What? Where am I? I --- oomph. I'm bound to a . . . feels like a chair. Hard, metal, yes . . . a chair. I am seated. Can't see anything. And
there's a weight around my neck. Heavy and thick, metallic but warmed by contact with my skin. A collar? The air is cold and smells like old death, death long ago forgotten in some hidden place where God's love never shines. Does the collar? ---- yes, or perhaps it's this place. No Songs or other Essence can I use. No, can't even ascend. I can feel the collar tingling very slightly with my attempts, deadening them, neutering. It is responsible. As it reacts to me I can feel its power. An artifact, a demonic artifact no doubt for this place reeks of
infernal influences. But I can't see. Nothing to hear . . . where am I? How did this happen? I was . . . yes, I was on the hill, doing my focusing,
essence exercises. And . . . wasn't there a sound? Was that my danger sense going off? Evidently it was. How did they come to render me thus without any efforts against them? I was . . . no. I had finished with the Shedite and we were split up. Yes, and Elizabeth was angry and Jael. Ah yes . . . now I remember. I ---- (sigh). Evidently Jael was correct. Obviously I haven't been around long enough to be very competent. I let my own mental wanderings deafen me to my primary purpose and my own innate ability! My own! I won't be of much good here. Wherever here is. Actually, where is here? Am I in a Tether or just some hide-out? I can't feel anything that might lead one way or the other. It smells like it's been used for these things for a long . . . these things, that would be torture and death. Angelic Trauma for some, perhaps, but not for me. Yes, not for me. And what kind of information would they get out of me. I have obviously been taken by the demons of the Colorado Springs variety. If they try to get information about the local situation I won't have much to say. I don't really know much, do I? Not here. Of course, they might push for Boulder but I don't have much to help with there either. Jael can move, I can move my shop, though I'd like to see them take it on. They probably think I know all about the local goings-on. Of course, death won't leave me in Trauma so I am not in any real danger . . . pain is never good, but I have had to tolerate it before.
Of course, I have never been captured before either. If she had ----
Wait.
"What the hell are you doing bringing him here? Are you trying to get us killed? There are two Tethers, one to War up there and one
over there to the Sword and they are probably just waiting for a reason to come down and swamp us. Why did you bring him here?"
"I didn't know what else to do with him. We just found him . . .he killed me. I want to know why."
"Hmmmm, you're a DEMON! That's why. That's what he does. If we are stormed then you had better use ever last measure of essence to
call up our Lady. Now go and deal with it while I make some phone calls."
Silence now, perhaps the sounds of a nervous pacing. I am not sure. Two female voices . . . are we in a Tether? Where is here? The first
woman sounded quick, capable. The second much slower. I killed . . . it must be the Djinn that I killed since the Shedite is gone forever. I guess some Demon Prince is looking down on a broken heart somewhere. (grim grin) Did it attune to me? That would make sense . . .that's what they do. But how did it capture me. I don't even remember a fight . . . it must have been drugs. I don't remember it, but some blow dart kind of thing. I saw that used in the Rhajjinghori Campaign in Sumatra and it was quite effective. Both Gideon and Ruth went down before we found that fellow in the trees. Very clever, but I had a monkey vessel I could use back then. I remember. How far that seems from this, now. No such possibilities this time, even if I had another vessel.
Do I have useful information? They must be aware of the Laurentian Soldiers. They must be. They know of the Tethers. What else is there
here? The wedding will be attended by an Archangel. Despite Laban-Lael's worries about disruptions, I do not believe there is actual
danger. It could be just curiosity on the part of the Djinn, or an imperative from its master. It is back from Trauma rather quickly, I should think. Perhaps it has a more important role in the region then I would have thought for such a generally worthless branch of hell's minions.
