Chapter 7 Gavriel #2
She had slept, and never awoken again. But I’d remained faithful to her memory and to our future.
Even when every other High Angeli besides me and Mik left Sanctuary, most of them sacrificing themselves to help shore up the failing Great Gate.
Even when it became clear that Mikhail would never have a mate, and that I might never see Arabella’s eyes open again… I had stayed true to her.
The centuries of monotony and struggle had hardened me, turning my heart into a statue as lifeless as Arabella was now. Until today, when I’d been drawn somehow to that filthy, foul-mouthed Novice.
Although she wasn’t actually foul-mouthed.
She used those made-up curses instead, for attention possibly.
Everything about her was slightly ridiculous, even her nickname.
Feather. Such a fragile name for someone who was so thickly coated in smut.
It was possible just her presence in Sanctuary could shift the balance here. Did it even matter?
The end loomed over everything. The Great Gate that connected Sanctuary to the other realms was close to failing; any pressure on it from Earth’s side would spell out the rapid, inevitable end of Sanctuary. And once Sanctuary fell… I shook the grim thought away, and began pacing.
There was something I wasn’t seeing, something connected to this deceitful, disrespectful murderer. Sexy Judgy Voice Guy indeed. Had she no concept of the importance of names?
Names.
I blinked. Of course, why hadn’t I seen it? Mikhail!
In a moment, he appeared at the hidden doorway that led to his Hall. As usual, an aura of shame lingered around his eyes when he glanced in Arabella’s direction. “Has she moved?” Mik’s tone betrayed a hint of optimism; he’d probably assumed I’d noticed a change and summoned him.
“No. I’m sorry, I didn’t think. We can go outside.”
“You called me. What do you need?” The dark circles beneath his eyes were more pronounced, his shine dimmed with exhaustion. What had he been doing?
“That Novice. The… smutty one.”
His dark, bright eyes gleamed with a hint of humor. “I knew which one.”
“Have you been able to learn her name?” He’d taken her into his workshop again that afternoon. “Did you find her naming mark?”
“Not yet. I looked everywhere, but there’s so much smut…”
Yes, far too much. And it obscured her true name?
My suspicions at her being some sort of spy resurfaced.
“How could she hide it?” I resumed my pacing, wondering what use the Abyss could have for a small, weak Novice like her.
She seemed helpless, and even in my thoughts, I wanted to protect her for some reason.
That alone made me suspicious of her; why would those strange green eyes haunt me as they had since she’d glared at me in the Assembly Hall?
Why could I not stop feeling both revulsion and a strange desire to spend time with her, uncover all her secrets, know her?
“She couldn’t hide it from me. Gav, I’m certain she has no mark.” Our eyes met.
“Azazel? He’s been gone for centuries.” There was no way he could have anything to do with a soul so young, one who had only been to Earth once.
I’d felt the truth of that answer in my bones.
And I would have noted her if she’d ever been in Sanctuary before.
No one could meet that soul and forget her.
Instead of answering, Mik shrugged. “I did learn something this morning. A part of her name, at least.”
I smiled. With even a partial name, I could investigate in the Hall of Records and find where this Protector had been sent, track her movements through her earthly life and discover just how badly unbalanced her choices had been. Trace her back to her origin.
“What was it?”
To my surprise, he didn’t answer at once.
When he did, there was frustration in his tone.
“I would prefer not to say. When she spoke, the naming chime was very soft. As if she had more than… Well. I’ll keep searching.
” I waited, but he didn’t speak again. His eyes landed on Arabella, and he frowned as if something new had occurred to him, but he kept silent.
“Could she be from the Abyss?” I mused aloud.
“No. She has no artifice,” Mikhail responded at last. “She’s filthy but seems honest.” He let out a strange half-laugh. “Maybe too honest.” I found myself smiling as well, remembering the fiasco in the Assembly Hall.
For some reason another thought intruded.
Sexy Voice Guy. She’d commented on my… sexiness.
I knew I was physically appealing to other High Angeli at least, but no one had made that sort of remark about me, or to me, for many centuries.
