The Sloth of Heaven Read online

  The Sloth of Heaven

  The Fallen Angels

  Book 2

  Steven Lindsay

  Cover Illustration Copyright © 2014 Riana Sellek

  Copyright © 2014 Steven Lindsay

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1494709392

  ISBN-13: 978-1494709396

  For Marina and Susan

  Who were my very first fans and

  who so impatiently waited for this story to unfold

  Thank you

  Part 1

  All Hell Unleashed

  Chapter 1

  The spiderweb of spells that was the Curse of Hell blazed with fury, stabbing light through the eternal darkness and twilight of Hell. Every Level was bathed in the harsh light, each Level reflecting a different colour. All throughout the massive crater the latent spells were finally revealed to the long-suffering inhabitants of Hell. They had always known of the spells, for they had been transformed by the enchantments, they had been held in torturous slavery by the undeniable power of the Curse.

  But they had never seen them before.

  They had seen snippets of the spells before when they had lashed out at them. They had seen a Level illuminated in such a way only recently, but never had the entirety of Hell been illuminated by all its vicious containment spells.

  And it was not just Hell who was having its illusions stripped bare.

  High above on the Seven Terraces of Purgatory the captive Angels cursed to torture souls into purity could lay down their implements for the first time since they were Cursed. They turned as one to look down over the Terrace edges and the walls of light to gaze desperately at the frantic spiderweb of magic. They watched hungrily as it spread through the Terraces. For they knew what it meant and they hoped with everything they were that the spells would be allowed to finish.

  They were not alone in their intense and hopeful longing for the spiderweb to reach the very peak of Lucifer’s Crater. For once they did the Curse of Hell would be broken, the very Gates of Hell would be thrown open to release its burden of tormented souls upon the Surface. They would finally be free.

  All eyes, Cursed and Demonic, Divine and mortal, living and dead, turned to watch the centre of the spiderweb. It coated the central spire, at its apex waited Lucifer’s Lair and over that was the only passage to the Surface, through which none could pass. It was merely there for the Arch Angels to spy on Lucifer. But it was this passage, and the Curse, that blocked the Gates of Hell from being opened.

  The spire was liberally coated in the magical spiderwebs, their strands growing thicker and brighter even as the edges of the webs were still growing their way across the Terraces of Purgatory and up the central stalagmite.

  All around Hell and its magical reflection above, Purgatory, all activity had stopped as all eyes and ears were turned towards the Lair of Lucifer. With all activity having ceased one would think that Hell and Purgatory would be silent, for once in their history. And indeed there were no screams of the tortured souls to fill the air, there were neither the sounds of cracking bones nor of weapons seeking blood. There were not even the noises of the Greater Demons tearing their Levels apart.

  But neither Hell nor Purgatory was in anyway quiet. They shook with the fury of the Beast’s roars, echoing around the colossal cavern that was both Hell and Purgatory. The Beast’s roars of fury and fear blanketed any other sound, but underneath it all was the whisper of a gentle, female voice. Some recognised it as the Angel who had freed them from their bonds, the rest simply responded to the compassion within those whispers. It was like a gentle caress or embrace to the soul. Very few understood what was said, they were merely responding to the feeling.

  Sigils flared all across the spiderweb, each line continuing to grow thicker. The outer edges had nearly reached the one exit of Hell, that small circle of light that had always been there. Cracks began to appear underneath some of the threads. As the threads thickened so too did the cracks. Parts of the cliffs that divided the Levels started to crumble, as did parts of the Terraces.

  The light changed, powerful green magic started to pour out of the Lair. Not just any magic, but part of the Lifestream itself. It had been denied to Hell and Purgatory for so long, Spirits had been denied their right to return to whence they came. Hell had been the plug that stopped the spirits returning to the Lifestream, but it was damaged, the Lifestream was pouring back up into Hell.

  The end was near. It had to be.

  Bright sunlight burst forth from various sigils sending pure white light spearing through the gloom of Hell for the first time ever. The cloud banks began to shrink, themselves caught within the ever-growing matrix of spells weaving their way across the Underworld realm. The spells wrapped themselves around the walls of Dis, crushing them and their ancient gates into ruins that would not heal.

  But the spiderweb was far from peaceful. As it spread through the waterways, it boiled them dry. Violent winds that had been settled were whipped up into a frenzy again, sucking up the sand dunes into biblical sandstorms. Large chunks of the cliffs and Terraces started to peel away as the spells grew stronger. Rivers burned dry, dunes were washed away, the meagre plants and ruins were burned into ash.

  All eyes remained focussed on the Lair, which was glowing a brilliant violet, up to the softly glowing Gate. The threads had finally reached it and were wrapping themselves around it like thousands of constrictors intent on squeezing the last vestiges of life from it.

  “Lucifer” everyone heard that whisper, a soft caress that eased their suffering before it turned to agony. But it was an agony that they all embraced with everything they were, for the Curse was over. It was ripped from them, claws and all as it struggled in vain to clamp down on its victims. It struggled even as its sigils were burned out of existence.

  There was a snap as the last of the spell was broken The Curse of Betrayal, which had tapped Hell, Purgatory, and Lucifer for millennia was no more.

