End of Days (Penryn & the End of Days 3)

‘Awkward,’ says Cyclone, already walking toward Thermo.

‘You think I’d do something to risk a fall?’ asks Raffe.

‘You can’t fall for anything you do here, Commander,’ says Thermo. ‘You’re already in the Pit, so technically, it’s equivalent to being in a Fallen state during the time you’re here.’

The heat intensifies in my cheeks, and I want to crawl behind a rock.

Raffe looks like he wants to be stubborn but then says, ‘Fine, but you’d better bring back a bunch of hellions, Howler.’

‘You can count on it, boss.’ Howler throws us a broad wink, and takes off into the air. Cyclone and Thermo fly after him.

The rest of the Watchers take off in small groups, each taking different directions. It’s a wonder that they can still fly on their mangy wings. I guess there’s nothing functionally wrong with the wings since they fly expertly. It’s just that they’re not pretty to look at.

Raffe watches them go, then looks at me. ‘Shall we go for a ride and see what the place looks like?’

I nod, trying not to look embarrassed.

I step closer to Raffe. I’ll never get used to stepping into his arms.

Instead of putting his arm under my knees, he holds me up with his arms around my waist, with us facing each other in a hug. With a couple of sweeps of his wings, we take off.

I have my arms around his neck, but my legs are dangling. I don’t feel as secure as I normally do when he holds me with his arms behind my back and below my knees. I instinctively slide my knees around his middle and squeeze for a better hold.

But that’s not enough. As we go higher, I can feel myself sliding just a little. His arms around my waist are firm, but as we rise above the Sea of Killing Hands, I feel an equal mix of excitement and fear.

‘Don’t drop me.’ I cling tighter and press myself up against him a little more.

‘Never.’ There’s so much confidence and assurance in his voice. ‘I have you. You’re as secure as can be.’

Oh, what the hell. I wrap my legs completely around his hips and hook my feet across his butt.

He tilts his body forward a little with a smile spreading across his face. My cheeks flame.

Now I’m hanging on like a monkey as we glide over the Pit. I can’t see as well as I’d be able to if he had been holding me the other way. Instead of looking over his shoulder at his sweeping wings, I turn my head to see the landscape below. That puts my face almost lip to lip with his.

I try to focus on the smoldering city ahead of us, but my head is filled with the warmth of his breath and the electric tingle of his cheek against mine.

Flying is not as smooth a glide as it might look from below. There’s a subtle shifting of our bodies as his wings push against the air. I’m hanging on to him so tightly that I begin to notice that he’s rubbing against me with every whoosh of his wings.

The heat in the Pit is becoming more intense. The Sea of Hands below shifts and moves like currents of lava flowing over each other.

The rubbing is causing a warm, tingly sensation, as if all my blood is rushing to the parts of my body that are pressed against him. My head begins to feel light. My breathing comes faster.

His breath speeds up to match mine, or maybe it’s the other way around. Before I know it, he’s nuzzling his head against my cheek. A low moan escapes his lips.

I shift without thinking, tightening my legs around his hips, pressing myself against him. He strokes the curve of my back, pressing me even closer to his warmth. I marvel at the sensation as he subtly shifts his body against mine.

He lowers his head while we’re flying and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is hot and wet as it intensifies.

My head seems to be rumbling. Then I realize it’s the sky. It’s thunder. Suddenly, warm raindrops fall on us, spraying us until we’re completely wet.

Raffe ignores it and continues to kiss me. We hold each other, pressing tighter and harder together.

We fly in each other’s arms in the rain over a smoldering hell.

43

By the time we get back to the group, the Watchers have caught the rest of the hellions that we’ll need. A dozen hellions are tied up on the ground, flapping around and trying to gnaw through the thongs that tie them.

The Watchers eye us like they know what we’ve been up to. As soon as we land, I hop off and step away from Raffe. I’m glad it’s so hot that I won’t have to explain why my face is so red.

Raffe immediately gets down to business. He explains what needs to be done to ride a hellion out of the Pit and what we might find on the other side. He doesn’t seem at all embarrassed that they assume we made out.

He then talks to the hellions. ‘Take us to the other side.’ He motions along Pooky’s blade and uses his hand to show a sliding motion into the sky.

A hellion hisses at him, all sharp teeth and hate.

Cyclone steps forward. ‘They need a firm hand, Commander.’ He looms over the hellions. ‘Do what we tell you, or you die.’ He makes a tearing motion with his hands.

