Chapter 72: A Minor Miracle
Chapter 72: A Minor Miracle
Bael looked upward as the sound of clapping broke the silence. Michael and Uriel slowly descended towards him, grinning like idiots.
“Well done, demon,” Michael said, “You've managed to defeat an Archangel.”
“Yeah! Fucking brilliant!” Uriel called out, “I didn't know you had it in you!”
The Baron rubbed his forehead. “I take it that I have you two to thank for Gabriel’s sneak attack. You wound him up like a toy soldier and sent him marching my way.”
Michael shrugged. “I can neither confirm, nor deny.”
“Too fucking bad it's two against one now,” Uriel said as he drew his sword, “But hey, we can't have demons going around killing angels.”
“And we are very secure in our faith,” Gabriel added.
“Really?” Bael asked with a look like a wolf that had spotted a lamb separated from the herd, “Well, then you won't mind me testing it. Because I've got a question for you. Do you think that I was able to stop Gabriel's blade because his faith broke? Or did I break his faith by stopping his blade?”
The two Archangels shared a look. Neither one made a move to attack. The Baron laughed. “Ah yes, and now you aren't so certain that this fight will go your way. Isn't doubt such an insidious little thing?”
“The might of God is absolute,” said Michael, trying to psych himself up, “No demon can stand against the Creator.”Bael quickly derailed his confidence. “On that we can agree. None can defeat God. He is absolute, untouchable, and all-powerful. But I'm not fighting God, I'm fighting you.”
He stopped to let that sink in. “I'm not laying siege to the pearly gates, or corrupting those who have taken sanctuary in a church. You came to me, while I was on vacation with my daughter. Do you really think God wants this? Is this his work?”
Michael went to speak but Bael cut him off. “No, don't lie. Don't make me cut you down. I have defeated Gabriel, Metatron, and even the Devil herself. What chance do you think you have?”
He was seething now, golden tendrils of metal weaving their way across his body. “I was made for war. I fought my way up from the frontlines and the pits. My skin is covered with scars from the journey. And I stand before you now asking one final question: Do you think that your faith is stronger than my desire to return home to my family? Because I will break you, just like I broke Gabriel, if that's what it takes to see them again.”
Silence hung in the air for a few seconds before Uriel turned towards Michael. “I don't know about you, but there's no fucking way I'm messing with this guy. I'm out.”
Michael watched him go and limbered up his wings. “I guess this means you get to live another day, demon. I suppose we will be seeing each other at work.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” Bael asked, pointing at the campground, “The people you prematurely raptured probably want to go home to their families too.”
“Ugh,” Michael groaned, “Fine, those that wish to return will be allowed to do so. Any other demands while you're trying my patience?”
Bael grinned. “As a matter of fact, yes. Just a minor miracle. I believe you have heard the story of the loaves and fishes?”
When Michael heard what Bael wanted, he was confused. But he did it anyway because the request seemed harmless. The Archangel had decided that Bael was someone he didn't want to mess with. Staying on his good side was probably a good idea, seeing as they would be working together.
Once he was gone, Bael let out a sigh of relief. “That was fucking close,” he said.
***
Six and Titan reappeared in the campground once Bael had given the all clear. No wayward angels had attacked their home, so they had spent the last hour playing board games. Unfortunately, Arson was a sore loser and had set the board on fire.
“I THINK IT'S A RULE,” Titan said as he padded over towards Bael.
“No. It's not,” Six insisted, “You can still collect rent and sell properly while in jail.”
“CONDUCTING BUSINESS WHILE INCARCERATED SEEMS PROBLEMATIC.”
“It’s called Monopoly,” Six pointed out as she went to rejoin her father, “So, what exactly did you get up to when I was gone?”
Bael handed her the fishing pole. “I had to deal with a work thing, but now we're good.”
The young girl looked around. The other campers were still missing, but not much seemed to have changed. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, they'll be back soon. But I thought you might want the lake to yourself for a bit.”
Titan did his best guard dog routine and searched for interlopers, but didn't find any. “IT SEEMS SAFE ENOUGH.”
“Come on,” Bael said, “I hear there are a lot of fish in this lake, big ones too.”
Six seemed like she wanted to say something, but gave up. It was a beautiful day and she loved fishing. The young witch threaded a worm onto her hook and cast it out.
“Now that we're waiting for something to bite, you can tell me what really happened,” Six said, fixing her complete attention on Bael as if she were trying to sweat the truth out of him.
He laughed. “You are tenacious, but not every story is for your ears. There was a problem, and I fixed it. That’s all you need to know.”
“Hmm… I can’t say I like you keeping secrets from me. But I’ll let it slide, for now.” Six’s frown turned to a smile as she saw her bobber dip below the water. The fishing rod practically bent in half as she set the hook and started reeling the fish in.
Bael was pleased at how things had worked out. Michael had performed a minor miracle before he left. Now there were twice as many trout in the lake. He summoned a net and helped his daughter land her catch.
“Woah, that’s a big one!” he said, “Definitely a keeper!”
Six beamed with pride. The fish was longer than her arm and almost too heavy for her to hold. “Yeah, definitely!”
The Baron looked down at his smiling daughter. He patted her on the shoulder affectionately. “We need at least three more if we count Potato and Titan. Do you think you can get us enough for everyone, miss expert fisherwoman?”
“Yeah,” Six nodded sagely, “I can probably manage that.”
Bael sat back and watched her work. It might have been the last day of summer, but it was still summer. And he was going to make the most of it.