Fall Ch. 09-14

Seated at the table, however, was a collection of demons that made her hesitate to walk in the door. Some of the most powerful demons that she'd met and several that she hadn't. At the head of the table sat a man who looked elderly with slightly slumped shoulders and ragged white wings.

"You stopped in the hall?" The older man looked at them with hard white eyes that reminded her of fine white marble.

"Ms. Alvar felt the need to ask Sertaniel his name." Caimrael took a half step away from her.

"I don't often come across angels that aren't actively trying to murder me. Gathering names is always useful in my line of work."

The white-eyed demon smiled almost shyly, "I doubt you need to be concerned about their names. You may consider yourself retired."

"Some professions you don't get to retire from, Marines, priests, hitmen, and dispellers all spring to mind. I'm still alive, I'll keep doing what I do."

His smile grew almost mischievous, "You intend to dispel someone here?"

That drew a laugh from her, "No. I know a few of these, ah, gentlemen. I've required help with every one of them and even if I hadn't promised to not to cause trouble over dinner I'm not getting paid to f-" she caught herself remembering that she'd promised no cursing, "to, um, disturb their evening."

"Sertaniel didn't command you to make the attempt?" He looked like a cheerful old man as he gestured to a seat.

"He can command all he likes, the rules are we only take jobs from humans. We learn fast, you bend the rules with favors and bargains, at your own risk, it's a necessary evil to get the job done, but you never break them."

"I've always enjoyed the phrase 'necessary evil', humans are so charming in the way they cast judgments on the things they require." He looked very pleased as she sat next to Nallezus without arguing or hesitation. "The newly fallen have come to see the benefits of favors as well?"

"Even angels ask for favors when they bother to show up."

"Favors outside of that arrangement."

"Technically, we're free to refuse but a good working relationship-"

"Who first approached you?"

Verena folded her hands and set her chin on them giving him as bright a smile as she could summon. "I tend not to give things up for free and even if I did I doubt you'd like my answer."

"Elbows off the table." Nallezus gave her an annoyed look, "Who taught you manners?"

"Table manners?" She sat back and put her hands in her lap. "They've never been high on the list of things I've needed to know."

"Nallezus will educate you, and you will educate me." The older man still looked amused. "Who first approached you?"

"It wasn't... it wasn't like that. They stepped in and took care of me without asking anything in return. It evolved from there."

His eyes narrowed, "That's more sophisticated than I would have expected of them. When did they begin to educate you?"

"After I'd begged and badgered them into it. I make it a point to learn as much as I can, always. It's served me well."

The demon's shoulder's straightened and the demons closest to him edged almost imperceptibly away. "And who did you beg and badger?"

"I thought dinner was supposed to be a part of-"

"Dolores..." His wings spread slightly and a terrible smell like corpses rotting under the sun wafted down the table.

She stared, feeling her mouth go dry. It wasn't just the resurrection of a name that no one outside of the security office's record keepers should know that terrified her, the old records had mentioned the reason the angels had burned the original library. Some idiot had managed to write a grimoire on the king of all demons... the smell was one of the few things that had been passed down about him.

After a moment, she inclined her head, "Verena, if you don't mind. I dislike that name, your Dread Majesty. I begged and badgered any of them that would stand still and listen. Not all of them would. I learned bits and pieces from many of them. If naming them will bring them harm I'll take the blow myself."

The wings closed again, "The dispellers still have the grimoire? I was told it was destroyed."

"It was." Swallowing she continued with a dip of her head, "After the library burned every dispeller who could remember anything they'd read was called on to write down what they remembered. It started the tradition of the Librarians who don't leave the confines of the library. The old records are-" she stopped as he leaned forward.

"Continue."

"They're disjointed and difficult to make sense of. I had to piece a lot together on my own and I left notes... I, um, I read the-they call it the shattered grimoires. Bits and pieces no one can quite make sense of. One part talks about the king of all demons, his Dread Majesty, whose name should never be spoken."

"And what does it say?" An almost boyish grin graced his wrinkled old face.

