Chapter 7: Overgrown Seagull, Stick up the Butt, Michael the Archangel
We arrived at the forested outskirts of Pandemonium's border at half-past twelve. I fought back a yawn, surrounded by thick, beautifully colored trunks that shone even in the moonlight. Their bark was colorful: deep reds, purples, and greens, even a rare blue or yellow, all mixed with brown in a natural grain The leaves were already tinged by fall, dusky golds and reds, and strange birds sounded through the night. I shivered at a particularly shrill cry.
"What was that?" I said.
Damien, lighting the way with a lantern, shook his head. "A Lilin. One of Lilith's brood. They prey on travelers lost in the woods. Half-man, half-owl, and altogether gruesome."
I glanced at Samael, who glided after me, dressed in his Grim Reaper robe. "Your ex-girlfriend doesn't sound very nice," I observed.
Samael scoffed. "Who, Lilith? Of course not. She's the mother of sin. Then again, I'm the father of it."
I twisted my lip. "And that's something you're proud of?"
He seemed to consider his answer. "There's value in questioning. That's what I taught Eve to do." Samael glanced up at the moon sailing high above us. "Lilith is many things, but above all, she is free-spirited. Even I couldn't hold her down."
"It's here," Damien said, taking a whiff of the air as if scenting the trail of prey. He set his lantern down at the base of a towering, silvery oak. He palmed a whorl in the bark, and the trunk glowed at his touch. "This is it. The closed portal to my home." His voice rung with emotion.
Samael put a hand on Damien's shoulder. "Thank you. I know this isn't easy for you."
Damien shook his head. "To think, that I could see my old villa again. It's too strange to imagine."
I stood rooted to my spot, unsure. "So, um, what do I do?"
Samael's ice blue eyes met mine. "First, summon your petersword."
I kissed my necklace's charm. "Okay, now what?"
"Touch the point to the whorl in the oak tree, and twist."
The tip of my petersword met the rough bark. I twisted it, unsure.
A column of light shot up from the oak's base, enveloping the tree. It shimmered like a geyser, and the cloudy outline of a doorway appeared.
"Well that was unexpected," I said, lowering my sword.
Damien fell to his knees, crying out in Italian. "Thank Lupa," he finally said, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. He rose slowly from the ground, turning to look at me as if I was on fire. "Shannon, you are a blessing," he said.
I blushed. "I wouldn't go that far."
"No," Samael said, "You are the harbinger of a new age."
I was silenced by that. I stared at the glowing portal. "So," I slowly said, "do we go through or what?"
On the other side of the doorway was an olive grove atop a cliff by the sea. It was day, and sea spray wafted up to us, the salt biting my nose. I gasped at the beauty of the Mediterranean hills. Islands dotted the horizon, and Damien kissed the ground, running his hands through the soil. He seemed to be praying to the gods, naming deities like Diana and Selene.
Samael laughed. "It worked," he said. "It really worked."
I leaned against an olive tree. I reached up and plucked one of the ripe globes from the branches, weighed it in my hand, then chucked it into the ocean. It crested over scree and plummeted into a wave. "Nice place."
Damien rose from the ground, his face filled with reverence. "Thank you," he breathed.
I nodded. "No problem." I was made uncomfortable by the werewolf's display of emotion.
Damien's eyes were misty. "I'd like to go see my villa. Please give me half an hour at most."
"Sure," I said. I twisted my feet in the rich soil.
Suddenly, there was a crack of bones, and Damien doubled over. Fur sprouted over his body, springing through his skin, and his face elongated, teeth sharpening.
I screamed.
Samael steadied me. "It's fine, he's just shifting."
I watched in morbid fascination. The transformation was grotesque. Within moments Damien was half-man, half-wolf, with the same glowing, golden eyes. He gave a feral grin and took off, disappearing into the brush.
"Do you know where he's going?" I asked, curious.
Samael scratched his chin. "Absolutely no idea."
We mulled around for half an hour, chatting. Samael grilled me about my artistic ability, and I admitted I was working on a painting of my interpretation of Phenex:
"I know he's not literally a peacock, but I'm playing with light in the painting, trying to incorporate solar imagery into the work," I said.
