaven’s wrath will fall on your head.”
Michael was gone as suddenly as he arrived, and Cariel let his wings sag. He turned to Barachiel, who gave a little shake of his head. Don’t fight it. Cariel nodded reluctant agreement and reached out on the choir-wide channel to summon Gabriel’s angels home.
The angels gathered in the meeting chamber on the first floor of Gabriel’s tower. The floor wasn’t large enough for the entire choir, so it stretched twenty stories up, a massive room of red glass and flickering, ember-like light. Cariel positioned himself at the top of the chamber, just below Gabriel’s usual perch on a delicate outcropping on the wall. Ordinarily, when the entire choir met like this, Gabriel spread his wings across the ceiling so all could see him. Cariel didn’t even attempt to try. His six wings had always been dwarfed by Gabriel’s hundreds. Any attempt to replicate his choirmaster’s display of power would only demonstrate how much weaker he genuinely was.
The choir filled in the room much more quickly than Cariel had anticipated, taking their positions along the walls and floor. The rustling of wings was the only sound in the air-no one was talking. The combined grace of Gabriel’s choir was fearful and confused, a choking, heavy sensation.
When the last Cherub found his seat, Cariel rose, balanced on his perch. “Peace be with you, brothers,” he began.
“And also with you,” chorused back from the choir.
“I know you are confused,” Cariel said, trying to radiate as much calm and control as he could, hoping he could reassure his brothers by his own appearance. See? I’m not panicked! You shouldn’t be, either! “A lot has happened, very quickly. Gabriel, our choirmaster, has,” there wasn’t really a good word to sum up everything Gabriel had just done, “abdicated his position.”
The gathered angels broke into a flurry of whispers and whimpers, their wings stirring against the walls and each other. Cariel let them talk for a moment before holding up his hands and thrumming his grace over the room, calling their attention back to him. “Please understand, Gabriel has not turned his back on Heaven, and certainly not on us.” At least, Cariel hoped not. “He loves us, his choir, with his whole spirit. Everything he has done today, he has done for us, for our safety, for our sanity.”
“How is this for us?” Jegudiel, a fourth-class Seraph demanded. “He abandoned us!”
Cariel held up his hands again for silence, keeping his grace calm. “Surely none of us have been blind to the struggle between Gabriel and Raphael. The past six centuries have been tearing Heaven apart at its very foundations. Angel has turned on angel. Brothers have attacked each other here, within the very walls of Heaven itself. This is meant to be peaceful. A sanctuary. But as long as Gabriel and Raphael were confined here together, we could never achieve that. Gabriel left so that we could be free of their feud. He has…” Cariel’s tight hold on his grace wavered for a moment, his own grief at losing Gabriel flickering through his wings before he could reign in back in. To his surprise, while his brothers saw, they responded with gentle waves of comfort flashing through their own graces, reflecting support back at him instead of panic that the second-in-command was in mourning. Bolstered by his brothers, Cariel continued. “He has sacrificed himself so that we might have a chance to heal Heaven.”
“Is he going to die?” Samandiriel, one of Cariel’s own Dominions, called up to him from somewhere near the floor. “Are they going to sentence him like they did Lucifer?”
Cariel closed his eyes for a moment. “Gabriel has broken one of Heaven’s most absolute laws. He has trespassed through the veil of the Borderlands and gone to Earth without permission or consent. He is now a traitor to Heaven, and if caught, will be judged as one.”
“And what does that mean for us?” One of Barachiel’s Angels, a tiny Earth-shaper named Hael, was hunkering close to her Seraph as she asked her question. Barachiel was rubbing her wings gently even as he looked up at Cariel.
“It means Gabriel is no longer our choirmaster.” Cariel closed his eyes for a moment, hating the words even as he spoke them. “It means if we see him, we must attempt to apprehend him to bring him before Michael and Raphael, or, failing that, we must attempt to kill him on sight. And as for our choir…” Cariel sighed and opened his eyes again, casting his gaze over each of his thousands of brothers. They all looked to him for direction now. “Michael and Raphael are deciding what to do with us. Whatever their decision, I ask that you accept it without complaint. It is most likely that we will be split between their choirs. Obey your new choirmaster as you would Gabriel himself. If you are demoted-which we all very likely will be-accept your new role graciously. Same if you are reassigned. After what Azazel and his traitors did, both Michael and Raphael will be reluctant to trust an angel from another’s choir. Do not give them reason to have you precautionarily executed.”