  Far above in the lofty palaces and mansions of Heaven, it was a completely different world. Clouds gently danced along the white streets of marble and alabaster. They tore themselves into wispy shreds upon the delicate bridges, crafted by Divine hands that spanned the floating islands that made up the Citadel. It was the main settlement of Heaven, and since the Angels’ Rebellion, the only inhabited one. The Angels lived their lives surrounded by some of the world’s greatest splendours, most crafted before any of them were born, and yet they took it for granted. For it had always been there. They lived a life of perpetual bliss, their existence mostly peaceful since the War of Heaven had finished.

  The only deviation from that was the risk posed by the Goddesses Hera and Brigid, who had kidnapped the Arch Angel Sariel for their own nefarious means. The once peaceful streets of Heaven were now densely populated by soldiers transferring to and from the Surface. They were returning with vital intelligence and wounded comrades.

  The Surface was no longer theirs. Brigid had cast a prohibiting spell over the British Isles, and her other territories had become extremely dangerous. But it was the heart of her holdings that the Angels most wanted to investigate. However, they had severely underestimated her powers, for not a single Angel could enter the British Isles. Whether by flight, teleportation or even the mortal means of transport not a single one could get in. Not even the Arch Angels could slip or force their way in.

  To add to their troubles, their stomping ground of Christian fanatics in the United States of America had suddenly become a battleground. The Demon races that had been hiding for centuries had jumped out of the shadows and were now preying on the Angels across America. They had burned churches, mosques and synagogues to the ground and incited Humans to do the same. Racial distrust of M
uslims had been fanned to barely restrained hatred. While the Demons slid in and out of the shadows, the poor Humans were left to pick up the shattered pieces and deal with the wrath of both sides.

  Thankfully Hera had been banished to Hell in her battle with Samael. Without the Goddess to stir them up and empower them they would return to their hiding. And once the world was settled again the Purges could begin. They would hunt every single one of them down until all the Demon Races were completely eradicated. The most troubling aspect was that there appeared to be new races.

  Life was far more complicated than it should be. They had no idea that it was about to get far worse.

  In the Governing Palace Gabriel was busy reviewing the state of the Surface with the other Arch Angels, as well as the Council of Elder Angels. The Ascended and Lesser were not invited except to present intelligence on the Surface. But then only the Elder had been born Angels.

  Halfway through her sentence Gabriel stilled, her face creased in concern. Something was wrong but she couldn’t pinpoint it. That was the problem with having so many spells under her command, it was difficult to locate the disturbance.

  “Gabriel?” her husband asked her before he too fell silent, his face creased with the same worry reflected on her face. The others simply watched them warily, Gabriel was not one to trifle with and Michael was not easily concerned.

  The Angels couldn’t feel what the both of them could, but soon enough they would. Soon all the Angels would feel what they both did. The only reason they felt it so soon was that they had created the spell, they had cast Lucifer out, her own brother and his one-time friend. They had tied the Curse to him so securely that nothing in nearly two thousand years had done anything to be detected. But now something big was happening.

  Then suddenly both their hands blazed with their magic, blue and pink Angel sigils flaring all over their wrists. Their faces grew fearful as they backed away.

  “What is the meaning of this? What is going on?”

  Suddenly Ariel gasped as she felt what the others were yet to feel. She had not created the Curse but she had added to it over the centuries, both she and Gabriel had regularly created experiments that were later cast into Hell. Ariel had long ago proved her utter loyalty to their powerful bloodline, though she remained unaware of where that lineage lay. She could feel the Curse being stripped from their creations.

  Then the remaining Archs realised what was going on when their own hands and wrists began to flare.

  “No, it cannot be” one of them whispered. The Elder were still staring in confusion. They were horrified when Michael and Gabriel fell to their knees as their backs arched. Pure white light streamed out of their eyes and mouths. Their wings twitched in their magically induced torture. But it was the not the agony of the broken Curse that pained them the most, it was the realisation that it had been broken.

  Soon enough the Elder understood what was going on, their eyes widened in horror as their own magic turned against them. It always happened when a containment spell was broken, the longer it had stood and the more powerful the containment, the stronger the backlash. This was by no means an ordinary containment spell. This one had contained arguably the most powerful Arch Angel, with the exception of his sister, as well as two-thirds of the total Angel population to survive the War of Heaven. They had sealed away other Arch Angels, Gods, and even Monstrous creations. They had contained all the spirits deemed unworthy of reaching Heaven, the billions of spirits that should have returned to the Lifestream but had long been denied. They had sought to strip the Mother Goddesses of their greatest asset. Then there were all the spirits of the Demon Races forever condemned to be trapped.

  But the spell had contained not only the dead but the dead awakened and the living also. Spirits forced back into magical flesh in order to be tormented again and again. Spells that had transformed one time Arch Angels and Gods into Greater Demons. A spell that had created two Underworld realms, the largest to have ever existed. A spell of incredible strength, subtly and seeming supremacy to contain the greatest threats against the New Order, the Age of Angels.