"No, he's pretty much a peacock, albeit golden and orange," Samael said.
Something disturbed the underbrush. I looked to see that Damien, in werewolf form, had returned. He grinned, revealing sharp teeth, and transformed back into his human form.
Damien was wistful. "If only I could stay here. But I can feel my vitality dwindling – I guess that's what happens when an immortal is far away from humanity." He sighed and looked to the Reaper. "Samael, is it possible to realign the doorway between Earth and Pan's woods?"
Samael scratched his brow. "It would take work, that's for sure." He scrutinized me. I flinched under his calculating gaze. "But with an ascendant, many things are possible."
Damien smiled quietly. "Let's go. I've got a security detail to run."
I went to an olive tree with a large whorl in its bark that Samael pointed out, pressed my petersword to it, and opened the portal. We crossed over to Pandemonium's border, with Samael leading the way. He stopped dead in his tracks, and I bumped into him, stubbing my toe.
"Ow!" I yelped. "What is it?" I squinted in the darkness to see.
Samael ignored me. "Beelzebub's balls, literally this time," he said. "What are you doing here?"
In the glow of the strange, blue fireflies that hovered in the canopy, I could make out the white-haired demon from Damien's bar. Beelzebub's fly wings glistened in the moonlight, and his eyes simmered. "Coming to get you for the midnight toast at Asmodeus'. I was hoping to discuss business with you afterward – there's a backup of souls in the Styx due to you neglecting your reaper duties – but apparently, you've been busy." Beelzebub's eyed me coldly. "I saw her summon a portal. Your supposed concubine is an ascendant, and you've kept it from the archdemons. I knew you were selfish, but something of this magnitude – no, I shouldn't have put it past you."
Samael balled his hands into fists. "It has nothing to do with selfishness," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm trying to keep her safe."
"From me?" Beelzebub's lips curled. "Asmodeus and the others, I can understand. But Samael, I'm your right hand man, your general. I guard your back during war and serve you in times of peace. Surely you don't suspect me of ulterior motives."
"We all have ulterior motives," Samael said. "And I do trust you. But Shannon's the only hope we have. If she's lost, Hell is lost. I've waited a long time for an ascendant."
Beelzebub tucked his hands into his pockets. "Then let me help."
"Wait," I said. "How is Hell lost without me?"
Beelzebub narrowed his eyes. "Our politics don't concern you. All that matters is that you obey us."
I crossed my arms. "Hey, fly eyes? I'm not going to help you if you're an ass."
Beelzebub buzzed with irritation. "You're a tool. Nothing more. Be grateful you're not in shackles."
"Suck a carcass, you oversized flea," I said. I launched at him, aiming to place a well-deserved slap on his face.
Samael restrained me. "See why I didn't introduce you two properly?" he said.
Beelzebub stepped forward, a hair's breadth from me. I struggled against Samael's grip. The red-eyed demon smiled thinly, daring to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "The only carcass I'll be feeding on is yours if you so much as lay a hand on me," he said. "I am Baal Zebub, lord of souls. I can keep you alive until you're slivers of flesh, or grind your bones down to salt my meat."
I spat in his face. "I don't care who you are. No one talks to me like I'm less than them."
Samael dragged me away from him. "Beel, what the hell? That's no way to treat an ascendant."
Damien growled: "Lay a hand on Shannon and I'll sic my pack on you."
Beelzebub's lips curled. He looked at Samael and Damien with disapproval. "If we put her on a pedestal, she will turn on us. All this girl is is a means to an end." He straightened his jacket. "I will help her, but do not expect me to respect her. Humans have caused us enough grief throughout the millennia."
"We've caused you grief? We're not the ones that enslave humans!" I said. "How many Claimed do you have, Beelzebub?"
"None," the fly-demon said. "The practice disgusts me. I have no desire to associate with the race that defiled Earth."
"You're the demon, not me."
