Lydia touched down next to the now-convertible Beetle, glowering holes into Crow, who stood leaning on the door.

“What do you mean he took him? Why didn’t you stop him?”

He held up his hands. “He was too quick. I just sort of, blinked, and they were both gone.”

With an aggravated sigh, she glanced at Hannah, whose face was fraught. “Do you know where they took him?”

“Said something about a ritual. Not sure where it’s supposed to be, though.”

Slapping herself in the forehead, she growled. “How did somebody like you get put in charge of delivering the Antichrist?!”

With a sideways motion of the chin, he said, “I may have… exaggerated my part in a couple of atrocities.”

She licked her teeth. “And there’s nothing else that you know? Nothing at all?”

He shook his head.

“What about the Four Horsemen?” said Hannah, voice strained. “They’re always in stories about Armageddon.”

Looking up, Crow nodded. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I remember something about them.”

“Care to elaborate?” said Lydia, hands on her hips.

He shrugged. “There’s four of them?”

Jaw tightening, she made a constipated noise. “You’re approximately as useful as a concrete wetsuit, you imbecile!”

He screwed up his nose in a mocking manner. “Yeah, alright then. How’d you get away from Malacoda, anyway?”

She sneered. “I incinerated him.” Taking in the wide eyes peering over his glasses, she smirked. “From the inside out.” She thought about telling them what he’d said, but the words wouldn’t move from her throat.

Hannah narrowed her eyes.

He swallowed. “I see. And the other three?”

“I compacted two of them, and the other choked on his own blood.”

“Compacted?”

“I crushed their atoms until there was no space left.”

Clapping, Crow grinned. “If I may say so, Ms. Blackwell, you really would make a fine demon.”

“I’m told I’d make a fine lot of things.”

She felt Hannah’s gaze burning into her skull, and rounded to face her; her lip was curled, her nose flaring.

“We have to get him back,” she said.

“I know,” said Lydia, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

She shied away, eyeing her with suspicion.

“What’s wrong?”

“I must still be shaken up,” said Hannah.

Lydia reached out again, this time gripping and squeezing the younger girl’s arm. She glanced back at Crow. “You said it’s a ritual?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I can’t sense anything, though; never could. The Antichrist has some sort of protection.”

“Not from me.” She grinned, turning to face north down the wide road. “Any magus with half a brain cell could sense that array.”

“Right then,” said Crow, a pair of black, feathery wings sprouting from his back. “Lead the way.”

Cocking her head back, she said, “no. Take Hannah and meet the others.”

“You want to go on your own? Don’t get cocky because you beat Malacoda and his goons, this is a different kettle of fish. There’ll be demon lords there.”

“Then I’ll be sure to be quick.” She took to the air.

In a small voice, Hannah said, “why?”

Lydia gave her a soft expression. “I don’t want to leave you alone out here. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She flew away, giving them no time to respond.

***

“Okay,” said Azure, bringing the phone down from his ear, “I’m afraid I’ve a spot of bad news.”

He told them of Alex, the kidnapping, and Lydia’s pursuit. They were on a narrow street lined by estate agents and artisan bakeries, the chill night air silent and still. The only illumination was the fluorescent glow of streetlights.

Sam paled. Biting his lip, Jack put his hands on his head. “The demons took the—how is Armageddon actually supposed to work?”

Azure put a finger on his chin. “Let’s see, if I recall correctly… the boy names the hound, the hound leads him to the ritual, whereupon Satan is summoned to rule alongside his son and the Four Horsemen are unleashed upon the world.”

He gulped. “So the Four Horsemen are part of this too? Why has no-one mentioned that till now?”

“Well,” said Azure, “presumably the author forgot.”

“We must make haste,” said Sam, fingering his collar. “We cannot allow the ritual to be completed.”

Azure shot him a worried expression. “But we’ve not been able to detect the boy—Alex—since the beginning, and your friend went off on her own.”

“Then we can play a game of follow the Lydia once we’re all together,” said Jack, pursing his lips. “You’re not gonna like what I’ve got to say.”

With a pinched demeanor, Azure glared at him. “No.”

“You heard the Paladin, ‘we must make haste’.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“And we’d be going in the wrong direction!”

“Choo-chooin’s speed more than makes up for that!”

“I’m not getting on that infernal thing, and that’s final.”

Jack threw out his arms. “Do you want to stop Armageddon, or not?”

“It tried taking a chunk out of me!”

“He does that to everyone!”

“All the more reason not to let him on the street!”

“Gentlemen,” said Sam, placing a hand on both their shoulders, “this is no time for arguments. We need to move.”

“Agreed,” said Azure, a pair of snow-white wings popping from his back. “Come here, both of you.”

Approaching the angel, Jack scowled. “You had wings all this time?”

“Yes.”

“And you can carry both of us?”

“It may prove rather strenuous, but yes.”

“Then why haven’t we been flying since the beginning?!”

“No need to shout,” said Azure, gathering them in his arms. With a mighty flap, he took off, barrelling into the air and across the city.

Gazing down, it was like studying at a dark canvas with yellow lines and dots scribbled on it by a toddler.

After a few minutes, Sam pointed at the sky and said, “what’s that?”

“That is the moon,” said Azure.

Squinting, Jack focused on the little silhouette against the full moon; it appeared to be a person.

“Holy shit,” he said. “Azure, throw me.”

“You want me to what? Have you been divested of your sanity?”

“She’ll catch me.”

Slowing to a halt, Azure sighed. The beating of his wings sent blasts of wind shivering through Jack’s clothes. Azure hefted him by the back of his shirt.