“What about you?” Samandiriel asked, stepping forward to look up at his Seraph. “What’s going to happen to you?”
Cariel managed a little smile for the Dominion, and he shrugged with all his wings so all his brothers could see. “I honestly do not know. But do not… Michael and Raphael know my loyalty to Gabriel is absolute. If they do not wish to risk my continued presence in Heaven, do not protest. Barachiel should survive.” He gestured down to his brother on the ground. “If anything happens to me, you can turn to him for guidance, but do not do so against the orders of your new choirmasters. Is that understood?”
Gabriel’s choir immediately rose up shouting, but Cariel flapped his wings loudly to startle them back into silence. “That is an order! You do not risk anything for me! Do I make myself clear?”
None of his brothers wanted to accept Cariel’s command, but they didn’t have much choice when Bartholomew, Naomi’s top Dominion, appeared in their midst. “Cariel.”
“Bartholomew.” Cariel gave a small bow to the Dominion, far more respect than was warranted from a Seraph to a Dominion, but Cariel didn’t want to give the remaining Archangels any reason to suspect Gabriel’s choir would be more trouble than they were worth. “How may I help you?”
“You are ordered to report to Naomi for questioning.” The gathered angels started muttering their protests, but Cariel held up one hand to silence them.
“Now?”
“Immediately.” Bartholomew glanced at the gathered choir with only a touch of nervousness in his grace-he was outnumbered and alone-but Cariel simply smiled at him and nodded down to Barachiel, who returned the gesture. Barachiel would watch over the choir while Cariel was being questioned.
“Then lead the way.” Without any sign of resistance, Cariel gestured for Bartholomew to leave first. Bartholomew reached out and seized Cariel’s wrist before folding his grace through Heaven and dragging Cariel along with him. He rematerialized in Michael’s tower, in front of Naomi.
“Thank you, Bartholomew.” Naomi was waiting in her interrogation room, a very slightly softer version of Alastair’s torture chamber. The chair, at least, was padded, but the room was still blindingly white and sterile. Cariel eyed the restraints on the chair and tried not to let his unease show. “You may go.”
Bartholomew blinked out of existence, and Naomi turned to Cariel, her hands folded calmly in front of her. “Hello, Cariel. It has been a very long time since you last came by for a visit.”
“I saw no reason to visit someone who’d turn on me as completely as you had. You know that.” Cariel stepped over to Naomi’s table, examining her instruments of torture. They were so much like Alastair’s, though they weren’t quite as pointy all over. Cariel had always suspected Alastair had intentionally made his tools look scarier than they needed to be. “Please note,” he said quickly, turning back to his partner, “that this observation is made based on the history between the two of us and has nothing to do with Gabriel’s current actions, nor does it reflect on the current mentality of the choir.”
“Duly noted. I still don’t see why you hold that trial against me, though. I was simply adhering to our pre-arranged plan. It’s been thousands of years, Cariel. Haven’t you forgiven me yet?”
“No,” Cariel answered. “And I very likely never will. That plan involved Michael and Gabriel’s participation in the trial. You’re damn lucky I was able to get us out of any sort of permanent punishment.”
“Cariel…”
“No.” Cariel turned his back on Naomi. “But I’m not here to discuss the past. I’m here to be tortured.”
They could call it questioning all they wanted, but Cariel knew Naomi’s garrisons were no kinder than Alastair’s when it came right down to it. Nothing Cariel said would be trusted in this room. Naomi would shove her way into his mind and rip the truth out from his thoughts and memories.
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Naomi sighed. “We aren’t torturers, Cariel. We are inquisitors.”
“Pretty it up however you want. We both know the truth.” Cariel squared his jaw and strode over to Naomi’s chair, taking a seat before he could lose his nerve. Last time he was in one of these, Alastair was trying to implant false memories into his mind so he could be accused of treason and executed. It took a lot of trust to voluntarily submit for such an ‘inquisition,’ trust Cariel didn’t have. He was attempting to make up for it with false courage. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“As you wish.” Naomi reached for one of the restraints, but Cariel pulled his arm away.
“Is that really necessary? I got in the chair without even being asked!”
Naomi gave Cariel a flat look, grabbing his wrist and forcing it down to the armrest. “It is. For safety reasons.”
