Gods of Death

17 : By the Lake

Victor and Emma walked towards their counterparts with the relaxed air of colleagues approaching trusted colleagues. "Simon," called Emma, "Marzena."

The look that the male imp shot them was anything but trusting. Marzena, silent as before, seemed unconcerned.

"You took your f*****g time," Simon said. "We've been standing in this piss for a while."

"We haven't been dawdling. Blame the Gods and their transportation spell locations." Emma smiled sweetly. Victor smiled too, watching her and catching a glimpse of the near-transparent echo of her floating in the same space.

"Zadkiel is over there," he jerked his finger. "Because you p*****s are believed too s**t to kill him on your own, we have to help you." He looked down at Victor, "I don't credit you with Chamuel, just so you know."

Victor nodded understanding.

"Shall we walk then?" Victor asked, indicating for Marzena to go in front of him. Grunting, the woman started to move and together the four of them crossed the Welsh countryside.

"So, how have you been?" Emma asked casually, "It's been a while."

"Not really," Simon returned.

"Oh, for you maybe; time is relative, after all. We've killed three Archangels since we last saw you though, and that can make it feel quite lengthy."

Victor smiled at her none-too-subtle boast, designed to rile the other imp.

"We've been busy too, you know," said Simon.

"Doing what?" Emma's inquiry managed to straddle the point where the lines of condescension, innocent questioning, the insinuation of laziness and genuine interest all met. It was quite a skill.

"f**k off, Emma, I'm not telling you shit." Simon was obviously riled.

Emma smirked and returned to hover close to Victor, who by now was bringing up the rear.

They climbed for a while, passing sheep, occasional rocks, and clumps of thick grass in equal amounts. Eventually, they reached the summit of another hill and the view opened up to show a vast stretch of unblemished countryside.

"Pretty incredible," breathed Victor. He took in the scene and pointed down. At the edge of his vision, by the side of an impressive lake, stood a figure. Normally, Victor wouldn't have considered the lone man twice, but the halo of deep indigo light made him stand out as an angel. Victor knew him at once; the Archangel Zadkiel. "Down there," he whispered.

Marzena was already moving, scrambling down the slope with practised precision. Her feet found grip on the grassy bank and she went rapidly down the side of the hill without making a sound. Simon followed.

"f**k," said Emma with a sigh. "We have to follow them, come on."

Victor was not as graceful as the polish woman as he navigated the slope, but his training and recent experiences had left him physically fit and he managed to keep his breathing regular and low as he moved towards the lake.

Rydia had been convinced they would find suitable water, and they had. The lake held still like an enormous oval mirror beneath them. "You go ahead," Victor whispered to Emma, "you both need to be ready."

Emma nodded and tucked her wings behind her to effect a shallow dive. She sped down the hill towards the goal, passing the others on the way with a casual wave. Simon snorted but otherwise ignored her.

Moments later, Marzena leapt from the bank, her dark mace flashing in the morning rain as she brought it down on Zadkiel without warning. Victor was still too far to see clearly, but it seemed as if the blow struck the Archangel in the shoulder and caused him to stagger. Purple light flared as his halo came fully to life, and Zadkiel twisted out of the way of a second attack.

Simon and Marzena focused on the Archangel, but in the corner of his eye, Victor could see Emma hovering above the lake, scattering a sprinkling of tiny pink petals across the lake.

As Victor reached the flat ground and broke into a run, Rydia flew missile-like out of the lake. In a swift motion, she wrapped her arms around Simon, her wings around them both and then curled into a ball, falling back down into the water as rapidly as she had exited it. Emma spun, clapping her hands as she watched the eleven-year-old angel pull the evil imp into the lake.

Marzena didn't miss a beat, despite the loss of her companion. She swung the mace with liquid motion through the air, pounding the spiked ball against Zadkiel's wings, now held like shields around his body. Blood and feathers filled the air.

"Victor!" Emma screeched, "You can't let her kill him!"

Victor's run slowed as he drew his long jewelled sword. The blade cut through the air and into Marzena's side, her eyes showing the shock as the man she believed would help her against her foe instead joined the Archangel against her. Her armour clattered onto the ground as she fell, her body already decaying as it dropped.

Victor turned to Zadkiel who was yet to lift a hand against anyone. "This isn't finished," he said. He moved to a fighting stance in front of the angel and indicated for the other to defend himself.

Zadkiel opened his wings wide. They were in tatters, bone smashed and splintered from Marzena's relentless attack.

"Why do you do this?" the Archangel asked calmly. He did not wear the armour of his peers, but a soft cream tunic and brown trousers.

"I have no choice," Victor said, wishing he didn't have to keep justifying himself to his victims. He sliced the sword towards the angel who jumped backwards defensively. "And she will be back soon?"

"The woman?" Zadkiel shook his head slowly, "Your weapon of evil saw to that. Even in her eternal state, she had no chance. She is done, and will not return."

"No Taint?" Victor asked.

Zadkiel looked confused, as if the term meant nothing to him.

"No returning from Hell, no loss of soul, no continued f*****g t*****e?" Victor qualified.

Zadkiel shook his head and pointed to the blade. "Not from that, not ever."

Victor paused, thinking. "Not for anyone?" he asked carefully, "Even the more powerful, even the divine?"

"You are using it to hunt down Archangels," Zadkiel commented slowly, "Its power is not minor."

"Not me?" Victor asked suddenly, turning the blade so it pointed towards his foot.

Zadkiel darted forward as Victor drove the sword down.