Archangel's Enigma
Page 30
Prostrating himself at the foot of the stairs, the angel sobbed. “I was seduced by her beauty, my Lady. I was weak and she took advantage.”
“You are a fool.” Lijuan was pure regal goddess in that moment. “But I will be merciful because Michaela has a way of bewitching men. You will be permitted to live.”
The angel began to blubber his thanks, but Andromeda, her gut twisting, knew he was speaking too soon. She’d seen the wooden frame that had been brought out of the shadows behind him. Two minutes later, the wild-eyed courtier was manacled to that frame in a spread-eagle position. He was still wearing his clothes, but they were slowly, methodically cut off him by the blond guard until he was totally naked.
Then the frame was turned horizontal by four guards, one on each corner, leaving the angel being punished facing the floor.
“Come,” Xi said to Andromeda as the guards began to move the frame out of the throne room. “My lady believes you may find this edifying.”
Bile burning her throat, Andromeda walked out with Lijuan’s favored general. The guards took the frame to the courtyard and placed it on four posts that seemed to have been erected in the center of the open space for exactly this purpose. The angel now faced the cobblestones, held up about a foot from it, his spread-eagled body exposed to the air and to the pitying gaze of others.
Walking over to the sobbing angel, one of Xi’s men began to slice him, the cuts relatively minor. Andromeda’s stomach stopped lurching as she took her first real breath since the angel had been brought into the throne room. If this was his punishment for such a deep betrayal, he’d gotten off with nothing more than a rap over the knuckles in immortal terms. She hoped he understood the depth of his luck.
Perhaps he was a favorite of Lijuan’s.
Then the guard with the blade backed off, and Andromeda heard the barking. “No,” she whispered, stepping instinctively toward the helpless angel.
Xi caught her wrist in an unbreakable grip without taking his eyes from the brutal scene about to play out. “Do not intervene or the hounds will tear you to shreds.”
Two seconds later, the first hound appeared. Drawn to the blood, the sleek black animal licked at the sobbing angel . . . and then it bit. The angel screamed. Andromeda closed her eyes but she couldn’t close her ears to the horrific sounds. She forced her eyes open a heartbeat later. She would escape this place and when she did, she would record this horror.
Of course, the vast majority of angelkind would find nothing wrong with the punishment. Being immortal wasn’t always a good thing. It meant the ones meting out the sentence had had centuries to think of suitable punishments . . . and that to fit the crime, sometimes that punishment was brutal. There was no point lashing an older angel when the wounds would heal within days.
Even Raphael, an archangel not known for cruelty, had once broken every bone in a treasonous vampire’s body. The unfortunate vampire, his body hanging together by stringy tendons and shattered bone that stabbed through his skin, had been left on display in Times Square for three hours.
To betray an archangel was to make a mistake that could never be undone.
The angel who’d made that mistake in Lijuan’s court was covered in bites within minutes, his skin streaming liquid red. He was also missing pieces. The frenzy continued until his screams of terror and pain eventually died down to whimpers, then to silence. That didn’t mean he was dead—Lijuan had given him her word that he’d live, and so he’d live.
Feathers flew into the air as the hounds began to rip at his wings for what appeared to be the fun of it, having already feasted on the flesh that had been their first target.
“How long?” she asked, her voice a rasp. “How long will his punishment last?”
“Until my goddess wills otherwise.” Xi finally released her wrist. “You know his crime deserved no less. Why are you shocked?”
Andromeda swallowed. “It has been centuries since I witnessed such a punishment.” Hundreds of years since she’d run from the terror-soaked home where she’d been born.
“Yes, you are a scholar,” Xi said, as if that explained everything. “Come.”
As they turned to reenter the citadel, Andromeda tried to temper her visceral response to what she’d seen, but she knew she was pale, her skin cold as frost. Not that Lijuan could be surprised by that. Fear, slick and choking, had been the archangel’s intention when she made sure Andromeda witnessed the punishment. A thin scream rose into the air at that instant, as if the angel had found a final dreg of strength.
Andromeda’s hands clenched. “He’ll go mad,” she said to Xi.
“An unavoidable side effect.” The general stopped without warning. His eyes were unblinking when they met hers. “Any one of the Cadre would have meted out a punishment as severe for such betrayal. Heng was a trusted member of the inner court.”
Thinking once again of the vampire in Times Square, Andromeda was forced to nod. And Raphael wasn’t the only other archangel who’d delivered pitiless justice. Astaad had once staked a duplicitous angel in a pit filled with poisonous beetles whose bite caused flesh to necrotize, and left him there for an entire month. As for Michaela, she’d ordered every part of an angel flayed off piece by piece, including his eyelids . . . and by the time the task was done, the angel had started regenerating enough that the cycle could continue.
A shiver crawled up Andromeda’s spine.
