Awake O Sleeper, excerpt

The Louisiana swamps were exactly as Galen had remembered.

Just outside of New Orleans, the cypresses rose high into the starry night, dark sentinels that watched over the borders of the swamps. The trees had pushed as much into the city as they could, their cloying branches draping over houses and their roots upturning pavement. Within the realm that the trees guarded, darkness overtook the Black Feathers. Hanging vines and the lecherous branches of willows grasped at their shoulders and packs, tangled their green fingers in their hair. The air was wet. Thick, almost palpable. Galen started to sweat under his suit despite the chill of the night air. The ground beneath his feet surrendered to every step, almost eager to soften and envelop him if he felt the desire to fall. Roots stuck up here and there, ready to assist in the self-destructive act of walking through the swamp in the dark.

The familiar sounds of dank evenings filled his ears. Insects and amphibians screamed for mates—tiny animals stalked through bushes and grass. The sounds mingled with the damp staleness of the air around him, summoning up a primal fear and awareness within Galen’s mind. The swamp was alive. They were not traveling through it so much as they were surrounded by it. And the swamp was hungry.

Galen knew that there were things out there to be afraid of other than demons and men.

Under the cover of the canopy, Galen could barely see the road in front of him. He knew why the Black Feathers had chosen to travel without light. It was the same reason that none of them had spoken above a whisper since leaving the cathedral-basilica hours earlier. Sage had eyes and ears everywhere. Even in the swamp.

Galen glanced behind him. His eyes had adjusted remarkably, even in the gloom, and he could make out the dim shapes of dozens of people behind him. He walked at the front of the group with Karasu’s man Edwall. Karasu herself had moved ahead with two scouts, making sure the path ahead was clear for the rest of the soldiers. When he glanced back at the group, Galen noticed most distinctly the two glowing pits of Icosiel’s eyes only a few steps behind him.

Icosiel hadn’t said a single word during this journey, and that bothered Galen. The demon had been very vocal in all of their previous encounters. When he was about to kill him on the salt flats of Utah, Icosiel seemed unable to stop himself from bragging. When he sacrificed himself in San Francisco to save the world and kill Uriel, Icosiel had explained to all of them in painful detail why he was the only one with the ability to do the deed. Galen wouldn’t say he knew Icosiel intimately, but he knew that the demon was talkative if nothing else.

Galen knew this sudden silence was significant, but this was not the place to address it. All focus needed to be on the attack on Sage’s home.

As if to emphasize his point, a root appeared in the path and snagged Galen’s boot. He went down into the mud hard. He held back a curse and placed his hands underneath himself to return to his feet.

He felt strong hand grab his left arm and drag him up. Standing again, Galen saw Edwall glowering at him through the gloom.

“Ain’t you supposed to know these swamps?” the man whispered.

“I do,” Galen said, and yanked his arm back. “Ain’t easy to navigate in the dark, though.”

“Karasu can do it fine.”

Galen frowned. He brushed himself off and kept marching forward.

Edwall came up behind him.

“Hey,” he said.

“What?” Galen kept walking.

“I just needed to say something at you.”

“I reckon you do.”

“Listen,” Edwall said, moving up beside him and speaking even lower. “Your story you told back at the Roost. I didn’t know you fucked boys.”

“I fuck everybody,” Galen said. “What’s it matter?”

“It don’t. Well, I mean it—I ain’t judging you for it, I mean.”

“I already been judged.”

Edwall spat. “What I mean to say is, I need to ask something of you. You and Aiko—“

“Me and who?” Galen asked.

Edwall grunted, shook his head. “You and Karasu knew each other from before. Before she came out here, made all this.” He gestured behind him. “Before she sparked this fire.”

“Aiko?” Galen said.

“That don’t matter. Forget all that. What I need to know from you—What I need is…”

“What?”

Edwall hesitated, and Galen could almost see him biting his lip through the darkness. Discomfort emanated from the man like a stench.

“What’s going on?” Galen asked.

“I need to know if you and she… You just said that you’d fuck anyone, so, I need to know if—“

Galen froze in his tracks. “Are you serious?”

Edwall stopped ahead of him. Looked back, his bright eyes penetrating and looking straight into Galen’s.

It was Galen’s turn to shake his head in disbelief. “Is that why you have beef with me? Is that why all this has been going on? You think me and Kary—“

“That ain’t her name.”

