Page 35 of The Morning Star
“Either he doesn’t have control over it, and I need to either hand it over or be killed for him to take it, or he is using that as a pretext to bring me in so he can use me as bait for his siblings.”
“Or it’s not really Samael, but some imposter.” She ran a finger over the words.
I waited for her to finish. “What do you think?”
“The wording sounds like him. And the energy signature…”
“Yeah?” I held my breath.
“The energy signature is exactly as I remembered.”
Fuck. “So it’s him? In your opinion as someone who knew Samael, who was close to him, this is authentic? Samael is awake and out for blood. And wings?”
Doriel nodded. “If I had received this note, I wouldn’t doubt it. What has he been doing for two-and-a-half-million years though? And why did he not contact us first?”
She meant why had he not contacted her first. “I don’t know. I’ve heard it suggested that perhaps he blamed the other Fallen for the failure to win the war and the banishment?”
The Ancient sucked in a harsh breath. “Perhaps. I hate to think of that, but it would explain his absence since the fall as well as his not contacting us.”
Ugh, that had to hurt. Still I appreciated that Doriel was honest enough to admit that might be the case.
“Whatever the reason, if you think this is Samael, then I’m going to believe it probably is.”
“Yes.” She handed the parchment back to me. “But I wouldn’t state without a doubt that this is from Samael—not without seeing him, or at least hearing from others I trust that he’s definitely alive. Two-and-a-half-million years, and then just this parchment? The circumstances and lack of other evidence of his existence cause me to harbor a shred of doubt.”
She was right. “Somebody knows this Ancient, whether it’s Samael or not. An Ancient doesn’t just show up out of the blue, one that nobody recognizes and knows, claims to be Samael, and starts gathering followers. Demons are a suspicious lot. Outside of Lows, none of them are going to follow someone claiming to be an all-powerful Ancient, the former Iblis, unless he has references.”
She pointed the beer bottle at me. “If it’s Samael, then he’ll have the leadership skills and the power to attract demons to his side without question. He had that charisma, that way about him…it was as if we were connected to him somehow. If Samael were to appear, the demons would not be suspicious. They would be like rats and children behind the Pied Piper.”
A horrible curdling sensation churned in my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the oatmeal I’d eaten earlier. Samael had the charisma, the leadership ability. Demons would flock to him, follow him, obey his commands, fear and respect him.
He was everything I wasn’t. And yes, that curdling sensation was jealousy.
“What if it’s not him?” I asked, really, really wanting this to be an imposter and not some ideal I could never ever live up to.
Doriel shrugged. “Minor doubts aside, I think it’s him. I just can’t see it being an imposter, but if so, then it’s a high-level Ancient who knew Samael and he is faking the energy signature in a very convincing manner to get the sword from you.”
“Then it’s Samael but he’s not the same. His power is degraded, and he’s weak,” I conjectured. “That’s why I still have the sword. That’s why nobody sensed him in Hel. He didn’t want to contact any of the Ancients and have them see how he’d weakened. It was easier to grab a few thousand mid-level demons and bluff his way back into being the Iblis.”
The air crackled with her power. The beer bottle in her hand warped and melted into a blob of brown glass. “Samael wasn’t like that. No matter what happened, he’d always be the Iblis. He was our bright light, our morning star. You could feel the sharp bite of his energy from a distance, but more than that there was just an aura around him. His presence…it wasn’t something you’d ever forget. He wouldn’t weaken. He wouldn’t need to hide. If he’s abandoned us, it’s because we’re not worthy of him.”
I held up my hands. “Okay, then. He’s alive, and this note is from him. He’s ignored all the other Ancients, gathered an army of demons, and plans revenge.”
Was Samael humiliated because he blamed himself for the banishment and couldn’t face his former colleagues? Or was he angry at them because he thought the defeat was their fault? That they didn’t do enough?
“Why didn’t he join Remiel in going to Aaru?” I threw out there. “Or why not be the one to lead that initiative? I would have thought if he was going to make an appearance after all this time, it would have been then.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps he knew the devolution had reached the point where we could no longer live as beings of spirit. He didn’t want to return to Aaru, only to find he could no longer truly live there. You’ve got to admit, it’s kind of pitiful what Remiel and the others are doing, hanging around an empty world in decaying corporeal form.”
She was right—it was pitiful.
“There’s something else we need to think about. I still have the sword,” I told her. “If Samael is rising to take back power, why can’t he call it to him? He’s calling himself the Iblis in this message, but he hasn’t made any attempt to take Hel.”
She frowned. “That sword was a part of him. I can’t see him ever giving it up. It is possible that once he was cast out of Aaru, the sword abandoned him as the legends say. It’s also possible that he is the one who abandoned the sword when he Fell.”
“If it left him, and if it refuses to go back, then he’s pissed.”
“Which means he’s going to kill you to get it back. You can’t continue to live because it clearly chose you over him.”