Beelzebub's eyes burned. "Did we dredge a hole in the ozone layer? Destroy the natural beauty of your planet? Endanger hundreds of species and spoil your God-given heritage? I think not. My Father gave you all, and your kind treated His gifts like an arrogant child." Beelzebub checked his watch. "Lecturing this girl on the past is a waste of my time. Call me when you need me. I have to drive my wife home." And with that, Beelzebub dissolved into a swarm of flies and darted off into the woods.
Samael released me. "Who would marry that jerk?" I said.
Samael snorted. "Astaroth. They're disgustingly enamored." Death smoothed his hair. "I'm sorry for the way he treated you. Beelzebub has an inherent distrust of humans. Mostly because they swat so many of his flies."
Damien ground his fist into his palm. "I can't stand that insect. Samael, you have horrible taste in friends."
"True, but what does that say about you?" Samael paused. "Actually, don't answer that." He turned to me. "It's been a long night. Let's get you home."
"But am I safe? Now that that creep knows I'm an ascendant?" I said.
"Who? Beel?" Samael asked. "Oh, you're fine. He's all bark and no bite. It's past his bedtime, that's why he's so vicious."
I was highly skeptical of that, but bit back my words. We returned to Samael's mansion, minus Damien, and I changed into my clothes and traveled back to Trothman Hall.
It was jarring, returning to an early Virginian evening from a late night in Hell. I wiped sweat from my brow and made my way to my dorm, guided by the swollen moon. Rosanna was strumming chords on Vibora, her electric guitar, when I entered the room. She glanced up from the fret board, smiling.
"Hey. You look angry. Something wrong?" my roommate said as she finger-picked a melody.
I sighed, sinking into my plush pink chair. "It's nothing. I just met a jerk in the, erm, woods."
"Oh, on the trails you go running on every night?"
"Um, sure. He's so arrogant. I wanted to smack him."
Rosanna's lips curled in distaste. "Ew, was he a frat bro? Is that why he had such attitude?"
"I… don't know. Whatever, it doesn't matter – he's gone. Let me listen to you play." I nodded, encouraging her.
Rosanna adjusted the tension of the strings. "Sure. It's about La Llorona – the weeping ghost."
"That's a light topic."
Rosanna shrugged. "You know I'm into creepy stories." She picked a haunting arpeggio, letting her voice fill the room. The song was in Spanish, and though I could barely understand it, it was beautiful. After a few minutes, Rosanna finished. She smiled shyly. "So, what did you think?"
"It was gorgeous, as always." In truth, I was blown away. "So, do you believe in ghost stories? I thought it was just a hobby of yours."
Rosanna took the shoulder strap of her guitar off and unplugged Vibora from its amp. Gingerly, she hung it on the wall. "Well," she said slowly, "you know my abuela was into folk healing, and I saw some odd things around her, back when my family used to visit her in Mexico. So I don't know. Are ghosts real? Maybe. I just like the idea of them." Rosanna unzipped her leather boots and flopped onto her unmade bed. "What do you think?"
I paused. If death incarnate was real, what about ghosts? "I don't know. Maybe we become something else when we die."
"Hmm," Rosanna said. "I guess that makes sense. You know, my mother always said my abuelo haunted our house. She claimed he played with the radio and whistled at night. I never saw him, but I did hear the whistling-"
There was an urgent knock on the door.
"Come in," I called.
Divya entered, breathless. She trembled. "I saw something in the woods," she said. "I – I don't know what it was. It looked like a big dog, but it had red eyes." She laughed faintly. "I sound crazy, don't I?"
I paled. "Was it black?"
She nodded. "How did you know?"
"Because I've seen them before," I said. "Where were you in the woods?"
"Out – out by the lake. I'm scared. What if I'm hallucinating?" Divya twirled a silver ring around her finger, anxious.
"You're not," I said.
Rosanna rose from her bed. "Whoa, it sounds like a cadejo," she said. "Some say they're devils. They look like black dogs."
"You know about them?" I asked, surprised.
"My mom used to tell stories about the cadejo. They all ended badly." Rosanna's eyes glimmered. "You've seen them before, Shannon?"
I quickly lied. "Um, yeah. In a movie."
Rosanna grabbed a flashlight from her desk. "We have to go find it!" she said. "Let's try to take a picture with our phones."
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.
