From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen) (31 page)

His eyelids fluttered and closed, and he fell forward into Marylza’s
waiting arms.

* * *

Riell was exhausted.

Azule had taught her to use her Inner meticulously to avoid overusing
energy for applications that only required minute amounts for proper
performance. He revealed the presence of residual Inner left in crafted
objects: for the very act of creation leaves trace elements of Inner. He showed
her how to tap into those elements and bolster them with her own Inner.

After that he showed her an exercise to become a potent psychic. Riell
would release controlled telekinetic blasts, lighter ones at first and ending
with heavier. He told her to repeat her workout once a week. She subjected
herself to the meticulous psychic prodding of Azule, who found her mental blind
spots for her: weak areas that could be subdued by a psychic assault.

Riell sat in meditation to cleanse her mind and body. Her prismatic wings
cloaked her body. Riell’s black hair billowed around her as Inner coursed
through her body, revitalizing her. Her eyes flinched.

I thought I felt Drean panic for a second, but how is that even
possible when I wasn’t even concentrating on him?
Dread outweighed her
calm, and soon she could not hold it back any longer. She attempted to find
Drean and connect with his mind.

Drean! Are you all right!

There was no reply, no return connection.

He’s unconscious...
Riell opened her eyes and stood up. Azule was
in front of her.

“I have to go, sir, I apologize,” she said, and gave him a low bow. She
looked into his face, saw strain there and knew something was not right. Riell
placed a barrier over her thoughts, so he would not be able to read them.

“I’m afraid not, Riell.” Azuleophis’ voice was distressed.

She looked past him at the door and saw the students had gathered in
front of it. Riell used her Inner to create a psychic cushion around herself to
absorb incoming projections and ran headlong into them.

“Don’t let her out!” Azule called out to them.

Riell waited until the students were crowded around her and burst the
psychic cushion. Students closest to her sailed into the air and fell all around
the room, stunned. She kicked at the door, but it barely opened.

Some of the remaining students charged at her while others pelted her
with psychic bolts to slow her. Riell lifted a hand at a student and used her
Inner to pull him in front of her. Incoming bolts slammed into the student. He
lost consciousness before the barrage ceased. She launched the student into
three more near her and gave the door a strong kick. It moved a bit more.

She ran at the doorway, jumped off a corner of it and spun in the exits
direction. Something gripped her and stopped her in mid-air. She knew the
vice-like will that impeded her belonged to Azuleophis.

You can’t leave,
she felt Azuleophis’ voice bore into her mind and
break through her barriers with ease.

I have to
, she thought back at him.

The teacher tugged at her body with his mind. She used her Inner to
combat him and propel her body forward. A bright blue glow encased her and
exploded as the effort exhausted her. She flew back into the room and into
Azule’s arms. He held her fast.

“I’m sorry, Riell, but I cannot let you go to him,” he said in her ear.

Riell threw a back fist where she heard his voice and was surprised when
the blow connected. He groaned, and his grip loosened. She swept her arms out
as she dropped into a horse stance and freed herself. An elbow to the stomach
and another back fist made him stagger backwards, and her back kick sent him
reeling away. She halted him with her will and brought him sailing into her
sidekick. He doubled over and lay on the floor coughing.

Riell dashed for the door. Azule turned her around with his Inner, and
she ran headlong into him. Riell could not believe he had recovered so quickly.

I am outmatched after all.

He winked at her when their faces met and pushed both his hands out.

Azule’s telekinesis sent her flailing through the air, through the
doorway, down the hall and out the exit door. She hit Grizaltus’ statue and
fell face first on the stone walkway of the courtyard below it. Riell tried to
stand in her daze but slumped over.

Voices cried out from the hall and rapid footfalls neared her position.

“I feel her out here!” one said.

“Teacher how did you manage to throw her all the way down the hall?” a
female student asked.

“She hit me. I was angry,” Azule said.

“You never get angry, teacher.”

“Well, I’ve never been struck by such a fierce blow,” he replied.

Riell scrambled on the other side of the statue. She masked her presence
with her Inner, cloaked, cleared her mind and tried not to make a sound.

“She just vanished,” another student said. Footsteps stopped on the other
side of the statue.

“Well, she’s gone now.” The teacher patted a part of the statue near
Riell’s head and turned to leave.

“You don’t think she’s using her Inner to keep herself hidden?” a student
called from the door.

“No, she’s not that skilled,” Azule said, as he walked back to the door.

Riell frowned.

Good luck. You’re more talented than you realize,
he thought at
her.

Thank you, I appreciate everything you’ve done,
she thought and
smiled.

The voices of the students faded back into the hall and Riell flew
hastily for the west wing.

“Bring in the offender,” Ran’nok said.