If it -----
Bright! A door, footsteps but I can't see anything. The light. Ok, raise my head and . . .yes, two women. The one --- probably the smarter one --- is tall and very elegant. Can't see the eyes but the hair is abundant and in a severe bun. The other . . .yes, the hulking form of a Djinn, even in a human guise. Overhead light now, single bulb --- her eyes are disgusted . . .at the Djinn. She is contemptuous of the Djinn. The room is tiled . . .stains in the corner. Efficient and straightforward, drain in the center for blood and other fluids. I meet the eyes of the taller woman. I will show nothing to them. Just look. Look.
(At this point the taller woman --- a Lilim --- resonated the quiet Rook and discerned his Needs up to Level III. Rather than being worried
about himself, she found him worried for his party members and feeling a powerful need to ascertain their situation. He also felt a need to verify the safety of the remaining Laurentian Soldier and, ultimately, the Lilim could feel Rook's Oaths. Although the light was too stark to allow Rook to see it, she paled as she began to suspect what sat in their midst.)
"You're a fool! You can't just kill him!" the taller woman spat at the Djinn. The Djinn was typically unmoved by this, I notice. They must be
used to this, being the most useless and hopeless of all of hell's sorry bands. A door. Where is . . .somewhere beyond what little I can see
outside this room, but I heard it. So did the woman. She's going to meet whoever it is, I suppose. She may be calling in someone to deal with me. Ah yes . . .stare stare stare from the Djinn. No consequence there.
Could they have the others in this place? I don't know how large a complex this might be and if they captured me . . .the others don't have my danger sense. It did not do much for me, but that's because of my pointless distractions. Jael has never made sense before . . .is it not
erroneous to expect her to do so now that she is working with me more closely? And Matt . . .the most rational thing I have ever seen from
him was our joint attack on that man from Nederland who ----
A new man. Tall, trenchcoat . . .oh, and a briefcase. Probably drugs in there. Or knives . . .or electrical equipment. I know that's effective. His eyes are quite cold. I wonder what band he is.
"This is the one?"
"Yes. Do what you have to but don't send him into Trauma ---- "
What?
" ---- We still want to get some information out of him."
He's staring at me now, hands down on his knees.
"Do you have a name?"
Oh no. I gave my name to Castledust after more than a decade of fighting. Not for you. I have no doubt that your forms of persuasion will have no honor. Go ahead, narrow your eyes. You won't see anything.
(The man resonates Rook's emotions and finds him calm and focused. There is no worry there and the man's eyes have narrowed in response to this curious reaction to what would normally be a grave and threatening situation.)
"You're not the least bit worried about this, are you? Fine. I don't make idle threats. Tell me or I'll take you to the edge of Trauma. If
you are lucky I may send you there because she has plans for you."
There they go again. Trauma. They must not know that I am a Malakite. But how? I killed the Shedite and the Djinn . . .what would lead them to think that I am other than Malakim? Is this an advantage? If they do push me into Trauma, thinking that will keep me quiet for long
enough to accomplish some goal that error could prove useful. But where would ----
A syringe. Eemm, injection. All right . . .I am strong and I can, hopefully, resist whatever he put in me. Truth serum? I can feel it . . .trying to relax me. I feel it pull in my shoulders, behind my eyes and in my loins. Downward . . .relax, it says. No. This vessel is strong . . .I built it that way.
Push . . .tense, tight, focus.
"What is your name?"
Tense, tight, focus . . .it's becoming easier. I can do this. Eyes . . .keep them clear, looking into his lifeless orbs. Easier . . .yes, I can do this.
Not a serious problem.
"How about the names of your companions . . .the pretty Asian women?"
Yes, they must have been watching us. Of course, we have hardly maintained any form of secrecy. Not my specialty, of course --- we
Malakim of Michael are not usually sent places to skulk in shadows --- but with my companions flying about in scatter-brained and useless
endeavors and shaking the Symphony with Tethers all around it is not surprising. Of course, I did kill two demons. Are Jael and Arabis safe?
"How about the renegade?"