“Whose safety?” Cariel asked, not resisting as Naomi shackled his other arm.
“Yours.” The younger Seraph picked up a drill from her table and looked back at Cariel. There was something almost sad in her eyes. “This is going to hurt.”
By the time Naomi had finished, Cariel’s voice had given out from screaming and he was limp in the chair, his body aching where he had strained against the cuffs holding him down. If he hadn’t been restrained, he probably would have tried to claw his own head off. His entire spirit hurt, and his wings fluttered weakly against the back of the chair. Naomi was all business as she unbuckled the cuffs, but she didn’t offer to help Cariel to his feet.
Cariel didn’t attempt to get up. He was weak, drained all over, but there was a thread of triumph in his grace that he couldn’t quash. Naomi hadn’t found anything incriminating in Cariel’s memories, because he hadn’t had any. The only warning Gabriel had given Cariel was his odd behavior just minutes before he left, his unusual calm, and that memory he had restored. Cariel genuinely had been innocent in Gabriel’s escape, and he genuinely had no idea where his Archangel might have run to.
“Naomi…” The Seraph grunted his partner’s name as he tried to make himself sit upright. “Naomi, the choir…”
“What about them?” Naomi was cleaning her tools off, setting her workspace back to order.
“They’re innocent.” Cariel closed his eyes and shook his head, needing a moment to recover just from that movement. “I knew the most, and I didn’t even… they will stay loyal to Heaven, if given a chance. Tell Michael… they deserve a chance. They’re good angels.”
“I have no control over Michael.” There was a trace of bitterness in Naomi’s voice, a recollection of the short time when she had held one of the most exalted positions of an Archangel’s second in command. “I can’t tell him anything.”
“You’ll report to him on this.” Cariel gestured weakly between them. “Put it in your report. Make a recommendation. They’re innocent. Punish me if you have to, but not them. They didn’t know anything.”
“It’s not my place-”
“Naomi, please!” Michael and Raphael wouldn’t listen to him. Cariel had to get Naomi to vouch for Gabriel’s choir if he wanted even a chance of sparing them all this. “There are thousands of them, of our little brothers. Our innocent little brothers.”
“I can’t tell Michael anything,” Naomi repeated, glaring over her shoulder at Cariel. The older Seraph sagged back into the chair, and Naomi sighed, setting down her drill, “but I’ll include a recommendation,” she conceded. “There were no red flags in your mind.”
“Thank you,” Cariel breathed.
Naomi made a frustrated noise and snapped her fingers. Moments later, Bartholomew appeared beside her. “Return Cariel to Gabriel’s tower. Put him in his office.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bartholomew bowed to Naomi before seizing Cariel’s arm and folding through Heaven.
Cariel was grateful to be in familiar territory again, and even more grateful when Bartholomew left him alone. Barachiel burst in a few minutes later, quick to close the door behind him. “I felt your return! Are you all right?” He rushed to Cariel’s side, touching his grace to the older Seraph’s and feeding him strength.
Cariel wrapped an arm around Barachiel’s shoulders and dragged him down to join him in the big chair. Bartholomew was unwelcome, but Barachiel’s soft grace was a balm against his strained spirit. “Drained,” he answered, “but alive. For now. She didn’t find anything incriminating. Gabriel did that right, at least.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Barachiel asked.
“I don’t know,” Cariel answered honestly, turning against his brother’s side. “I don’t have any clues.”
“You were very confident when addressing the choir.”
Cariel laughed harshly. “That was a huge line of bullshit, Barachiel. I was making it up as I went along.”
“I thought you might have been,” Barachiel admitted, “but I hoped you weren’t.”
“No.” Cariel closed his eyes and shuddered. “I have no idea what happens next.”
Next...
Notes: This is the sequel to A History of Heaven.
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter word count: 3,320
Chapter Summary: Cariel tries to rally the remains of Gabriel’s choir in the face of uncertainty… and Naomi’s torture
CHAPTER 1:
The Remains
Cariel lifted his hand to brush fingers over his lips. He had stolen a kiss from his Archangel. Stolen a kiss and then had the memory stolen from him. It’s better that you don’t remember, Gabriel had once told him, but now Gabriel had given back the memory. Gabriel’s memory, at least.
