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Micah and Helena both turned to look at me suddenly, as if I had scared them both. I couldn’t blame them for being on edge, but something about this didn’t feel right. Where were Helena’s bodyguards? There were supposed to be four other angels here.
“Sarakiel,” Helena said, startled. “What is it?” she asked.
“Medrion has broken through,” I said. “He’s coming here. Now.”
“Now?” asked Micah, he practically shrieked.
“He must be right behind me,” I said, “We don’t have much time.”
“Sarakiel,” Helena said, “If Medrion is on his way here, then you must delay him. We’re not ready yet.”
Behind her, I noticed the floor around the beacon was almost entirely covered in chalk symbols and runes; an angelic scripture undoubtedly, but illegible from where I stood. Micah stood up, dusting the chalk off of his hands, a confused look upon his face.
“Helena, the ritual is ready,” he said, “You know this.”
Helena ignored him and kept her gaze locked on me. “I have given you an order, Sarakiel. I expect you to follow it.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “I’m supposed to be here so we can send me to Heaven before Medrion gets here. That was the plan, those were my orders.”
Helena’s tone lowered, “I will not repeat myself.”
Something happened, then.
The beacon pulsed once more, bathing Helena’s face in Light and revealing her look of absolute terror—I connected the dots.
I shook my head. “No,” I said, practically exhaled the word.
“No?” asked Helena.
“You can’t do this. Micah, you can’t.”
“Do what?” He asked, looking desperately between Helena and me for an answer.
Helena closed her eyes and lowered her head. “You don’t understand…”
“I do understand. I understandperfectly well. We didn’t need our Light, the beacon had enough to send me days ago, but you kept it to yourself. A little escape plan in case Medrion got through. You’re scared of him.”
“I am not scared!” She shouted suddenly, wild-eyed. Any grace I had seen in her before was long gone, she seemed ashuman as the rest of us; trying to survive in a world we were never made for and facing a fate that was never meant for us—death.
“You said it yourself,” she continued, her composure returning, “We need an archangel to release Lucifer.”
“Last time I checked, you’re not an archangel, and Medrion could have been lying.”
“I am not, but I am the closest in power to one of anyone here. If any of us has a chance at doing what needs to be done, it is me.”
I shook my head, disappointed, and hurt. “Helena, your people need you here. They are already frightened; they will break if they find out you have left them.”
“And they will break if Medrion kills me!” She glared at me, almost daring me to argue with her before turning back to Micah. “There’s no time for this. Micah, do what you need to do.”
“No!” He yelled. He had been quiet up until then, but he squared his boyish shoulders and stood firmly in Helena’s path.
“I am your superior…”
“I am a cherub, I have no superior—not anymore—and I won’t let you do this!”
“Are you even going to try to find Lucifer?” I asked, moving in behind her. “Or are you just going to hide in Heaven, alone, hoping Medrion won’t find you there once he’s killed the rest of us?”
“Lucifer will not help us,” she replied.
