Chapter 31
Feather
When I returned to the Great Gate, I knew I would need more than courage to get past the guard.
I peeked around the corner of the wall, cursing internally.
Hope was still there, bundled up in at least three robes to stave off the cold, her vigilant gaze passing over the area every few seconds.
Crap on toast. I was just about to back away, and try to come up with some sort of plan that wasn’t entirely stolen from a cartoon, when something went around my face, covering my mouth.
“Mmmph!” I cried out, the sound almost entirely lost in a burst of freezing wind that whistled around the wall.
“What are you up to, little Scrap?” Righteous’s breath was minty in my ear, and when I recognized his voice, I relaxed into his warm, solid hold. For some reason, that shocked him; he pushed me away from him and turned me around, his hands moving to my shoulders.
For a second, we both stared at each other, me scrambling to think of an excuse for being in this hallway, him blinking those gorgeous golden eyes at me, and chewing at his lower lip the longer I stared.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down and had the inexplicable urge to lick it. I shook the impulse away.
“Why do you think I’m up to something?” I asked, knowing I couldn’t lie to him successfully. “I could be just... taking a walk.” I shivered from the cold, and he lifted one eyebrow.
“Sure,” he whispered. “Well, get back to your room. I’m going on duty, and I’m not letting you anywhere near that gate. It’s dangerous.”
I crinkled my nose, then remembered something important.
“You have to let me stay with you while you guard. You owe me.” He opened his mouth to protest, and I rushed on, “Remember the bet you made in the Maker Hall? That you wouldn’t cry from the pain?
Well, you lost. So now I’m calling in the debt.
All you have to do is let me stand guard at the gate with you now.
” He began to shake his head, and I whispered, “You promised on your wings to do me a favor. This is it.”
I didn’t know exactly what a wing promise meant, but Ry obviously did. His lips went so tight, they turned pale at the edges. “That’s all?” His eyes narrowed when I nodded. “Why?”
“I’m going to try to help it,” I said truthfully, then prevaricated a little. “You sing to it, right? Well, maybe I could help that way.”
He hummed for a moment, then muttered, “Wait until I signal for you.” He lifted himself into the air, the winds buffeting him slightly, and flew around the corner, over to Hope.
She handed what looked like a sword over to him—what in the blazes did they need a sword for?
Did they think enemies or demons were going to come rushing through the gate when it fell?
I gulped, wondering if that was exactly what might happen. I really wasn’t working on enough information in this place.
Hope flew down the corridor across the other side of the gate, and I waited a few minutes until Righteous lifted a hand, waving me out.
He held the long sword by his side and watched the gate as I approached.
“Stay there,” he ordered, pointing to a spot a few yards away.
The wind from the gate blew my hair around my eyes, and I struggled with it until I saw a large, golden hand holding out a strip of cloth.
“Thanks,” I murmured, using it to tie back my hair. “You keep hair ties in your robe?”
“It is my robe,” he said, not looking at me. I glanced down and saw he’d cut the fabric off the edge of his sleeve. That was unexpectedly kind.
I let my eyes follow the lines of his form, taking in the white robe that clung to his muscles, the glimpses of dark leather trousers that peeked out, and the sandals.
Oh my holy hand grenades! I covered my smile with my hand.
He was wearing those high gladiator sandals that laced all the way up to his knees again.
I couldn’t help but remember the dream I’d had of the nest.
I smiled wistfully at the memory, then shook it away, refocusing my attention on the gate. The screaming had lessened slightly, and I heard Righteous humming low.
“It likes that,” I said softly. “The music.”
He kept humming for a while before replying. “Sanctuary used to be filled with music. We would play together in the evenings, and sing.”
“I wish we still did.”
“It’s not necessary. Keeping the balance is what matters,” he said, but he sounded like he was repeating something he’d been told.