“On your head…” With a mighty grunt, he sent Jack barrelling at the silhouette. “Be it!”

He had to suppress a scream.

The air ripped at his eyelids, but he didn’t have the luxury of screwing them shut. Tears streamed from them; it was a fight not to flail, what with his organs performing an internal Macarena as they bounced around in panic.

Rapidly approaching the figure, he could make it out better—Lydia flew horizontally, her arms outstretched.

He crashed into her, eliciting a yelp as they both went tumbling.

“What the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, hooking her arms beneath his armpits.

“Coming to help! You know where the ritual is, right?”

“That’s not a reasonable excuse to nearly kill us both!” They levelled out, following the line of the coast as wind rippled over them; his ripped jeans were poor protection for his dangling legs, which shivered.

“It’s an emergency, they’ve got the kid!”

“Fine. Hold on, I’ll cast it on you-”

He swallowed, ice gripping his blood. “No, please no. I’m begging you.”

She sneered. “So you’re expecting me to carry you?”

“Yes.”

“The entire way?”

“Yes.”

Sighing, she smirked. “You really are terrified of heights, aren’t you?”

“It’s more the falling. You ever had one of those dreams where it ends with you falling, then you wake up and still feel it? That happened for real.”

“What? How?”

“It was a thing with this weird dream realm, I don’t understand it very well.”

“A dream realm? How did you get there?”

“Some shitty magic.”

“What kind?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

She paused. “Okay.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks when a pair of thick legs wrapped around his, straightening them out with ease.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re more aerodynamic like this.” She leaned closer, her breath tickling his neck. “Unless it’s too uncomfortable for you.”

A drop of icy water trickled down his spine, sending a shudder running through him. “No, this is fine.”

Silence settled between them, and he ignored the emptiness in his stomach urging him not to look down: the frothing waves twinkled in the starlight, as though they were made of glass.

He scouted forwards. They were way beyond the city centre, coming closer to the estuary at Fleetwood. A lonely pier jutted from the coast in the distance; it seemed that was where they were heading, but he couldn’t see anything untoward.

The ground suddenly rushed up to meet them, and Lydia’s warmth unwrapped itself as she deposited him on the ground. They were in a field, surrounded by thickets of trees on three sides and a road on the other. It was silent but for whistling wind and the rustle of branches.

He saw no demons.

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Lydia floated just in front of him, staring at her feet.

“You’re sorry? You? What for?” he said.

“This is where you get off.”

He rubbernecked. “Nah, this can’t be it. I don’t see any demons, or any ritual.”

Shaking her head, she began her ascent, but his hand snapped out and grabbed hers. Something was pricking at his skin, standing his hair on end.

“What are you doing?”

She pulled. “Let me go.”

“No.”

Silence reigned again, but this one was much less comfortable. As he regarded her writhing features and refusal to make eye contact, her hands playing with each other in a shadow of the confidence he knew, a jagged spark of realisation hit him.

He wanted to think she was trying to protect him, but that would have come with a lot more condescension.

She fixed him with a pale imitation of Intimidation II. “I’ll-”

“What did the demon say to you?”

Looking away, she flexed her fingers.

“Lydia.”

“He told me the true purpose of Armageddon.”

“Which is?”

“It’s a beacon,” she said, meeting his eyes with shivering determination. “To summon God and kill him.”

He had to pick up his jaw. “And you believe that?”

“I didn’t even believe in God before tonight. But yes, I do.”

“And, what, you wanna go join up with them? Kill God?”

Her gaze left his, and she said nothing.

It felt like the ground was melting, and he was sinking in. “Are you insane?”

She favoured him with a shaky smile. “Perhaps. But I’ve gone through my life thinking that I know people, that I know where I’m going, yet all I can do is flounder alone in the dark. No light to guide me, or answer to explain why I have to. Why is it all so pointless?” Her face twisted bitterly. “Why is it so lonely?

“Even my sister, the only good thing in my life, could die at any moment from some unknown fucking magical cancer. God is real; he just doesn’t care. Why let such a malevolent creature live?”

An acidic taste invaded his mouth, and an ache spread from his chest; fire followed it. “Blah blah, you can’t blame all your problems on someone else, you idiot! Maybe God could have done this, or that, but then what?

“Then how can we say that anything we did was really us, if God’s just pulling the strings? Shitty things happen to everyone, and people die, but the only ones who can carry their feelings and wishes are those of us left behind! D’you think Jess would want you to do this?”

Her damp eyes quavered. “I thought you of all people would understand. Why create a universe that cares so little for its inhabitants?”

Staring at her, he clenched his free fist. “Because it makes us waver, and it makes us flounder. We’re all alone until our hand brushes against someone else’s, and then you have a choice: you either run away, or you grab on tight and don’t let go. Even if God or the universe don’t care, I do. And I’m not letting go.”

She smiled. “Then come with me.”

He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

Her smile dropped as she about-faced. “Then this is goodbye, Jack.”

Something punched him so hard he flew backwards, confident a sonic boom would soon follow. It hadn’t hurt, but he couldn’t help howling. Growing more distant by the instant, Lydia flew on their original path without a single peek back.

He grit his teeth, eyes overflowing. Despite all her posturing and arrogance, things had been better with her around. It never hurt to have a magus on your side, and even though he moaned and groaned at her presence, she’d brought something back to him he’d forgotten even existed.

Life had become fun.

He choked as he pitched backwards, finally landing; he skidded along the grass, dull burning erupting in several spots. Clunking into a tree, he gasped, his spine shocking the rest of his skeleton as his head impacted.

Everything went black.