Verena took a moment to remember the words, "He is the wages of all sin, walking death that perfumes the air with the stench of the battlefield.'" Looking at him with a frown, she tilted her head, "You'd think they'd mention eyes like white gravestone marble if they wanted to get poetic about it."

He started laughing and she had to struggle not to cover her ears. The terrible, shrill sound stopped and he looked at her with an eerily grandfather-like smile. "I was told you have a fascination with eyes."

Before she could stop herself the words came out of her mouth, "Eyes, wings, and names, the three things I never forget."

"Ghedorniel."

A bubble of acid rose in her throat. Even hearing the name spoken she felt unclean. He looked at her expectantly and she shook her head.

"I have time, Dolores. You'll say it eventually."

°°°°°°°°°°

Twelve

Because of her silence through the rest of what had eventually become a meal, Caimrael took her back to the suite. The demon was amused to see something from the windows in the front of the rooms and while he was distracted, Verena took a cup of water to the bedroom. Very quietly she wedged a chair beneath the knob. It would do nothing once he caught on but it was for the look of the thing. She wanted him to think it was a genuine attempt.

Writing in plain water wasn't ideal but it was quieter than blood would have been and she suspected that the windows had some sort of demonic protection on them to make her choice seem reasonable. She began tracing the symbols on the glass of the window and once she heard a hand on the knob she began the incantation. She'd barely gotten enough out to make a few cracks in the glass before she was bounced off of the wall behind her.

A little dazed, she got to her feet, "It's been an evening but it's time for me to be going."

He advanced on her with wings spread, "You're being rude, Dolores."

Behind him, something hit the glass hard and she started moving, the dispelling incantation falling from her mouth without hesitation.

Verena woke with a splitting headache and the taste of blood in her mouth. Whatever she was laying on was hard and when she tried to move, her right arm and both legs protested with an agony that brought tears to her eyes. She stopped trying to move and lay there panting trying to remember how she got here and where she might be. There was no light whatsoever.

A soft pained voice spoke from nearby, "I was told that if... if I harmed you I would have light and clean food and water. He lied."

"That's what they do. You have to get payment up front or-" She groaned in pain as a hand touched her hip. "Or have a plan."

"Plans... plans fail."

"Yeah. Yeah sometimes." The pain began to ease. She could feel things moving back into place in her legs and hips. It wasn't pleasant but it wasn't agony either. It felt surreal and she held still just waiting for him to finish.

"You made him angry?"

"I don't know. Probably." Her mind was foggy. "I remember, um... there was dinner." The memory of the demon with white marble eyes flashed across her mind's eye. "I sat at a table with the one whose name should never be spoken. I remember that." Verena paused as the hands touching her jerked back. "I remember refusing to speak for the rest of the evening after he said his name. Kept calling me Dolores. I don't remember anything past going back to the suite. I crossed the threshold and it's-it's blank."

Whether she'd fallen asleep or passed out, she woke to hands gently touching her face. "You have a head wound."

"Oh." Being still felt good and her eyes were dry and heavy. A sudden brightness made her grimace and Athidrial bolted for his corner. She let her eyes keep drifting closed, keeping them open was too much and it felt pointless.

She woke to hands on her face again and Athidrial's peculiar eyes near her own. "They want you alive."

"What happened?"

"You were a rude guest." A vaguely familiar voice spoke nearby.

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember a foolish attempt to block a door and trying to call for aid with water on a window?"

Athidrial skittered away and Caimrael bent in front of her.

"No." She winced as he touched her head. "But I'm almost certain I'd need help to dispel you and water would be quieter than blood so..."

"I had an angel trying to break in through that window even after I'd rendered you unconscious. You wanted to be in the oubliette with Athidrial and now you have your wish. You'll stay here until you're sent for again."

It was a relief when he lifted his hand.

"This has been seen as a failure on my part. You'll be more pleasant and amenable the next time you dine with royalty, Dolores."

Verena didn't bother answering, simply closing her eyes. It wasn't her intent to sit here idly and wait. The odds were good he'd want her to sit and suffer for awhile. Athidrial was afraid and fear tended to leach into others.

After what felt like a long moment she opened her eyes, he was still there studying her. "Who came?"

