Chapter 4
He was furious, of course — Metatron. Dina had returned but stood still before Uriel’s home with his veil slipping back from his head, tangling in the onyx threads of his hair, whereas his pale robes were askew, eyes frozen wide with his irises darkened as if staring at the sun too long had burnt him; perhaps, it had.
The man-turned-angel stood at the open doorway with a bewildered twist onto his elderly face in the city of youth.
“Where in the name of God have you been?!” His voice was loud enough to rattle the dozen or so nearby angels that were already listening in while in the midst of heading to their duties — much of which had become constructing homes for the coming humans.
“Metatron,” Dina whispered, the white of his eyes red, almost bloody, and his lips twitched upward, a smile for a fraction of a moment. “I saw a star.” He lifted a hand, finger directed at the sky. “He was beautiful, and he told me… how the world must end.”
“What were you doing there?” Metatron snapped, stepping out and toward the young angel. “I had no one to serve me for many meals, and now you tell me that you’ve disobeyed the Lord to wander the skies? God should punish you. He should have your wings torn off your back!”
A flicker of reason and fear passed over Dina’s scorched eyes.
“Mm,” he blurted. “But— Metatron, I went with Uriel’s permission.
He ordered me. He ordered me to go see the stars.
” His feet were weak beneath him, quite suddenly, and he wavered in place; he was still blinking the dark spots from his vision.
The sight of the gorgeous star with an unfathomable shape, indeed, had begun to burn after a while, but he hadn’t been able to turn away from his smile, his coos.
‘Once, there was a beautiful angel who was so beautiful I couldn’t linger my gaze too much.
His eyes were golden, his skin was shining bronze, and his lips were soft, fluttering against my earlobe when he whispered to me. ’
Dina liked beautiful things — rings, stars, and angels. Once, Azazel had told Dina that he was beautiful too, but Dina didn’t think so. ‘You’ll grow into it,’ he’d teased, but Dina had not grown. Since the war, he had been stunted, killed.
Metatron struck him, as he often did, as he had before Dina spoke to Uriel and left for the stars.
Stinging, like before, the young angel’s head jerked to one direction, his feet stumbling again, but this time he had no moment to recover.
The man-turned-angel took Dina’s veil and hair in a fist, then wrenched him forward, began walking, dragging the young angel.
“You don’t answer to Uriel,” came the harsh scratch of Metatron’s voice. “Come with me.”
Looking to all the angels watching, Dina whispered, “The stars are waking. They said I must act.” Many angels were grimacing and turning away now, one even outstretched a wing to cover the view of Metatron forcing the angel into Uriel’s home. “Metatron, please listen to me.”
“Be silent.”
“What are you doing?” Dina lifted trembling fingers, touched the wrist of an old man as Metatron kicked the door shut behind them.
He thought that he might be released the moment he was pulled inside, but he was yanked down the hall, toward the seating area.
“Where are you taking me?” ‘The books? To clean?’
“When you knocked over that book, you almost found it.” Metatron brought him into the same corridor that the two had been in when Dina had dropped his collection.
“I had a new room made without Uriel’s knowledge.
It’s where the dictionaries for all the languages of humans are being stored.
It’s disorganized. It all needs to be copied and rewritten to the key that I’ve prepared to standardize it. ”
Dina tilted his head, blinked a few times. “But, Metatron, the star—”
“I could be taking you to God,” the old man snapped just as he kicked at the carpet below them, rolling it with his foot to expose a wooden latch and door in the flooring.
“I could tell Him how you’ve disobeyed again, how you are a sinner who should have fallen and how now you’ve spoken to stars without permission.
” After this, he lowered himself to grab the latch and pull the entry open into a dark tunnel leading downward.
“Instead, I’m giving you work to do. You should be thanking me. ” Dina stared. “Thank me.”
“Thank you,” Dina breathed, feeling Metatron’s hand finally release his hair and veil.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t tell the Lord that I’ve sinned again—” He was shoved — quick, unceremoniously.
Wings sprung out, only to slam into the walls of the tunnel; and so despite the rather short drop, Dina scraped his feathers and his sides rough enough to draw blood, which only stung worse when he crashed onto the ground.
