Chapter 27 #3
While we had been conversing mentally, Tradition had suggested that Righteous was mentally unbalanced. “Head Protector Righteous, you were seen attempting to remove your own wings at the Great Gate. Can you tell us what your aim was? Why would you attempt such a thing?”
Ry refused to answer, again and again. Finally, Tradition declared him incapable of leading, and the tenor of the room made it clear that there weren’t many who disagreed.
To my relief, Ry was only ordered back to the cell to “meditate” until Gavriel returned.
But that was only because I was the criminal mastermind who had broken into the cells and somehow mesmerized Righteous into mating with me.
When my turn came, with Tradition ready to question me, I was so exhausted I could hardly stand. Valor tore the cloth off my mouth roughly, whispering, “You picked the wrong side.”
I didn’t answer. I mean, maybe I had. Whose side was I even on? If Rumple came rampaging through the gate right now, overrunning all of Sanctuary with a shadow horde, with the exception of a few friends, I’d say “Clean house, birches,” and make popcorn.
“Feather, that’s what you claimed as your name, wasn’t it?” Tradition asked once I’d been escorted to the very center of the podium. “But your real name was very different. Tell it to us.”
I was startled. Sharing my true name in front of everyone here seemed a lot more invasive than being strip-searched. Righteous’s mischievous eyes gave me courage, dared me to go ahead. “Feather, The Most Beautiful—,” I began, but Tradition cut me off.
“No. What name did High Angelus Mikhail give you?”
I slumped, half-relieved. “Oh, that one. I was Nothing, a Useless Scrap of the Beautiful One—”
Before I could finish, he was speaking over me, asking rhetorical questions about whether I had even been meant to exist. “Who taught you how to sacrifice yourself to the gate? Who gave you the idea in the first place?” I had just taken a breath when he asked, “Did you even go into the gate when you left Sanctuary?”
“No. I mean, I guess at first? But then I was in the Abyss—”
He sucked a breath through his teeth. “How did you survive? Are you in league with the forces in the Abyss? Did they send you back to break the gate, to sabotage our mission? Did you seal it intentionally when you left? Or damage it further on your return? How did you return, for that matter, and for what purpose? Do you mean to harm the High Angeli here?”
Reading his thoughts was like trying to swim through mud. All I could make out was that he needed to protect Sanctuary from me. “I… I don’t know what to say,” I whispered when he finally stopped shouting questions.
“Answer this truthfully then. I heard a rumor that you were mated a second time to High Angelus Mikhail shortly before he flew down to protect the Earth from a corporeal demon.”
“That’s true,” I said, and waited.
Tradition turned to stare dolefully at Righteous.
“And in his absence, by your own admission, you impressed a mating feather on Righteous while he was recovering from grave injury.” He turned to the crowd and announced, “She was already mated when she took advantage of Righteous’s weakness, his unconscious state, and stole his choice from him.
A spiritual rape, if you will. And spiritual infidelity to our own Maker in addition to her crime.
” His voice lowered as the Hall exploded into cries of outrage.
Directed at me. I could feel their vitriol pouring out.
It felt like a weight being dropped on my soul, and I staggered.
I couldn’t muster the strength to defend myself.
I could hardly stay on my feet. I tried to close off my mind, to not read the hateful thoughts that pummeled me, but it was almost impossible.
“And the ancient punishment for that crime is death.”
Righteous was yelling through his gag, being held back by Guides. Sunny was flinging herself against the much stronger Guides who held her, while Hope was… praying? Perception was listening to something, his head tilted as his eyes grew wider.
“Should I have let him die?” I asked softly. “If you could protect the one you loved, is there any price you wouldn’t pay? I didn’t hurt anyone.” Did I?
Tradition looked down at me, frowning. “You may believe that your crimes are insignificant. But the balance is precarious at best. All our lives, and the realm, is at stake. If we allow you to overturn millennia of tradition and law, if we don’t scrub out the impurity as soon as we recognize it—you—then we will be to blame when Sanctuary falls.
I take no joy in this judgment.” His voice was as earnest as I’d ever heard.
It rang with truth, and the whole crowd gathered there could tell.
He meant every word. I was a blight, and needed to be extinguished.
But his truth wasn’t mine. Or Mikhail’s, or Sunny’s. And I prayed to the Singer of All Songs that it wasn’t Gavriel’s.
I knew it wasn’t Truth’s, who was standing closer to the podium now, and looked like he was about to be sick. Righteous had begun shouting again, and I fought my torpor to open my mind to hear Truth’s thought.
Righteous told me the word to open the Flight Hall. I can go to Earth and tell them what’s happening.
No, I thought back, each word an anchor I pulled from the depths of my mind.
There’s no time. Go here instead, as soon as you can sneak away.
And I gave him exact instructions. I felt bad when his eyes went suddenly bloodshot, and reminded myself not to speak High Angelic in someone’s thoughts again.
If I lived long enough to have the chance.
Black stars swum in my own vision as I felt Sanctuary pulling energy from me fast.
Too fast.
“We will carry out the sentence immediately,” Tradition announced, as Truth scooted away. “Guides, seal the doors. This must be witnessed by every soul in Sanctuary.”
Perception flared his wings, and Tradition had the gag removed so he could speak.
“What about the ones you have incarcerated in the cells?” Perception licked his dry lips.
“There are at least ten there.” He’d obviously had the same thought as me, though I’d sent Truth to the opposite end of Sanctuary.
If the Protectors here knew what had been going on—if we had some proof—maybe this whole miscarriage of justice could be avoided. Where were our allies?
My silent question was answered by the smug grin on Valor’s face, and his next words. “Ten times ten. The spiritual malaise has been spreading so quickly, we had no choice but to isolate them.”
“That is in fact what the cells were built for,” Tradition said somberly.
For some reason, Truth turned his head and puked on the floor, as the Head Guide went on.
“It was to provide a quiet, safe space for those suffering from soul decline. We can’t disturb them; it might do further damage to their already fragile psyches.
” Truth scrambled for the door, still vomiting.
The Guides there let him leave, against Tradition’s orders, after he inadvertently splashed one of them.
I closed my eyes, feeling weaker by the second, but unable to stop the leaching of power from me. I called out to Rumple, to Mikhail, to Gavriel—to anyone—for help. There was no answer except for the tiniest glimmer that winked up at me from the floor. A piece of glitter at my feet. Silly, useless.
But distracting.