Chapter 26 Feather #2
She lay on the far side of the enormous bed, her head propped up on one elbow. “Feather, that’s the thing. You don’t smell. You look—well, not terrible, but not great. But you don’t smell at all anymore. Like, you know how Gavriel and Mikhail have that scent?”
“Like the world’s priciest body spray?” I closed my eyes, thinking of Gavriel’s spicy musk, and Mikhail’s deep, richly masculine whiskey and smoke scent. “Are you saying I smell like that?”
She wobbled one hand back and forth. “More like roses. And with that bright silver hair? Feather, you’re going to be stunning. Everyone sees it. You’ll have a lot of friends soon.”
I scooted over on the bed, taking her hands in mine.
“But you liked me when I smelled like a sewer, and looked like I’d been dragged out of one, Sunny.
Ride or die birches are for eternity.” Her trembling smile was all I needed to go in for the hug.
When I pulled back, I changed the subject.
“Now, can we finally talk about merging?” I winked.
“I saw those three chicks rubbing the edges of your wings when they thought no one else was looking. You’ve been merging, haven’t you? ”
“Oh, girl, yes.” She grinned evilly. “I’ve got a lot to teach you now.”
Sunny taught me all about merging. So much that I couldn’t make eye contact with any other Protector on my way to the Maker Hall for my morning of knife play. When I got to the Hall, though, I knocked and knocked at the main door, but Mikhail didn’t answer. Was he sleeping? Avoiding me?
“Good thing I’m sneaky,” I whispered, walking around to the side of the Hall.
I’d seen Mikhail vanishing behind a screen in his workshop more than once while I was recovering, and I figured he had a network of secret passageways.
I was correct. I entered an empty Assembly Hall, and felt around on the walls, eventually finding a panel that was almost completely invisible.
I slipped into the tunnel behind it, using my keen sense of direction to get lost three times—opening doors into the Dining Hall, a full Assembly Hall, and a bedroom where four Protectors were merging so heavily they didn’t even notice me there—before I finally opened a door that led into the workshop.
It was empty, the fire out and the lights off, though the small globes of material Mikhail was using to make the four new Novices pulsed gently on one table, and their glow made it possible for me to start the fire.
I needed the warmth; it was legitimately cold in the Hall today.
I shivered, piling wood up and using the fancy long matches Mikhail had conjured up from somewhere to light the pile.
The firelight flared up, and I warmed my hands, gazing around the room.
It was strangely messy, which wasn’t like Mikhail.
He was very particular about keeping this space clean, even if it was crowded with tables and tools.
But today, things were knocked over, like he’d left in a hurry.
Maybe he’d been late to a Guide meeting, or whatever he did on the rare occasions he left the Maker Hall.
I was picking up some fallen chips of marble when something caught my eye. A few flecks of glitter had somehow gotten stuck to the sides of the new Novice spheres.
If Mikhail saw that, he would be so pissed.
When I’d asked about them, he’d explained that the Novices at this point were more like seeds than Protectors, and were super vulnerable.
Each one had a little bit of pure soul material in it, but in their first life on Earth, they were born like normal humans.
They lived that life—usually cut short, though not always—to learn how to navigate the earthly realm, and to develop sympathy and connection to their future charges.
After that first mission, though, most Protectors were inserted into communities or families that needed more short-term help, and would return to Sanctuary each time their job was done. So the four balls of light were like sleeping angel babies, waiting to be born for the very first time.
And now my glitter had contaminated them. I did not want Growly to see this.
I grabbed a pair of tweezers off a table, and tried to pick the little turquoise and pink flakes off as carefully as possible.
The balls felt the tiniest bit soft, like boba or stress balls or something.
My fingers itched to feel them—but Mikhail had told me never to touch anything on his work table with my bare hands.
I worked for a half hour, humming as I did.
The song in my head was one Rumple had sung to me a lot—especially when the pain had been really bad between lives, while I was learning to carry the new weight around.
For some reason, this song had always made me feel stronger, and more…
competent, though the lyrics were in some language I’d never heard. The tune was super catchy, though.
I was almost done cleaning the Novice globes, but one final piece of glitter would not come off, and just moved around as I tweezed.
