that he was almost as powerful as she. But not quite.
“Go,” she said, waving him away. “Leave me alone. Go back into the darkness where you belong.”
Refusing her command, he began to move carefully around the large study. He touched the sill at the window and stared out at the rising city facing the shining dark blue sea. He returned to the sofa and ran his hand over the expertly carved arms. He turned to face her once more.
“Please.” One word. One he had not spoken before. Ever.
It caused Angelique to pause in the translation she had returned to and lift her head. He meant it. This was no trick. “You beg me?”
He was a mystery, this angel--old, full of pride, brimming with intelligence. And now he was contrite? Perhaps he had learned these things while living as a man. It was sure he did not know them when merely angelic spirit. If he had known how to apologize, he would have knelt before his god and begged forgiveness before ever being banished from God‘s presence. Therefore this ability was new; it was something he had learned since and it struck Angelique as the strangest thing about Nisroc. It was too human . None of The Fallen possessed conscience or empathy or remorse. It is what made them Angel and above man. Yet here was an angel who displayed human emotion. She could not decide if this was a horror or a blessing. She suspected it was the former.
“I beg you,” he replied, standing perfectly still before her. Behind his blazing eyes she could detect sincerity. And hope.
“You have changed,” she said at last. “You confuse me.”
She expected him to smile and when he didn’t, she felt a thrill of worry pass through her. What manner of thing was this? It was a new thing. What had occurred in the Outer Darkness where he had remained alone so much of eternity that he could bend his pride to ask her forgiveness?
“I only want a chance,” he said.
She nodded, examining him closely. “I think that could be true. Then I say this…” She paused, still considering her decision. “I say that when I find the right body, I’ll summon you forth. That’s the best I can do. I don’t know when it will be. I will have to have great need of you. But when the time is ripe, I’ll call you down.”
Nisroc, who had no need to blink, blinked. This too caught Angelique off-guard and the worry she had felt earlier encapsulated her brain like a snake furling into a striking pose.
“Thank you, Angelique. I can wait.” His wings folded, narrowing his form to one of a column of smoky blackness. Still he did not smile. There was no indication that he was making a fool of her.
When he vanished from the room, returning to the Outer Reaches and beyond her knowledge of him, Angelique sank back against the chair and stared into the empty room.
It was she who held the power over all The Fallen; she who allowed each of them to take a human form. They were forbidden unless she gave permission. Yet it seemed that just now it was Nisroc who had been in command.
Maybe she would keep him in limbo. Maybe she would continue to deny him. She did not like being confused and surprised. Surprise was a terrible thing and something that seldom happened to an angel.
“I am thinking of you, Nisroc,” she muttered as she took up the quill and bent over the scroll. “I am thinking hard. I don’t yet know your game.”
CHAPTER 10
IN THE NETHERWORLD
In that frigid dark void, the angel calling himself Nisroc settled his wings against the broad span of his back. He hovered motionless, nothing but the flicker of his pale gray eyes moving. He first stared into the great beyond before him. Then his eyes rolled left then right, taking in all of the nothingness that surrounded him. Who would not go mad being in this unholy place, alone, so terribly, irrevocably alone?
He was really neither male nor female, but decided after his fall to be recognized as male. His name was not Nisroc, this too
“Go,” she said, waving him away. “Leave me alone. Go back into the darkness where you belong.”
Refusing her command, he began to move carefully around the large study. He touched the sill at the window and stared out at the rising city facing the shining dark blue sea. He returned to the sofa and ran his hand over the expertly carved arms. He turned to face her once more.
“Please.” One word. One he had not spoken before. Ever.
It caused Angelique to pause in the translation she had returned to and lift her head. He meant it. This was no trick. “You beg me?”
He was a mystery, this angel--old, full of pride, brimming with intelligence. And now he was contrite? Perhaps he had learned these things while living as a man. It was sure he did not know them when merely angelic spirit. If he had known how to apologize, he would have knelt before his god and begged forgiveness before ever being banished from God‘s presence. Therefore this ability was new; it was something he had learned since and it struck Angelique as the strangest thing about Nisroc. It was too human . None of The Fallen possessed conscience or empathy or remorse. It is what made them Angel and above man. Yet here was an angel who displayed human emotion. She could not decide if this was a horror or a blessing. She suspected it was the former.
“I beg you,” he replied, standing perfectly still before her. Behind his blazing eyes she could detect sincerity. And hope.
“You have changed,” she said at last. “You confuse me.”
She expected him to smile and when he didn’t, she felt a thrill of worry pass through her. What manner of thing was this? It was a new thing. What had occurred in the Outer Darkness where he had remained alone so much of eternity that he could bend his pride to ask her forgiveness?
“I only want a chance,” he said.
She nodded, examining him closely. “I think that could be true. Then I say this…” She paused, still considering her decision. “I say that when I find the right body, I’ll summon you forth. That’s the best I can do. I don’t know when it will be. I will have to have great need of you. But when the time is ripe, I’ll call you down.”
Nisroc, who had no need to blink, blinked. This too caught Angelique off-guard and the worry she had felt earlier encapsulated her brain like a snake furling into a striking pose.
“Thank you, Angelique. I can wait.” His wings folded, narrowing his form to one of a column of smoky blackness. Still he did not smile. There was no indication that he was making a fool of her.
When he vanished from the room, returning to the Outer Reaches and beyond her knowledge of him, Angelique sank back against the chair and stared into the empty room.
It was she who held the power over all The Fallen; she who allowed each of them to take a human form. They were forbidden unless she gave permission. Yet it seemed that just now it was Nisroc who had been in command.
Maybe she would keep him in limbo. Maybe she would continue to deny him. She did not like being confused and surprised. Surprise was a terrible thing and something that seldom happened to an angel.
“I am thinking of you, Nisroc,” she muttered as she took up the quill and bent over the scroll. “I am thinking hard. I don’t yet know your game.”
CHAPTER 10
IN THE NETHERWORLD
In that frigid dark void, the angel calling himself Nisroc settled his wings against the broad span of his back. He hovered motionless, nothing but the flicker of his pale gray eyes moving. He first stared into the great beyond before him. Then his eyes rolled left then right, taking in all of the nothingness that surrounded him. Who would not go mad being in this unholy place, alone, so terribly, irrevocably alone?
He was really neither male nor female, but decided after his fall to be recognized as male. His name was not Nisroc, this too
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