Darkness closed around Sydney and her ears rang with the depletion of oxygen in her bloodstream. She stopped struggling, realizing that it was worse than useless; with each motion, she mired herself deeper into the gore. Only her hand remained out of the pool, raising the sword in a listless request for help.

She felt her soul being sucked from her body, and she sensed that she was dying.

And then a strong hand clasped hers, pulling her up from the muck. As her face burst free of the awful trap, she drew a deep, gasping gulp of air that was as much a cry as a breath. She wasn't a woman who wept easily, but tears now flowed from her eyes and huge sobs broke from her throat. She still couldn't see, but the same hand that freed her swept the rapier from her hand, and she heard a roar and the clink of metal blade to bone blade that told her that her rescuer had engaged the enemy.

Surprise registered in the murmurs that rippled through the angel legions, surprise that swiftly turned to cries of alarm.

Sydney struggled to unsteady feet and stumbled to the crystal stream, allowing her sense of smell to guide her. She dunked her head into the water, washing away the grime and muck and restoring her sight in the process.

She whirled when she heard the angels shout in dismay, turning just in time to see Van Loo backhand Nigel, who had been struggling valiantly to fight the Prince of Darkness. The little Englishman had taken a few fencing lessons from Sydney, mostly landing on his backside. He could never hope to prevail against this monster.

Time seemed to slow as Van Loo yanked the Angel Sword from Nigel's hand and raised the golden blade, poised to plunge it into her friend's heart. Sydney screamed and tore across the yards that separated them, but another, completely unexpected scream blended with hers.

The Angel Sword threw out flames that enveloped Van Loo, moving from his head downward, swallowing him up. And as the blaze moved over him, he began to disappear, until finally his image faded into oblivion. The sword melted away with him, its crystalline hilt hovering in midair, spinning on an invisible axis for the better part of five minutes before shattering into glitter that was scattered on the breeze.

Sydney knelt next to her assistant. "Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"I think so," Nigel replied in a shaky voice. "I saw you being sucked into that awful pit. I was afraid you were going to die. I had to try to save you."

She chuckled. "You know what? This time, you did save me."

He raised his eyes to the angel who had returned his life to him. "What just happened? I mean, what made him disappear like that?"

Daniel answered for his colleague. "The weapon carried death and destruction wherever it went because it was the key that opened the door to hell. It could not take anyone who retained any part of God in them, and living human spirits belong to the Almighty. But for a citizen of Hades, it sent them back to the pits of their own depravity. The sword is gone from earth forever, and Beelzebub is removed from Eden for good."

Sydney swallowed. "Then in a way, he was right. You DID expect me to fail."

"Not at all. The moment you pricked him with the blade, he was already defeated. When he clasped the key in his hand, it merely expedited the process. We expected you to win. You didn't disappoint us."

"Mmm.. ouch.."

Nigel opened his eyes, staring up at the tiled ceiling. He pushed himself up, painfully, gradually aware that he was in a hospital ward. A dark-skinned nurse smiled and stepped to his side, speaking with a distinct accent.

"Ah, so you are awake? That is good. Your lady friend is awake, too. Are you feeling well enough for company, Mr. Bailey?"

Nodding, he allowed his gaze to light on his colleague, who was rolling across the floor in a wheelchair, her leg encased in a cast. "Hi," Sydney sighed. "You had me worried there for a while." She reached out and laid a hand on his forearm. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," he said hoarsely. "I think. Where are we?"

"We're in the hospital at Addis Ababa. We will be going home as soon as you're well enough. It seems that the dig was shut down. Rather violently, actually." Disappointment painted her voice. "I had hoped it was real. I nearly lost you, and for nothing."

"What?" he asked, wondering how fuzzy he really was on the details. "What was a fake?"

"The Angel Sword. When we got here, Van Loo was dead and the sword was pure hoax. It was nothing but an old iron knife, more rust than anything else." Sydney shook her head ruefully. "We should have been more careful. The army moved in and... It wasn't pretty. We were able to hide for a while. Then they found us." Tears welled up in her dark eyes. "I thought at first they'd killed you."

"Then it was all just a dream," he breathed, laying heavily back against the pillows.

The nurse returned a moment later, a puzzled look on her face. "You have a delivery," she told Nigel, handing him a small package. "It was postmarked three days ago. You didn't get here until last night."

Nigel accepted the brown cardboard cube, his fingers tracing unfamiliar handwriting. He tore off the tape and pulled out a small crystal globe, its surface etched in intricate detail, depicting the earth with a single giant continent. A slip of paper fluttered into Sydney's range and she captured it with her fingertips.

"The world is safe now, thanks to the two of you," she read. "Forever, Aaron." Frowning, she added, "Who's Aaron?"

A faint luminescence clung to the small sphere, a light that surrounded the ball like a halo. "I think you might call him a Guardian of Yesterday," Nigel answered thoughtfully. "Or perhaps a guardian of all our days."

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THE END