Gabriel had liked it! He’d liked it! He’d liked it, and he’d never told Cariel, not once in the centuries since! So much time had been wasted! So much dancing around each other, Cariel never daring to presume too much, not about this, and Gabriel… Gabriel had known the entire time. Cariel had thought his Archangel had been stupidly obtuse about his feelings, or perhaps had been deliberately ignoring them to politely express disinterest, but no. No! Gabriel had known, and he had wanted another kiss, and he had never said anything!
Cariel whirled around, slamming his fist into the red glass walls of the tower of fire. It splintered beneath his knuckles, a spiderweb of cracks stretching out from the contact. The Seraph pulled his hand back slowly, staring in horror at the damage. Gabriel’s tower was not a building like those on Earth. It was tied directly to the Archangel, sustained by his grace and power. So long as Gabriel lived and claimed it as his own, it could withstand anything. One punch from a frustrated Seraph shouldn’t so much as scuff the wall, much less crack it!
“So he’s gone then.”
Barachiel’s quiet voice wrapped around Cariel from behind, and Cariel closed his eyes, pulling his hand in close to his core. Barachiel slid forward, his fragile wings wrapping around his brother’s back as he encouraged Cariel to lean against his side. “The choir doesn’t understand.”
“I don’t understand,” Cariel muttered. It wasn’t entirely true. This had been the best outcome Cariel had seen for centuries now, Gabriel escaping Heaven with his life.
The other outcome involved Raphael killing Gabriel. Technically, that could still happen, but Gabriel was already on Earth. Cariel could barely feel his grace so distant. Earth was more Gabriel’s home than Heaven these days. If Gabriel had any chance of slipping Raphael’s pursuit, it would be there.
Still, while Cariel could understand why Gabriel had left, he couldn’t understand why Gabriel had left without him. You loved me! He restrained himself from shouting over the choir connection to his Archangel. Gabriel was already shutting them out mentally. He could feel the block in his mind. We were going to escape together…
“I…” Barachiel took an unnecessary breath at his side, twisting his fingers together. “I may have committed treason a few minutes ago.”
“What?” Cariel turned sharply to his younger brother, dark eyes searching the other Seraph’s face. Barachiel was not a traitor. He was sweet, and gentle, and loving, everything humans said angels were meant to be. “Barachiel, what did you do?” If Barachiel had done something wrong…
Well, if Barachiel had done something wrong, Cariel would protect him. Gabriel wasn’t around to speak for their choir anymore. Cariel was the lieutenant. He was now the senior-most angel of Gabriel’s choir, and therefore, he was in charge.
“No one said Gabriel wasn’t our Archangel anymore,” Barachiel answered, very deliberately widening his eyes and making his grace as innocent as possible. “He was in trouble.”
Cariel relaxed minutely, sensing where this was going. “What did you do?”
“I ordered a garrison to call the winds to defend him.” Barachiel lowered his gaze, submissive before Cariel’s scrutiny. “Not to hurt his assailant, just… slow him down. And to help Gabriel fly faster. I never meant… I didn’t realize Gabriel was the one being treasonous! I just thought: my choirmaster is in danger! I must help!”
“Oh, Barach…” Cariel clasped his brother’s shoulders, a new swell of admiration rising in his grace. “You are very underestimated.”
“I know.” Barachiel’s pretend innocence was immediately wiped out by a mischievous little smirk-gentle and sweet he could be, but he was one of Gabriel’s first-chosen angels, clever and tricky to his core. “Think they’ll believe it?”
“If you’re already looking innocent by the time they ask, they might just. Don’t put on the innocent face while they’re watching.” Cariel touched Barachiel’s face gently, shaking his head slightly. “You’ve been playing a long con, little brother. I’m impressed.”
“It isn’t a con if it’s true,” Barachiel protested. “The only thing I’ve been less than honest about is my intelligence. I encourage them to associate my gentleness with a lack of ulterior motives. That’s it.”
“And as a result, they love you too much to put you under Naomi’s knife.”
“I’m harmless. And broken.” Barachiel spread his thin wings to demonstrate. They were filling out now, capable of carrying Barachiel on short flights, but long journeys were still too taxing on the weakened limbs. “Gabriel saved my life. They cannot fault me my loyalty.”
Cariel managed to smile at his little brother, wrapping his healthier wings around him. “I am so glad Gabriel chose you for our choir.”
