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“Raptured,” coughed Helena, though she was struggling to speak. “He’s taken their Light.”
“Bastard!” Azrael exclaimed, spitting on the floor in disgust. “Murdered his own people.”
“Don’t speak,” I said as I reached Helena. “I have to heal you.”
She shook her head. “No. You have to get to Heaven—you’ll need all the Light you can get.”
I lowered my head. “It doesn’t matter now. Micah is gone.”
“No,” I heard a small voice croak. “I’m still here.” It sounded like it was coming from the stairs.
Azrael joined me next to Helena, while Abaddon walked over to Micah’s voice. The cherub had been flung clean across the room and down the spiral staircase, knocked out by the shockwave that erupted from Medrion. He was bleeding from a split eyebrow and looked paler than usual, but otherwise he seemed ok.
“Tough little boy,” said Abaddon, who leaned over the stair railing and pulled Micah up by the back of his shirt.
“Not a boy,” Micah said, crossing his arms as he was placed back on the floor. Any feelings he had about the situation were quickly replaced by concern as he saw Helena’s injury.
I brought my Light into my palms and tried to lay them on Helena’s wound, but she pushed them away. “Please,” I begged. “Let me help you.”
She shook her head, tried to prop herself up but was too weak to do so. Azrael picked her head up and lay it in her lap so that Helena could look at me. “You are our last hope,” said Helena, staring into my eyes. “You cannot waste your Light on me, you will need it to defeat him.”
“I can’t just let you die,” I argued. “We’re too weak, there’s no getting me to Heaven, now. And even if we could, I can’t fight him.”
“You must take Abaddon—” She stopped to cough, a splatter of blood appearing on her lips, as she tried to take a breath to continue.
Abaddon walked toward us with Micah, and it was only then I noticed he was holding his left side. Blood. seeped through his fingers slowly. He walked around behind me, to where Helena could see him, before removing his hand from the wound. “As you can see, Helena, I am also unable to face Medrion.”
Helena held up a hand weakly to stop him, “I will use what remains of my Light to heal you both.”
Abaddon frowned. “You will die.”
Helena nodded. “Yes. You will need each other if you want to reach Lucifer. You have a bond; I felt it the moment I saw you two together in my grand hall for the first time.”
I shook my head. “Even if we got to him, we need an archangel to free him. Medrion said so.”
“Good thing there’s already one up there,” said Azrael, “And he’s going exactly where you need him to go… right now.”
“This…” I shook my head, then looked at Helena. “This is insane. I can’t let you do this.”
“It’s not your decision to make.” She looked across at Micah, “I ask much of you my friend,” she said simply.
“And I am ready to give it,” said Micah.
“No.” I could not bear what I was hearing, “You said yourself, sending one of us up would weaken you. You might die if you try to send Abaddon and me over.”
Micah sat down next to Helena and took one of her hands. “Like I said… I’m ready.”
Helena smiled at him, then at me. Blood pooled around her and dribbled from her lips; she had little time left. “We both are,” she said.
I shut my eyes, tears welling up inside them. “I can’t do this,” I said, “I can’t, knowing that you’ll both… don’t make me do this.”
“I am sorry, Sarakiel,” said Helena. “We don’t have another choice.” She turned her head up at Azrael. “Did our defenses hold?”
“Our forces took minor casualties,” said Azrael, “But once Medrion called out to his people…”
She nodded. “They are yours, now—as is this bastion. Take care of it.”
Azrael stroked Helena’s hair. The Warrior was tough, but I could see the wet glisten in her eyes. “For you,” she said, “Anything.”