Divya was sitting on my bed, staring out the window in shock. "It smelled like sulfur and blood," she said. "I've never been so scared in my life."
"We'll be fine if we have this," Rosanna assured her, fingering the cross around her neck. "C'mon, it'll be exciting, like hunting Bigfoot."
"I really think we should stay here," I said.
"Fine, you guys can stay, but I'm going to go look for it." Rosanna zipped up her boots and slipped on a jacket.
"You don't know what those things can do!" I said.
Rosanna looked at me oddly. "I thought you said you just saw them in a movie. What are you going on about?"
I fumed. "I – I did. Look, I'll go with you, but only so you don't get lost in the woods like I did."
Divya shivered. "I don't want to be alone. I'll come with you guys and show you where it was."
"Are you sure?" I said.
Divya rose from the bed, forcing a smile. "It was probably just my imagination."
And that was how we ended up in the woods tracking a hellhound. My palms sweat, and I glanced around, waiting for the hound's telltale howl. I didn't let go of the petersword around my neck. Rosanna hummed to herself, flicking her flashlight around, trying to find the beast's tracks. Divya tailed us, silent.
We were in the thick of the woods, far from the trail, when Rosanna stopped short. "Whoa," she breathed. Illuminated by her flashlight was a paw print the size of a dinner plate. She knelt to examine it. "Is the cadejo real? No way. I was just kidding!"
Divya shuddered. "I wasn't imagining it."
"Happy, Rosanna? Can we go now?" I asked.
"Yeah," Rosanna said, "Let's jam."
A low growl interrupted her. I turned around to see a sinewy hellhound staring back at me, bloody foam on its muzzle. It licked its lips and sprung forward. We screamed.
"Run!" I yelled, bringing the key charm to my lips. My petersword grew to sword-size and I assumed a defensive position, brandishing the blade against the monster. I cut the hellhound's front leg, and a tendon snapped. It yipped, its blood spurting onto my feet.
Divya tripped on a root. She fell to the ground.
"We're not leaving you, Shannon," Rosanna said. She helped Divya up. "Why the hell do you have a sword?"
"Long story," I said. The hellhound loped toward me. "Stay back." I darted to the left and blocked the hellhound's path. Baring its fangs, it made for my throat. I hacked at its neck, drawing a shallow cut. It whimpered and backed away, only to circle us.
My mind reeled as adrenaline kicked in. The oversized dog zeroed in on me. A low rumble came from its throat as it limped forward.
"You don't scare me, Clifford," I said.
Regardless of my bravado, the hellhound lunged toward me. All it took was a misstep - a sword slice in the wrong direction - and its teeth were in my shoulder.
It throttled me. I heard bone snap. My friends screamed my name, but all I could hear was the satisfied crunch of the hellhound. It dropped me to the ground, and I lay there crying, clutching my ruined collarbone. The beast put its paw on my neck and applied pressure, trying to snap my spine.
Vision hazy, I could barely make out the flurry of white and gold that descended from a patch of sky. The hellhound squealed, releasing me as a great volley of air ripped at its fur. It quaked in what appeared to be fear. I struggled to turn my neck, but all I could see were two pairs of sandaled feet and the tips of feathery wings – one plumage ivory, the other like the sun.
"Help," I gasped as hot blood poured down my shoulder. The pain was like a hammer to my brain. I couldn't move my injured arm, only struggle to drag myself away from the hellhound on my unbroken limbs.
Soft hands scooped me up, and I was immersed in an ethereal glow. The face I looked up at was bright, too bright, like the heart of a star. After a moment, the molten fire of the being's skin cooled to a golden tan. A button nose, sleek black hair, and slanted eyes crinkled in a smile.
"Who are you?" I choked.
Golden wings wrapped round me and gentle fingers glided over my wound. "No one special," came a voice like a bell. My wound pulsed hot, and before my eyes, the flesh knitted together, bone shifting back into place. "There. Your shoulder will ache for a while, but it's a lot less of an eyesore, right?"
I glanced to my friends, only to have my view blocked by a towering angel with silvery wings and hair like blood. He was dressed in a golden tunic and had apparently brought a sword of flame down upon the hellhound's neck, slicing it clean off. The angel was cleaning the volcanic sword on his pants, where it left streaks of gore, but no fire.