“What kind of heartless bassholes think music’s unnecessary? Why not just outlaw happiness entirely? Or smiling?” I snorted. “Probably why there aren’t any puppies up here. Or vibrators. Or—”
“Why do you curse so strangely?” Righteous interrupted. “You make up silly words. Are you trying to make people misjudge you? You are far more intelligent than you pretend.”
I shook my head at his sort-of compliment. “I never take on smut I don’t have to,” I answered. “Even a little bit hurts when you carry around as much as I do.”
His hissing breath wrenched my attention from the swirling gold and gray of the gate. His eyes were turbulent, stirred cauldrons of molten gold. “But you did take on smut you didn’t have to. You took mine, Scrap. Didn’t you? Even though it’s not supposed to be possible…”
“I’m an impossibly unique soul,” I quipped.
His gaze beat down on me with a strange, magnetic heat. “You are indeed.” And then those cruel lips curved upward in a slow, soft smile that did something peculiar to my heart.
It’s not time to make googly eyes at Ry-Ry, Feather. It’s time to find your moment. Resolute, and only halfway wishing I could stop time and steal another kiss from Righteous, I stared back at the gate.
A few minutes passed, and a face flickered past in the gate, the same man I’d seen my first day in Sanctuary. He looked shocked to see me, and then he was gone. Something in me wanted to jump up and race to him… but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t even know how to make this sacrifice.
“What’s wrong?” Righteous asked. Well, more or less demanded.
“Have you ever been attracted to something you shouldn’t be?” I closed my eyes for a second. “Something that could hurt you, if you get too close to it?”
His silence went on a bit too long, and when I glanced up, a deep blush had covered his neck and cheeks. “Why would you ask such a thing?” He cleared his throat. “Your marking, on your neck. You and Mikhail…”
“Yeah, we merged.” I jumped up, reaching high to pound on his back as he seemed to have some sort of coughing fit. “You okay, Ry-Ry?”
When he could speak again, he choked out, “I knew he mated you… but you merged? How was that even possible?”
I chewed at my lip and fought back a smile. “Well, you see, Righteous, when a Mommy angel and a Daddy angel love each other very much—” I burst into laughter at the stricken expression on his face, and for a moment, the room went silent, the wind dropping to nothing, and the gate… humming.
“You have something, just there.” Righteous leaned close, plucking a feather from my hair. “One of mine.”
“Can I have it?”
His eyes went wide, the pupils dilating.
I had a feeling I’d just committed another accidental offense.
But he nodded after a moment, and I picked it out of his fingers and tucked it into my pocket.
A souvenir of Sanctuary. It seemed like the right sort of thing to take with me. I closed my eyes, mustering my courage.
For some reason, it felt like the moment for my big move was here. “Ry, they were asking for someone to make a sacrifice. To go into the gate. How are they going to do that? Whoever ends up volunteering, what will they do?”
He straightened, his eyes on the gate as it slowly began changing and swirling again, growing more shadowed.
A soft sobbing began near the top. “I was here when the last few dozen Angeli walked into the gate. It was heartbreaking to watch, especially when bonded Angeli chose to go in together. They were separated, as only one could enter at a time, and the mate still on this side felt their partner being unmade, I suppose. But they joined them seconds later, so it wasn’t… too bad.”
I refused to think of Mikhail feeling pain if I left.
We’d only just mated; it wasn’t like we were truly mates, the kind who’d lived together for centuries and loved one another.
Or at least, not on his part. “They just walked into the gate?” I scooted closer, so that I was almost touching Ry’s legs.
He shrugged, not looking at me. That was good. “I was never close enough to see everything, but I heard that all they had to do was make their intentions known to the gate, say their name, and then touch it.”
“That’s all?” He nodded. “And smut doesn’t hurt it? Like, Mikhail said the Guides were teaching bad theory.”
“No. If a Protector who isn’t completely stainless touches it, they’d be unmade instantly.
But the gate itself shouldn’t be hurt.” We were both silent for a moment, then he went on.
“I would sacrifice myself to it, but I’m not powerful enough to make a difference for long.