Caimrael dropped the pretense of a human face and snarled at her, a mottled grey face that looked dead and mostly dry with lips peeled back from nasty needle teeth. Patchy brown wings spread ominously.

"I ask because no angel has ever shown up when I've called. They don't like me much."

Ignoring his behavior seemed to be the right move, at least for now. He folded his wings and put his face back on, giving her a furious look and stalking to the door. It closed with a heavy sound and shortly after the lights went out.

The fallen came back to her quickly, touching her face again. "Try to stay awake."

"I will." She drew in a deep breath, "It's hard to tell if my eyes are open or closed though."

"To be alone in the dark is... unbearable. It may be worse with... someone to worry for."

"You don't have to worry." Verena touched his hand and very carefully tried to sit up.

"You should stay down."

"I've heard that before. My Uncle," she tried not to laugh, "the first time we met, said I don't know when to just stay down."

Athidrial joined her on the wooden shelf helping to prop her up and letting her lean on him.

"He also used to say, we're never truly in the dark. We breathe the light. He said it's why we can do what we do, see what we see."

"You are all children of the breath." He sounded amused.

"This place is warded?"

"Yes." His amusement faded.

"So he won't come running if I try a few things?"

"What things could you try in this place... in the dark?"

"Can I borrow a feather?"

He was silent and still for a moment before moving hesitantly, reaching back and then hunting for her hand, pressing something soft into it. The tip felt damp and she traced the symbol on the back of her hand lightly with it. She'd intended to use her blood but his would do. Once the last line had been traced she spoke the incantation to ignite the armor.

The burning sensation was less of a surprise this time and, in the dark, she could see the lines standing out on her bare flesh. If this didn't bring that demon running nothing would.

"We should work fast."

"Child of breath..." Athidrial's eyes reflected the light giving them an almost golden glow.

"We need blood, mine and yours. We're going to put a summoning sigil on that door, Athidrial. I haven't ever tried this before, not for an angel, but we're going to send out the call a little higher than I usually aim and see what we can draw."

"I... I can help you." He sounded almost hopeful. "Who will come?"

"I doubt Ezeviel would come but Sertaniel might."

"He can only be called with Semilliel."

"Two of us and two favors. It's symmetrical. We can hope they see it that way."

The bowl that had held rice and beans soon held blood and she began painting the summoning sigils on the door. At Athidrial's instruction, she made an extra ring adapting the vagueness of angelic summoning with a little of the specificity of demonic summoning. The symbols were different but the idea was the same.

They began the incantation together, she continued as she'd been taught, pouring her will and strength, pouring her desire to help one who needed it, one who was made for a purpose into every word. Athidrial's language had changed to something that made her skull tingle. The metal of the door groaned and puckered but the door remained in place.

Standing in silence for a long moment, she reached out to take his hand as the sound of someone trying to open the door started.

"I can try to dispel him. I just need the time to get the words out. If we don't have any help waiting on the other side of that door this might be the last time I see you."

He gripped her hand and she felt him tremble, "You have a purpose, Athidrial. You were made for a purpose. Don't forget that. Abusus non tollit usum. If he gets too distracted killing me and you have a chance to run, take it."

She might have said more but the metal of the door began to scream as it was forced to open. Part of it folded down and the flash of speckled wing appeared in the opening before she heard someone shout, "Dispel them!"

The words fell from her mouth with all of the conviction and strength she could summon, the strongest incantation she had for dispelling demons making the armor burning into her skin feel like liquid fire. Pulling her hand free she stepped forward and brought her hands together as she finished, the clap sounding like thunder in the mostly enclosed space.

For a moment there was silence outside the door and then a beaming angelic face peered in the hole. "Impressive."

"That counts as the favor Athidrial owes. I'm picking up his tab."

"That isn't permitted." The angel gave her an almost amused look before it stepped back and the door was peeled open enough for them to pass through.

The fallen hesitated at the doorway and she reached back to take his hand. "I've got you. I'm not leaving you behind."

