31.12

She is the only being in existence who has survived being unwritten. She is the only one who stood before Hasmed and survived. She is the only angel to exist without a role and now the only free being in a world built on function. Which means she has a choice no one else has ever had. Theoretically. She opens her eyes as Astaroth leans in close

“Roisin. Listen to me.” His voice is low, as if he doesn’t want those in the world above to hear him, but she knows be Steve’s expression that the angel’s voice can be heard by everyone in the room. “If you take the mantle of Famine now, you will not become Famine.” He places a hand on her shoulder and she is acutely aware that should he close that hand, he shoulder would be pulverised as effectively as if it had hit an industrial meat grinder. “You will become the Fifth again — another Fifth -- but on your own terms.”

Roisin swallows. “And if I don’t?”

Astaroth’s expression darkens. “Then Hasmed will consolidate his power and rebuild his view of the world over this one. The other angels want to end the world through the proper channels and release the souls within it. Remaking the world as it is will trap the souls on this plane to serve him forever.”

“And what do you want, Astaroth?” Steve stood straighter in the doorway, his arms folded like a bouncer at a club door confronting a group of young boys trying to blag their way inside. “What’s your stake in the game? You sound as if your all for the status quo, but it’s unlike you to be so altruistic. What are you hoping to gain out of this? How does Roisin becoming this Fifth wheel benefit your long-term plans?”

Astaroth laughs. “Mine? I could say that I wanted to cover the earth in fire and brimstone at this point and it would still be better than Hasmed’s alternative, because he will try to take the other mantles and there is no God to stop him.”

Roisin’s voice is barely a whisper. “But someone already has the mantle of Creation.”

“There’s a good reason they were divided among four riders. Five with Knowledge. Combining all five mantles with be more powerful than that the mantle of Creation. It was supposed to be a failsafe, so that five lower mantles could overcome the decisions of the sixth, but if the five were in the clutches of one individual, the whole of Creation can be overwritten to his vision.” He lowers his head and looks at them through his brows. If he was wearing sunglasses, he would be looking over the top of them right now. “And that would be bad.”

Roisin shares a look with Steve. He seems happy to defer to her decision, though what she really wants is some advice she can rely on. She might be an angel, but it’s all new to her and she hasn’t even had a lesson let alone a final test. “So it’s me or Hasmed?”

Astaroth shakes his head. “No. It’s you or oblivion, and the rest of the human world goes with you.”

The mantle pulses again and Roisin reaches out, her hand hovering over it. Namaan’s breath feels like the hot Sarahan wind over the back of her hand, but it carries the scent of carrion birds on the wing. He watches her with something like hope. Steve holds his breath. Paul grips the counter. The assistant mutters to herself, picking at a spot on her face which has become red and angry over the last hour or so. Astaroth waits, silent and certain, in the same manner as a professor waiting for what he perceives to be the correct answer to “Why did you paint it like this?”

Roisin’s fingers begin to tremble and she closes them into fists before anyone notices. “I don’t want to be what I was. As Famine I embodied despair. In hindsight I think it was a relief to be separated from the mantle when the Flood came. Not that I remember it, exactly, just the feeling of freedom from the mantle.”

Astaroth answers softly. “A mantle doesn’t have to be a burden. It should bring you a joy to your existence. I reason to be who you want to be. You can be something new.”

“What of the Creator? Will I have to fight him too? The new one, I mean. You said it would be a seraph?”

“Yes, but you can negotiate with a seraph. They’re reasonable beings. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Roisin shook her head. “I remember someone saying, ‘mostly harmless.’ 

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