In The Arms Of An Angel - Where Is He?

Here we go, and another Wednesday comes around. I put up the Christmas decorations yesterday and I'll sitting here with a hot water bottle on my back and the prospect of a day working in a hell hole before me. But, when I return, I will some glorious stories to read and the excitement of wondering if anyone has been kind enough to leave a comment on mine.

So this week I chose a picture prompt, although of course they're never prompts to me, I just find a way to fit them in afterwards :p

Darkness enfolded him. Deep darkness. The kind of darkness that breathes. Every now and again there were voices, snippets of conversation, bright pulses of light, pain, screams, the smell of burning, the touch silk, of flesh, of metal. But it always came back to the darkness. The thick, black, breathing darkness.

“Dammit Uzzi’el, will you please wake up.” Should he open his eyes? Part of him said he should and part of him didn’t have the energy to care. “Right. You asked for it.” There was a sudden brilliant flash of light that sent intense pain into his head and he screamed.

He became aware of someone, something close by. They were cursing and clucking, expletives spilling out in a torrent, accompanied by squawks and a clicking sound.

“Open your goddamn eyes, you lazy son of a bitch. I can’t believe you made me do that. You know I hate it when I have to do that. My feathers are singed. The least you could do is say thank you.”

“Fierro?”

“Who else, you stupid lump of stupid angel? Get your arse off that bed right now. You’ve a total disaster to stop.”

“What? What do you…?” Uzzi’el opened his eyes and looked around. He seemed to be in his own bed in his own room. He blinked again, his head still sore from the flash of light. “What was that?” he asked, rubbing his temple.

“I’m a phoenix, use your imagination,” Fierro snapped. “Now get up. Gabri’el’s about to make a monumental mistake.”

“Gabri’el? What do you mean?”

“Think about it. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just think.”

Uzzi’el thought. “I was in a meeting with Gabri’el. We were talking about… about….” He sat up suddenly, almost knocking Fierro off his perch on the bed post. Into a new flurry of cursing he asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

“Don’t mess with me, Fierro, this is too important. What happened? Where’s Gabri’el? Where’s Pasha?”

Fierro squawked. “I won’t mess with, you shall I? Leave  you now, shall I? Obviously you don’t want….”

“Don’t,” Uzzi’el said, firmly grasping Fierro’s beak and holding it closed. Fiero squawked and fluffed his feathers, sending tiny bolts of electricity flying everywhere. Uzzi’el ignored them. “I don’t want any of your nonsense, Fierro. I just want answers. Understand?” A series of clicks and squawks burst from the ball of feathers and electricity in his hands. “Understand?”

After a roll of the eyes and a single squawk, Uzzi’el let go of the bird who hopped out of reach and clicked his beak in a highly offended way. “Could have broken by beak. All I asked for was a simple thank you.”

“Fierro. Where. Is. Gabri’el? Where. Is. Pasha?”

“Gabri’el is about to lead your army into war. He’s persuaded the generals it would be a good idea to mount an all out attack on Micha’el.”

“What? Is he crazy? Does he know what he’s doing?”

“Seems to.”

“But… why… why hasn’t anyone run this by me?”

“Because Gabri’el has told everyone you’re ill. He told us you collapsed in the meeting and you’ve been unconscious ever since.”

“What? How long?”

“Two days.”

“Two days?! Dammit, I have to go. I have to stop him.” He slipped off the bed and staggered, almost falling. His hands flew to his head. “Goddamit, what did he do to me?”

Fierro looked uncomfortable. “What?” Uzzi’el asked. “What do you know?”

“Um… It’s not exactly what he’s doing to you.”

“What? Fierro, my head feels like someone’s unscrewed the top and vomited into it. I’m in no mood for games and riddles.”

“Okay, I’ll make this simple for you. No one is doing anything to you. They’re doing it to Pasha.”

“What? Doing what to him?”

Fierro fluffed his feathers. “How would I know? I’m able to see inside Micha’el’s camp now?”

“Micha’el? Micha’el has Pasha? But how? Gabri’el was guarding him. He….” Uzzi’el stopped, his eyes flying wide. A horrible thought was gnawing its way to the surface of his mind, spitting acid as it came. “Gabri’el. He betrayed me….betrayed Pasha. He never did post guards.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t post guards, I’m just saying they might not have been keeping somrthing out.”

“No, they were keeping Pasha in. But why? Has Gabri’el betrayed us all? Is he in league with Micha’el now?”

“Hell no.”

“But….he sold us out. He handed him Pasha.”

“Yes. Think. Why?”

“Because….” Uzzi’el thought deeply, working things out as he went. “Because he knew the generals wouldn’t follow him as long as I was here to lead them. When I…. When I got lost they wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t accept his authority but…but, with me here and… incapacitated….” He shook his head in disbelief. “And he knew he couldn’t do anything to me directly because the healers would be able to tell.”

“Dammit, the man’s a genius,” Fierro said, his voice filled with admiration. “I…I meant in a totally evil way, of course,” he added, shrinking back from Uzzi’el’s glare.

“Where is he?”

“In the main meeting room. They’re about to….”

“Like fuck they are.”

Everyone looked up when the doors of the meeting room flew open and crashed back against the walls. Uzzi’el strode along the side of the table, hearing mutters and sounds of astonishment from the men and women sitting around it. Some of them quickly snatched up one of the fine crystal glasses, filled with golden liquid, and took a long drink. When he reached Gabri’el, who was standing, he stopped.

“Uzzi’el?” Gabri’el said warmly. “I’m so glad to see you on your feet again. Are you feeling better?” He sounded so sincere and the hypocrisy sickened Uzzi’el. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he’d drawn back his hand and hit Gabri’el so hard he knocked him right off his feet.

“Where is he?” he said in a calm, even voice and the whole room held its breath.

Oh dear, what on earth are they doing to Pasha that makes Uzzy feel like someone is vomiting in his head? Maybe we'll find out next week.... or maybe not :)

Now go check out the other amazing writers who are kind enough to entertain you with their wonderful flashes

Cia Nordwell
Michael Mandrake
Tali Spencer
Julie Lynne Hayes