Chapter 4 #3
Her soul was magnificent. Brilliant, like a supernova.
I had never seen such power and resilience, except in the other First Children.
But she was not my sister. I reached out with tendrils of divine perception, and could sense the touch of two souls on her that I had known in Sanctuary.
Mikhail and one other. Azazel? But there was another presence in some parts of her, a feminine one.
Almost intermingled with her own brand-new soul.
Who are you? I thought.
She didn’t answer, but the music of her every particle was repeating versions of that same question. Who am I? Do you know who I am? Am I yours? Are you mine?
Can you tell me who I am?
The shadows pulled at her soul, and her silver light sputtered for a moment. I sent out a pulse of my own power to frighten them away, but they would not retreat, sending the understanding to me that they had earned this meal. My gaze fell to the hoof pick in her hand, and I tasted bile.
She had committed a murder, fully understanding the consequences. And though human children were never consigned to that fate, she possessed an angelic soul. So she was doomed to be consumed and taken to the Abyss.
“What have you done, little one?”
Her chin wobbled, then firmed. So brave. “I t-tried to save her.”
My heart ached. “And yet you did not. She was already gone when you killed the man. You know what that means?”
Fear filled her small face as she nodded slightly. “I don’t care. It would have been a worse Hell to live, knowing I’d been a coward. That I hadn’t tried.”
I knew her words to be foolish, but her bravery threatened to reduce me to tears. Useless tears. I’d cried for centuries, and no one had heard me.
No one had come to save me.
I almost left the stable. I had already turned away, when the bodice of her summer dress slipped to one side, and a part of her bony chest was revealed.
Sweet Maker, what was that? I raced to her, blasting the shadows away with a surge of my twisted soulfire, and lifted her in my hands. “It’s not possible,” I whispered as I felt our connection. But the proof of what had called me here, to her, was before my eyes.
The feather I had sent through the Well of Souls—my last plea for help before I succumbed to despair—lay embedded in the center of her chest. Gavriel’s feather, that he had given to me as a final gift.
It pulsed and gleamed, and I felt the gossamer thin thread of my own soul that I’d attached to it like a kite string, the merest whisper of my innermost self that I could draw out, humming the first notes of the song I’d sent.
The hymn of salvation. I knew, if Gavriel heard it, he would know what I was asking.
For him to storm the Abyss and pull me out. Use the power and might of Sanctuary as the weapon it could be, and free me from my prison.
How had that feather become inextricably melded with this young soul’s essence? I examined it closely, slowing time so she would not perish, and so the shadows would not approach while I pondered.
This small child, with no knowledge of her own importance, her role, could not be Gavriel’s soulmate. But she was. Which meant he would come for her. Soon. Gavriel Lightbearer would never let his fated love perish on Earth.
But he might not come in time, I realized. Already, the shadows were tearing through my power. They had the right of it. Her soul belonged to them; the imbalance insisted on correcting itself. I had to save her. Had to do something.
I stared at my hands, at the smutty shadows roiling beneath the skin, the sins I’d taken into my own being in an attempt to heal the Abyss, before I understood what needed healing wasn’t inside that void. Or not only there.
The imbalance had changed my form, as the sins of lust and greed, pride and avarice, sloth and wrath and envy created a foul coating that became a second skin, flexible but inhabited by fragments of suffering souls.
Moving shapes under my skin, faces crying out in horror.
I could hear them if I listened, though I usually chose not to.
My surface covered, it had gone on to add protrusions: horns, a tail, claws, even a hideous, forked tongue.
I had become a part of the Abyss itself.
The child’s soul in my hands sputtered, flickered. Flared one last time. The answer was there, in my skin. It was abhorrent to me, though. To allow one so fragile, a soul so bright, to be damaged in this way.
I would bear it if I could. I had taken on far worse. But the imbalance was already attached to her soul, and she had one foot in the Abyss. I studied the smut that was already weaving its tendrils into her spirit, dimming her inner light.
There was one way her soul could remain intact and unblemished, by surviving inside a shell of violation and misery. It was the same path I had discovered, centuries ago, using the power of the Great Sacrifice.
The only way to keep her light from succumbing to evil would be if she chose not only to take on the burden of the murder she had committed, but to make a sacrifice at the same moment, and take on the imbalance of the man’s crimes as well.
The flare of the selfless act would repel the shadows. Her body would perish, but her soul would remain. I could hold her together in the void, remake her if necessary, as long as the core of her light stayed unchanged. I had been a gifted Maker once, after all. I had created Sanctuary.
I could do it, keep her from being unmade by the pain, but the cost to my own reserves would be punishing. I wouldn’t be able to watch over her on Earth once I’d used my power to heal her. But I could send her back, and surely Gavriel would find her soon, before she had to suffer again.
Perhaps he would even feel her suffering now, and rescue her… rescue us both. Please, Mother, let him save us.