What? What renegade? There is one in our . . .Bob? Arashiel? Ari does not seem . . .no, probably Bob. Oh, I see frustration? Not in the habit of encountering silence? I suppose another dose will be following soon.
"Why are you here?"
Because your filthy compatriots brought me here, you ignorant sending. Hmmm, the drug must be having some effect for me to be having thoughts like that! I am relieved I did not give voice to it. Of course, he might be able to sense my emotions. No way to know . . .stare. Just stare.
"Who's your Superior?"
Stare. I can act like a Djinn if need be. Oh, more of the drug. Not very . . .ow. His precision in preparing the mixture is not matched with
care in its administration. I knew this would come and . . .oh, yes. I can feel it. My legs feel as if I have been doing kicks for hours and my
chest . . .I can feel the pull to breath more slowly, my neck is ---no, push. Tight, push and tighten. Flex, quietly and down deep. Deep muscle tense, yes. This will work. No answers yet for you, my interrogator.
"I really need to know why you are here. Why are you interested in Elizabeth and Susannah Eason? ---- "
The Easons? Why not the men? Or is ----
" ---- We may not be at cross purposes. This may be a terrible mistake. If you answer I will see that you are released."
He may be right but I can feel the lie in his statement. He has no intention of releasing me . . .ever, of allowing me to live or return to
Heaven. Yet his statement has the ring of possibility. I have heard of the infernal and Heaven occasionally teaming up against some greater
evil, some other aspect of the infernal. But cross purposes or not, I will not talk under these conditions and I will NEVER talk to a demon.
Cross purposes can be sorted out by those pandering members of our party, like Matt. No, you will have no words from me until you force
them from my lips with your foul and deceitful ----
"If not you then your compatriots . . .and they will speak to me."
No! That is not allowable. They are . . .they are weaker, except for the ancient Jael and . . .no, no. Could they? And I wouldn't be there to
protect them!
(the man, opening his resonance toward Rook after his statement, sensed Rook's feelings to this statement and was pleased, though he did not show as much to Rook.)
"I ask for your cooperation. Still no answer? Is someone attuned to you? Perhaps the pretty one outside of Susannah's?"
Would that be Arashiel? She's attuned to Susannah.
"She didn't come to your aid during your capture. You fought alone. Perhaps her loyalty is flawed. Perhaps she will tell us"
Not likely. She fought well and ----
What! Such a horrible scream. A woman . . .nearby. Calculated for effect? Perhaps, and if so then it was very effective. I feel so loose . . .I can't look at those dead eyes any longer. The stain in the corner, the tile floor, the drain, my boots still coated with mud and pieces of dried grass . . .scream! Scream! Scream! Eeeieigh, I can't listen to that again! No, stop it. Stop it! Why can't I move. Someone . . .I need ----I need, move! MOVE! Stop screaming! No, I must regain control. The drug . . .press against the lightness, no . . ..don't give in Rook. Think, Rook. Think and focus.
"I must say I am surprised. I did not think that you would be so willing to sacrifice your friends for your pride."
(Resonate! Rook feels disgust toward himself for having broken and a contempt for the man who was pathetic and dishonorable enough to have used drugs. The man wondered what would happen if he were to break one of Rook's fingers. Rook would try to do nothing but he would scream, his control weakened by the drug. If the man were to produce one of Rook's compatriots and begin hurting them Rook would lose all semblance of control and writhe uncontrollably in his chair, trying to escape. He would try anything --- Song, Essence, cries to God and Michael --- to escape and do his duty to his friends.)
No, I am not prideful. I ---- !!!!!!!!!AAAIGHGHGHGH!!!!!!!!! HE STABBED MY HAND, THAT BASTARD! YOU INFERNAL SENDING, YOU BASTARD, YOU WORTHLESS ----
"You are so determined, a credit to your Superior, whoever it is. You are accustomed to pain? You've done this before, I can see. Ah,
calming yourself down. Admirable. The sight of blood does not bother you. Yes, controlling the pain. And they think that you're a Cherub!"