"You girls do this often?" the blood-haired angel asked. His voice was like thunder.
"N – no," Divya stammered from behind him.
The angel with the sword crossed himself with his weapon and whispered a word. The hellhound's corpse disintegrated into ash. He sheathed his blade at his back. "Gabriel, how's the injured one?"
"In shock, but otherwise fine," the angel holding me said. She set me down gingerly. I reeled back.
"You're Gabriel?" I sputtered. "As in the angel of the Annunciation?"
The healing angel, who looked like the heavenly messenger in the Japanese ink drawings of the Virgin Mary's revelation I had seen in the Smithsonian once, smiled. "The very one. And, because I know you're going to ask, that's Michael – I've never been able to figure out if his hair's a terrible dye job or not."
"It's natural," Michael said. He helped a shocked Rosanna and Divya to their feet. "Now, do you three chase hellhounds for fun, or were you sent by someone?" His nostrils flared as his gaze settled on me. "You smell like you crawled out of a hellhole."
I wiped sweaty bangs from my forehead. "I kind of did," I said. "And we're here of our own, admittedly stupid, free will."
"We didn't think the cadejo actually existed!" Rosanna said rapidly. "I thought my friend just imagined it or something." She clicked her flashlight on and off, then took a deep breath. "But more importantly, how is this real? I mean, you two are angels, right? Or did we die and go to Heaven?"
"I'm not even supposed to go to Heaven," Divya said faintly. "I'm Hindu."
Gabriel laughed. "Don't worry. You're alive." She toyed with the fringe of her cyan robe. "But you almost weren't. What were you girls thinking? You have a petersword, so you obviously came prepared. Are you Claimed?" she asked gently. "Because we can help you if you are."
Rosanna and Divya glanced at each other in confusion.
"No, we're not," I said.
"Then how did you get such a rare weapon?" said Michael, his voice cool. He nudged my petersword into a pile of leaves with his sandal.
I blushed, terrified at the idea of lying to an angel.
Michael focused on me. "We're not here to hurt you," the archangel said slowly, as if coaxing a wild animal.
I shifted, uncomfortable. The archangel was handsome, too handsome, as if carved by Michelangelo, and Gabriel – she was beyond compare. I felt like a wilted flower in their presences.
"I – I got it in Hell," I admitted, deciding that lying to an archangel was dangerous, despite their assurance of peace.
"Wait, you've been to Hell? You haven't even been to Disneyworld!" Rosanna said.
"Rosanna, be quiet!" Divya said.
Gabriel and Michael shared a knowing glance. "You're not Claimed, but you've been to the underworld?" Gabriel said.
I nodded, staring at my feet with determination.
"Are you Nephilim?" Michael asked quietly.
I looked up. "Am I what?"
"I guess not." Michael sighed, rubbing his temple. "Well, then. You're an anomaly, aren't you?"
Gabriel's eyes flashed. "Wait. The answer's staring us in the face."
Michael straightened his back. "What is it?"
Gabriel peered at me intently. "She's the ascendant. Why else would she be carrying a petersword or stink of Hell?"
"Samael," Michael groaned.
My skin prickled.
Michael muttered to himself. "That's why he was so chipper when we went boating in Miami. Damn wyrm."
"And why he drank so many margaritas," Gabriel said in realization. "Sam only drinks those when he's plotting something." She looked at me in concern. "Oh, you poor girl. What has he done to you? He hasn't made you listen to his saxophone, has he?" She asked the last question as if it were a punishment worse than death.
"Um, no," I said. "But he's been training me. Is he really that bad?"
"On the saxophone, yes. He's wretched," Michael said. He rubbed his temple. "And Samael's no better in other aspects. You're better off pulling your teeth out one by one than dealing with that pain-in-the-ass. But I suppose it could have been worse. You could have been found by Asmodeus and forced into his harem."
I shivered at the mention of the green-eyed demon.
"Samael's too lazy to do that," Gabriel said. "Anyways, only Lilith can stand him."