“This is a lot harder than plucking eyebrows,” I whispered.
“Okay, come on. Work with me here.” I set down the tweezers and licked the tip of my cleanest finger.
“You can’t stay on the nice clean soul, okay, little glitter?
I’ll put you in the box with all your friends.
” I dabbed it once. “You perfectly shiny—” Then once more.
“Lovely—” Ugh, it wasn’t coming off! “Come on, stubborn glitter baby!” I licked my fingertip again and dabbed it a tiny bit harder, moving my finger in a quick flicking motion.
“Gotcha, you little devil!” With the last rub, I felt the material of the soul bend a tiny bit, but the glitter came away.
“My precious!” I cackled, holding the glitter overhead in a perfect imitation of Gollum in Mount Doom. Minus the falling.
“What are you doing?”
Gavriel’s voice shook the entire room, and the speck of glitter fell off my finger and back onto the sphere.
Crapola! Where did he come from? I shoved my hands behind my back and scooted away from the table.
“Cleaning?” I squeaked. “I have to come here every day to cut off my soul smut. Mikhail said it’s not safe to do it anywhere else. ”
He stomped across the room, and I flinched instinctively when he loomed over me.
His lips tightened, but he leaned back. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.
I’m not going to hurt you, Novice.” I was about to thank him for making that clear, when he went on, “But I don’t care how inappropriate Mikhail has been with you, you call all High Angeli by their titles, not their names.
Understood?” I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
Gavriel was in a mood today. “Get away from this table.”
I scurried off as commanded, watching as he pulled back a small tapestry that hung on the wall.
Weird. How had I not noticed that before?
Behind it was a golden porthole-looking thing that led to a gleaming, golden tunnel.
Not big enough for Gavriel, or even Sunny.
I could probably squeeze through, I thought.
A strange feeling—like I was being drawn to the space he’d uncovered, pulled through the gap—had my feet almost slipping across the floor.
I grabbed hold of the edge of the table, watching as Gavriel gently—almost reverently—picked up the tray of souls and angled it up, sliding all four of the balls out the hole.
“What are you doing?” I gasped. “Did you just throw those away?”
“Of course not,” he growled. “That cohort was ready to go to Earth. Mikhail would have sent them himself, but he is on a mission.”
“A mission?” I parroted. Gavriel turned, his expression as heavy as a thousand thunderclouds.
“I just meant, I didn’t know he went on missions all that often.
He told me… Anyway.” I decided to stop talking.
Gavriel’s face was turning a very peculiar shade.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to question you, High Angelus. ”
“So you do know the difference in our stations.” The glance he gave me was turbulent as he turned and walked toward the main exit. When he got to it, and realized it was still locked, he went scarily still. “How did you get in?”
I tried to keep my voice from shaking. “Mikhail’s way? I mean, Maker Mikhail. You don’t have a key?”
“The main lock only responds to the Maker’s hand.” He moved swiftly toward the hidden entrance to the tunnel.
“How long will Mik— High Angelus Mikhail be gone?” I asked, feeling sick. Missions could last years. Decades. “Why didn’t he say goodbye?”
“He didn’t have time,” Gavriel said stiffly, standing beside the small door. “He’ll be gone as long as it takes to remember who he is. What we are.” He sniffed. “I still can’t understand it. Why he would…” He clenched his jaw, cutting himself off, and began to step into the dark, narrow corridor.
“You sent him away,” I called out, stopping him. “He didn’t want to go, did he?”
Gavriel didn’t turn to answer, but his great golden wings rustled with tension.
Anger. “I sent him away to gain some perspective. I don’t know what you did to…
seduce my best friend. We need him here more than ever.
But you are his weakness. I don’t know what you are, or who you are, but I will find out if you are deceiving us.
And if you are working against the balance, against Sanctuary, I will unmake you, even if it hurts Mikhail for me to do so. ”
“But I wouldn’t hurt him, or anyone. I’m not strong enough to, anyway,” I said, my heart shattering inside me as he vanished. “I’m nothing.” The naming chime hummed softly next to me, and I picked it up, holding it to my chest as I worried and wept.