Control. Pain is pain. Pain is outside. I am above it. Above. My hand is not here. My vessel is free of pain. No pain to ---- Oh, why is he
leaning so close to my face? No.
"I don't think you're a Cherub. You'd be reacting."
"What if I don't have any attunements?" I ask, gritting my teeth to try and stop the words . . .but they come unbidden. Eeh, look at his
triumph. Coward.
"Why don't you tell me?"
"Go to hell."
He's smiling at that one. At least he's pulling away from my face . . .that horrid whisper like metal on bone, grating.
"We'll do that later. I don't think you'll enjoy it. There are some there who would like to see you. Now, what is your relationship with the
Easons?"
Focus. No talking, Rook. Just focus on pushing the pain away and ---- !!!!! DON'T TWIST THE KNIFE YOU ------!!!!!!
AAAIGHGHGHGCHCHC . . ..oh, why is that woman screaming? THAT HURTS! Why is ----
"Maybe Susannah is my attunement." I can't help but talk but at least I can still maintain some control over what I say. It won't last.
"Obviously you're not a Seraph. If I take you down there it will not be pretty. There will be nothing left."
"Is she one of mine?"
I can see his satisfaction. Prick. He is not answering . . .I can feel another question bubbling up . . .is it one of mine? Are they torturing
Jael? Or Arabis? I want . . .I . . ..how can I get OUT of this chair! I need to get out! Or Arashiel. The Djinn might have attuned to her. Oh,
no Rook. Don't say anything. Push . . .wait, idea.
"Is she dressed?"
"Does it matter?"
"I guess not." Trick. No . . .he's not biting. I don't have the focus. I can't feel my . . .that's helpful, at least. Oh, just relax. I've been so
agitated by this stupidity. Shoulders . . .yes, relax. The air is foul but I can't get enough. Oh, no Rook! NO! But it's so . . ...
Why is the Djinn leaving?
"You're not a Laurentian. You're not Dreams. We could make a deal."
No. You will have no deal from me, fool.
"Hmmm, you don't seem moved. You are not concerned with your life . . .with losing your existence?"
(Resonate. No, Rook is not concerned with losing these things. Although the drug is making him somewhat giddy by this time, he feels as much anger with himself with his loss of control as he does amusement over this supposition that he might fear these things.)
"You have nothing worthy to trade . . .no information I need." That was good Rook. He doesn't have anything I want. He doesn't. He will get
no bargains from me, no compliance . . .but so relaxed. So just . . .. . . "I am sure that this room has been used for this before. The stain in the
corner . . .vomit, perhaps. Vomit is acidic and would eat into the tile and leave a stain. Of course it could be bile . . .liver juices . . .but you'd have to be pretty precise to cut those out, and the liver's a bleeder and they would die quickly. Bile . . .gall bladder. Someone with precision hands and great anatomical knowledge ----"
Why am I rambling?
" ---- would have been able to do that."
"Bring in the woman."
Focus. Rook . . .focus . . .stand against ---- OH NO! IT'S JAEL! LOOK AT HER, SHE'S BEATEN AND ----- push push push push ------ JAEL!!
. . .Why won't these things BREAK! Let me GO! Damn you! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! OW! My hand, JAEL! Stop . . .wait. He's . . .it could be a trick. A Song to change the appearance of . . .someone else to look like . . .her, yes. She would not . . .it's a trick. It could be a trick. Down, Rook. Come on angel. Control. Get . . ..CONTROL!
"No. She would want to die with honor as I do. She will come back. She would return from Trauma, her honor intact, and then find -----
AAAAIGHGHGHGH"
He broke my FINGER! OWOWOWOWOWAIAIGHGHG
(Rook passes out at this point. Unbeknownst to the angel who has never slept before, he passes from the living nightmare of his interrogation into a nightmare of an altogether novel sort. Already having caught the attention of Beleth, he enters her realm now.)
