Soul Guardian

Gabriel could feel the pressure settling down on him. Metatron hadn’t been seen or heard from in days, and his informants had no new information on hell’s preparations for the coming war. There was activity, to be sure. Something was going on down there, but he didn’t know what.

His attempts to search for the missing angel had come up empty. Metatron had completely vanished, or been killed. Gabriel knew who was probably to blame for that. Bael Sharoth was one of the few demons capable of such a thing. The Baron might even have caught onto the fact that he was being watched, which would be a reasonable motive for him to attack the Metatron.

If they’ve decided to strike first and take one of ours, the Archangel thought, It wouldn’t be a bad idea to retaliate. After all, they had been the ones to break the truce. Metatron had told him to attack Bael and his family on Christmas day, but there was no point in waiting. The Baron might continue to pick off heaven’s leadership to weaken them before the coming battle.

Gabriel stood up from his desk and called out to his secretary, “I want everyone under my command in full kit, ready to go, by tomorrow morning.”

The rather skinny angel rushed into the office with a startled expression on his face. “What should I tell them? Is it another readiness drill, sir?”

The Archangel almost told him that war was starting, but that would tip his hand too early. “Yes, of course,” Gabriel said, “After the drill we will be doing some training too. Tell them to pack as if they were going to spend the next week fighting demons.”

“Of course, sir!” the secretary replied before he ran off to do whatever it was he did.

Gabriel watched him go, then shut his office door and locked it. Metatron had said that if Bael and his family were killed, it would kick off the war the Archangel so dearly wanted. He was fuzzy on the specifics, but they didn’t matter. Orders were orders, war was war, and he couldn’t wait to get started.

***

Meanwhile in Granny’s bookshop, another kind of war was brewing. The books seemed to have lost all respect for him and the werewolf was willing to bet he knew who was to blame. It was him, he was to blame.

“I knew I should have burned you troublemakers for heat,” the werewolf muttered as he watched an army of hardcovers finish redecorating his shop. They had given it a full makeover, complete with sale signs and promotional window stickers. Business was booming, and Granny hated every moment of it. He hadn’t had an uninterrupted afternoon nap since the uprising started.

“You!” Granny called out as a familiar young witch walked out of the back stacks, “How did you get in here?”

Six gave him a stern look. “I installed a portal in my bedroom library. It is much more convenient than walking here whenever I want to borrow a book.”

The werewolf facepalmed. “You know, some people pay for my books,” he said with more than a hint of annoyance.

“Well, fortunately for me, I’m not one of those people,” the young witch shot back before returning to her business. Bael had told her to pack for a week long trip and she was on the search for some light reading material. Perhaps a tasty tome or juicy grimoire.

Six stroked the spines of various volumes as she passed, occasionally stopping to return a book or grab a new one. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” she said, “Books must be flying off the shelves.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Granny grumbled, “It’s a nonstop ruckus in here. The noise of it keeps me up at night.”

The young witch couldn’t imagine anything keeping the werewolf from his beloved naps, but decided not to call him out. That would be rude. Besides, she had books to gather.

Granny tried to make small talk with the girl pillaging his shop. “I heard you were starting school soon. Are you excited?”

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“Yes, and no,” Six said as she tried to decide if twenty books was enough to tide her over for the coming week, “On the one hand, I love learning. But I find I do a better job of it when left to my own devices.”

“That’s not what school is about though, is it?” the werewolf asked, “Sure, you learn a lot, but it’s the friends you meet and memories you create that make it worthwhile.”

Six cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Oh yes, I had a lot of fun. I was an allstar athlete, you know,” Granny said with pride, “You could say I really blossomed during my teenage years. But now I’m just a tired werewolf in an equally sleepy town. My best days are far behind me.”

“How tragic,” the young witch said as she retreated into the back stacks where nobody would bother talking to her. Granny was alright, but the werewolf was much too chatty for her current mood. Six struggled under the weight of the upcoming week’s reading as she walked.

Truthfully, she was looking forward to school. It seemed like a quintessential part of a young girl’s life, and she would be a fool not to give it a fair chance. Sure, schools were full of people. Unfortunately, they were people her own age. But there were also books, so she figured it would probably be a total wash at worst.

Six positioned herself in front of the portal Bael and Maharet had made for her. It looked like an antique mirror hanging from a wall. Granny was right, she should probably start paying for the books she took. But that was a problem for another day. “Library Card,” the young witch said, speaking the words that served as a password for this side of the gateway.

She stepped through and said “cookies”, the password for the mirror in her bedroom. There was no sensation of traveling. Six walked in one mirror, and out the other. She looked down to see a small paperback tugging at her ankle socks. Evidently it had hitched a ride through the portal when she wasn’t looking.

The young witch set her other books down and picked up the slim orange volume. “What kind of name is Bunnicula?” Six asked as she skimmed over the blurb on the back of the cover, “Are you a good book, or a bad book?”

The thin paperback quivered excitedly in her hands. She would have to read it to find out.

***

“What do you mean you aren’t coming?” Bael asked as he went over his packing list for the trip, “Don’t you want to go camping with us?”

Maharet did not, in fact, wish to go anywhere near nature if she could avoid it. Luckily, the other women in town had given her the perfect way out. “I would, but it’s tradition for the wives to stay at home and prepare for the first week of school. You wouldn’t want me to miss out on that, would you?”

“I suppose not,” Bael said with a frown, “I certainly appreciate you taking all that on.” For a moment the Baron looked like he wanted to say something, but he went back to packing instead. Bael had things of his own to do.

“I know that look, what’s going through that head of yours?” Maharet asked.

Bael sat down on the floor and grimaced. “Something feels off,” he said after checking to make sure Six wasn’t in earshot, “My gut is telling me that Lucy isn’t to be trusted and I’m hearing rumblings that Gabriel is running drills. I don’t think this thing is over yet.”

“So, how can I help?” the flame demon asked as she sat down next to her husband, “We’re in this together, now and forever.”

“Just keep an eye on Lucy while I’m gone. She made a promise, but if it suits her purpose she’ll break it and deal with the consequences.” A pained expression crossed Bael’s face. “I want to believe that I can trust her, but I get the feeling she is just waiting for the right moment to betray us.”

Maharet had very negative feelings towards Lucy after getting roped into falling from heaven. She didn’t need much convincing to believe that the Devil couldn’t be trusted. “I’ll keep an eye out for trouble and let you know through the link if something bad happens.”

Bael took her warm hand in his and kissed it. “Thank you,” he said softly, “When I get back we’ll talk about the wedding and start planning the rest of our future together.”

Maharet kissed his hand in return and rested it on her belly, “I’m looking forward to it. Don’t worry, we’ll get through it together, whatever happens.”

The Baron smiled, but inside he was filled with a cold sense of dread. Bael could feel great wheels moving forward, like a clock slowly creeping towards midnight. Metatron and Lucy had been so confident in their scheme. He wondered if they had messed with some great heavenly mechanism to ensure it would succeed. The Devil certainly hadn’t been willing to fill him in on the details of her little plan.

Bael could feel in his bones that something bad was coming. Something that for all his strength and cunning, he didn’t know if he could stop. He was unsure if it was his own anxiety about the future, or a grim premonition, but he had to be ready either way.

“I’ve got to go take care of some things in my office,” Bael said as he stood up. There were certain preparations that needed to be made, and it was better for his family if they knew nothing about what he was planning.

Win or lose, live or die, he would protect them. That was his burden as a husband and a father. Bael just hoped that when the dust settled, they could forgive him.