Shouting sharply and gasping in some of the dirt that was kicked up, Dina writhed for a moment.
And Metatron looked down at him, expression irritated.
“No— Where’s Uriel?!” Dina, lifting a throbbing head, called: “Where is he?!”
“Already gone,” called Metatron. “So there is no one to argue on your behalf. Get up now. There’s a desk there and some candles. I’ll throw you some cushions and blankets to sleep with soon, and some food when you need it.”
Feeling one pale wing twitch and bleed beneath him, Dina’s face only twisted in greater confusion.
“Why? Do you want me to stay here?” He tried to sit up, grunting, and looked behind himself to faintly see the shadows of a stone desk, a triple candle holder of black metal, and piles upon piles of manuscripts, scrolls, and loose leafs creating thick walls from every direction except where the desk was.
“You will be less trouble down there. You hardly leave this house as it is, so why do you cry to me now?”
“Please.” Dina begged, eyes itching. “I’ll be good. I want to be good. Please don’t leave me here.”
“Finish the standardizing within a century, and you’ll be good and free,” said Metatron, then he took the wood latch, pulled it closed, and drowned Dina in near complete darkness.
The angel didn’t move, not for many minutes, his hands falling to the ground, curling into trembling fists over it and feeling each grain of dirt dig into his skin.
‘He won’t tell God what I’ve done if I just do as he says.
Uriel will return soon. He told me when I sat with him that it would only be a few years.
’ ‘But you don’t have a few years.’ ‘I do, I do. I’ll live forever.
’ ‘The end has been delayed too long.’ It was here that Dina paused, lifted his head.
‘Delayed?’ ‘Hello, Dina.’ The angel startled, one hand flying over his mouth but not quite clamping over it.
Instead, his fingers touched his lips, trembling.
What was that? It was entirely indistinguishable from his own thoughts, except that Dina was sure he hadn’t thought that.
Why would he greet himself without warning? ‘Hello?’ he tried.
What may have been a voice in his head replied, ‘I can’t see into Heaven. There is no starlight there. I can hardly speak to you.’
Dina asked himself, ‘Is that you? The star?’
‘I can see the Earth, Dina.’
‘What do you see?’
‘I see that the end of the world is beginning again, but it’ll be stopped if you don’t act.
’ Dina nodded to himself; he knew Uriel had been directed to Earth and that all the archangels occasionally visited humanity; perhaps, they frequently halted the end times in its tracks.
‘You must leave this place. Go to Earth.’
Frowning, Dina tried to reply, ‘Metatron trapped me beneath Uriel’s library.
He wants me to copy the human languages and standardize their tongues.
’ He lifted his face, as if he could speak through the floor he was locked beneath, past the house, through the bright firmament that protected Heaven from the stars.
‘What should I do? I don’t want to rebel against Metatron. I want to be good.’
‘There’s no need to rebel yet. He was right to put you where you are. Before you visit Earth, you must learn the human tongues. Learn as many of you can. You must also learn human history if you don’t know it yet.’
‘I don’t like their history,’ Dina answered.
‘It’s too complicated for me. I prefer their stories for children.
’ But he remembered how Uriel always snapped at him for reading the wrong things, for his love of fairytales and fantasies.
He liked morals, he liked happy endings.
‘But I suppose I can try.’ Finally, he planted a foot down and reeled up his body to stand.
The room, however, seemed to stretch before him, all the writing tunneled around him becoming clearer as his blinking eyes adjusted to the darkness.
‘There’s so many human languages. It would take another eternity to learn them all. ’
‘Then you’ll have to learn the most abundant ones.’
‘I don’t know what languages they speak on Earth today.’
‘I will help you, and I will teach you how to pronounce their words.’
Dina paused, staring before himself at the desk where he would surely begin work copying everything soon.
He might sleep there as well, if Metatron were ever to drop down the blankets and pillows he promised.
‘Thank you.’ The walls of books at either side of him curved toward each other, threatening to topple and crush him.
‘I’m happy you can still speak to me. I don’t like to be alone. ’
‘You’ll never have to worry about being alone again, Dina.’