Small Favor
"I know," I said. "But you must have something solid."
"A little," he said. "We are fairly certain that Tessa and Imariel are the second-eldest of the Denarians. Only Nicodemus and Anduriel have been operating longer."
I grunted. "Are Tessa and Nicodemus rivals?"
"Generally," Michael replied. "Though I suppose it bears mentioning that they’re also husband and wife."
"Match made in Hell, eh?"
"Not that it seems to mean much to either of them. They very rarely work together, and when they do it’s never good. The last time they did so, according to the Church’s records, was just before the Black Plague came to Europe."
"Plagues? The Nickelheads did that last time they were in town." I shook my head. "You’d expect a different tune or two in a husband-and-wife act that had been running that long."
"Variety is the key to a happy marriage," Michael agreed solemnly. His mouth quivered. "Nickelheads?"
"I decided their name gave them too much dignity, given what they are. I’m correcting that."
"Those who underestimate them generally don’t survive it," Michael said. "Be careful."
"You know me."
"Yes," he said. "Where were we?"
"Plagues."
"Ah, yes. The Nickelheads have used plagues to instigate the most havoc and confusion in the past."
I fought off a smile that threatened my hard-ass exterior as Michael continued.
"It’s proven a successful tactic on more than one occasion. Once a plague has gained momentum, there’s almost no limit to the lives they can claim and the suffering they can inflict."
I frowned and folded my arms. "Sanya said that Tessa preferred choosing eager…subjects, I suppose, over talented ones."
Michael nodded. "The Fallen who follow Imariel go through bearers very quickly. None of them are kind to those they bond with, but Imariel’s crew are the monsters among the monsters. Tessa chooses their hosts from among the downtrodden, the desperate, those who believe that they have nothing to lose. Those who will succumb to temptation the most rapidly."
I grunted. "Lot of those around in the wake of a big nasty plague. Or any kind of similar chaos."
"Yes. We believe that it is one reason she collaborates with Nicodemus from time to time."
"She’s focused on short-term," I said, getting it. "He’s all about the long view."
"Exactly," Michael said. "When he threw Lasciel’s coin at my son, it was a calculated gesture."
"Calculated to rope me in," I said.
"You," Michael said, "or my son."
A chill that had nothing to do with the air went through me. "Give the coin to a child?"
"A child who couldn’t defend himself. Who could be raised with the voice of a Fallen angel whispering in his ear. Shaping him. Preparing him to be used as a weapon against his own family. Imagine it."
I stared around the yard that had been the scene of so much merriment only a few hours before. "I’d rather not," I said.
Michael continued quietly. "In general, the families of the bearers of the Swords are sheltered against such evils. But things like that have happened before. And Nicodemus has borne a coin for a score of centuries. He has no difficulty with the notion of waiting ten or fifteen or twenty years to attain his goals."
"That’s why you think he’s here," I said. "Because going after someone like Marcone isn’t Tessa’s style."
"It isn’t," Michael said. "But I believe that if by helping it happen she could create the kind of environment she loves best, full of chaos and despair, it would be reason enough for her to join forces with her husband."
"How many?"
"Tessa keeps a group of five other Fallen around her." He gave me a quick smile. "Sorry. Four, now."
"Thank Thomas," I said. "Not me."
"I intend to," Michael said. "Nicodemus…" Michael shook his head. "I believe you’ve been told before that Nicodemus makes it a point to destroy any records the Church manages to build concerning him. That’s not going to be as easy to arrange in the future-"
"Hail the information age," I interjected.
"-but our accounts regarding him are sketchy. We thought he had only three regular companions-but then he produced Lasciel’s coin, which had supposedly been in secure storage in a Chilean monastery. I think it would be dangerous to assume anything at this point."
"Worst-case scenario," I said, "how many other coins might he have with him?"
Michael shrugged. "Six, perhaps? But it’s just a guess."
I stared at him. "You’re saying that they could have a dozen walking nightmares with them this time."
He nodded.
"Last time they came to party, all three Swords were here. There were four Denarians. And we barely came out of it alive."
"I know."
"But you’re used to this, right?" I asked him. "The Knights take on odds like this all the time."
He gave me an apologetic glance. "We like to outnumber them two to one if possible. Three to one when we can arrange it."
"But Shiro said he had fought several duels against them," I said. "One-on-one."
"Shiro had a gift," Michael said. "It was as simple as that. Shiro knew swordplay like Mozart knew music. I’m not like him. I’m not afraid of facing a single Denarian alone, but I would generally consider us evenly matched. My fate would be in God’s hands."
"Super," I sighed.
"Faith, Harry," Michael said. "He will not abandon us. There will be a way for good to overcome."
"Good overcame last time," I said quietly. "More or less. But that didn’t stop them from killing Shiro."
"Our lives belong to the Almighty," Michael said evenly. "We serve and live for the sake of others. Not for our own."
"Yeah," I said. "I’m sure that will comfort your kids when they have to grow up without a father."
Michael abruptly turned to face me squarely, and his right hand closed into a fist. "Stop talking," he said in a low, hard tone. "Right now."
So help me God, I almost took a swing at him out of sheer frustration. But sanity grabbed the scruff of my neck and turned me around. I stalked several paces away through the snow and stood with my back to him.
Sanity invited shame over for tea and biscuits. Dammit. I was supposed to be a wizard. Connected with my inner light, master of the disciplined mind, all of that kind of crap. But instead I was shooting my mouth off at a man who didn’t deserve it because…