Chapter II

“What in Enlil’s name were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?”

Azazel hung his head in shame as the much larger angel loosed his volley of verbal abuse. Every word Arioch spoke Azazel knew he’d earned all too well through his rash actions. Even Arioch’s invocation of the dead god’s name. The marble walls of Arioch’s office echoed the older warrior’s jabs and insults back at Azazel, as if the whole room was shouting at him.

The angel paced the room, and Azazel flinched every time Arioch’s hand brushed past the sword hanging on his wall. Light shone off Arioch’s silver armor, blinding Azazel for a moment. “First you let the humans into the demon-infested forest, led them in circles, and got not one… but three of them killed! Then, as if that wasn’t enough damage, you burned the forest down! The Archangel of Kernun tells me the Green God is furious, and demands you be punished! I don’t even know what punishment would fit the destruction you caused!”

“I…” Azazel stammered. “I… well… at least I…”

“At least you killed the demons?” Arioch’s nostrils flared. His gauntlets dug into Azazel’s shoulders. the younger angel was certain he was about to be crushed like a bundle of twigs. “Need I remind you again? Our job is not merely to ‘slay demons,’ Azazel! It is to protect those who revere the gods!” Arioch jabbed Azazel in the chest with his index finger. “You are a malakhim, a messenger! You are not a fravashi warrior, you are not a nakash assassin! Your role, your specific role, is to act as an intermediary between the mortals and us up above. Your weapons and training were for emergencies only!”

“The people were terrified!” Azazel protested. “They worried they would not survive the night unless I did something!”

“You let yourself get swept up in their panic!” Arioch bellowed. “No doubt, the prettiest maiden in the village batted her eyes at you, and in your lust-fueled desire to prove yourself a hero, you rushed off to do something stupid. What? Did she sit in your lap? Whisper sultry seductions in your ear? Promise to do things most women won’t do? Angels are better than that. We must be better than that.”

As Arioch gave an all-too-accurate guess of the events of that night, Azazel recalled every cautionary tale he was ever told about young angels who’d lost their head under nearly identical circumstances. The one thing his mentors had warned him and his classmates again and again not to do was exactly what he’d done. “I understand. I will take any punishment you see fit.”

“You’re damn right you will!” Arioch released Azazel’s shoulders and fell into his chair behind his desk. “Present yourself to Shoftiel; she will know what to do.”

A lump rose in Azazel’s throat and threatened to force its way out, but he swallowed hard. Rumor had it, Shoftiel’s punishments had brought even some of the most iron-willed angels to the brink of madness.

Outside Arioch’s office, Azazel dragged his feet, and prayed to Chronos that the punishment he was about to face would go by quickly. All around him, angels watched and shook their heads. Some whispered pity to each other. Others snickered at his misfortune. Azazel turned his gaze downward, to his reflection in the golden tiles beneath his feet.

The air was always so much thinner up here in the heavenly cities. Between that and the talons of fear which gripped his ribcage, Azazel could hardly breathe.

All too soon, he stood before Shoftiel in the city streets, under clear blue skies. She was a fravashi, as evidenced by her wings spreading from her lower back, just above her hips. Her long tail feathers were like a skirt covering the backs of her legs. She wore a dark blue robe, with a hood pulled up over her head. Underneath her hood was a leather falconer’s cowl, concealing her eyes. Some said she simply had no eyes.

Standing next to her was a creature which looked like a bear who walked upright like a man: an ursarth. This bear wore a black kilt around his waist, and a leather mask upon his face. His mask, too, concealed his eyes

Shoftiel pointed the mace in her right hand at Azazel. “Strip off your armor and kneel.”

Azazel fumbled with the straps. His shaking fingers and sweaty palms made removing his armor unusually difficult, and the longer he took, the more irritated the ursarth’s grunts grew.

Finally, Azazel’s torso was bare, and he wore only his sand-colored trousers. He dropped to both knees and silently prayed for strength to endure what would come next. He saw no whip or cane in Shoftiel’s hand, neither were any such instruments of castigation in the bear’s paws. The young angel did his best not to let his imagination run wild with the possible tortures these two had in mind.

Shoftiel spoke loudly enough for all observers to hear. “Azazel, son of Temlakos, you have been charged and found guilty with gross misconduct endangering the lives of mortals. For this, you have been sentenced to corporal punishment. Have you anything to say in your defense?”

Azazel opened his mouth to speak, looked up at the ursarth, and closed it again. He knew that trying to justify his crime or explain why he did it would come off as insolent. The unrepentant usually faced far worse punishments.

“Very well, then,” said Shoftiel, her voice distant and cold. She drew a seleni coin from her purse and held it tightly in her fist. Before Azazel’s eyes appeared a sphere of water, which hovered in the air. “Begin!” Shoftiel shouted.

The ursarth seized Azazel’s head in both of his paws, then shoved his face into the watery orb. Azazel’s body flinched and flailed the longer the bear held him in.

Agony in Azazel’s chest, and the young angel’s mind was ablaze with panic. He fought to pull his head out of the water, but strong paws held him fast. The more he struggled, the tighter the bear angel squeezed.

A sudden jerk backwards, and Azazel gasped in that precious air. The pain in his chest alleviated, but only for a second before the ursarth plunged him back into the water again.

The second time was even worse than the first. Azazel’s throat felt like it would collapse, his chest and stomach like a fire burned within them. His wings flapped in a vain, involuntary attempt to escape drowning.

Just as Azazel was sure he was about to die, the ursarth withdrew his head from the water again, and Azazel sucked in as much air as he could.

Shoftiel leaned in close to him and whispered. “Should I have my assistant kill you for what you did? You could have destroyed that whole village with your recklessness. Do you deserve to live?”

Azazel wanted to speak, but it felt as if he’d swallowed needles. He couldn’t form the words.

“Do you?” Shoftiel demanded again. “Nod or shake your head.”

Azazel could barely think, but he knew he had to provide some kind of answer. Would it be better to say yes and hope they took pity on him? Or better to say no and hope that his humility would save his life?

But he’d thought about it for too long. Shoftiel nodded to the ursarth, and the bear angel plunged Azazel’s head into the watery sphere once again and held him in.

Azazel screamed, and bubbles filled the water around him. His whole body twitched and thrashed, and his fingernails clawed at the ursarth’s paws. All faded to black, and Azazel felt sure his chest would cave in.

A rush of air into his nostrils.

The ursarth had pulled Azazel out of the sphere again just in time and threw him onto the gilded street. Spurts of water flowed from Azazel’s mouth as he coughed and gasped for air. He held a hand to his burning chest and tried desperately to will the pain away.

Seth… please… take pity on me…

Shoftiel knelt next to him and whispered in his ear. “When you take the lives of the innocent, whether by your sword or by your foolishness, know that there will always be punishment awaiting you. Seth has called upon us to uphold justice. Be glad that justice does not require that you die this day.”