Chapter 1

SARAKIEL

Medrion was there when I opened my eyes. He was staring at me, his gaze fixed and angry. Sucking a quick gulp of air in through my teeth, I scrambled away from him, my hands clambering over uneven ground that clattered and shuffled beneath me.

The air tasted like dirt; rancid, cold, and hard to inhale.

Medrion didn't move. I realized after a moment that he wasn't looking at me, but through me. Even in the dim light, I could tell his eyes were glazed over and glassy.

And his neck was entirely the wrong way around.

The sight of his twisted muscles made my stomach tighten and turn itself over. I found myself fighting the urge to gag, to throw up what little food was left inside of me. He was dead. I had watched Lucifer kill him and throw him.

Throw him… in here.

Into the Pit.

Dread filled me as my memories rushed back. My head spun, nausea filling me and making me feel even more lightheaded than I already was. The ground seemed to give way from under one of my hands and I wasn't quick enough to stop myself from sliding a few feet. That slide turned into a tumble, and that tumble quickly became an unstoppable roll that only ended when I hit a wall.

Debris fell on top of me, disturbed by my fall. I had to bat the landslide away from my face to keep it from burying me, from suffocating me. When the ground stopped churning, I opened my eyes and discovered that I had landed at the bottom of a tall mound of bones—I could just about see the tip of one of the dead archangel's wings, sticking out at the top of the pile.

We must have both landed on it when we were thrown in.

Around me were more bones; skulls that seemed to watch me from behind eye-less sockets, ribcages, hands, and even spinal cords surrounded me. Everything was coated in a thick layer of ash, some of which hung in the air, making it difficult for me to take even the slightest of breaths without coughing.

It would've been pitch dark down here, if not for the single spot of light way, way, way above me.

It was so incredibly faint.

Like a distant star.

Just bright enough to reveal the horror of my surroundings, but not bright enough to bring me any comfort. In fact, the light only made my dread surge again, because I recognized it.

It was him.

Lucifer.

That was his Light, and if he was still up there, then so was Abaddon.

Desperate I tried to get to my feet. The bones beneath me roiled as I stood up, feeling more like quicksand than solid ground. It didn't matter where I put my hands or feet, there were bones; some crushed and broken, some entirely whole.

I managed to stand, balanced precariously on top of the morbid pile, though my shoulders and wings felt sluggish—like I was being weighed down by something heavy and invisible. I opened my mouth to yell.

"Abaddon!" I roared.

There was no echo.

My voice didn't bounce along the walls of the Pit, instead it seemed to slap against them dully, muted and choked by the build-up of dust and grime. I tried again, this time screaming until there was no air left in my lungs. I called for Abaddon again, I called for help, I even called for Lucifer; but the Pit swallowed my voice, grabbing the sound and dragging it back down.

I wasn't about to give up and let this place take me. Angels had to be broken before they were thrown in here, crushed so they wouldn't have the strength to pick themselves up and claw their way back into Heaven. I was neither broken nor crushed, so if anyone was going to get out of here, it was going to be me.

Heaven was right there.

Abaddon was right there—and I had wings.

I shrugged my shoulders and unfurled them. Just that simple movement had kicked up a massive cloud of dirt that was difficult to see through. It was only going to get worse when I beat my wings, but there was no time to waste.

One hard push and I was up and off the ground, another and I was about two feet up. Three feet. Four feet. I had to fight for every single inch of height, not because I was weak, but because the Pit was trying to drag me back down.

It wanted to keep me down here, it didn't want me to leave, and it was going to do everything it could to ensure I didn't get where I wanted to go.

But there was Light up there.

There was hope.

Down in the Pit was only death, despair, and the corpse of the angel who had once tried to break me. I couldn't stay. I had to get back up into Heaven, and the only way to do that was through sheer force of will.

It felt like I was flying with leaden boots strapped to my ankles and an anvil on my shoulders. I had never fought against resistance like this before, and even though I didn't want to admit it, I was already getting tired. I couldn't see the bottom anymore; there was only a swirling cloud of ash and an infinite void.

Above me, though… up there was—no.

The light above me winked out, my distant star suddenly gone; vanished. I called for Abaddon again, screaming until my throat was raw, but the effort of yelling exhausted me, and the Pit's gravity seemed to increase.

