Dandelion

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

That quiet contemplation descended again. Haziel seemed to be the kind of guy who didn’t give quick answers.

But the silence spun out too long and Zeke finally broke. “Please, Haziel, there has to be a way I can go home. I don’t belong here.”

Haziel drooped, wings and all. His gaze swung over to pierce Zeke through, dark forest green in the shadow of the tent. “I have to take you with me, regardless of the difficulty. We must make for Zion and perhaps the Divine will grant your prayer to send you back to your home.”

Zeke nodded, hopeful that Haziel had a plan, what little of it there was. Details weren’t important, because Haziel knew this place and he was just passing through. Maybe. That perhaps was a little light on confidence.

“Understand, the path we must take is dangerous at its safest points,” Haziel said, the warning clear as daylight. Maybe he thought Zeke needed it, maybe it was a standard warning he gave to all the humans who landed in this f****d-up place. Zeke’s memory supplied the grotesque face of the dead husk he’d seen less than an hour ago. If Maba was the standard denizen of Abaddon, Zeke didn’t need this reminder. Besides, Zeke’s nerves were a bit stronger than that.

“So, how do we get to this Zion?” The name rang a bell in his mind, a half-remembered talk at his mom’s knee.

“We follow the Axis,” Haziel said. The confusion Zeke felt must have been apparent because the angel shifted in the dirt until he was sideways, half in the tent opening and half out. Creamy feathers lost their rainbow sheen in the shadow of the tent.

With a finger, Haziel traced a line through the air, directed at the distant sea of red dirt and nothing. “The Axis Mundi bisects Creation. In Abaddon, it connects Gehenna and Zion.”

So it was a road, sort of. Roads were dangerous in a war, though. Soldiers patrolled roads and destroyed them if necessary. In a place like this, anyone could see them coming for miles as well. There was no cover and no rest areas safe for them. “Who holds it?” Zeke decided to go with. He hoped it conveyed his doubts.

“No one holds the Axis.” A ghost of a smirk crossed Haziel’s ageless face. “The Axis has a will of its own and can act on its own against those who would usurp it. But we will not walk it directly. We will stay close to it, so we can avoid others.”

“Why? And how?” Zeke demanded.

“Humans are prized things for the kittim.” The angel shifted in place and his feathers puffed up like he was uncomfortable. “Inhabiting a human is a boost of power for them. Luminaries have other uses for humans, though not all of them are pleasant.” That was disturbingly vague, but Zeke hadn’t been harmed by Haziel yet. Besides, angels were supposed to be the good guys. “To your question of how, the Axis glows for luminaries. I can see it, no matter the distance from it. Does it not glow for you?”

It didn’t. The only thing out there besides the dirt was an old flagstone walkway. Almost like the kind that led up the front yard to his mom’s house. Those stones were still there, pale sandstone with dirt stains deep in the creases on the surface. Longing welled up. If he didn’t get out of this place, he’d never seen his mom or the tacky azaleas she loved to plant in the front beds again.

A yawn cracked right through the middle of his emotional shift. Probably for the best. Once Zeke got going, he turned into a wailing banshee of self-pity, according to his friend and coworker Jim. An accurate, if blunt, truth. He wanted to get moving though. Put as much distance as they could between this place where Haziel beat Maba, in case other things came looking for the angel.

“We should go now before something comes looking for the thing you killed.” Zeke even stumbled to his feet and had to stoop a bit to avoid the top of the lean-to.

“No.” Haziel reached out and grabbed his hand. It took a single, brief pull for Zeke to drop back onto his butt. His companion was either very strong, or Zeke was just that tired. “If I remember correctly, humans need a great amount of sleep. You will do so and we can be on our way after.”

Zeke wanted to argue, he did, but another massive yawn interrupted him before he started, his jaw cracking loud with the force of it. The look leveled at him from Haziel held a hint of I told you so. His new companion reached past him, into the darkest shadows of the tent and pulled a knapsack-like bag closer. Out of the mysterious bag, Haziel fished out two rolls of the same fabric that sheltered them. The first he laid in the back of the tent, as it was. It took a second, but Zeke figured out he was meant to use it as a pillow. The second, Haziel unraveled with a couple of subtle flicks until it was unfolded to its full size. This he handed over and Zeke wrapped it around his shoulders without protest. How did one argue with Haziel’s gentle, yet stern look?

A careful shove at his shoulder got Zeke to lie down. The pillow took a minute of fussing, but he found a comfortable way to use the fabric. As pillows went, it wasn’t the best he’d ever used, but it wasn’t the worst either, by far.

The last thing Zeke saw was Haziel shifting around in his seat until he filled up the entry, glittering wings blocking out most of the strange double light of the hellish Abaddon.