‘But how?’ Zoe asked, clearly confused. ‘How would he make a new world?’
Silently my mind ticked over, and I wasn’t completely surprised when Phoenix spoke. ‘By killing the Weigher of all Souls,’ he said, finally freeing the information that, as an angel, he was prohibited from sharing.
Steph snorted. ‘What? God? Does Sammael even know if God exists?’
Phoenix raised his eyebrows and wandered over to Steph’s laptop that rested open on the coffee table. ‘Sammael was once an angel of the Sole, Steph. There is every chance he knows everything.’ He sat and started to tap away on the keyboard.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘But that still doesn’t mean he can just go and … kill … God. Does it?’
Phoenix spun the laptop around to face the room and flicked through screens showing different pieces of artwork.
‘These are all images of the Final Judgement. In the centre you will see that there is one who holds the scales for all souls. Look closely,’ he invited the room. ‘Tell me what you see.’
I didn’t need to look. I knew my art. I knew these works. But that wasn’t why I had the answer. Phoenix had already told me in as many words.
‘He has wings,’ I said.
Steph looked closer and I heard her gasp. ‘The Weigher of all Souls is an angel,’ she said.
‘The Commander and Chief. The most loyal and ruthless. And above all else, irreplaceable,’ Phoenix said.
‘Michael,’ Gray said softly.
No one disagreed.
Phoenix closed the laptop and stood up, briefly meeting all the wide eyes in the room then settling on mine. ‘By killing Michael, Sammael will extinguish humanity’s ultimate judgement, thereby removing the greatest of consequences.’
‘Heaven and Hell,’ Steph said.
Phoenix nodded. ‘No human knows what they truly are, what awaits them after death, but the idea is enough to make most people consider the final outcome. Take away accountability, conscience will soon follow, and the world …’
He looked down. ‘The world will slip into anarchy.’
‘With Sammael at the helm as its new god,’ Lincoln said.
CHaPteR tweNty-NINe
‘He who does not punish evil commands it to be done.’
Leonardo da Vinci
from my place, lying on my stomach, wedged between Lincoln and Carter on the roof of the Governor Nicholls Street Wharf, I had a perfect view of the river. I could see both the battleship we had hovering just around the bend and the steamboat glamoured beneath a thick fog anchored in the middle of the Mississippi.
‘Once we get your boy, we should just green light the navy boys to blow up the whole damn thing. You know, simplify,’ Carter said, still grumpy it had taken him the longest to break down the glamour and reveal the steamboat. Lincoln hadn’t needed any time at all. Our powers were once again linked. What I saw, he saw.
Of course, that went both ways.
‘There are humans on that ship,’ I said, even as I shuddered. Having a connection to Lincoln’s power meant that I was again able to see the shadows left behind by exile interference. Almost the entire city was shaded. I’d never imagined that something so tainted was possible.
Mia, lying on the other side of Lincoln, looked appalled. We had teamed her with us since we were in the most exposed position. Mia was a senior Ghoster and her skill-set meant she could produce a ‘look away’. It was similar to a glamour, but instead of making us look like something else, she made us look like nothing. If a pair of eyes – exile or human – looked upon us, they would simply not register that we were there.
‘Yeah, well, they made their choice. Greater good, purple. Sometimes you gotta make the tough decisions,’ Carter pushed.
The worst thing was, as much as I wanted to smack Carter over the head for even considering it, I knew there would be many who would agree with his point of view and I worried that with the high number of soon-to-arrive Grigori, including Josephine, this view would receive more attention.
I shook my head. ‘We don’t kill people, Carter. That’s not our job. Nor our right.’
‘Is that what you tell yourself?’ he asked, rolling slightly from one hip to the other to reposition. ‘You see the line so clear?’
‘Of course,’ I said, though my voice wavered. There had been a time I’d found the choice to return exiles, to take my blade to them, a difficult one.
Carter shrugged. ‘Maybe it is. But that doesn’t change the fact they went and got themselves human bodies. We call them exiles but you can’t pretend there is nothing human about them.’
‘We give them a choice, Carter. It’s the most we can do. They choose,’ Lincoln said.
Carter snorted, making me feel uncomfortable because I felt an element of what he was saying had merit and according to him that made me a hypocrite. ‘You really think they can choose anything? They’re insane. Their choice will only ever reflect that.’