Worlds War One

xlvi [Treyvon]

When Trey was young, he'd had a knack for getting into trouble. He had never meant to, but every time he turned around, it seemed he was out too far on a tree branch or pell-mell down a steep hill with failed brakes on his bike or lost in a forest as dusk fell. Yet every time things had seemed like they couldn't get worse, he'd managed to make it out okay. The branch had held long enough for him to retrace his path back, or the hill had turned into a gentle incline, or his dad had shown up in the twilit woods. Dad would tell Trey—"You have an Angel watching over you, son." Dad had surely meant an imaginary divine being with a kind face and glowing halo. Real Angels were pompous and intimidating. Angry. Aloof.

"I believe Sandalphon told you the last time that you are not welcome back, young Golem," the Angel said.

The entity towered over Penina, massive wings unfurled and fanned out, blocking out the background. That was alright with Trey. He had had enough of this illogical landscape. Two suns. Purple skies. Blue grass. His grandfather had listened to bluegrass, and Trey wondered if this was from whence the idea had come. Everything he'd ever known seemed based on things he had previously thought impossible.

The truth is two twists from the telling.

The Angel was annoyed with them. The Angel's golden eyes appraised the trio who'd managed to move along the left side of Court on High by some mode of movement that made the world shift around their bodies instead of the other way around. Quest stood beside Penina as a sign of support. The Golem seemed braver with Quest at her side.

"I thought saving your Angelic bottoms from imminent extinction was sort of a good eeeenough reeeeason to ignore Sandalphon's banishment, Raziiiiel," Penina replied. "Beeeesides, I think it was the Wicked they were talking about and not meeee."

"Sandalphon was referring to your entire entourage," Raziel clarified.

"I was just the guide, Raz," Penina said.

"You will refer to me by my full name, little Golem," Raziel warned. "The only reason I did not smite you at first sight is because of your family name."

"I'm glad the Angels still reeeespect heritage," Penina said.

"I am disappointed you still disregard Angelic sovereignty," Raziel accused.

Trey stepped between the Angel and the Golem. Lieutenant Robinson had put him in charge of this team, so that meant defending anyone in his group from attack. Physical or verbal. What would his father say about standing up to an Angel? Was it blasphemy?

"Johnny Rotten is in Arcadia," Trey said, repeating what Penina had already told the Angel when they'd first appeared. "We're here to make sure no one gets hurt."

"Two Humans and a Golem here to save a whole host of Angels," Raziel repeated, restating it ironically instead of asking for clarification. Yep, the Angels were total jerks.

"We have special skills," Trey said. "And weapons tailored to defend against possession, as well as blades that can strike down the undead. Can you claim such resources?"

"We are Angels, soldier," Raziel replied. "We have been battling enemies since the advent of time. Mot is merely another enemy with delusions of conquest. We do not need the protection of Humans or any Golem. Besides, there is no way Mot infiltrated Arcadia without any Angels knowing about it. We would have detected him the moment he—"

"Oh," Quest interrupted.

Quest had noticed something going on behind Raziel, inside the Court on High. Penina's marbled eyes followed Quest's gaze. Trey also investigated the source of the interruption.

The Angel had an entirely Human expression bloom on his face. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

Quest nodded. "Johnny Rotten is standing in your Court on High. With a hundred zombies. Looking like he wants to tear it to the ground."

Raziel turned. Rotten stood on a small hillock overlooking hundreds of oblong benches arranged in a semicircle around him. An army of undead gathered at his flanks. Mot reminded Trey of a wizened cowboy from the old west, even wearing a black hat. He wore hides—snake, cow, angora, wool. His sneer suggested he was more disgusted with the situation than even the arrogant Angel.

"You have a plan," Raziel stated.

Trey looked across the Court and spotted Lieutenant Robinson with Ji and Saanvi, another Angel at their side. They had a plan, indeed.

"One that doesn't include you, Raziel," Trey said. "Rotten can possess other entities. My squad and I are protected. You are not. Mot can take over your body in an instant. I don't need an Angel as an enemy."

"Indeed," Raziel agreed. "One Angel could smite you in an instant."

"Hmph," Trey huffed. "Stay back."

"I will sound the alarm," Raziel declared. "The rest of the Angels will stand down and let you neutralize Mot. Do not fail. An army of possessed Angels would overwhelm your paltry forces within moments."

Then Raziel retreated, moving away rather than bringing the world to them. Trey couldn't help but think the act was a sign of surrender for an entity that expounded pervasive superiority. Across the Court, Lieutenant Robinson stood ready with Ji and Saanvi on each side. The Angel that had been among her group had also departed.

"I see you're waiting to strike," said Johnny Rotten, standing on the hillock higher than any of his minions. His voice was the hoary rasp of a lifelong smoker. "I know these rings are protecting you from becoming my children. I can sense the Seals of Solomon. But there is more than one way to become a part of my kingdom. When I tear you in two and send your soul to the Beyond, your body will rot. You will still belong to me."

Trey checked on Penina. The Golem wasn't a soldier, so this wasn't her mission. But if Rotten could attack Arcadia and the Angels, then no one was safe. He could strike anywhere and transform anyone. To defend the Wider World, Penina had to fight. He saw the stony resolve in her marbled eyes. Her hands turned to twin spikes.

They were all soldiers now.

"Raze the Court, my children," Rotten commanded. "The Angels will not stand idly by if these soldiers cannot protect their holy site. We will draw them out!"

The army of undead all erupted out from the center of the Court on High, fanning away from Rotten standing at the nucleus. Spreading through the courtyard, they overturned benches and smashed at the walls. Many of Mot's children were not Human—great hulking Golems made of mud and debris, anthropomorphic bulls and bears and rhinoceroses, Demons like Saanvi shed their glamour, flickering Ghosts who any one might have once been Autumn's sister. And other creatures that Trey didn't even recognize. Johnny Rotten's army was eclectic and overwhelming.

That didn't seem to intimidate Lieutenant Badia Robinson. As the children of Mot attacked, the lieutenant charged forth.