“I don’t think I would have fit well in any others.”
Michael himself interrupted the brothers’ embrace, filling Gabriel’s office with his presence. “Cariel!” he snapped. “Gather your choir here, in the tower. Guards will be posted around the perimeter. I want every last angel of Gabriel’s contained. No one leaves.”
“What will happen to us?” Cariel released Barachiel and put himself between the Archangel and his younger brother, automatically defensive. “What are you going to do to the choir?”
“We haven’t decided yet. Contain them, Cariel, or Heaven’s wrath will fall on your head.”
Michael was gone as suddenly as he arrived, and Cariel let his wings sag. He turned to Barachiel, who gave a little shake of his head. Don’t fight it. Cariel nodded reluctant agreement and reached out on the choir-wide channel to summon Gabriel’s angels home.
The angels gathered in the meeting chamber on the first floor of Gabriel’s tower. The floor wasn’t large enough for the entire choir, so it stretched twenty stories up, a massive room of red glass and flickering, ember-like light. Cariel positioned himself at the top of the chamber, just below Gabriel’s usual perch on a delicate outcropping on the wall. Ordinarily, when the entire choir met like this, Gabriel spread his wings across the ceiling so all could see him. Cariel didn’t even attempt to try. His six wings had always been dwarfed by Gabriel’s hundreds. Any attempt to replicate his choirmaster’s display of power would only demonstrate how much weaker he genuinely was.
The choir filled in the room much more quickly than Cariel had anticipated, taking their positions along the walls and floor. The rustling of wings was the only sound in the air-no one was talking. The combined grace of Gabriel’s choir was fearful and confused, a choking, heavy sensation.
When the last Cherub found his seat, Cariel rose, balanced on his perch. “Peace be with you, brothers,” he began.
“And also with you,” chorused back from the choir.
“I know you are confused,” Cariel said, trying to radiate as much calm and control as he could, hoping he could reassure his brothers by his own appearance. See? I’m not panicked! You shouldn’t be, either! “A lot has happened, very quickly. Gabriel, our choirmaster, has,” there wasn’t really a good word to sum up everything Gabriel had just done, “abdicated his position.”
The gathered angels broke into a flurry of whispers and whimpers, their wings stirring against the walls and each other. Cariel let them talk for a moment before holding up his hands and thrumming his grace over the room, calling their attention back to him. “Please understand, Gabriel has not turned his back on Heaven, and certainly not on us.” At least, Cariel hoped not. “He loves us, his choir, with his whole spirit. Everything he has done today, he has done for us, for our safety, for our sanity.”
“How is this for us?” Jegudiel, a fourth-class Seraph demanded. “He abandoned us!”
Cariel held up his hands again for silence, keeping his grace calm. “Surely none of us have been blind to the struggle between Gabriel and Raphael. The past six centuries have been tearing Heaven apart at its very foundations. Angel has turned on angel. Brothers have attacked each other here, within the very walls of Heaven itself. This is meant to be peaceful. A sanctuary. But as long as Gabriel and Raphael were confined here together, we could never achieve that. Gabriel left so that we could be free of their feud. He has…” Cariel’s tight hold on his grace wavered for a moment, his own grief at losing Gabriel flickering through his wings before he could reign in back in. To his surprise, while his brothers saw, they responded with gentle waves of comfort flashing through their own graces, reflecting support back at him instead of panic that the second-in-command was in mourning. Bolstered by his brothers, Cariel continued. “He has sacrificed himself so that we might have a chance to heal Heaven.”
“Is he going to die?” Samandiriel, one of Cariel’s own Dominions, called up to him from somewhere near the floor. “Are they going to sentence him like they did Lucifer?”
Cariel closed his eyes for a moment. “Gabriel has broken one of Heaven’s most absolute laws. He has trespassed through the veil of the Borderlands and gone to Earth without permission or consent. He is now a traitor to Heaven, and if caught, will be judged as one.”
“And what does that mean for us?” One of Barachiel’s Angels, a tiny Earth-shaper named Hael, was hunkering close to her Seraph as she asked her question. Barachiel was rubbing her wings gently even as he looked up at Cariel.
