With pride, the young gargoyle was able to meet every challenge, roaring and smiling at his audience of two with each success. He shot streams of fire at small targets from his gaping mouth; he dodged or blocked anything that Gargo threw at him; he ran and flew through a complex obstacle course meant to increase his agility; and most impressively, he crushed anything in his path, from stone walls to concrete blocks, kicking or shouldering his way through them using only raw power and strength.
When it was all over, Taylor and Kiren stood, clapping and whistling. “Go, Rocky!” Taylor yelled. Rocky beamed, as only a gargoyle with three sets of teeth can. With a final roar, Rocky allowed himself to be shepherded through a huge tunnel that presumably led back to the gargoyle paddocks.
Taylor was energized. Rocky had inspired her. She was ready for her mission.
Chapter Thirty
Gabriel checked his watch. Nine-thirty in the morning, local time. Four thousand miles north, and nearly two thousand miles west of the Lair. Only thirty seconds of travel thanks to the demon travelling with them.
The demon said, “I will stay close. Signal if you are ready to move on.”
Gabriel nodded but the demon was already gone.
“You ready for this?” Gabriel said.
“Just like old times,” Sampson replied.
They walked out from behind the patch of bushes in which the demon had left them. It was a cold morning and they could see their breath with each exhalation. It was vastly different to UT’s warm-weather campus or the Lair, each of which were significantly closer to the equator. But they were angels—the cold didn’t bother them. Turn up the inner light a notch, risk a little extra body glow, and it was like wearing a thermal coat, wool gloves, and a toboggan hat.
They were in northern Central Park, New York City. The plan was to focus on the places in the world with the highest angel populations. NYC was a natural starting point, boasting over a thousand angels throughout the urban sprawl. Most were married to humans, had families, and lived relatively normal lives, except for the part where their kids attended angel school on the weekends to learn about the evils of demons.
Gabriel’s family had lived in New York for a spell, before his dad was transferred southwest for his job. Now his family was in hiding, sheltered by the demons in the Lair, not safe after having been kidnapped by the angels and used as bait. Gabriel didn’t want them to have to hide anymore. This mission would help make that happen. The goal: start a rebellion. How? He didn’t have a clue, but hoped he would figure it out when the time came.
They walked down a path, heading for Fifth Avenue. The park paths were crowded with runners, dog walkers, and bundled up business men and women walking to another day of meetings, computers, and coffee breaks. Their lives were normal. Gabriel didn’t envy them though. He liked his life. Especially now that Taylor was in it.
Using a combination of walking and underground subways, they made their way through the gridlock of swarming sidewalks and busy streets to their destination: an apartment building in the Upper East Side. Gabriel had confirmed with his parents that he still lived there.
The building had security, but not a security desk; the main door was locked, requiring a key to open. A metal intercom with a keypad and speaker was inset in the brick entryway. Gabriel pressed one and then five. He waited.
A man’s voice came through the speaker: “Timothy?”
“Guess again,” Gabriel said.
“I have no idea,” the man said.
“Gabriel Knight and a friend.”
“Gabriel Knight? Light-swords and orb-blasters! I surely didn’t expect to find you on my front doorstep.”
“Can we come in?” Gabriel asked.
“Of course, of course, I will buzz you in. The elevator will automatically take you to the fifth floor only. I am number fifteen, but of course you already know that.”
There was a soft hum and a click as the door unlocked. Sampson pulled it open and held it for Gabriel. “Ladies first,” he said.
Gabriel punched his friend playfully as he entered first. A minute later they exited the elevator onto a landing with three doors, marked thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. Gabriel lifted his fist to knock on fifteen, but the door opened before he could complete the motion.
“Gabriel, my boy, it feels like forever since I have seen you,” the man inside the door said. He was tall, with a long face, long neck, long torso, long arms, and long legs. Even his fingers looked abnormally long and Gabriel suspected that if his shoes were removed they would reveal three-inch toes as well.
“Uncle Martin!” Gabriel said. “It’s been too long.” He embraced the man and then turned and said, “Sampson, meet Martin Hargrave. I’ve known him since I was a very little boy.”
Shaking Sampson’s hand, Martin said, “Longer than that, although you probably don’t remember. I saw you shortly after your birth, Gabriel. Your parents were so proud. You were their first.”
Sampson said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. So you’re Helena Knight’s brother?”
“Alas, no. I am an only child, but both Helena and Theodore became such dear friends to me that the mere restrictions of blood could not stop us from being uncles and aunts to each other’s children. But where are my manners, come in, come in, please.”
Gabriel followed Martin into the apartment with Sampson behind him. The first thing he heard was the soothing tinkle of light piano music in the background. They entered into a sitting room. An antique couch and four antique chairs provided seating for up to seven guests. A colorful, Asian-inspired rug decorated the open space between the seats. Lovely paintings of historic New York City adorned the walls. The place was kept meticulously clean. Good old Uncle Martin, Gabriel thought. He and his brothers used to drive Martin crazy with the messes they would make when they were visiting.
“Who’s Timothy?” Gabriel asked before they sat down.