“I don’t believe this. Listen, you primitive son of a bitch. Forget that itch you’re feeling in your trousers. Right now. We’re marching up to the front door of the most evil motherfucker this side of the Mississippi, and you’re asking me this? I don’t care what you think or what you feel, but this ain’t important. You knock this shit off.”

Edwall growled. “You ain’t—“

“No,” Galen said. He stepped up into Edwall’s face. “No arguments. You get your ass in line and follow Kary’s plan. If we survive this, you can worry about getting your pecker wet later. But if we do this right now, if you want to stoke my coals and draw iron on me, then Sage wins. Do you understand?”

“You can’t—“

“Do you understand me?” Galen said, nearly shouting. The Black Feathers marching nearest them froze. Edwall looked around at them, his face a mask of rage and embarassment.

“No one talks to me that way,” Edwall said.

“Do you wanna do this?” Galen grabbed the nerest Black Feather—a tall man with a beard—and pulled him into their converation. “You wanna maybe tell your friends here what you’re risking the mission for?”

Edwall clenched his teeth, stared Galen in the eyes. But he remained silent.

“I didn’t think so,” Galen said. He released the Black Feather and stepped back from Edwall. “This ain’t the time, and you know it.”

Galen walked away and rejoined the march. He didn’t look back at Edwall. He shook his head, unable to understand that man. He wanted to lay with Karasu? That was the reason he was such an asshole? Galen couldn’t believe it. He had admonished the man for creating that conversation, but, truth be told, he would have relished drawing pistols in that moment. What an idiot.

Icosiel suddenly swept up beside Galen. “Is he alright?”

Galen looked up into the demon’s glowing eyes. “What?”

“Edwall Sprague,” Icosiel said, glancing backwards. “I overheard all of that and he seems hurt.”

“He stabbed you earlier, you know.”

Icosiel touched his chest gently. “I survived.”

“So will he,” Galen said. He looked forward into the darkness, knowing Karasu was out ahead of them scouting and clearing the road of demons. Thank God she had not heard that conversation.

“Matheson,” Icosiel said.

“What is it?”

Icosiel breathed in deep, and sighed. “I need to ask.”

“I know.”

“You know what about.”

“I know.” Galen swallowed. He felt shame in his chest as he prepared to say the next few word. “I don’t know where he is.”

“But you had him,” Icosiel said. “When last I saw you—when San Francisco was going up in flames. You had him.”

Galen continued to march. “Yeah, I did.”

“Did he survive?”

“Yes.”

“Then where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Icosiel moved like a blur, stopping Galen in his tracks. His eyes glowed brighter, and faint flames licked at his black teeth.

“I don’t know,” Galen repeated.

“That’s…” Icosiel trembled. “That’s unacceptable.”

“Who the hell are you to get angry at me about Joshua?” Galen could feel his blood starting to boil.

“You promised me you’d keep him safe.”

“What right have you to demand that of me? What right have you, after nearly killing him? After giving him to Asmodeus and causing this entire fucking mess? You reappear here, pretending like you’re our friend, looking for… looking for what, exactly? Forgiveness?”

“No. I don’t expect any such thing. But you have to—“

“So I’m responsible for him now? You break his legs, feed him to monsters, watch as an angel uses him like a goddamn puppet, and then have the audacity to tell me his well-being is my responisbility?”

Icosiel shook his head. “I was not in control. I was a different person.”

“A different person? Are you serious?” Galen shoved Icosiel. The demon didn’t budge, which only made Galen angrier. “You’re a goddamn monster. A fallen bastard son of Heaven. I know your kind well and you never change.”

“None of us do,” came Karasu’s voice.

Galen looked to his right. She emerged from the dense foliage onto the trail, her scouts with her.

“You forget that we were all left behind, Galen. We as well as him. Your god abandoned us all. Icosiel just happened to be abandoned first.”

Galen moved his lips wordlessly.

Karasu folded her arms across her chest. The rest of the Black Feathers had stopped marching and were gathering in a circle around her.

“The mansion is not far from here,” she said. “We have found a clear path.”

“Any patrols?” Edwall asked. He had come up beside Galen, but was staying well away from him.

“One,” Karasu said. “A demon sentry at the edge of the grounds. He will not be reporting us.” At that, one of her scouts chuckled.