“It means Gabriel is no longer our choirmaster.” Cariel closed his eyes for a moment, hating the words even as he spoke them. “It means if we see him, we must attempt to apprehend him to bring him before Michael and Raphael, or, failing that, we must attempt to kill him on sight. And as for our choir…” Cariel sighed and opened his eyes again, casting his gaze over each of his thousands of brothers. They all looked to him for direction now. “Michael and Raphael are deciding what to do with us. Whatever their decision, I ask that you accept it without complaint. It is most likely that we will be split between their choirs. Obey your new choirmaster as you would Gabriel himself. If you are demoted-which we all very likely will be-accept your new role graciously. Same if you are reassigned. After what Azazel and his traitors did, both Michael and Raphael will be reluctant to trust an angel from another’s choir. Do not give them reason to have you precautionarily executed.”
“What about you?” Samandiriel asked, stepping forward to look up at his Seraph. “What’s going to happen to you?”
Cariel managed a little smile for the Dominion, and he shrugged with all his wings so all his brothers could see. “I honestly do not know. But do not… Michael and Raphael know my loyalty to Gabriel is absolute. If they do not wish to risk my continued presence in Heaven, do not protest. Barachiel should survive.” He gestured down to his brother on the ground. “If anything happens to me, you can turn to him for guidance, but do not do so against the orders of your new choirmasters. Is that understood?”
Gabriel’s choir immediately rose up shouting, but Cariel flapped his wings loudly to startle them back into silence. “That is an order! You do not risk anything for me! Do I make myself clear?”
None of his brothers wanted to accept Cariel’s command, but they didn’t have much choice when Bartholomew, Naomi’s top Dominion, appeared in their midst. “Cariel.”
“Bartholomew.” Cariel gave a small bow to the Dominion, far more respect than was warranted from a Seraph to a Dominion, but Cariel didn’t want to give the remaining Archangels any reason to suspect Gabriel’s choir would be more trouble than they were worth. “How may I help you?”
“You are ordered to report to Naomi for questioning.” The gathered angels started muttering their protests, but Cariel held up one hand to silence them.
“Now?”
“Immediately.” Bartholomew glanced at the gathered choir with only a touch of nervousness in his grace-he was outnumbered and alone-but Cariel simply smiled at him and nodded down to Barachiel, who returned the gesture. Barachiel would watch over the choir while Cariel was being questioned.
“Then lead the way.” Without any sign of resistance, Cariel gestured for Bartholomew to leave first. Bartholomew reached out and seized Cariel’s wrist before folding his grace through Heaven and dragging Cariel along with him. He rematerialized in Michael’s tower, in front of Naomi.
“Thank you, Bartholomew.” Naomi was waiting in her interrogation room, a very slightly softer version of Alastair’s torture chamber. The chair, at least, was padded, but the room was still blindingly white and sterile. Cariel eyed the restraints on the chair and tried not to let his unease show. “You may go.”
Bartholomew blinked out of existence, and Naomi turned to Cariel, her hands folded calmly in front of her. “Hello, Cariel. It has been a very long time since you last came by for a visit.”
“I saw no reason to visit someone who’d turn on me as completely as you had. You know that.” Cariel stepped over to Naomi’s table, examining her instruments of torture. They were so much like Alastair’s, though they weren’t quite as pointy all over. Cariel had always suspected Alastair had intentionally made his tools look scarier than they needed to be. “Please note,” he said quickly, turning back to his partner, “that this observation is made based on the history between the two of us and has nothing to do with Gabriel’s current actions, nor does it reflect on the current mentality of the choir.”
“Duly noted. I still don’t see why you hold that trial against me, though. I was simply adhering to our pre-arranged plan. It’s been thousands of years, Cariel. Haven’t you forgiven me yet?”
“No,” Cariel answered. “And I very likely never will. That plan involved Michael and Gabriel’s participation in the trial. You’re damn lucky I was able to get us out of any sort of permanent punishment.”
“Cariel…”
“No.” Cariel turned his back on Naomi. “But I’m not here to discuss the past. I’m here to be tortured.”
They could call it questioning all they wanted, but Cariel knew Naomi’s garrisons were no kinder than Alastair’s when it came right down to it. Nothing Cariel said would be trusted in this room. Naomi would shove her way into his mind and rip the truth out from his thoughts and memories.
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Naomi sighed. “We aren’t torturers, Cariel. We are inquisitors.”