  An omnipotent spell that was believed destined to last forever because it could only be broken by another Arch Angel of blood relation to Gabriel or Michael.

  Soon the sounds of agonised yells and screams filtered into the Governing Chamber as the Ascended Angels became afflicted by the backlash of Hell’s collapse. Many of them had been very influential in the strengthening of Hell. But they were weak creatures who could not withstand the agony that the Elder were bearing in silence. But then the Elder were the get of the Gods, they knew how to endure pain.

  It was then that Gabriel realised what had happened. The pain had clouded her judgement and memory. Sariel was in Hell. It had been a concern but not one they had ever really considered. They had grieved for her loss because Hell was a death sentence for the innocent. Michael had been distraught at the loss of his sister, wounded honour over a promise to his Hell-spawned mother. She didn’t quite understand, but Michael had a soldier’s peculiar sense of honour. The Elder had mentioned concerns about Sariel being in Hell, but there was nothing anyone could do for her. Not that any had believed for a second that she could actually survive Hell. She had been raised in the tranquillity of Heaven, devoid of magic or weapons training. She should have perished within an instant of meeting a Demon. Indeed, Hera had shown Michael images of her rape and murder.

  But somehow she had survived.

  She had survived the Nine Levels of Hell, each with its own unique dangers. She had somehow, and Gods knew how survived or eluded the Greater Demons that plagued all the Levels of Hell. Not only the Greater Demons made from Fallen Arch Angels, but also from Gods as well as her and Ariel’s experiments. She had against all odds survived the hordes that numbered in the millions of Lesser Demons. Even the spirits contained within eternal torment could have easily dispatched her, never mind the multitude of Demons free to roam Hell. How had she managed to get past each Level’s Guardian or through the Gates of Dis? How on Earth had she overpowered Lucifer?

  It was inconceivable.

  Slowly, pushing against the agony of the backlash she climbed to her feet. The others watched her stagger across the chamber, there was confusion cutting through their pain. What did they have to complain about anyway? She bore the greatest brunt of the backlash, it was her creation. She had been the first to cast it and then others had added their strength. Despite the crippling effect of the backlash, she managed to teeter and stumble her way out of the Palace. Only a few had managed to crawl after her. She was pleased to see that all the Arch Angels had managed. She fell against a statue of herself, calling up her magic. It was beyond agony. But despite it all, she didn’t scream.

  Pink magic flared across the Skybridge connecting the Governing Palace to the Citadel. She felt relief sweep through her as she saw Heaven’s defensive spells activated. They were no longer sitting targets. She slid down the statue, where she watched the swirling pink shields and waited.

  It was too late to do anything else.

  On the Surface, the story was the same. Being the most powerful Goddess on the Surface Brigid was the first to notice the disturbances to the Lifestream. Hera also felt it in her suspended state within the Lifestream, its effect was so great it cast her out. And any other being who had wrapped themselves within its protection.

  Every Angel on the Surface was soon afflicted by the backlash, it stripped away their camouflage and protections. In human cities and towns, the world over people turned to stare in horror and amazement at the winged men and women writhing in agony as light poured out of them. Many people stopped to watch them, but it didn’t take long for the illusions to be stripped from many of them. Humans saw to their horror glowing men and women with one, two or three pairs of wings being surrounded by other beings out of myth and legend. Angels were set upon by Minotaurs, Succubi, Incubi, Nymphs, Gorgons, Naga, Werewolves, Vampires, Jinn, Sirens and Fairies. In many cases,
the Angels were torn apart by the furious crowd.

  But there were only two places where the Angels were no longer feared, outside of Hera and Brigid’s territories the Angels were usually left alone by the Daemons, who chose instead to flee. But not always.

  In the Seelie Court, all turned to face the direction of Hell, feeling the extreme disturbance to the Lifestream. Even the new mages with little control of their powers felt the disturbance, their eyes following the Fae’s trying to see what they could.

  Every magical being on the Surface of Planet Earth had turned to face the direction of the Dead Sea. Not that many of them knew it. The location of the Gate of Hell was a secret reserved for the upper echelons of the Angels. Though the two Goddesses knew its location and some of the Demons had kept records of where Lucifer had crashed through the Surface. The magical folk knew what was happening, whether they awaited it with horror or anticipation.

  Humans did not.

  All over the world their sensors were going haywire, the on-going threat of earthquakes, tectonic movements, crust pressure and their subsequent results had driven Humanity to create ever more sophisticated technology to forewarn them against such natural disasters. Unfortunately, for Humanity, their technology for sensing natural disasters was about to become highly ineffective in a world once again under the sway of magic.

  As it was their sensors were going berserk. The world over, calls and emails were exchanged, the greatest flux to and from the Middle East. For to them, it appeared that a massive earthquake was about to hit the region. The plate tectonics were moving most uncharacteristically as was the weather above. It had changed dramatically in minutes with dense, dark clouds sweeping into the area raising concerns for flash flooding.

  But what concerned nearby Humans the most was that the surface of the Dead Sea had started to boil. The earth started to shake and considering their fear of a violent earthquake they were relieved that it was but gentle shakes. Loose sand and rocks fell but little more.