Angelopolis A Novel Page 0,94
be serious,” Azov said, his anger rising as he stepped close to Valko, looking him directly in the eye. “You know the potential consequences of releasing the Watchers. They could fight the Nephilim, yes, but they could also turn on humanity. You will put all of us in danger.”
Valko folded his hands on the table and closed his eyes. For a moment Vera believed he was saying a prayer, as if he were asking for divine guidance in what he was about to do. Finally he opened his eyes and said, “This was the case with our forefathers, the noble men who came here for the First Angelic Expedition, and it is our work still. Danger is something we accept in our work, Hristo. Death is something we accept. We cannot go back now.” Valko slid the vessel into his pocket. “The time has come for us to move, Lucien. Let’s go.”
• • •
The black water of the twisting river rushed by, sweeping into the darkness beyond as they climbed into a wobbling rowboat. Sitting in the prow next to Sveti, Vera saw a waterfall at the head of the river, the thick mist rising before the endless hollow of cave. She understood why legend designated the river as Styx, the river of the dead: As they glided across the water she felt a heaviness descend, a dark emptiness so complete it was as though her life had been stolen away. The living could not enter the land of the dead.
With Valko and Azov’s help, she and Sveti rowed toward the opposite shore, the boat rising and falling with the current. Lucien stood on the other side, waiting. He had gone ahead to open the door to the Watchers’ prison. In the absolute darkness of the cavern, his body seemed even brighter than it had in his room. His white wings sparkled with a strange brilliance, as if each feather had been inlaid with crystals. Vera watched him carefully, realizing that she’d never measured herself—her body, her mind, her strength, her speed—against any angelic creature before. All of her limitations, all of her human weaknesses, became clear by comparison.
The opposite bank of the river seemed empty at first, but upon closer inspection, Vera made out a cadre of glowing beings arriving upon the shore, arraying themselves in a great fan behind Lucien, their skin throwing off a tempered, diaphanous light. There were between fifty and one hundred angels, each one as lovely as the next. Their wings seemed to be made of gold leaf, and rings of light floated over their masses of blond curls. But even in their pure angelic splendor, the Watchers were no match for Lucien.
Stunned by the spectacle, Vera was torn between horror that she’d gotten herself into this situation and a desperate desire to examine the angels. It became apparent that a small number of the Watchers acted as leaders to the others. They walked among their brothers, directing them to stand in rows, organizing their legions as if preparing for battle. After they had been arrayed in perfect regiments, fanning along the riverside in bands of light, the leaders stood at Lucien’s side like royal guards.
With a clattering of wings, the angels rose to attention, their bodies blazing in brilliant bands of fire against the darkness. They were coming to the water, closing in on the boat, moving forward at a steady pace. Vera’s awe and terror swelled as the creatures approached. As the angels moved closer, the fire burnished the surface of the river, gilding the black with gold.
In a flurry of wind and wings that seemed to come out of nowhere, Lucien rose into the air, landing between the angelologists and the Watchers. He was their superior in every way. The Watchers stopped before the archangel’s son and, in a sweeping movement, knelt before him.
“Brothers,” Lucien said, “in heaven, I am of a superior caste. But here, in the wilderness of exile, we are equals.”
The Watchers stood, light undulating over the craggy walls of the gorge. Vera detected curiosity and fear and hesitation in the angels’ silence.
Lucien continued. “Your story is famous in heaven and on earth. God imprisoned you. You have waited for him to grant you reprieve, to bring you back to him. And now you are free. Come with me to the surface. We will celebrate together. We will sing praises to heaven together. We will fight and kill the enemy together.”
An angel stepped forward from the band of