I was the leader of Sanctuary, not some sex symbol.
But she had entertained some incredibly lascivious thoughts about my voice alone.
She’d never even seen my face, I realized.
What would she think of me? Would she find my physical form attractive as well?
I hadn’t thought of how I looked when I chose this form so long ago.
After she saw me, would she still want me to—what had she said? —tie her up and play punishment games?
I glanced at Arabella again, guilt and longing battling in my mind.
She was the only one whose regard I should ever consider important.
Would she have wanted me to do such things, if we had ever had a chance to be together?
For some reason, thinking of Arabella in that way felt wrong.
My stomach churned with unease and what might be embarrassment.
I turned to the door to hide my frown, and Mikhail followed me out, closing the door gently, as if Arabella were merely sleeping.
“You didn’t sing her a farewell,” he said softly. I’d asked him centuries ago to stop nagging me about my singing. But Mikhail was nothing if not persistent.
“I spoke to her, I always do.” I took a steadying breath when his answering hum felt like a condemnation.
Back when Rafe had been in charge of Sanctuary, in his spare time he’d written thousands of songs for every occasion: greetings, partings, celebrations and mourning.
Even songs for merging. Sanctuary had been filled with music.
After he left, it had grown quieter year by year.
The imbalance had taken so much of my energy and time, and my continual failures as the leader of Sanctuary had stripped away my joy.
After Arabella had fallen, I’d lost all desire to sing.
I wasn’t even certain if I could anymore.
Besides Mikhail’s humming as he worked, and the Head Protectors I’d assigned to guard and sing to the Great Gate, there was no music in this realm.
At some point, the Guides had elected to focus all their attention on fighting the shadows, so the newer Novices and Protectors had never learned the repertoire of our realm.
I kept promising myself I’d teach them, but there was never time.
I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “The Novice has gone to be purified? Maybe her naming mark will surface.”
His answer shocked me. “Gav, she’s been purified twice today. It doesn’t work. I had to use the soul knife to make any progress at all.”
“You cut her?” I didn’t know why, but rage swamped me at the thought of him taking a knife to her form, though I had done the same when I’d found her. I forced myself to walk calmly out of the low-ceilinged passageway and into the wider Hall. The ceiling high above us flashed with lightning.
“Of course not.” Mik backed up a step as I stretched out my wings. “She did it.”
“She had to cut herself?” That was almost worse.
His eyes widened. “Gavriel. You know that’s how the knife works. No one else can do it for you.”
I did know that. Just, the thought of a soul so small, with so much smut, having to carve it out of her own flesh.
.. I tried to rein in my fury, to remember she had earned it.
I tried to ignore the sudden fear that she might not persevere in the task, but couldn’t quite manage it.
My feathers trembled at the mere thought that she might choose not to endure it.
Why did that terrify me so? The dread I was feeling must be for Mikhail, that he might have to suffer the pain of unmaking another one of his own creations. That was the only thing that made sense.
“Did it work?”
His eyes were haunted. “She cried for four hours today. It cleared away some of it. Not enough. She’ll need to do it again.
Possibly many times. She’s worse off than any Protector I’ve seen in my existence.
” I tried to hide my shock. Mikhail was a thousand years older than I; he had witnessed mysteries far before my creation.
I steeled myself against the unwanted sympathy that accosted me.
A part of me wanted to fly across Sanctuary to her, comfort her.
Make certain she wasn’t damaged from the blade.
I forced myself to speak calmly, “It’s a good thing the other Guides are calling a vote to shun her.
She’ll have plenty of time in your Maker Hall to deal with her smut.
And for you to find out what her purpose here is. ”
His brow furrowed. “Check on the gate, Gav. I felt a trembling when I was in my workshop.”
We both knew if the gate fell, we wouldn’t need to worry about dirty Novices, or sleeping mates, or mysteries. “I felt wind as well,” I agreed. “I’ll see what I can do.” With that, I launched myself into the air and flew away from my friend.
If only flying away from the thoughts that plagued me were half as easy.