“Pretty it up however you want. We both know the truth.” Cariel squared his jaw and strode over to Naomi’s chair, taking a seat before he could lose his nerve. Last time he was in one of these, Alastair was trying to implant false memories into his mind so he could be accused of treason and executed. It took a lot of trust to voluntarily submit for such an ‘inquisition,’ trust Cariel didn’t have. He was attempting to make up for it with false courage. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“As you wish.” Naomi reached for one of the restraints, but Cariel pulled his arm away.
“Is that really necessary? I got in the chair without even being asked!”
Naomi gave Cariel a flat look, grabbing his wrist and forcing it down to the armrest. “It is. For safety reasons.”
“Whose safety?” Cariel asked, not resisting as Naomi shackled his other arm.
“Yours.” The younger Seraph picked up a drill from her table and looked back at Cariel. There was something almost sad in her eyes. “This is going to hurt.”
By the time Naomi had finished, Cariel’s voice had given out from screaming and he was limp in the chair, his body aching where he had strained against the cuffs holding him down. If he hadn’t been restrained, he probably would have tried to claw his own head off. His entire spirit hurt, and his wings fluttered weakly against the back of the chair. Naomi was all business as she unbuckled the cuffs, but she didn’t offer to help Cariel to his feet.
Cariel didn’t attempt to get up. He was weak, drained all over, but there was a thread of triumph in his grace that he couldn’t quash. Naomi hadn’t found anything incriminating in Cariel’s memories, because he hadn’t had any. The only warning Gabriel had given Cariel was his odd behavior just minutes before he left, his unusual calm, and that memory he had restored. Cariel genuinely had been innocent in Gabriel’s escape, and he genuinely had no idea where his Archangel might have run to.
“Naomi…” The Seraph grunted his partner’s name as he tried to make himself sit upright. “Naomi, the choir…”
“What about them?” Naomi was cleaning her tools off, setting her workspace back to order.
“They’re innocent.” Cariel closed his eyes and shook his head, needing a moment to recover just from that movement. “I knew the most, and I didn’t even… they will stay loyal to Heaven, if given a chance. Tell Michael… they deserve a chance. They’re good angels.”
“I have no control over Michael.” There was a trace of bitterness in Naomi’s voice, a recollection of the short time when she had held one of the most exalted positions of an Archangel’s second in command. “I can’t tell him anything.”
“You’ll report to him on this.” Cariel gestured weakly between them. “Put it in your report. Make a recommendation. They’re innocent. Punish me if you have to, but not them. They didn’t know anything.”
“It’s not my place-”
“Naomi, please!” Michael and Raphael wouldn’t listen to him. Cariel had to get Naomi to vouch for Gabriel’s choir if he wanted even a chance of sparing them all this. “There are thousands of them, of our little brothers. Our innocent little brothers.”
“I can’t tell Michael anything,” Naomi repeated, glaring over her shoulder at Cariel. The older Seraph sagged back into the chair, and Naomi sighed, setting down her drill, “but I’ll include a recommendation,” she conceded. “There were no red flags in your mind.”
“Thank you,” Cariel breathed.
Naomi made a frustrated noise and snapped her fingers. Moments later, Bartholomew appeared beside her. “Return Cariel to Gabriel’s tower. Put him in his office.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bartholomew bowed to Naomi before seizing Cariel’s arm and folding through Heaven.
Cariel was grateful to be in familiar territory again, and even more grateful when Bartholomew left him alone. Barachiel burst in a few minutes later, quick to close the door behind him. “I felt your return! Are you all right?” He rushed to Cariel’s side, touching his grace to the older Seraph’s and feeding him strength.
Cariel wrapped an arm around Barachiel’s shoulders and dragged him down to join him in the big chair. Bartholomew was unwelcome, but Barachiel’s soft grace was a balm against his strained spirit. “Drained,” he answered, “but alive. For now. She didn’t find anything incriminating. Gabriel did that right, at least.”
“What’s going to happen now?” Barachiel asked.
“I don’t know,” Cariel answered honestly, turning against his brother’s side. “I don’t have any clues.”
“You were very confident when addressing the choir.”
Cariel laughed harshly. “That was a huge line of bullshit, Barachiel. I was making it up as I went along.”
“I thought you might have been,” Barachiel admitted, “but I hoped you weren’t.”
“No.” Cariel closed his eyes and shuddered. “I have no idea what happens next.”
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