Martin said, “I thought you were my 10:30 appointment. A young human boy, just learning to play. He must be late.”
Sampson said, “Play what?”
“The piano, of course,” Martin said.
Gabriel explained: “Martin is a renowned pianist. He’s played in concert halls all over the world. But—correct me if I’m wrong, Martin—you have always preferred teaching to playing.”
“You’re absolutely right, my boy. Playing for hours doesn’t do for me what teaching for five minutes can. It’s my life work.”
The phone rang. Martin strode over to a wall-mounted phone. Before answering it, he said, “Please, please, make yourselves at home.”
Gabriel and Sampson sat in two of the chairs while Martin took the call. Lowering his voice, Sampson said, “Will he be able to help us?”
“Trust me, if anyone is plugged into the angel network here, it will be Martin. Before we left, he was the head of the local angel chapter.”
“But will he be receptive?”
Gabriel leaned back in his chair, contemplating the question. Then, leaning forward, he said, “Martin was always one of the most caring people I knew. He valued equality, honesty, generosity. He teaches human kids to play the piano. Unless he has completely changed since I last met him, he’s our guy.”
Sampson nodded as Martin returned. Martin said, “We’re in luck, my appointment’s been cancelled. I was worried you would have to sit through an hour of rough, beginner playing.”
“Great,” Gabriel said.
“So, what brings you to the Big Apple? I presume this is not a social call.”
“What makes you say that?” Gabriel asked.
“No advance notice, for one. And secondly, when I returned from my phone call a moment ago, the two of you were whispering like a pair of co-conspirators in a bank heist. I’m getting old, but my mind is as sharp as ever, you can’t fool me.”
Gabriel laughed. “I don’t suppose I can. And you are right, of course. We’ve come to request your help.”
“It must be important. Last lett
er I got from your parents said that you were at the front lines of the War—that’s a solid ten hour flight to New York.”
“That is where we’ve come from,” Gabriel said, choosing not to mention that they had teleported rather than flown. They needed to ease their way into the subject of their alliance with the demons.
“So you’re a fighter, too?” Martin asked Sampson.
“I try, although my girlfriend tends to save my butt half the time,” Sampson said chuckling.
“Ahh, your lady is in the force, too. That’s good. Long distance relationships are hard.” He said it matter-of-factly, from experience. Gabriel knew Martin’s story; it was one of love, joy, and ultimately sadness. His wife had been in the angel army, returning home a few times a year, when the soldiers were given leave for holidays. Eventually she had been killed in a battle. Their four kids had been somewhat scarred—as would be expected—by the experience of losing their mother so young. None had joined the army.
Gabriel said, “Uncle, I have a story to tell you, but you might not believe a lot of it. I ask that you try to keep an open mind.”
Martin’s eyebrows arched when he heard Gabriel’s disclaimer and request. “Gabriel, I have always known you to be trustworthy. I will not look for lies in that which is true.”
Gabriel was glad that his Uncle wasn’t up to date on some of his recent history, which included a spat of lies to various people, including to his own girlfriend on multiple occasions.
“Thanks. This might take a while, but feel free to stop me if you have a question or would like to take a break.”
“Out with it, my boy. You’ve certainly piqued my interest.”
With that, Gabriel began from the beginning. He left nothing out and made no effort to hide his own indiscretions. His mission to abduct Taylor, the lies he told her, his effort to escape with her: he laid his soul bare without making excuses for any of it. Occasionally, Martin would sigh and stretch his arms high over his head, as if the story was making his muscles sore. To his credit, however, he didn’t interrupt, stopping Gabriel only once to make a cup of tea for the three of them.
When Gabriel reached the part where Sampson rescued him from the angel dungeons, Martin murmured, “Mmmm,” and nodded his head. At that point, Sampson went back in time to tell the story of his decision to side with the demons after becoming uncomfortable with things he had heard about Dionysus’s ultimate goals.
Finally, Gabriel finished with a flourish as he described Taylor’s miraculous evolution, her destruction of six members of the Archangel Council, David’s corruption, and the subsequent evolution of the group now calling themselves the New Archangels. At the end of the tale the silence was so complete that you could have heard a teardrop splash on the meticulously polished hardwood floors.
Leaning forward, Martin looked into Gabriel’s eyes intensely, and said, “Why exactly are you here, Gabriel?”
“I think you know, Uncle,” Gabriel said.
Changing gears, Martin said, “Your poor parents, they must be a mess. David was always such a good kid. And he idolized you.”
“They still have hope that he will see the error in his ways, but I have seen the heat of his anger. He is furious with me for betraying the angel cause. Ever since that day on the Warrior’s Plateau…he’s been different. He’s not the brother I once knew.”
Switching back to his initial line of thinking, Martin said, “This is not going to be an easy sell, Gabriel, not when decades of belief have been engrained in the angel population. Angels are brought up hating demons, wishing them dead. I mean, you were blinded to what was really going on, too. Dionysus has fooled us all.”
“So you believe me,” Gabriel said.
