Chapter 34 Mikhail
Mikhail
“Growly?”
My little soulmate’s voice woke me a few hours after we’d all slipped into an exhausted sleep.
I’d spoken with Gavriel mentally before exhaustion and heartsickness at the state of our realm swamped me, and I’d meant to close my eyes for only a moment, then rise to help him as he questioned Tradition and each of the Guides.
But Feather’s weariness had resonated through my soul, and I wouldn’t have disturbed her slumber for the world.
Righteous still slept, and I smiled, thinking about him. I wouldn’t tell him this, though he might sense it in my thoughts, but I was glad she’d chosen him. His youth and relative innocence—for all that he thought he was wise and even jaded—were like a tonic to me.
I hadn’t known how deeply he loved Feather, though I’d wondered. He almost worshiped her, saw her as some sort of dream goddess in his thoughts. Even her physical state now hadn’t dissuaded him from intimacy, or from showing the depths of his love.
Of course, the smut Feather wore now wasn’t precisely the same sort she’d worn before. For one thing, it didn’t stick to her. And when it came away, it transformed and washed clean, which had almost frightened me the first time it happened.
It also didn’t smell bad. I’d wondered at that, but when I realized the stuff had the scent of roses, and I’d seen the significance of those flowers in Righteous’s mind, I’d understood.
Feather was changing the nature of smut. Her sacrifice and willingness to bear it transformed the sins of the others into something that—though I would never admit it to her—was beautiful.
Glitter.
“Where does it go?” Feather’s voice pulled me back.
“Yes, sweet soul?”
“Where does the smut go? When it turns into glitter, and you wash it away. Where does it end up?” I was startled to realize she’d been reading my thoughts.
Her presence was so subtle, I hadn’t even noticed her still there.
Or maybe we were merged in a new way. Breaking more rules of what it meant to be Angeli.
“Well, normally, the energy in the gel neutralizes the smut. When we wash it down the drains, it goes out into the void.”
“The Abyss?”
“Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Abyss has taken over most of what used to be the space between realms—the void is its colloquial name.
But before, it just went into nothingness and dissipated.
” I sighed, and went on. “But I’m not at all sure what’s happening with your smut.
It still has physical form when it’s washed away.
” I’d thought about clogged drains the day before—had it only been one night since we’d returned to Sanctuary? It felt like an age.
“I hope it’s going out into the Abyss,” she whispered. “I hope Rumple sees it and knows it’s from me. Maybe he can use it for an art project there.”
How had I been so fortunate as to have this wonder for my mate? “You love him so much,” I said when I could speak again. “You truly believe you’ll rescue him.”
“Of course I do,” she grumbled. “If I didn’t believe that everything was going to work out, I’m not sure I could get out of bed most days.
” She ran her hands over the sheets. “Although I think getting out of bed is overrated. We could just stay here all day long.” She leaned down and began murmuring, “I love you. I missed you, missed every one of your threads. Did you miss me? Let me stroke you for a little while.”
“Are you talking to the sheets, Feather?” Righteous’s voice was rough with sleep.
“It’s important to tell the ones you love how you feel, Ry. If I don’t tell the sheets of Sanctuary how much I love them, they may not be there for me the next time.”
Before I could decide if she was making a joke or deadly earnest, a humming began on the wall near the sealed Well. “What is that?” I wondered aloud, sitting up. In Feather’s sudden thoughts, I saw a combination of images. Bees, earthquakes, and tiny buzzing finger vibrators.
I rolled my eyes and had just stepped one foot out of bed when a blast of power shook the walls of Sanctuary, scattering tools across the floor and knocking me off my feet. As soon as it settled, all three of us sprang out of bed.
“The gate?” Feather asked, grabbing one of the t-shirts she’d made for me weeks before. Pink glitter went flying alongside her own gray smut-sparkles as she moved.
“I can’t tell,” I muttered, throwing on another t-shirt, trousers, and the first robe I found. “Too much noise. Too much fear and confusion.”
“We’re needed,” Righteous declared with wide eyes. “I felt two Protectors”—he choked on the last word—“die.”
I nodded grimly; I’d felt that as well. “They didn’t die. They were unmade. That was the feeling of a Great Sacrifice.”
“Two,” Righteous corrected, as he pulled his own robe on.