A hellion pisses at him, squirting a yellow-green stream of foul-smelling liquid that Cyclone barely avoids.

The other hellions seem to snicker. Cyclone leans in, looking like he’s going to strangle them, but Raffe stops him.

I step forward. Let’s see how they respond if they’re treated like I would want to be in their place.

‘Freedom,’ I say.

The hellions look sideways at me.

‘Escape.’ I crouch down to look at them at their level. They watch me with distrust, but they’re listening. ‘No more Pit lords. No more masters. Be free.’ I do the sliding motion along my sword the way Raffe did earlier.

The hellions begin chattering among themselves, as if arguing.

‘Take us with you.’ I point to me and the others. ‘Be free.’ I motion along my sword into the sky again. ‘With you.’ I point to them.

More chatter.

Then they quiet down.

The one in the center nods at us.

My eyes open wide. It worked. One by one, the Watchers nod in my direction with respect in their eyes.

Raffe doesn’t go into the details of Beliel’s involvement with Uriel or with his wings. In fact, he doesn’t even say who the gateway Watcher is. He just says that it’s one of them.

‘Think long and hard about this,’ says Raffe. ‘We’ve always taken pride in never leaving one of us behind. You can stay here together and I’ll find another way to beat Uriel. Or you can come with us, but one of you must stay behind. Isolation is the worst thing that can happen to an angel. You think it’s bad now? It’ll be a hundred times worse when you’re alone, knowing that all your fellow soldiers made it out and left you here. You’ll become twisted, angry, vindictive, vengeful. You’ll become someone you wouldn’t recognize.’

He stares at the squirming hellions tied on the ground. ‘And for that, I’m sorry. I see now my role in it.’

He looks at every Watcher around him. ‘For the rest of you, remember that your families won’t be there anymore. Your Daughter of Man, your children – they’ll all be gone. If this is successful, we’re going to a different time, a different place. We’ll land in the middle of a war. But it’ll be a war where some of the fighters might have your blood in their veins.’

The Watchers look at each other as though trying to process that. I’m having trouble with it myself. Some of us could be their descendants.

They all look at each other, understanding that the gateway Watcher could be any of them.

Beliel is the first to nod. There’s naked hope in his face. ‘I’d do anything – risk anything – for a chance to have the yellow sun on our faces again.’

I clamp down hard on the sympathy that’s blooming for him. I run through the litany of his crimes – my sister, the murders, Raffe’s wings, his part in turning humans into monsters – I list all the names and faces that I knew at Alcatraz.

One by one, the Watchers nod grimly. Each prepared to take the risk.

We don’t tell Beliel that he’s the one until the very last second.

When Beliel finds out it’s him, his face freezes. It’s disturbing to think of someone gazing out into nothing when he has no eyes. The only sign of life from him is his chest pumping in and out as his breathing gets heavier.

The Watchers are somber. Each of them touches Beliel’s shoulder until he flings Thermo’s hand off him. After that, everyone quietly grabs a hellion.

Beliel stands alone in a circle of the only friends he had in his life. He jerks when I prick him with my sword.

Raffe gives the command to the hellions to jump through.

The Watcher-ridden hellions leap at Beliel. He stands frozen, as if electrified, while the hellions fly into him.

Raffe is the first to go so he can usher the Watchers who are sure to be disoriented when they arrive on the other side. I am the last to go so that I can hold the sword and keep the gateway open until we’re all through.

By the end, Beliel is on his knees, his empty eye sockets shut tight and his teeth clenched. There’s shock, but there’s anguish too, even though he volunteered. They all volunteered.

But I’m sure that’s little comfort. Everyone else is making it out of the Pit and leaving him behind. To suffer alone for what will seem like eternity to him.

Alone and unwanted.

Probably for the first time in his life.

I run through the litany of his crimes again as I ride my hellion into the gate that is Beliel.

44

Going into the Pit was like falling. Getting out of the Pit is like being dragged through a vat of Vaseline. It’s as if the air itself is trying to push me back. I cling to my hellion as tightly as I can. I don’t even want to think about what happens if I can’t hold on.

I pop out into cramped quarters, feeling covered in goop even though there’s nothing physically on me. I should be back in my world, my time if everything went as planned. Raffe made it clear to the hellions that they would be free only if they brought us to our own where and when, but you never know.

Instead of jumping out through the portal and onto firm ground, I end up smashing against something hard. There’s enough light to see that I’m shoved against the dashboard of a truck.