“How far?” someone said.

“Just around this copse of trees ahead,” she gestured through the dark. “There is a road beyond. Follow it right and a stone wall will appear on one side. That is the property’s edge.”

“It’s also where we’ll be found out,” Galen said. “He’s got some sharp-eyed men watching over the gate. We won’t get far before they know we’re there.”

“Then it is also where we will make our stand. Edwall, you will lead the troop up to this wall and make your presence known. Use the wall as cover. Fight as viciously as you can. Utilize Icosiel. He will be your greatest ally. We will part ways just before the road—“

“Shut up,” Icosiel said.

Karasu looked up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Shh,” Icosiel said. His glowing eyes were unfocused, tilted upward. He was listening.

Then Galen heard it. A pitter-patter, like dead leaves brushing across a street. He realized that it was the beating of tiny wings. Thousands of wings. Millions. Moving through the trees above.

Icosiel turned his gaze to Karasu, eyes wide.

“To ground,” Karasu said in a shout-whisper.

In one fluid, surprisingly quiet motion, every Black Feather soldier dropped onto the wet earth and covered their heads with their hands. Galen and Icosiel followed quickly.

The fluttering above grew louder, closer. It turned into an insect-like hum, filling the air and drowning out all other sounds of the swamp as it passed above them.

“What is it?” Karasu whispered.

“Cacodemons,” Icosiel responded. “Minor fallen angels. Tiny beings of pure, solidified energy.”

“Angels?” Edwall said.

“Very minor,” Icosiel said. “Unthinking. Beings of trivial misfortune and unnoticed miracles. They’re harmless.”

“Then why are we hiding?” Karasu asked.

“Because they are only harmless alone,” Galen said. “One cacodemon will loose a button from a shirt. Two will pull a loose thread. Ten can make a scratch from a tree branch draw blood.”

“And ten-thousand can bring plague to an entire city,” Icosiel said.

“They belong to Sage?” Karasu asked.

“They do,” Galen said. “He uses them as a barrier. Bad luck repels most visitors.”

“Have they spotted us?”

“Yes,” Icosiel said.

At that, the humming broke into shrieking, like a dirge screeched out by a thousand carrion birds. The vague light of the stars was blotted out and Galen could feel the onrush of air from frantically beating wings.

“Tell everyone to stay down,” Icosiel said.

“Do not move!” Karasu shouted.

The Black Feathers remained prone, and Icosiel sprang to his feet. His arms burst into pale flames, and for an instant Galen caught sight of the cacodemons. They were amorphous, multi-limbed things. Writhing balls of meat and wings, with iridescent eyes and vertical mouths filled with shining teeth. Thousands of them, filling the canopy like leaves. Their non-uniform legs reached down as they plunged hungrily towards the soon-to-be-unfortunate mortals below.

Icosiel struck his arms upward, and brilliant fire blossomed from his hands. The flames enveloped the crying swarm and set fire to the canopy. The cacodemons shrieked in sudden pain as every single one of them was engulfed. Their bodies went up like matchsticks, bursting into flames and rapidly deforming into blackened husks. The thousands of cacodemons fell like ashen rain upon the humans below. Their shrieking stopped, and the Black Feathers hastily batted away the shriveled bodies and beat out the fires that had popped up on their coats.

Galen rolled onto his back, suddenly feeling heat on his face as he saw that the huge willow above shone with white-hot flames.

“They know we’re here,” he said.

Karasu crawled to her feet, swearing in her native tongue.

Icosiel looked about at the men and women gathering themselves, at the tiny charred and burning corpses about them. Everything was brightly illuminated.

“I had to,” the demon said.

“No time,” Galen said. He stood in the mud, and drew the two revolvers he’d collected from the Roost. The steel of the pair of Peacemakers gleamed black in the flickering light of the canopy fire. Normally Galen would’ve passed these guns up for having been in service in Sage’s New Orleans, thus meaning their cartridges were hand loaded by his enterprise. Normally Galen would never be caught dead using Sage’s bullets. But the thought of putting one of these slave-loaded rounds through Sage’s forhead felt both poetic and practical.

Icosiel’s face stiffened, and he looked off into the dark.

“They’re coming,” he said. “Two of them—scouts.”