Where am I? Dark . . .still collared but I am out of the chair. Dark. Ow . . .my hand still hurts . . .mostly numb now. Cold here, and ancient
smelling. Wind . . .am I outside. I don't see any stars. How did I come here? Did they release me? Was I rescued? Where . . .
"Hello?"
Echoes . . . it sounds bigger. I feel that the drug has left my system somewhat. I am mournful of my loss of control but I know that the drug made me . . . can I bind my hand? Yes, this will rip. It will be hard with only one usable hand but that is why God made teeth. And to tear the foul flesh from demons. The grass is springy . . .artificial? And, yes . . . I hear voices now. They are far away, almost mumbling. I can hear . . . make out. Failure? Lost . . . yes, those words, and someone crying. Such a piteous sound. Where . . .
"Where are you?"
I can't find them. They are moving. Fine . . .I will sit down. This is probably some demonic game, some Song induced hallucination to . . .oooh, it's a very real feeling hallucination. The ground is changing . . .like I'm sitting on. YUCK! Feathers and moisture . . .flesh, cold . . .like dead bodies. Dead Malakim! No, this must be a hallucination . . .oh, but the touch was so real. Eweh! YUCK! I can't stop shivering, that touch won't GO . . ..AWAY! Go away! Go away. Oh, no . . .stand . . .pace . . .that will help. Ok, pace. Pace. Pace. Who is that? Light and approaching figures. Two Djinn, a Habbalah, a Calabite . . .like my . . .LIKE MY PARTY! One of the Djinn ---"Where were you? We needed you."
(Even in the dream realm not entirely free of the effects of the drug, Rook's mind is overwhelmed by this and he bursts into uncontrollable laughter. It is not a mirthful sound.)
"JUST KILL ME!"
I will lie down, hold my hands out and bare my throat. Just kill me.
Stop giggling, angel. STOP! Get control of yourself . . .darkness now.
Oooh, those lumpy forms underneath me. I can't . . .I wish I could stop feeling that. I don't want to feel that. Why is my eye itching? Is
something moving on . . .my temple. Don't touch. Just die, Rook. Die angel. Lie here and die. Mind down, mind down, mind down.
Oh . . .I am back in the chair. How did I get back here?
(Having awakened from his pain and drug induced sleep full of nightmares, Rook is resonated by the Lilim, who is alone. She senses his fundamental need to get his hand taken care of and, eager to hook him when she can, she proceeds to clean his hand with antiseptic.)
"Color me impressed. You held out for a long time."
Why is she cleaning my hand?
"There," ---- standing and wiping her hands as she places the cleaning solution and soiled cotton swabs aside "----you can probably feel the
hook. You're celestial form would have a bracelet on now. You'll be doing me a little favor at some point."
Oh, such repugnance I feel at the thought. No, I will NOT be doing any such thing, failure of a temptress. If I survive this I will evade
your pathetic attempts at subjugation.
"I can get you out of here, you know. They're moving you downstairs and you know what that means. First Kronos or Asmodeous will get you, then Vapula, who will be very mean to you or maybe my Lady. The discord will kill you eventually."
I think not.
"Or you could jump."
Merely a rumor, foul succubus . . .there has never been a Malakite who has actually done that. Let them kill me. I will never succumb willingly.
Death in all its forms would be preferable.
"No deal? Too bad. They'll probably keep you in a cage in Shal-mari."
Good. She's gone. I can feel her infernal snare in me. How loathsome, how perfectly revolting to think of having any aspect of hell in my
being. I could rip her head from her body and eat her spine from her still spurting neck . . .