The demon sat upon a jagged throne of volcanic rock on a raised section
of his classroom. Marylza stood next to Ran’nok with her arms and wings folded.
Annoyance contorted her face. She wanted to proceed with the ritual and was
positive Asmodeus would be content with Drean’s sacrifice without any formal
ceremony as long as it succeeded.

Ran’nok wholeheartedly disagreed.

Several iron cages were stacked on top of one another on the other side
of the room.

Its bottom consisted of six cages, and the whole structure was five tiers
tall. Each of them had humans of different ages, sexes and races in them. All
of them were naked and malnourished. The humans kept their eyes averted for
they knew angering Ran’nok would only lead to a slow death.

Racks with different tools and devices for sacrificial rites were against
the wall, consisting of: an array of knives, tongs and fold-able metal crosses
which could be adjusted to fit humans of any height.

Double doors that lead out into the hall opened. Six white robed demons
of different colors carried one of those metal crosses with an unconscious
Drean strapped to it.

“Bring him forth,” Ran’nok said.

The cross was taken to the foot of the raised section of the room and
bolted to the floor.

 
“We will now begin this
rite,” Ran’nok said. “I will lead us in the invocation. I believe the
appropriate one is, ‘The Corruption of Annarae.’ I think our master will
delight at the parallelism. Do you know the melody, Marylza? My opinion is that
the beginning and the end of the ritual are most important.”

“Yes. I agree. And yes. I know the melody.”

Ran’nok began the first verse in a wavering guttural tone and the demons
joined in a dissonant chorus. Marylza held her ears. Demonic had always sounded
horrendous in song to her, and though she knew it was partially intended, it
made no difference. By the time they were finished some of the human’s ears
would be bleeding from the volume of the song.

Their voices rose and lowered in sharp waves. The crescendo was coming
and Marylza did not want to hear it.

“Ran’nok! Stop singing! Stop!” Marylza yelled over and over until he
stopped singing.

He growled.

“What?!”

Marylza faded from the throne, reappeared at his side and gazed at the
body of Drean.

“You may wake him if you continue. Just let me complete this rite myself.
Asmodeus commanded me to do it personally. You know that. I do not need your
help.”

“This is my specialty not yours.”

“Our dagger will not penetrate his skin. Not when he’s guarded. You
should have recognized that to begin with. And no amount of singing and
meditation will soften his barriers. Let me do what I need to do before he
wakes.”

Ran’nok unsheathed his dagger. Its foot long, gleaming white blade was
forged from the tooth of a bal’duz: a rare component with an even rarer
capability to penetrate angel flesh. Its hollow middle would fill with the
highly prized blood of its victim.

“This dagger was designed for such a sacrifice. It should be more than
sufficient,” he said, and ran his claw down the blade of the dagger to make
sure it had been sharpened. He smiled when it sliced through his flesh.

“There is something unshakable about this angel, something impenetrable,”
she said. “I will go into his mind and find his weakness,” she suggested. “Then
we do not risk a failed sacrifice.”

Marylza motioned for Ran’nok to back away from Drean’s body. When he did
the succubus stood above Drean’s head. She leaned over Drean to place her lips
on his.

“She just wants to get some from him.” A young demon snickered behind
her.

She hissed and raised her head to look at the demon that spoke out.

“Get these voyeurs out of here.”

“They are my students and need to learn from this experience,” Ran’nok
growled back.

“I won’t have my concentration broken by their childish banter,” she said
through her teeth. “If you won’t tell them to leave then you can continue this
rite without my help. And have them take him off of that cross. I want him on
the altar.”

“You women and your infernal dilemmas.” Ran’nok thought for a moment, his
talons rhythmically clacked against the ground. “Get him down from there and
place him on the altar. Class is dismissed!” he bellowed.

Some of the demons groaned in protest as they took Drean down and left
the room.

“The next voice I hear will have clean up duty for the next century,”
Ran’nok called after them.

His students filed out silently. The double-doors slammed behind the last
one.

Marylza licked her lips in anticipation and bent down to kiss Drean.

“Don’t you think you should be...” Before Ran’nok could finish, the
succubus’ lips touched the angel’s. A sharp snap echoed throughout the room as
her lips combusted, and she howled. “More cautious?” the demon finished with a
satisfied grin.

Marylza’s lips charred and blistered before she could put the fire out.

“I had to do that to get a taste of his spirit. It’s the only way for me
to gain entry into his mind.”

“Couldn’t you have done it psychically?”

“We each have our ways.”

Her tone was deeper than Ran’nok had expected it to be. He involuntarily
stepped back.

“How long is this going to take?” Marylza continued to stare at him. That
was answer enough for Ran’nok. “I’ll just sit this one out.”

She nodded at him. Her lips itched and tingled as they healed.

