Chapter 15 Feather #2
A few others hummed in appreciation, but the Guide made a disgusted sound.
“We were made for more than this,” they sputtered, waving a hand around the room.
I took a quick breath through my nose, and froze.
Had someone else farted? The room smelled like sour laundry all of a sudden.
“We were meant for the Celestial Realm. This is a temporary, onerous assignment. My heart breaks for Righteous, knowing he will never ascend. But as soon as Gavriel returns to Sanctuary, I can promise you the pure among us will be taken through the gate and move on to a superior realm.”
This was something I hadn’t heard before. “Wait, once it’s working, you just walk through the gate and end up in the Celestial Realm? It’s that easy?”
“Of course not,” they scoffed. “Normally, one of the High Angeli must approve a passage to the Celestial Realm. They inspect us to make certain we are pure. Otherwise, we might not ascend, and fall instead into the Abyss.”
I exhaled. “That’s good.” I had a feeling Gavriel and Mikhail wouldn’t let anyone pass through the gate who might fall. “Why hasn’t anyone ascended for so long, though?”
“I forget how little you know.” The Guide gave a small, satisfied chuckle, before walking my way.
The sour funk seemed to travel with them, and I examined their robes for smut.
It was either bean burrito day in the Guide teachers’ lounge, or their robes hadn’t been put in the magical tumble dryer long enough or…
They leaned close, and I almost gagged. The putrid smell was coming from their breath.
I almost recognized it from Earth; I’d smelled it before.
But where? I wanted to mention the breath issue, perhaps offer a mint if I could beg someone to check their toga pockets for one, but the odor was making me queasy.
I slapped a hand over my mouth, just in case.
“Ascension comes with a price. Sanctuary draws power from each ascended Angelus. When a Protector first ascends, it can be difficult to moderate the effect of the pull on the soul.”
“So… people just didn’t want to have to pitch in?” My voice was squeaky through my fingers.
“Such ignorance.” Their patronizing tone was even worse when they waved the others who laughed to be silent.
“Sanctuary needed strong Protectors, not weak Angeli. And with no possibility of soulmating and moving on, there was no reason for our best and brightest to weaken themselves.” It still sounded like a load of donkey dung to me, but I held my mouth shut and nodded.
“The Guides were expected to stay in Sanctuary, with the war for balance on Earth requiring more of us here than ever. We all chose to stay, Guides and Protectors alike, and vowed on our wings to gain permission from the leader of Sanctuary before attempting to cross. The gate was so weak, it was decided no one could attempt it.”
I saw tiny stars as I held my breath, the Guide’s hood gaping open. I could just make out an angry, hard face. A hooked nose, a narrow chin, and the glint of a tooth.
“When you made your pitiful attempt at a sacrifice—and it didn’t surprise any of us that your sacrifice was rejected—you sealed the gate temporarily. That made it clear to all of us. It’s time to move on. This realm is weak, and we deserve more.”
“I thought Guides were supposed to give up their names and their work on Earth to serve here,” I said, still trying not to vomit as I sucked in a breath to speak.
Their sleeve rolled up, and I saw a forearm, perfect and shining almost as bright as Gavriel had before he’d picked up that smut on his last mission.
Why did this Guide stink? “I thought you were the role models for sacrifice.”
“It wasn’t meant to be a life sentence,” they spat out, a tiny bit of spittle flying from their mouth and landing on my toga. “Only the purest, most gifted are selected as Guides. Teaching the future generations is a privilege. One that leads to even greater rewards!”
I stared down at the spot on my robe where their spit had landed.
It was dark gray, and the grease from it was already staining the fabric there.
My eyes flew to theirs as they sucked in a breath.
“Greater rewards? I think your ash is showing there, prof,” I murmured just loud enough for them to hear.
“That’s not a good look for a Guide. I can recommend a super effective way to get rid of stubborn smut stains.
I even know who has the tool for the job. ”
The Guide’s robes trembled—with rage or fear, I wasn’t sure.
I held still, ready to duck if they lashed out.
“Seminar is dismissed,” they announced suddenly and whirled away, heading back for their lectern and the secret door.
“Spend the rest of your time purifying your bodies and clearing your minds.”
The room was still, until one student spoke up. “What’s going on? The Guide never stops class early.”
I stood. There was something really, really wrong with this Guide.
