"The grace of God will not be imposed upon they who wish it not," Friar Ignatius assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Yet be assured, even now God will forgive you, and save you from the fires of Hell."
"Save me? Fool!" Suettay spat. "I have been a queen of witches, and I shall be a queen in Hell, too! Kill me if you will, for my soul will not writhe in torment, but quiver in delight at the cruelties it imposes on those spirits too weak to do great evil!"
"Never believe such a lie!" Friar Ignatius' face turned severe.
"All human souls that go to Hell, go to eternal torment! Satan takes delight in torturing those he seduces to his realm-delight, though no joy, which he cannot feel!"
"'Tis you who lie, pawn of Heaven I" she spat. "Do not seek to dissuade me - I shall remain true to my master!"
"Turn away from him, I implore you!" Friar Ignatius reached out.
"Repent while you can!" He touched her arm. She screamed in rage and pain - he was so pure that his mere touch sent her into agony. Seeing this, he yanked his hand away, but Suettay shouted a verse and, with a titanic heave, shook off the knights. They fell back, but they caught themselves against the wall and scrambled to their feet, drawing their swords.
But Suettay was growing, swelling, her form stretching upward, higher, even as we watched.
The blonde knight shouted and leapt in, sword thrusting - straight in under Suettay's breastbone, stabbing upward.
The witch screamed, twisting. Then the point must have burst the reins to her heart, for her eyes dulled, and her body deflated, shrinking back to its normal size, sagging down over the blade - but the scream went on and on and on as the body sagged to the floor, too heavy for the queen of Merovence to hold up. That scream turned into a shriek of triumph, then faded away, crying, "Master! Master! I come to your reward!"
The chamber was quiet a moment.
Friar Ignatius shook his head, face very sad. "I have lost another soul, another of God's creations."
"It was not you who lost her, Friar, but herself," Frisson said quietly. "She was so far gone in false pride that she would not admit defeat, so saturated in evil that she would not reach out to God's grace. She had truly given up belief in goodness or in love, even as simple fellowship - so there was no one through whom she could reach out to God, and no one whom she would not wish to torment for her own twisted pleasure."
"And so dedicated to deceit that she would not see the lie Satan had foisted on her as blandishment." Friar Ignatius nodded heavily. Then, distant, faint, but very clear, a scream rang out, rang through all that reeking chamber, through each of our minds, making our hearts sink, for it was Suettay's voice in agony so intense that it shook me to the core - agony, but with the shock of betrayal. It was a scream that seemed to go on and on, and hadn't slackened a bit as it faded from our hearing - and, I suspected with dread, would go on for eternity.
it seemed still to ring through us for a very long time, but the room had actually been quiet for several minutes before I looked up at my guardian angel and said, in a last feeble attempt at protest,
"Eternity is a very long time."
He nodded sadly. "Yes, Paul. It is."
Chapter Thirty-Two
"Look," I said, "you didn't have to show up as a hippie. Who do you think you're kidding, anyway?"
I caressed Angelique's hand while I said it, though. She sat beside me in the courtyard-anything to get away from the stench of that laboratory - eyes glowing, head resting on my shoulder. She'd been in a great deal of pain when she "woke" - not the sharp pains she'd headed off, thank Heaven, but the of present torture, which were aches of old ones. it was enough to make me mad at Suettay all over again, and ...
"I shouldn't be glad she's suffering," I told the angel. "Suettay, I mean. But I am - after what she did to my Angelique." I was able to say "my" with only a passing qualm, somehow.
"You should be above such sentiments," the angel murmured.
"I know," I said, "but I can't help how I feel - and it's better to be honest about your feelings. Hey, man, I'm human, too!"
"Yeah, you are," the angel acknowledged. "But you're a good human." I frowned. "I said, you don't have to look and talk like a hippie. I know you for what you really are, man."
"Yeah, sure," the angel said, "but if I didn't look like this, you couldn't sit there and call me 'man.' " I took a deep breath. "Okay, so it sets me more at ease, and I can relate to you better. But there are times when it's more important to be looking up to an angel, than to be comfortable."
"True, true - and when those times come, I'll be glad to show up the way you expect, halo and wings and all. But for the moment, I think we need to be able to get down and clear a little more."
"The way I expect?" I looked at him sharply. "What's your true form?"
"I don't have one," he said right back. "I'm a spirit, remember?"
"Okay," I said impatiently, "how would you look to me if I were a spirit, too?"
"Like whatever you expected, man."
I bit down on my temper. Angelique reached over with her other hand, stroking mine. I know she meant it to be soothing, but it was anything but. it did serve as a nice distraction, though, and I couldn't remember to keep being angry.
The angel smiled, proudly-and that irked me all over again.
"Look, I'm not a good man! So don't go smirking line that. "No, you are," he contradicted. "At least, you're a I decent and humane man. For example, you wouldn't really want Suettay to suffer for eternity, would you?"
That gave me pause. I stopped to consider, consulting my inner feelings. "No," I said at last. "A good long time, yes - long enough for justice. But not forever."
Angelique stirred beside me, nestling a little more firmly against my arm.
"You'll have to stop distracting me," I told her, "or I won't be in any shape to talk to an angel."
She looked up to give me a heavy-lidded, pinfeather smile, then closed her eyes, looking very content.
"So what happens now?" I asked the angel. "What do I do?" He shrugged. "Whatever you want - and, I hope, whatever you really believe is right. I don't run your life, Paul."
"Saul," I grated.
"I only try to shield you from the Temper and sway you back to God."
"You've been doing pretty well so far," I admitted. "Anybody who can keep me on the straight and narrow . . ."
" '. . doesn't really have all that hard a job," he finished. "Ask your friend Matt."
"I'm asking you!"
"But there isn't any more need for me to stick around - at least, not so you can see me. So long - but remember, I'm with you for life!" And he disappeared.
"Cop-out," I snarled after him, then thought about the term. He was sort of a Heavenly cop ...
"Your friend gone?" Matt came clanking up. I should ask I looked up at him. "In a manner of speaking. He says YOU."
"Anything." Matt clapped me on the shoulder, looking straight into my eyes with a grin. "But there are some boys over there who have a question for you."
"Boys?" I looked around the courtyard, frowning. Queen Alisande's knights were cleaning up the castle, rounding up evil stragglers, with a dozen of Matt's junior sorcerers along to help. We head honchos could take the weight off our feet for a while.
Not a very long while, though. A hundred yards away stood a small army of heavy dragoons - at least five hundred. I winced at the thought, hoping there were more still alive - if "alive" was really the term for a magical construct. I certainly owed them. I went over to see what they wanted. "Good afternoon, Sergeant. What can I do for you? "
"More work for us, Guy?"