Galen heard handguns and knives clearing leather, saw Karasu draw Kiyomeru from her scabbard. The Black Feathers immediately formed a defensive circle under the light of the burning canopy. Icosiel lit his hands into balls of fire. Edwall raised his shotgun to his shoulder. Everyone remained silent—the only sound was the firey crackle of bark and leaves above.

Sweat beaded across Galen’s forehead. He could feel his ears burning, could feel the weight of the heat above. He watched Icosiel. The demon’s supernatural senses allowed him to pierce the dark beyond the clearing, and Galen could see him staring at one very particular spot.

The first demon exploded from the underbrush. Its black skin flashed in the firelight, its body comprised of dozens of fang-covered tentacles and circular mouths filled with buzzsaw teeth. It had no eyes, no human-like torso. It was a mass of writhing bladed limbs and nothing more.

Karasu shouted—not a command, but simply a bestial warcry. She charged forward amidst a hail of gunfire from from her back. The demon twitched and spasmed as iron rounds tore apart its flesh, but it kept coming. It met her in a split -second, barbed tongues lashing out of its mouths. But the barrage of iron was slowing it. The demon stumbled, tentacles and teeth flying from its body like splintered wood. Karasu ducked and slashed upward. Kiyomeru tore through the bulbous flesh of the thing’s body, splitting it unevenly down the middle and spilling hot intestines across the wet ground amidst sparking orange blood.

Just as the first demon’s limbs stopped moving, the second one descended through the flaming canopy. This one’s shape was more defined, more purposeful. A precision tool, an assassin’s blade. It was humanoid with only three limbs, each apendage ending in a glistening sword. It fell upon them screeching. Galen looked up just as he heard its hideous voice and saw the red eyes burning with bloodlust and looking straight at him. He couldn’t move. His reflexes were too slow. For an instant, he knew that this was what his death looked like, and felt an intense self-hatred for how he had gone out. Then Icosiel was above him, plowing into the demon’s center mass and tackling it out of the air. It all happened so fast that Galen had barely registered the move until Icosiel was already on the ground, wrestling with the demon. Icosiel’s fists were ablaze as he drove them into the demon’s face. Its bladed legs stabbed into Icosiel’s flesh again and again, tearing him apart but not slowing his blows.

The Black Feathers moved in. A few of them held back seemingly out of fear of accidently shooting Icosiel, but the majority were not so cautious. They emptied their guns into the brawling demons. Glowing orange blood burst from the wounds of iron bullets, and Icosiel fell back shouting. In the chaos of the moment, the blade-limbed demon couldn’t right itself and writhed under the rain of burning metal.

Galen stumbled as Karasu rushed past him. She lifted her sword above her head and immediately the Black Feathers ceased firing—Kiyomeru descended and beheaded the bleeding demon.

A few Black Feathers whooped in triumph, the rest remained quiet. Karasu stood heaving, her shoulders shaking and Kiyomeru dripping with red blood. The distinction between the bright orange blood from iron wounds and the death-signalling dark red that the mystical sword disgorged from the bodies of demons had become very apparent to Galen. Kiyomeru did something strange to otherworldly creatures. It didn’t just kill them, it made them mortal in the instant before it dealt the killing blow.

Karasu was shivering, and Galen felt himself worrying that she was going to fly into an uncontrollable rage again. But he saw her shut her eyes, so her slow her breathing. She needed a moment, but she was managing herself. Again Galen was impressed with how much she had changed in the last few years.

“Fuck,” came Icosiel’s voice.

Galen looked through the crowd and found Icosiel lying in the mud. Orange oozed across his body. His skull was split with a long glowing fissure. His left hand was clearly broken. He was gritting his teeth and frantically tearing the iron slugs out of his flesh with his other hand. None of the Black Feathers moved to help him.

Galen stepped forward and looked down at Icosiel. The demon blinked through burning eyes, only noticing Galen after he’d been standing there a moment. Galen reached a hand down.

Icosiel paused as he was pulling a bullet our of his neck. He looked up at Galen almost in confusion. Then he flicked the bullet aside and placed both hands underneath himself to stand up. He got to his knees and noticed Galen’s hand still floating in front of him. He recognized the gesture for what it was and doused the flames of his own hand before grabbing Galen’s and climbing to his feet.