"And he's the only one that can stand her," Michael said.
"Excuse me, um, but, what are you going to do with us?" Divya said.
Gabriel glanced at Divya, a look of sympathy on her face. "You three have had a rough night. We're going to let you two go – I'm afraid you won't be able to speak of these events to anyone but each other. It's a precaution we take with mortals who have divine experiences. You'll find a frog in your throat any time you think of mentioning us or the hellhound." Gabriel placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "However, your friend has to stay."
"Shannon, will you be okay?" Rosanna said, exhaustion etched on her face.
"Yeah, you guys can go. I'll explain everything later."
Divya gazed at the two angels with wide eyes. "Thank you for saving us," she said.
"Our pleasure," Michael said. "Now, please promise me you won't go chasing after demons again. It will save everyone a headache."
"Never," Rosanna said. Holding each other, she and Divya disappeared into the darkness, sparing me a worried glance back. It seemed they wanted to stay, but didn't dare defy the archangels.
Michael reached into his pocket and took out a dated cell phone. He began to furiously text someone.
"How did you know where we were?" I said.
Gabriel's cheery expression waned. "Michael and I were on the trail of the hellhound thanks to Raziel's lead. Raziel's been absent lately, probably busy with his books, but he comes through when we need him. The hellhound we were tracking caught the scent of something interesting, so we decided to see where it led us. It was tracking you."
"But where did it come from?" I asked.
Michael sighed. "Samael might have told you about the current chaos in Hell, and the patchy border between the underworld and Earth. The same can be said for Heaven. The border between Heaven and Earth is riddled with heaven's gates – almost like someone's been tampering with it – and last month, a group of highly dangerous fallen angels were freed from Dudael and crossed over into Earth. They brought with them mercenaries and packs of hellhounds. Their leader must have sent a hound out to track the rumored ascendant. Metatron said the prophecy would come to fruition, but I never thought…"
"What prophecy?" I said.
Gabriel smiled like, well, an angel. "Oh, just one of Metatron's theories. He's chockful of them."
"Okay. But I still don't get how the hellhound found me. Samael's set up wards: he said he would protect me from anyone hunting me," I said. "How could he have missed this?"
Gabriel gave Michael a furtive glance. "We didn't tell Samael about this particular group's escape due to his fallen status," she said after a moment's pause.
"But wouldn't Samael know about their escape anyway? He's the ruler of Hell – how would they get past him?" I struggled to understand.
"Dudael isn't in Hell," Michael said. "It's under Heaven's jurisdiction, and its location is kept secret from demons, in case they get the urge to free their rebellious brethren."
I tried to imagine something worse than demons. "Who are they? The escaped fallen angels?"
Michael narrowed his eyes. "Beings you'll hopefully never meet."
Apparently the archangels had forgotten about the internet. I would be plugging 'Dudael' into a search engine as soon as I got back to my dorm. I nodded my head as if in understanding.
Gabriel crossed her arms behind her head. "Shannon – that's your name, right?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Shannon," she said, "Samael's dangerous. As an ascendant, any path you take will be entwined with immortals. But it doesn't have to make you a demon's tool. If you align yourself with Heaven, you could do a world of good."
My thoughts flashed to the tears in Damien's eyes when I'd opened a doorway to Pan's woods, his old home. Hadn't I already done good? "Would I be doing the same thing with you guys? Realigning the otherworlds with Earth?"
Gabriel inhaled sharply. "You're doing what?" she said after a pause.
Had I misspoke? "Um, Samael's been teaching me how to open portals. I – I thought that was a good thing."
Michael cursed. "That oily snake," he said. "If you realign Earth and the otherworlds, Heaven's reign will end."
Gabriel nodded. "For the last thousand years, give or take a few centuries, Heaven has been a shining beacon of peace, leading immortals into a new era of prosperity, united under the banner of a single God. Deities no longer war against each other for believers – they work alongside us, subjects of our Father. If you realign the otherworlds, there will be war. Utter chaos."
I gawked. "You're kidding me."
Michael shook his head, face grim. "It's true." His cell phone beeped. He flipped it open and frowned. "Samael's replied. He's coming now."
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone