Page 92 of Endless Terrors
Heilel would bring Persephone back to his world. To the Maker’s world, where death didn’t exist and she would live forever. There was just one glaring problem.
Humans were forbidden in their realm.
Only their souls could enter, and only when their physical beings had expired on Earth. Heilel could easily accompany Persephone’s other form to his dimension, but spirits were unpredictable, and they found his presence unsettling. If Heilel lost hold of Persephone’s soul, he might never find her again. He could doom her to eternity in another dimension—one full of darkness and monsters—or condemn her to wander Earth as a ghost. It was too risky, he decided.
The Maker had never given a reason for this rule, but then, Heilel had never questioned any of His commands before. Whatever the reason, this was the only way to save Persephone. Heilel had considered every angle, every possibility, and bringing her home was all that could ensure their future together. Magick always had loopholes, Heilel assured Persephone as he told her of his plan.
She agreed. Not because she was consumed by the prospect of death, as Heilel was, but because Persephone was obsessed with living. Seeing. The walls of the Garden had begun to chafe, and this was her chance to go beyond them.
They decided not to say goodbye to the others. Secretly, Heilel worried Demeter would resort to more than arguments and persuasion if she knew what they planned to do. Persephone couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her parents in pain or hearing the children cry.
As morning spread over the horizon, the starcrossed lovers left the Garden together, taking to the sky. Convinced their love would persuade the Maker to change His rules.
There was no such thing as fear. Not then.
But when Heilel and Persephone arrived at the gates, they were firmly closed. A lone figure stood in front of them, and though he wore a helmet, Heilel recognized him immediately.
Michael was an Archangel. One of the Seven. He held a shield in one hand and a flaming sword in the other. An angel’s weapon only lit when they intended to use it, and the sight of those blue, crackling lights made Heilel approach more slowly. Doubt had begun to creep in. His hand tightened on Persephone’s waist, and she covered it with her own in a light, comforting touch. The only sound on the staircase was Persephone’s footsteps against the precious stones. They drew to a halt in front of the other angel, their heads tilted back.
Michael was the largest of all the angels, and his wingspan was the length of three human men. Where Heilel was bright and golden, Michael was dark-skinned and black-haired. His features were blunt and strong. Unmoving, much like the angel himself. Heilel had never known his brother to disobey a command or break a rule.
“Michael,” he said.
His brother looked back at him without any flicker of feeling. Michael was ancient, as far as angels went, and he was nearly as reticent as the Maker. He didn’t bother with greetings, and he didn’t try to soften the blow as he replied, “She cannot enter.”
Heilel didn’t move. “She’s innocent.”
“Her innocence is irrelevant. She shouldn’t be here, and you have caused an equational disruption. Balance must be restored.”
“And how do you intend to restore it?” Heilel hardly recognized the sound of his own voice. Suddenly it came to him, the name for what he was feeling. It was like a faint whisper at the edge of a dream. Fear.
Following his instincts, Heilel sent a distress signal to his other siblings. Come to the gates. Help us.
He’d barely finished the summons when Michael sifted. The Archangel reappeared at Persephone’s side, and his arm rose. The flaming sword filled Heilel’s vision. He drew his own weapon without thinking, and he wrenched Persephone out of the way with a panicked shout. “No!”
Too slow. Heilel watched with helpless horror as his brother’s burning sword came down, and the edge cut through Persephone’s side.
Blood splattered over the pearls of the gates, red as a sunset in the Garden.
Heilel caught hold of Persephone and lowered her to the steps, keeping his eyes on Michael. The smell of burnt flesh clung to the air. Heilel shielded his lover as he moved into a fighting stance.
His brother turned to him. The flames moved in Michael’s eyes as he intoned, “The Maker has ordered your execution, as well.”
Like the star he was named after, Heilel moved in a shining blur. Michael might have been older, but Heilel was one of Heaven’s most talented soldiers. They were evenly matched, and neither showed signs of yielding or tiring. They sifted, struck, blocked, retreated. Their battle could have gone on for days.
But Heilel was distracted.
While he struggled to fend off Michael, his attention kept swinging back to Persephone, his beloved Persephone, whose blood had flown through the air like a Garden rainstorm. To his surprise, his brother Gabriel knelt at her side now, holding hands over the girl’s wound. He was one of the few angels with the gift of healing. He must’ve heard Heilel’s call.
A surge of hope went through him. Heilel renewed his efforts, swinging his sword at Michael’s so fast that even he could barely see it. He slid away like a sound in the night and returned in a rush of golden rage. Like a lion defending his mate. Then he glanced over at Gabriel and Persephone again.
That was when Michael struck.
Heilel didn’t react quickly enough, and the flaming sword went through him in much the same way it had wounded his beloved. The prince gave an agonized shout just before his knees hit the hard stones, but he managed to raise his blade again. Michael’s next assault went through Heilel’s entire frame like a ripple. He gritted his teeth and tried to sift, but blood flowed freely from his side, bright and blinding. His strength poured out with it. He tried to crawl toward Persephone instead.
Michael reappeared in front of him, blocking the way. Even now, his expression was unchanged, and there was no hint of mercy in his dark eyes. Heilel knew he’d been defeated. Wanting the last thing he saw in this world to be Persephone, to be someone he loved, he lowered his head and waited for the end.
A shadow fell over him. Heilel steeled himself for another burst of pain.