I tried to grab hold of the walls around me, clawing at them with my fingers to try to keep myself from plummeting. I managed only to bloody my hands and scrape my fingernails before inevitably losing my grip and sinking back into the bottom of the Pit, slamming once more into the pile of bones.

Hacking, coughing, pain shooting through my shoulders, back, and wings, I tried to pick myself up. There was nothing to hold on to, and as I dug at the angel remains around me, looking for something solid to anchor myself with, it felt like the skeletons were trying to grab me back and pull me under and into their bony embrace.

I kicked and struggled with every fiber of my being, and out of desperation came a sudden flash of Light.

MyLight.

It was warm and bright. The Light fought some of the gloom away, fought the swirling ash away, fought even the bonesaway. I found myself on my hands and knees, but with sure ground underneath me.

And I could breathe.

My breaths came quick and short to begin with, but I managed to steady myself after a moment or so. I didn't know how much Light I had left in me, or if I would get it back after I used it, so I tried to relax and dim it down to a softly glowing ball that could fit in the palm of my hand.

I sat down, taking a moment to rest. I had to think. I had to figure out a way to get back up. The Light above was gone. Did that mean Lucifer was gone? Had Abaddon gone with him… or? I didn't want to think about the ‘or', so I busied myself looking up the walls of the Pit, shining my Light on them and inspecting every detail. I could see they weren't smooth but rocky, with jagged edges and outcroppings I thought I could grab hold of and climb.

But my fingers were already sore and scratched from earlier.

"There has to be a way up," I said to myself, the dank air around me swallowing my words.

There came, however, a reply—and hearing it rooted me to the spot.

"There is no way out," said Medrion. "If you think there is, you are a greater fool than I thought."

Panic swelled inside of me. I shone my Light in his direction, but I couldn't see him properly. I could only see the glint of his golden armor, and some of his wing. He was turned away from me, his body entirely still and unmoving.

And yet, there was his voice.

"You're dead," I dared venture, trying to sound resolute though my composure had cracked.

"Am I?" asked Medrion. "Who are you talking to, then?"

"No one. Myself. This place is playing tricks on me."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, you cannot deny the truth of my words. You are trapped here, Sarakiel. Trapped here with me for all eternity, just as I promised."

"No," I shook my head. "You aren't real, and I'm getting out of here. I'm not broken—I still have my Light."

"For how long? Surely you have felt it drain. What little reserves you had are dwindling by the second, every moment you keep that little ball glowing in your hand allows the crushing darkness around you to close in. Tell me. Tell me you can feel it."

The truth was, I could.

He was right.

I didn't have much Light left in me, and what little I did have wasn't coming back. On Earth, I was cut off from Heaven, but I could still regenerate my Light—as was my right as a Lightbringer. Down here, though… down here, where there is no Light… the story was different.

"Even in death you won't shut up," I said.

"I will not," said Medrion. "And we are both here, together forever, until the end of all things."

I heard a shuffling sound, like bones rattling. I thought I saw Medrion's wing twitch. It had to have been a trick of the dim light, though. He couldn't have moved; he was dead, andthere was no Light at the bottom of this mass angelic grave for him to heal himself with. And yet, in the dark, it seemed like he was starting to rise. I swore I saw his shoulder roll, the Light from my hand bouncing on his golden armor.

I shook my head again. "No, no, no," I said, getting onto my feet. "No, you can't get up. You're dead!"

"Watch me, Sarakiel," he said, "Watch me rise so that we may pick up where we left off. Just you and me. In here. Forever."

"No!" I screamed, and I shone my Light at him, intensifying the glow in the palm of my hand so that I could see him clearly.

He hadn't moved.

Medrion lay on his side, his back to me, his neck twisted and facing the ground. Had he actually spoken, it would've been through a mouthful of dirt and bits of bone. He wasn't talking to me, he wasn't going to talk to anyone ever again… but I had just expended another bit of my power.

It was this place.

This tomb I had been thrown into.

Who or what ever had just talked to me, whether it had been Medrion or something else, had been right. The Pit was going to drain me of my Light. It was only a matter of time. And when my Light was gone, what would be left of me?

Nothing.

Just bones and ash.