“Little Sacrifice, do you want to live? To protect others like your sister?” I asked, feeling sick as the child nodded earnestly.
When it was done, and she was weeping from the agony of taking the imbalance into herself, I held her on my lap, sang the first lullaby I’d ever written, and waited for Gavriel.
“But you never came.” A muddy tear slid down Rafe’s ruined face.
“Not that time, or the next, or the dozens afterward. For centuries, I had to watch her die, over and over. Coax her to take on more smut than should have been possible. Comfort and heal her in the void, and use my last scraps of strength to push her back into the only realm I could, with the gate here left uncared for. I burned with shame, but she did it cheerfully, spinning pretty lies for herself that she was some kind of superhero. When all she was, was… what did you call her? Oh yes. Trash.” His grip grew less tight, as if his strength was being drained.
I shook my head. “She was never that. When she went to the Celestial Realm with Mik and Righteous, she—”
He hissed, that strange forked tongue darting out as if to taste the air. “What did you say?”
“A Celestial Messenger got through at last. Haneul. She took Feather, her mate… her other mates. They left only hours ago.”
He bared his teeth. “You’re certain she’s alive?”
I met his gaze. “She was. She could still be.”
“Fuck,” he said flatly, and dropped me. He leaned against the wall, one of his batlike wings extending the width of the hallway.
“Gavriel, you idiot. She can’t be apart from you.
She’ll—” His words were interrupted by a loud buzzing that came from somewhere else in Sanctuary. We both turned, focusing on the sound.
“The Maker Hall,” I murmured. “Something’s wrong. Something’s coming.”
Rafe cursed again, violently, as he scooped up the Celestial sword and ran for the stairs, with me a few feet behind. “Yes, what’s about to be inside the Maker Hall should concern you.”
I understood immediately. “The Well of Souls. The Abyss is breaking in.”
“I managed to get a feather through. They may have discovered the same flaw.”
“How?”
He spat a word of power at the door, and it opened immediately. “They’ve been working on finding a way in here for a long time. Revel’s been holding fast, even with no help from you.”
For a moment, I wondered what he meant about Revel.
I knew from my reading of ancient texts that he’d had a brother with that name, but not where he was now.
The Abyss, perhaps? “Tell me how bad I was at your job later,” I answered angrily, though a part of me was rejoicing.
Rafe was here. He would fix things. He always had.
Still, he was so changed. Could I trust him?
“Did you help the Abyss find the way in?”
“Through the Well?” He sneered at me, extending his wings again.
I heard screams in distant hallways. “I didn’t stop them.
To be honest, when I felt her die—or leave—I didn’t think.
I just wanted to get to you. Get to the ones who’d hurt my little one.
I knew the shadows would find a way eventually, though I thought they’d take longer to get through.
” Something in my gaze must have revealed my mistrust because he sighed heavily.
“Gav, I knew about the weak spot under the cells. I’ve hidden it from the shadows, distracted them from it, for millennia.
You can’t think I wanted them to devour Sanctuary, can you? ”
“Not with Feather inside,” I replied softly. “Go, and I’ll follow on foot. The Hall will open for you. You made it, after all.”
He hovered in midair. “Where the fuck are you going?” I extended my wings, and saw his features distort for a split second, as mine must have when I first saw him. “You can’t fly? What happened to your wings, Gav?”
I shrugged. “I had to make a few sacrifices.”
“For whom?”
I smiled, remembering. “For Feather’s baby.”
“Her what?” His voice, the most perfect natural instrument the Maker of All had ever created, broke like a teenage boy’s.
“Hers and Mikhail’s,” I said, truth ringing in my words.
He grabbed my shoulders and plunged his mind into mine, raging through my memories like a hurricane.
This time, I let him. He was moving so fast it was excruciating, almost as painful as the loss of my soulmate.
But also glorious, since I was able to see Feather again with every memory he exposed.
It was almost like having her here with me.
When he reached the moment I discovered Precious on Earth, and then when I learned of her parentage, I almost laughed at his dumbfounded expression.
Almost. The hallway was now filled with the sound of a million angry hornets, and Rafe took off. I ran behind, sending a quick mental message to Perception about what was happening in the Maker Hall. Is Arabella safe? I thought.
Perception’s thoughts showed me that she was. In fact, the power he’d seen her use to communicate with the gate was terrifyingly strong. Should I leave her and help the others?
I vacillated for a moment, but the desperate cries of Protectors drew my attention.
They needed leadership, and Perception was the only other High Angelus in residence.
Yes, go. I’ll make sure Arabella’s safe.
You protect the younger ones, then take a group you trust and do a complete inspection of the realm, room by room, if necessary.
Look for weak spots. The Abyss is too close.
Then I ran as fast as I could up the stairs to the main level of the realm and toward the Maker Hall, wondering what Rafe and I would find in our realm’s most sacred space.