“We must stop this from coming to pass.”
“Foster is Lucifer’s blood.Wedo nothing, because we couldn’t hope to hold a candle to his raw power—let alone whatever these rituals can give him.”
“Why are you here then, Mary? Surely it wasn’t just to show me this vision.”
“It’s not,” she admitted. “I need you to help me speak with Jehovah.”
“I don’t understand.”
Mags rose slowly, brushing dust from her knees even though she knew it was only part of the vision. The book faded from her hand, returning to its original position beneath the rubble.
“Christos once told me...about an artifact that could imbue its owner with unlimited strength. A suit of armor that could protect its wearer from any attack.”
“You refer to the Armor of God.”
“I do.”
“It isn’t meant to be wielded by any but Jehovah. And he would never relinquish the Gospel that would lead them to it.”
“I understand it wouldn’t be a simple request.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I would appreciate your support when I ask Him.”
“He will never accept this.”
“I need you to help me convince Him.”
Michael shook his head sadly. “I can’t.”
“You must!” She was beginning to feel that desperate fear again. If Michael wouldn’t help them, who could she depend on?
“You of all people should understand my reservations,” he retorted. “The last time I went to beseech Him for help, it resulted in an attempted coup and a betrayal I still atone for. I curry much less favor with my King than I once did. You waste your time asking me this.”
“Michael, we have to try.” She dropped her voice, wary even when they were alone of someone overhearing what she was about to say. “You know that Lucifer has been weakened, Michael. Without his wings, without the power he gifted to the Deadly Sins, youknowhe can’t stand against someone imbued with the strength of this grimoire.”
“Enough!” Michael spun on his heel and stalked back to the original point they had entered the vision. His robes fluttered as he paced in circles, eyes darting around the ruined landscape all the while. “You have to give up on this delusion, Mary. I won’t stake my name against your impulsive ideas, especially for Lucifer’s benefit.”
She blinked back frustrated tears. Michael had never been so curt with her. But he had a point, as much as she hated to accept it. His motives would always be questioned where Lucifer was concerned, not to mention the complicated emotions that clearly still simmered between the two men. She thought of Luce’s short temper whenever she would try and discuss Michael, or the day of the Fall.
Michael made a distressed sound when he paused his pacing and saw her expression. “I’m sorry. As much as I’m loath to admit it, you might have better luck taking your request to Gabriel.”
Mags laughed, waving away the vision impatiently. She was discomfited to find that rather than dissolving into mist as she was used to, this one seemed to slide from the skin like oil. She rubbed her arms uncomfortably, shivering. “You have more faith in my acting skills than I do, if you expect me to pretend that I like that cockroach long enough to ask him for help.”
“If you don’t want to speak with Gabe, we can take a stroll down the beach instead.” Michael gestured to the door, smiling despite the mild reprimand in his eyes. “Come. It’s a beautiful day, and your visions are not set in stone. Perhaps our meddling would even be the catalyst of this disaster.”
“Thank you, but I think I’ll have to take a rain check.” She smiled faintly. “You’re right, of course. Just because I saw it doesn’t mean it will come to pass. I think I’ll just enjoy the library for a while to take my mind off things and visit Raphael.Maybe he knows of some books we could search for another option.”
“Yes.” He smiled warmly. “That’s an excellent idea. Please, seek me out if you change your mind about the walk.”
She nodded absently and they parted ways. Michael headed towards the sparring fields, and after a moment, Mags turned down the hall leading to the grandiose library that spanned an entire building to itself. The gentle nudge in her mind was telling her not to ignore this. Michael was right that sometimes her visions never came to pass, but this didn’t feel like one of thosepossiblefutures.
Immersing herself in that chamber had only solidified the persistent suggestion that Armageddon was comingfast. Without Michael she had no hope of convincing Jehovah to hear her out, and Michael had proven himself nothing if not consistent over these long eons. If he didn’t change his own mind, it would not be swayed.
Michael didn’t believe in her vision. Luce didn’t believe that they could obtain this resource. But Mags knew the key to averting this crisis waited at the end of this hallway, and it was time to take matters into her own hands.
Michael often lost himself in sparring, in the rhythm of his breathing, the steadythunkas he struck out at the targets and found a mark. It helped him focus his mind and recenter when the racing of his heart replaced the racing of his thoughts. But today, Michael knocked down target after target and did not reach the calm he sought.
Today there was only the rush of blood in his ears and the lingering discomfort over what he had seen; over what it wouldmean if he was wrong. He refused any attempts for someone to partner him, choosing instead to abuse the inanimate targets, to allow himself to lose control and use his full strength.
He had seen the look on Mags’s face; there was genuine panic there. She knew her gift better than anyone, and she seemed utterly convinced that this future was not only certain, but coming quickly. Michael grunted as he put his fist clean through the leather bag. Finely ground sand poured out onto the packed dirt ground of the arena.