Yes, your power is far from absolute, angel.
She smirked.

“I will have you yet,” she muttered.

She sat cross-legged in front of the altar, stretched out each of her
wings, folded them and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and delved into
Drean.

* * *

“Drean.” Riell’s soft voice stirred Drean from his slumber.

For a moment he had no idea where he was. He felt softness against his
skin only equaled by his bed in Heaven. Drean realized he was on the corpse
mattress in his room.

He immediately jumped up and dusted himself off. Riell jumped away from
him in defense, and Drean just assumed he had scared her.

“Riell, how... how did I get here?” He looked at her with groggy eyes.
Sleep’s remnants retreated when he noticed red, green and black blood stained
her face and armor.

“There’s no time for you to be incoherent. We have to get out of here!”
She shook him violently.

“I’m awake! Don’t shake me like that,” he said. Drean noticed Riell was
putting pressure on a wound on her arm. Bright red blood seeped from between
her fingertips. “Are you ok? Let me look at that wound.” Drean moved close to
her to try to heal her.

“No time!” She moved outside of his reach and threw open the door. “We
need to get out of here. Now!” She walked out into the hall, looked in both
directions and made sure Drean was behind her before running for the exit.

 
Drean followed her closely.

“Shit.” She slid to a halt and Drean ran into her.

“Be careful, boy.” Riell drew her sword and held it in front of her.
“More are coming.”

“Why are you being so terse with me?”

“There are too many,” she said. “I’m in no position to fight. We’ll need
to hide.” She glanced at Drean and held his gaze. “What are you staring at,”
she snapped.

“Why are you being so terse with me?” he asked again.

Riell gave Drean no answer, but glanced past him down the hall. “The sacrificial
chamber... we can hide there.” She grabbed Drean and ran down the hall to the
double doors of the chamber.

Riell lifted up her free hand and outstretched her palm. The doors flew
open and closed behind them as they came through. Drean’s mouth gaped when he
saw the stacked cages filled with naked humans.

“We should be safe for now,” Riell said.

“We have to free them!”

“We need to worry about ourselves right now.” She lifted several of the
metal crosses near the cages with Inner and used them to barricade the door.

“How’s your arm?” Drean asked, and moved closer to see if he could heal
it before she could get out of his reach.

“It’s already stopped bleeding.” She caught sight of him and moved away.
“Don’t concern yourself with it.”

Roars and growling grew closer. The door shuddered as the demons tried to
break in.

“They’re going to get through. We’re finished.”

“I can take them.”

“No, you can’t. They have weapons that will penetrate your skin and
superior numbers. Eventually they’ll wear us down.”

“Then I can teleport us out. But Gerald...” Drean said.

“You can? Where could we go?”

“Your room. That image is fresh in my mind.”

“Great.”

Drean opened a light door as the demons broke through, and they
teleported to Riell’s bedroom.

Drean was light headed when he stepped into Riell’s room. He slumped
over, and her arms held him up. At her touch his skin tingled, and want for her
stirred in him.

She saw this in his eyes, smiled, stripped and placed his hands upon her
nakedness. She caressed his body with one hand and removed her armored leggings
with another. He tried to kiss her, but she stopped him with a hand over his
lips and tossed him onto the bed.

She pulled his clothes off and tried to hold him down, but he flipped her
on her back, pulled her by her ankles to the end of the bed and spread her legs
apart, stretching them over her head. He stood there and let his eyes enjoy the
moment before thrusting himself upon her.

“Yes, angel,” she moaned, but he did not hear.

He was lost in a desperate walkabout of passion. He searched relentlessly
inside of her to discover the means to quench what she had ignited within him.

“Let me finish on top of you,” she whispered. “You won’t be disappointed.
I promise.”

“Something feels so good...” Drean said. “I don’t want to stop.”

“I know how to make it feel good, Drean. Let me.”

Drean fell back on to the bed and let Riell climb atop him. She teased
him for a moment with slow, gentle movements. He placed his hands on her curves
and moaned.

“It’s there again,” he said.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” she said.

Riell put her hands on his sweaty, rigid chest and rode him. Riell
slammed herself against him, again and again. Their love making escalated from
a moderate clap to a rapid staccato.

Drean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he yelled.

“Don’t stop!” he screamed.

“Drean, no!” Riell yelled, except the voice came from behind Drean. Drean
pulled out of the Riell in bed with him: his cognition had returned.

In that instant Drean could perceive it was Marylza he had made love to.
Panic was on his face. He knew what he had done, and he knew he had enjoyed it.

“It matters not. You are mine,” she said.

Something stung his shoulder. It ached for a moment and then seared him.
He cried out.

Marylza’s phosphorescent eyes smiled at him triumphantly, and he lost
consciousness again.