Someone pounded on the door. “Maker!”
I reached out with my mind. It was Perception. His thoughts were wild, so frenzied as to be nonsensical. He was worried about the gate opening, and someone coming in—for a moment, I thought he meant the Abyss. But then his thoughts coalesced.
The gate was already open, and someone incredibly powerful—and unknown—had just entered Sanctuary. Only one individual, but he couldn’t tell who it was. Or what their intentions might be. Their presence was masked somehow.
Could it be Rafe? Had he found a way back through the gate?
My heart constricted. Feather believed that Rafe was good, but I’d seen his physical self in her eyes.
Had he somehow used Feather to make a weakness in the boundary between Sanctuary and the Abyss, and slipped inside while we were all distracted?
He could be coming in to destroy us… or to be with Feather. I sent a prayer to the Maker of All, that whoever it was, they were here with good intentions.
Another smaller shock wave rippled through the workshop, the Well humming again in response. I didn’t know why it was doing that, or what might be happening inside the Well to cause it to vibrate, but something about the sound raised my hackles. Our first priority now, though, was the open gate.
At my side, Feather staggered as we crossed the floor.
I felt a moment of guilt for having taken her so many times in the night, not letting her rest, but she smacked me on the ass and hissed, just as I opened the main door, “No take-backs on make-up sex. Also, you’re the one who’s tired, old man.
Don’t be blaming your creaky joints on your young, hot wife. ”
“You make jokes when you’re nervous, don’t you?
” Perception said, as he stepped inside my Hall and grabbed her hand.
Both Righteous and I bristled, and he backed away.
“Sorry, just… I’m afraid. Heart and Glory, they…
they came to the gate when I was singing.
They couldn’t bear the pain anymore. They sang their names and entered the gate.
High Angelus, they were talking to someone right before they went in, though there was no one there.
” He frowned. “I would say they were flirting, but that’s not possible. ”
“That gate is hella sexy,” Feather said, as Righteous swooped her into his arms. “If I could figure out a way to add him to my harem, I totally would. And the sheets.”
Her humor—I hoped it was humor, at least—lightened the weight on my heart.
But I still flew as fast as possible to the gate.
To the scene of the unmaking of two of Sanctuary’s finest souls.
Righteous had shared what had happened to them, and I’d sent that thought to Gavriel at the very moment he’d been questioning Tradition, who truly had not known of the actions of their Guides.
Gavriel’s mental reply had been stricken, full of self-loathing and outrage. They were all corrupted, Mik. They used Tradition to give a facade of acceptability to their sins. How did it happen so fast? How did I not see?
I’d heard stray thoughts about scrolls he’d signed without reading the full contents, where Guides had taken harsh rules and made them harsher, or assigned more power to them than they were ever meant to wield.
And conversations he’d put off. Reports and hints from Protectors like Merry and Hope that something was going very wrong with the power dynamics of the realm.
Incremental, slow, insidious changes. It reminded me of the way the shadows had been deepening on Earth over the years, tilting the balance inexorably to their side.
Sanctuary would have been doomed, if not for my little mate.
Where are Sunny and Precious? Feather thought as we neared the final corner. Are they safe?
I didn’t have time to check mentally, as I rounded the last corner and descended.
There was already a crowd gathered, but Sunny and Precious were nowhere to be seen.
Gavriel was there, though, and Tradition, and…
all the Head Guides. They were clustered near, but not touching, a figure that glowed so brightly, it hurt to look at them.
Righteous set Feather down gently, but stood partially in front of her, in between her and the unknown.
“Mikhail! Is that you? By the Light, you look terrible!” The words were more sung than spoken, and the figure moved toward me, the crowd parting to stay out of range. As they grew nearer, I felt the heat that radiated off their body. I squinted, trying to make out who it was.
“Is that… Haneul?” My heart raced, and I found my feet running toward her. I had never thought to see her again. I stopped before I reached her, blinking against the brilliance she emanated. “Haneul, what are you— How did you— I never thought I’d see you again!”
Haneul had ascended without a mate, four thousand years ago.
She had been my favorite teacher in school, Gavriel’s eventual mentor.
I’d had a ridiculous crush on her, but she had never even thought about merging with me…
or anyone. She’d happily flown through the gate and gone to the Celestial Realm on her own. I’d missed her.