Not only with what they had taught, but…
it dawned on me where I’d smelled that funky odor before.
It was what that slimy politician had smelled like after I’d dusted him for selling children into slavery in Ecuador.
His evil had smelled sour, like old, ruined laundry.
“This is bullshit,” someone cursed, and I shot them a look. They were so concerned with purity, but their mouths were like toilets up here.
“Why did their breath stink?” I asked, but the other students had already begun shuffling to the door and flying away. Only the guy who had been zapped, Truth, stayed.
“You’re Feather.” He held out a hand. “I’m Truth. Sorry this was your first class. It’s the worst one, so that’s good.”
“It only gets better?” I returned his grin when he nodded.
“Want to fly down to the Dining Hall? We can grab a juice.” He stood and unfolded his wings. They were really pretty up close, all shades of brown and gray.
“Sorry, my wings are purely decorative,” I said, unfolding them to show him what I meant. “You can go, though. I have a ride coming in a while.”
“Nah, I can wait with you. Nothing better to do.” His face was open, his expression guileless. Which sort of made sense.
“I like your wings,” I told him, as we moved to the open doorway, standing in it while Protectors flew past without noticing us.
“You’re the only one to say that,” he admitted. “Most people see the gray and think yuck, it’s smut.”
I lifted my arm. “Well, they’re going to think I’ve internalized my smut.”
He hissed as he saw the complex patterns underneath the surface smut on my skin. “That happened in… the gate?”
“I’m not really supposed to talk about it,” I hedged. No one had said that, but it seemed safer not to share that I’d been in the Abyss.
“That’s not true,” Truth accused, his face a little green. Did lies make him puke?
“Sorry,” I cringed, when he told me that very thing. “I guess you would know. My best birch is Sunny, the Light of Truth. She says it’s super awful when people lie around her.”
“Yeah, Sunny does the big picture stuff. She’s sort of my role model.” He ran a hand through his hair. “My name is Truth in the Smallest Detail, so I’m never going to live up to her.”
“That’s a cool name,” I said, making a mental note to tease Sunny later about being a role model. “What does it mean for you, like on a daily basis?”
He stepped closer, looking around. “Well, for one thing, it means people don’t have to lie for me to pick up on it.
Like the Guide who teaches this class? Everything they’ve taught so far this session isn’t necessarily untrue.
But it’s skewed. The knowledge itself has been corrupted, if that makes sense. ”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’m so relieved it’s not just me. All that crap they spouted, that’s not how it works on Earth.”
“How would you know?” His dark eyes were quizzical.
Should I tell this guy? He was a stranger, but it felt like I could trust him.
And I had to start making friends up here.
Especially if the Guides were somehow tainted.
“I lived down there for four centuries before they found me,” I explained.
His eyes went saucer wide. “Yeah, I was lost. By the time Gavriel ‘extracted’ me, I’d had to do a lot of things. ”
“You killed people,” he murmured. “That’s what the Guides said at an Assembly. They said your crimes were unredeemable.”
“But you know that’s not true. There are no limits to grace.”
He took a shaky breath. “That—right there! That was truth, no detail wrong with the statement.” He rubbed his arms with both hands. “It feels so good when someone speaks truth like that. Almost no one does it anymore.”
I decided to ask the question I thought I’d save for Righteous, or Sunny. “The Guide’s breath smelled awful. They said that imbalance always shows on the outside here. Is that true?”
I knew his answer before he said it, though he spoke so quietly, his reply was almost impossible to hear.
“No. From what I can tell, from the details I’ve put together, the Guides are almost all tainted.
On the inside.” He chewed at his lip. “Prosperity is one of the worst, but Tradition? They’re the one that worries me most.”
“Why? Who is Tradition?”
Truth’s eyes grew even more troubled. “They’ve been running the Guides for thousands of years, and my older friends tell me High Angelus Gavriel just recently gave them more power than any Guide has ever had.
I can feel down deep that Tradition’s not being untruthful, that they honestly believe everything they’re doing and saying is right. Justified. But Tradition smells stale.”
“Weird.”
He nodded. “What’s weirder is that most of the Head Guides seem to smell fine to all the older Protectors. It’s just those of us, the younger ones, who even notice it anymore. There’s something off about Tradition. They may not be tainted, but they shouldn’t be trusted with all that power.”