CHAPTER 1

Raphael hurried down the white stone path, passing marble columns that broke the view of the gardens to the left of him. He had to go see Azrael, something was bothering him and the elder Angel was one of the wisest Angels Raphael trusted. He turned sharply to the right and through the open doorways into the Death Offices. Despite the name, the Death Offices were one of the brightest buildings around, white marble carved into elegant shapes and columns, topped with a large stained glass dome. Corridors and small offices ran round the outside of the rectangular building, with a large open hall dominating the middle, filled with Angels continuously writing at desks. Raphael hurried along of the outer corridors, Angels stopping and bowing their head slightly as he passed. Turning into the Hourglass Hall, Raphael stopped for a moment to take in the view. It always caught his breath slightly when ever he came in through here, the huge dome above sprinkling various spots of colour all over the Angels working hard beneath it. No one spoke in the hall, but the air was filled with noise. Sounds of quills scratching on parchment, whispers of paper as it flew through the air, the faint tinkle of sand trickling through glass coming from the giant hourglasses at the very north point of the hall, standing guard either side of a substantial ball of deep purple energy that seemed to hover in the air between them. The energy seemed to flow in an orb like liquid, a spark of bright white flashing in and out of existence every now and then, heralding a new life being born. Raphael took a deep breath, taking in the smell of parchment and ink, and resumed his journey, heading towards the hourglasses. Two doors stood either side of them, one painted completely black, the other a pale gold. Passing by the black door, Raphael shuddered from the strange chill he always got going past that particular door, like a fingertip creeping up his spine, or a whisper brushing past his ear. His step increased slightly, going around the vast purple orb and its timekeeping sentries, heading through the golden door and into a short corridor of pale gold bricks. No visible light source could be seen, but the walls themselves seemed to shimmer with a low light, filling the space with an air of mystery. The door at the other end of corridor had a simple sign on it that pronounce it was Azrael’s personal working space. Gently knocking on the door, Raphael didn’t wait for a reply, but entered slowly, looking around for the Angel of Death.

“Ah, Raphael, do come in, and close the door, I will be with you in a moment,” Azrael was standing by the only other door out of the room, a black door similar to the one Raphael had passed earlier. Another figure dominated the room, the spine tingling chill coming over Raphael stronger than ever. Though short in statue, Death herself was a being to be feared, even by Archangels. Her long white hair seemed to flow around her like water, and her face was permanently painted into the creepy smile of a skull. Her large black wings were always on show, tucked behind her, contrasting with the whiteness of her outfit and skin. She never spoke out loud, but directly into your head, filling your entire being with a chill that would not shift for a day. Azrael nodded, as if in deep conversation and a frown furrowed the tall Angels face. Raphael subconsciously shuffled further away from the two figures and glanced round the room. The same shimmering blocks created the small office, a single desk pushed against the back wall, surprisingly clear of any paper work. Raphael knew this room was just a front, and Azrael’s true office lay beyond, closed off by a simple spell to prevent all but the highest level ranking workers from entering. A soft click of a shutting door bought Raphael’s attention back to Azrael, Death having disappeared back into her private rooms, where not even Azrael was allowed. Azrael sighed and rubbed his eyelids.

“Something, unnatural, is happening down on the surface it seems. Though not a major increase in deaths is being reported, there has been an increase in more, shall we say, supernatural, deaths,” Raphael raised his eyebrows in a silent question, but Azrael just shrugged.

“I don’t know, Death doesn’t seem to know either. The Sentry Angels don’t seem to be reporting any increase in Demon activity, but the figures just don’t add up,” Azrael paused and rubbed his nose, “Well, that’s if I knew all the figures. I requested the paperwork from Michael a while ago, but you know what he’s like, more time thinking about ways to improve his weaponry and less about paperwork. Maybe I should get Gabriel to ask him, that boy always manages to drag information out of that stubborn red head,” Azrael turned to the back wall and tapped on a brick, muttering something under his breath. The wall seemed to shimmer for a moment, then disappeared completely. Beyond was a vast room filled with tall shelves, so tall the tops of them disappeared into the darkness above. Azrael began to move down one corridor between the shelves and Raphael jolted round the desk to follow him.