Icosiel scratched the last bullet out of his chest and flexed his broken hand. Galen could see the bones shifting under his black skin, reforming and realigning. He looked up and saw the demon meet his eyes. He recognized that same haunting stare from earlier in the evening—that look of loss and torment, a look that Galen could sympathize with.

Gunshots. A bullet whizzed by Galen’s head and struck a tree somewhere in the darkness beyond the firelight. He spun on his heels and ducked. The bullet had come from the west, from Sage’s forces. The Black Feathers had their weapons up again and took defensive positions behind trees and logs. Galen went back to the ground in a small muddy hollow, both pistols up.

“Dammit,” Edwall said off to Galen’s left. “They’ve figured us.”

“They’ll be coming down on us shortly.”

Karasu rolled into the mud beside him. “How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many men and demons, Galen? What is Sage throwing at us?”

“I ain’t sure. It’s been years since I’ve been out here, but from what I seen last night he’s upped his detail in my absence. I noticed a half dozen men on the grounds, not counting his house staff. Only four demons including his bodyguard, but he’s sure to have more than that. When I was a boy here, he—“ A bullet ripped into the earth nearby and Galen pulled his knees close. Their attackers weren’t aiming, they were simply firing into the woods. This meant that they couldn’t see in the dark—that they were human. He spat out dust and mud. “He’s probably got most of his demons out hunting for us in the city, Kary. I’d be willing to bet that most of his men here are just that.”

Karasu nodded. “Then we have chosen well our night to strike.”

“Fate rewards those who act,” Edwall said.

“That it does,” Galen said. He looked up then, and saw Icosiel standing above them. He hadn’t taken cover. Galen kicked him in the shin. “Get down,” he said.

Icosiel stared off into the night, no doubt piercing the mist and darkness and seeing the faces of those who accosted them. He remained standing still, until a bullet hit him in the chest. His coat tore, and that was all. No orange blood, no sparks. Icosiel touched the hole in his chest gently. It had already healed.

“They aren’t shooting iron,” the demon said. Then he looked at Karasu. “Tell your people to follow me.”

Bright flames plumed across Icosiel’s body, forcing Galen to shrink back. Icosiel’s body radiated like a bonfire, his black form masked by shimmering waves of heat. Then he lept forward like lightning.

Galen got to his knees and looked out over the brush. Icosiel was racing towards the opposing gunmen like a comet, the trees flickering with light and shadow as he passed.

“Charge!” Karasu shouted. The Black Feathers advanced, popping out of their hiding places and surging forward like a thunderous black river.

Galen jumped up to join them in their assault, to scream alongside them and fire his pistols into the blackness ahead. But Karasu grabbed his arm.

“Galen,” she said. “Not us.”

Galen glanced back. He had almost forgotten the plan. It was Icosiel’s duty to distract while he and Karasu snuck around the back. He looked at Edwall.

The big man was hesitating. He clearly wanted to charge Sage’s walls with his brothers and sisters, but his feet wouldn’t move. He stared down at Karasu.

“This is your time, Ed,” she said.

Edwall’s face twitched. His eyes looked into Karasu’s unblinking.

She reached up a hand and cupped his cheek. “We will succeed, and we will be reuinited. Go, Edwall. Take our vengeance upon these people.”

Edwall hesitated a moment more—he was reluctant, and Galen could see by the look in his eyes that he wanted to lean in and kiss her. But he didn’t. The man said nothing and then stormed off into the night.

Galen’s emotions whirled in a nauseating cocktail within him. Burning desire to rush into Sage’s mansion and kill every man he found. Disgust that Edwall was battling his own primitive lust at a time like this. Empathy for Karasu who he knew had just sent her people into the jaws of death. Anguish for having failed before any of this had begun.

The anguish was most overwhelming. Joshua wasn’t here. He was wasting his time, then, wasn’t he? Joshua was all that mattered to him. This wasn’t his fight.

He ground his teeth. Of course this was his fight. More than anyone else, he deserved to see Daniel Sage taken down. He turned toward Karasu. Two of her people stood with her. Eustace, the door guard from back at the church, and a middle-aged woman with a permanent frown named Connie. They all waited on him.

“Take us,” Karasu said. Her sword was drawn, and her single eye was filled with bloodlust.

Galen nodded. “This way.” He led them off to his left, through the thick trees and swamp and into the unguarded far perimeter of Daniel Sage’s estate.