“I take your point,” she said to Xi through teeth that wanted to chatter. “Our world is a harsh one.”
“You are a fool.” Lijuan was pure regal goddess in that moment. “But I will be merciful because Michaela has a way of bewitching men. You will be permitted to live.”
The angel began to blubber his thanks, but Andromeda, her gut twisting, knew he was speaking too soon. She’d seen the wooden frame that had been brought out of the shadows behind him. Two minutes later, the wild-eyed courtier was manacled to that frame in a spread-eagle position. He was still wearing his clothes, but they were slowly, methodically cut off him by the blond guard until he was totally naked.
Then the frame was turned horizontal by four guards, one on each corner, leaving the angel being punished facing the floor.
“Come,” Xi said to Andromeda as the guards began to move the frame out of the throne room. “My lady believes you may find this edifying.”
Bile burning her throat, Andromeda walked out with Lijuan’s favored general. The guards took the frame to the courtyard and placed it on four posts that seemed to have been erected in the center of the open space for exactly this purpose. The angel now faced the cobblestones, held up about a foot from it, his spread-eagled body exposed to the air and to the pitying gaze of others.
Walking over to the sobbing angel, one of Xi’s men began to slice him, the cuts relatively minor. Andromeda’s stomach stopped lurching as she took her first real breath since the angel had been brought into the throne room. If this was his punishment for such a deep betrayal, he’d gotten off with nothing more than a rap over the knuckles in immortal terms. She hoped he understood the depth of his luck.
Perhaps he was a favorite of Lijuan’s.
Then the guard with the blade backed off, and Andromeda heard the barking. “No,” she whispered, stepping instinctively toward the helpless angel.
Xi caught her wrist in an unbreakable grip without taking his eyes from the brutal scene about to play out. “Do not intervene or the hounds will tear you to shreds.”
Two seconds later, the first hound appeared. Drawn to the blood, the sleek black animal licked at the sobbing angel . . . and then it bit. The angel screamed. Andromeda closed her eyes but she couldn’t close her ears to the horrific sounds. She forced her eyes open a heartbeat later. She would escape this place and when she did, she would record this horror.
Of course, the vast majority of angelkind would find nothing wrong with the punishment. Being immortal wasn’t always a good thing. It meant the ones meting out the sentence had had centuries to think of suitable punishments . . . and that to fit the crime, sometimes that punishment was brutal. There was no point lashing an older angel when the wounds would heal within days.
Even Raphael, an archangel not known for cruelty, had once broken every bone in a treasonous vampire’s body. The unfortunate vampire, his body hanging together by stringy tendons and shattered bone that stabbed through his skin, had been left on display in Times Square for three hours.
To betray an archangel was to make a mistake that could never be undone.
The angel who’d made that mistake in Lijuan’s court was covered in bites within minutes, his skin streaming liquid red. He was also missing pieces. The frenzy continued until his screams of terror and pain eventually died down to whimpers, then to silence. That didn’t mean he was dead—Lijuan had given him her word that he’d live, and so he’d live.
Feathers flew into the air as the hounds began to rip at his wings for what appeared to be the fun of it, having already feasted on the flesh that had been their first target.
“How long?” she asked, her voice a rasp. “How long will his punishment last?”
“Until my goddess wills otherwise.” Xi finally released her wrist. “You know his crime deserved no less. Why are you shocked?”
Andromeda swallowed. “It has been centuries since I witnessed such a punishment.” Hundreds of years since she’d run from the terror-soaked home where she’d been born.
“Yes, you are a scholar,” Xi said, as if that explained everything. “Come.”
As they turned to reenter the citadel, Andromeda tried to temper her visceral response to what she’d seen, but she knew she was pale, her skin cold as frost. Not that Lijuan could be surprised by that. Fear, slick and choking, had been the archangel’s intention when she made sure Andromeda witnessed the punishment. A thin scream rose into the air at that instant, as if the angel had found a final dreg of strength.
Andromeda’s hands clenched. “He’ll go mad,” she said to Xi.
“An unavoidable side effect.” The general stopped without warning. His eyes were unblinking when they met hers. “Any one of the Cadre would have meted out a punishment as severe for such betrayal. Heng was a trusted member of the inner court.”
Thinking once again of the vampire in Times Square, Andromeda was forced to nod. And Raphael wasn’t the only other archangel who’d delivered pitiless justice. Astaad had once staked a duplicitous angel in a pit filled with poisonous beetles whose bite caused flesh to necrotize, and left him there for an entire month. As for Michaela, she’d ordered every part of an angel flayed off piece by piece, including his eyelids . . . and by the time the task was done, the angel had started regenerating enough that the cycle could continue.
A shiver crawled up Andromeda’s spine.
“I take your point,” she said to Xi through teeth that wanted to chatter. “Our world is a harsh one.”