Calm. Rook. Angel . . .calm. The drug is gone. I need to think rationally. Ok . . .what do I know here. No, first. What can I do? I can do nothing. I have no access to any of my abilities. I cannot summon or call or change . . .no, there is nothing I can do. Physically, I can not
break these bindings or elude the collar. So, what do I know? They are interested in the Easons. Yes, but I should wait to consider that
until I am out of here. Thinking about it now will yield nothing. As I can do nothing and further consideration will provide neither succor nor
enlightenment . . .hmmm, perhaps I will do what Giles chided me for not doing. Daydream. Good old Giles. How I could use a good game of chess right now. The clear function of pieces, the strategy, the interwoven . . .such clarity there. Yes, I could use some of that.
(Rook continues his mental wanderings, trying to push healing energy into his hand and otherwise not think about anything. Hours pass.)
"Tell me about the tapestry."
Oh. He's back. I was so busy thinking about . . .what tapestry? The one Arashiel mentioned? What did she say about that? Does Susannah
have it? I think that she does. I don't know anything about a tapestry.
(The man senses that Rook is truly in the dark on this subject and is angered by the fact that he has been putting out so much effort for nothing.)
Why is he taking off my boot? Pincers!? AAAAIGHGHGH! My toenail . . .focus focus focus focus focus focus, Rook. Focus on
AIAIAIGHGHGHGH!
"Stop! Stop . . .I don't know anything about a tapestry! They mentioned it but I have not had the time to get any more information!"
!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that hurts
"Who told you that?"
Think Rook, clearly. Come on angel.
"Joshua, Petrinio and Nicholas . . .they told me."
A lie . . .dead angels, good compatriots long ago lost. Does he believe?
"If you'd mentioned that earlier we could have saved a lot of effort."
"I don't care."
"You fancy being disbanded?"
Rebellious --- "The sooner the better."
Fine, go . . .leave me to bleed here since my hand is now crusted over. Oh, I HATE foot wounds. That is very painful. Oh . . .my reprieve is
brief. So brief? Why has he brought her back?
"Do what you want with him but don't kill him. If he Traumas we lose him."
Are they taking me to hell now? I just hope ----
<<<<<<< we are coming >>>>>>>
Jael?
(The man in the trenchcoat, accessing the power of the collar around Rook's neck, pulls him down to hell. Although he is comforted by this fleeting message, taking heart that if Jael is still free then the others might be as well, Rook is nevertheless assailed by the horrors of hell. Screams of pain and perfect agony surround him, filling his mind and debilitating it despite his control, as the drug could not. Mindless of his captor or his movement, Rook screams as his mind is filled with nightmares of his darkest fears, fears which Beleth has seen and is now feeling free to allow her power to build upon. Rook fears failure to his compatriots, yes, but before his master most of all. To fail Michael would be the ultimate of losses. The dream worsens this vision by having Michael, in his all-consuming wrath, take revenge on the people who currently occupy Rook's life. First there is Giles and those humans who work for Rook at the Board. As the Symphony resounds in a numbing clamor, Michael pays no heed and turns his bloody fists and teeth to Matt, Bob and Arashiel. He alternates between ripping them apart and bludgeoning them with the limbs of Giles and the hapless humans. Arabis flies down to save her comrades, Rook watching helplessly, and is struck so dissonant by Michael that she begins falling toward hell. A figure rises to meet her and though Rook has never seen him, he is certain this is the Arnu that Arabis so fears. Screaming in anguish over this worst of fates, she is stripped of her grace and rendered a demon, taken down into the bowels of innumerable screaming souls and quenchless fire. Rook, feeling as if his very essence were being ripped away, sees Giles return to protect him, toward whom Michael is now approaching. Jael appears as well and the two cry out in fevered protests against the Archangel nearing them. Rook can not move. He can only focus on the face of his bloodied master and the impassioned cries of his friends. As Michael reaches them, he thrusts his pointed hands forward, suddenly and violently. The hands pierce through Jael's and Giles' throats, killing them, and wrap around Rook's neck. The bodies of his friends now flopping lifelessly on Michael's hands, their souls now destroyed forever, Michael begins to choke Rook, shaking him, eyes boring into Rook's soul as it wafts away. "You failed me. You failed ME!")