I offered, but Gavriel told me I’m needed here.
If I were purified, he could help me ascend, become one of the High Angeli.
Then I’d be strong enough to do some real good—help power Sanctuary, or apprentice to Mikhail, or even walk into the gate and be enough of a source to keep it standing for another century. ”
“Why can’t you get purified?” I moved my hands slowly, hoping he’d keep talking for just a while longer.
He pushed one robe sleeve up, his fingers moving absently on the underside of his arm.
“Centuries ago, I failed my charge. I was supposed to protect a young woman, and I was afraid. I told myself I wasn’t allowed to intervene, that she had to make the choice…
but she was brutally hurt and killed, while I watched like a coward.
I was following the rules, but I wasn’t doing what was right.
In the end, two girls were murdered, and it was my fault.
I can’t forgive myself for being afraid to do what I needed to. I failed as a Protector.”
“I’ve done the same thing.” I rose, softly taking his hand in mine.
Everything was ready. “You should forgive yourself. I’m sure whoever that charge was, she forgave you a long time ago.
Just remember from now on,” I said, getting ready to run, “the right thing is almost always the scary thing.” Throwing him a wink, I sprinted toward the gate, not looking back when I heard him shout and fall to the floor trying to grab me.
It would have been almost impossible since I’d tied the long laces of his sandals together while he talked. He was trussed up like a Christmas goose from the knees down.
“Feather! Get back here!” he yelled. “Don’t do it!”
I stopped, only inches from the gate, and rushed to speak. I didn’t know my whole name, but I had a feeling I knew enough. To save Mikhail, and Sunny, and Righteous, and all the souls in Sanctuary who were trying to keep the balance, I had to do this.
And I could redeem myself as well. I didn’t have to be useless; I wouldn’t be. The others would nod when they passed the gate, and remember me.
“I’m Feather, named Inutilia, who lived first as Dina’s sister Tili.
I’m Nothing, a Useless Scrap of the Beautiful One, Arabella, friend of Sunny, the Light of Truth, and”—my throat threatened to close up—“soulmate of Mikhail the Great-Souled, the Maker of Sanctuary.” Nothing happened, so I added, “I’m here to make a Great Sacrifice to save Sanctuary.
I know I’m not purified, but I’ve been told it won’t hurt you. Can I come in?”
A bell pealed out from the gate, and then a chorus of singing, so beautiful I thought my heart might stop from the sheer glory of it.
I reached one hand out and touched the golden material of the Great Gate.
The feather in my nape burned white hot, but I didn’t feel physical pain, only grief that I’d never be able to see Mikhail again, or tell him how for a short time, he’d made me feel important. Vital.
Beloved.
The birthmark on my chest pulsed with an answering cold fire, and I pressed my other hand to it, wishing I had also been able to say goodbye to Rumple, wherever he was.
I sent up a farewell to the void, and felt his answer.
It wasn’t words, but emotions that vibrated with alarm, traveling light years to reach me, demanding an answer for what I was attempting.
Protect, I thought back at him. I have to protect all of them. I knew he’d understand.
Behind me, struggling on the floor with his laces, Righteous was shouting, “Don’t! Tili, don’t!”
But the gate was already pulling me in. I turned my head and felt a burning in my shoulder blades that rivaled the heat from the feather on my nape, and strangely, Righteous’s one in my pocket.
I almost laughed when I saw what had happened.
I was shining, glowing white-gold, sparkling like a strange star.
And I had wings. Little ones, made of silver feathers that matched my hair.
Righteous was almost on his feet. Somewhere down one of the corridors, Mikhail was also shouting.
If I didn’t go now, I wouldn’t have the courage.
“Let me in,” I whispered, and stepped into the gate, feeling as every single inch of me, every particle, was being stripped away and tossed into a maelstrom.
Every part except one feather, which floated free behind me and sailed back into Sanctuary at the last second.
And then I was gone.