"Thomas E. Sniegoski - Reckoning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sniegoski Thomas E)

you, little messenger?"

"You and the others of your kind are directconduits to God," Verchiel explained. "Extensionsof His holy
powerтАФreceptacles for His wisdomand knowledge."
Peliel crossed his arms across his broadchest, silently urging the angel to continue witha nod of his head.

"I require information concerning the deconstruction of God's Word ... and I shall have it nomatter the
cost," Verchiel proclaimed.

Peliel's ire was rankled by the presumption.How dare this angel think himself worthy to makedemands of
a Malakim?"Tread carefully, Verchiel,"the Malakim growled, "for it is within my mightto see you punished
for your conceit." Heunfurled his great wings of gunmetal gray, thevery air around him crackling with
restrainedsupernatural energies.

"I'm sorry to say there is little you can subjectme to, holy Malakim, that is any worse than what Ihave
already endured," Verchiel replied, a vicioussneer appearing upon his pale, burn-mottled features. "Give
me what I ask for and I shall leave youto your observation of this . . .fascinating continent." Malice
dripped from his disrespectful wordsas he chanced a casual glance over the Africanhorizon.

There is a dangerous hate in this one,theMalakim observed, and again wondered whatcould have
transpired while his attentions were focused elsewhere. He had no choice but to putthis imperious angel,
and those who followedhim, in their respective places. This recklessarrogance could not be allowed to
continueunchecked.

"Insolent pup!" Peliel bellowed, his voicerumbling across the mountain like the roar of anavalanche. He
reached up into the icy blue skyto draw from the heavens a weapon of cracklingenergy, a sword of
divine might. And heslammed his weapon down upon the mountain-top. The ground heaved and split
where it wasstruck, a fissure in Kilimanjaro's rocky fleshzigzagging haphazardly toward the Powersangels
as the ground beneath their feet shook.

"Rail all you like, keeper of His Word,"Verchiel said, taking flight, his powerful wingslifting him from the
tremulous earth. "It willchange nothing." And then he raised his handand brought it down in a silent
command tothose who served him.

The angels of the Powers host surged towardthe Malakim, screams of violence pouring fromtheir open
maws, weapons of flame materializing in their grasps.

Peliel responded in kind, his own weaponforged from the might of the storm, incineratingthe first of the
attacking heavenly warriors. Theywere no match for him, but still they came, oneafter another, unto their
deaths. As the last of them cried out in failure and the ashes of their bodies drifted across the frozen
mountaintop,Peliel turned to face their master.

Verchiel stood unmoving, his hands clasped behind his back. There was not the slightest hint of remorse
for the fate of those who obeyed his command.

"You knew that they hadn't a chance againstme," the Malakim seethed, the lightning sword humming and
flashing in his grip, eager to strikeagain.

The leader of the army so callously sent to their fates nodded in agreement.