°°°°°°°°°°

Thirteen

Verena's eyes were closed as Lethuel washed the burns carefully. Dispelling the demons that had been on the other side of the door had only been possible because of the armor and the power it had allowed the angels to lend, but it had been expensive. The lines had felt like liquid fire and they had left angry burns all over her body. Athidrial's blood had even burned, completing the pattern permanently.

If any of the UV ink remained, Numphreon had grimly told her, having been used for its purpose once, it would ignite in the presence of demons. She was safe in the space Cehrael had found and warded before she was taken, but it was a temporary safety.

"I need you to turn."

"I wish I had a snorkel." Turning gingerly in the tub, she twisted her neck keeping her face out of the water. It made the burned lines on her neck feel like screaming agony. What was left of her hair had been cut short enough to keep it out of the burns. Those crisscrossed her skull and framed her face, front and back they extended down to the tops of her feet.

"Will you speak to Ezeviel?"

"I will. I'm not thrilled with Vaemius and Vincent for making that bargain and sticking me with the task but I'll honor it."

"The newly fallen meddle too much with the dispellers." The cool voice made her open her eyes, but the pale morganite eyes looked down at her with more curiosity than anything else.

"The demons were pissed with me, they kept saying 'the board was being tipped' and not in their favor. So maybe they're meddling just enough?"

For a moment she thought the angel almost smiled. "I did not expect you to be concerned with 'the board' as they put it."

"As a general rule, I'm not. I am concerned about the newly fallen. They're kind, they care for people, and I do what I can to make their lives and tasks easier when and where I can." Eyeing him distrustfully she asked the question to get the ordeal over with. "So what is it you want from me? I'll set the price for any favors if I choose to do them for you, after I know what you want."

His face hardened. "You summoned-"

"And I paid for it. I'm still paying for it. They'd have a favor left to ask if they'd let me pay for Athidrial's part. I don't expect anything different from angels, but it's cruel to ask anything of him in the state he's in. He needs to heal before he can pay."

Ezeviel's eyes flickered. "We are not cruel."

"You are. You're as bad as demons. Every man, woman, and child could burn as long as you win your game. I have no illusions. They had their own reasons for coming to help. Like demons there's a task that needs doing and you need a spare pair of hands to do it."

He turned and took a step toward the door. "You do not listen, child of breath."

"I listen. I watch." She closed her eyes. "I see more than most expect."

There was a moment's silence and Lethuel resumed washing her. When he finished, he helped her to her feet and began to pat her dry. To her surprise, Ezeviel was still there. Standing and looking at her with something like speculation.

"What did you see at the dinner with the demons?"

She exhaled and gingerly shook her head, "I saw something I'd read about. Or read pieces about."

The angel's wings spread and he looked furious.

"Put your wings down. Some idiots burned the library once thinking that dispellers aren't resourceful." Verena met his gaze with a stern scowl of her own. "Every dispeller who could remember anything they'd read wrote it down. In the old records, we have pieces of a whole that take a lot of effort to make sense of.

"One of these pieces is what we call the shattered grimoires. It's a book with unlabeled pieces. Demons with no names. At least one of them is deliberately that way. It talks about the king of all demons, 'his Dread Majesty, whose name should never be spoken. He is the wages of all sin, walking death that perfumes the air with the stench of the battlefield.'"

Ezeviel's wings folded as he studied her. "It does not say why his name should never be spoken?"

"No, but having heard it, I'm almost certain I'd rather eat glass than speak it. I couldn't tell you why but Uncle said dispellers should never ignore feelings like that."

"To hear his name is a death sentence." The angel looked at her expectantly and let silence stretch for a moment. "You will not attempt to kill me with it?"

"Even with the pain you cause and what you did to my Uncle, I still wouldn't kill you. Not just because the newly fallen would never forgive me for it. Even if you could truly die, it would seem wrong to me."

"To speak his name is to invite him. He reeks of death because he is a bodiless demon in a host, who dies slowly in agony, and the corpse is ridden until he finds a new one."

She inhaled sharply through puckered lips, staring at him. "You-you assbag of dicks! And you thought tempting me into saying the name was a good fucking idea? You are everything fucking wrong with the world!"