“It’s not so much that I believe you that I want to believe you. I have always wished there was a way to make peace with the demons, settling things without killing each other. It helps too that I know you. The others will not be so trusting.”
“That’s where you come in. They know you, they respect you, they trust you. I am hoping that between the three of us, we can convince enough of them to make a real difference.”
Frowning, Martin said, “And then what? We all rise up and fight alongside the demons. Most of us aren’t in the army because we don’t want to be. We want to live a normal life.”
Gabriel stood, his hands fisted with energy. “Then you must fight for that normal life. This affects everyone, all of us. The world as we know it is about to be destroyed, to be replaced with an Evil Utopia dreamed up by a madman. Mankind has no idea what is about to hit them, and even if they did, they would be incapable of defending themselves. Who will stand up to defend them? The demons will. Will you? Will you defend the defenseless?” By the time he finished speaking, Gabriel’s face was shining with emotion.
Smiling, Martin said, “Of course I will, Gabriel. I was only trying to see if you had what it takes to convince the rest of them. That speech shows me that you do. Bring that same fire with you to the gathering.”
“What gathering?”
“The one I’m about to set up for tonight.” He looked at his watch. “Look, it’s only two o’clock now. You guys can make some lunch while I hit the phones, try to get something scheduled.”
Gabriel said, “Thank you, Uncle. Thank you for trusting me.”
Chapter Thirty-One
There were humans everywhere. Despite having grown up with them and being fathered by one, David’s tolerance for humankind was low. Just the smell of them was making him nauseous. The way they walked around talking arrogantly on their cell phones about finalizing their meaningless deals, how they drove expensive cars while playing loud rap music, and their ultimate belief that they were the rulers of the earth, the supreme species: it all made David want to put them on an island—and then blow it up.
Angels should be ruling the world. They should be free to roam the skies, to fill the world with light, to chase away the darkness. Instead, they were forced to hide their true selves. Because of the demons. If the angels moved, the demons were always there with them. Watching. Waiting. Protecting the insolent fools that wandered through their pointless lives without a clue as to their true place in the pecking order. Humans were third, at best. Clearly the angels and demons were above them. And David would probably place dolphins and certain breeds of dogs, like collies for example, ahead of the filthy humans as well.
David wanted to know what it was like to feel the life ebbing from a human, because he, of the superior race, had exercised his authority over the lowly human. Disgusting. Vermin.
He sat on a bench and watched them crawling over everything, like cockroaches. Cassandra was on his right, Lucas on his left. David said, “I wish we could start now.”
“Too risky. We have to wait until nightfall,” Lucas said.
“I know that,” David growled. “I just wish.”
Cassandra said, “We could start…”
“Don’t encourage him,” Lucas warned.
“Shut up! Let her speak. What did you mean by that, dear Cassandra?” David asked, the tone of his voice transitioning seamlessly from sharp and cold, to smooth and buttery. It was a little trick he had learned from the master actor himself, Dionysus.
“I only meant that there are less risky targets we can begin with. Targets that will be easily handled without fear of detection. Like old people, for example. The kind that sit at home and watch soap operas with their cats.”
“You’re sick,” David said. “I like it.”
“No, let’s just stick to the original plan and wait until dark and then go after a few drunks on the street.” Lucas had stood up and was towering over David, who was still seated.
“Disagreeing with the mission leader. Tisk, tisk, Lucas. Your actions could be construed as an act of treason, grounds for imprisonment or even execution.”
Lucas backed off and looked at Cassandra for support. She said, “It could look that way, Lucas.”
Defeated, he sat back down. A f
ew minutes of silence passed, and then he said, “Fine. But we have to be very careful or the entire mission could be ruined.”
David said, “That’s a good little bee, follow me.” With that, he stood up and marched off. He could hear feet scuffling behind him as his two pawns followed behind like obedient dogs. He vowed never to take orders from either of them again.
David walked and walked, not really caring in which direction he was going, until the streets thinned out, and the foot traffic dwindled. While he walked, he trained his ears to pick up sounds directly behind him. He heard harsh whispers, like an argument. The two love birds were disagreeing about something. Lucas was probably proposing an immediate coup against their leader. His rationale would be that there were two of them and only one of him and that they had seniority and should be running the mission anyway. Cassandra was probably saying that she agreed but that Dionysus would punish them when they returned. He trusted neither of them.
Tuning his super-hearing elsewhere, David ignored his little doggies and focused on finding his first target. First of many, he thought. He passed a group of punk kids sitting on a stoop, smoking cigarettes and laughing at an inappropriate joke one of them had made. Probably skipping school. Probably from broken homes where one parent was long gone and the other couldn’t care less about what their kids were doing as they worked three jobs and were more concerned with putting food on the table. They were good targets, but would have to wait until night. They might have guns, and while David didn’t fear such arcane human weapons, they made a lot of noise and would draw attention.
A few more blocks and the neighborhood got even older, more rundown. Sidewalks crumbled, buildings chipped and rotted, mailboxes were covered in graffiti. An old man was sitting on his front step reading a newspaper. No witnesses nearby. Perfect.