Chapter 18 Feather #2
The ceilings were low, and white gauzy fabric hung in billows and waves all over the ceiling, with tiny sparkles of light—or perhaps glitter—caught in the cloth.
But that was almost the only white in the room.
Unlike the rest of Sanctuary, which had always seemed boring and sterile to me, this room was an explosion of color.
The walls were lavender and purple, rich shades that I recognized immediately.
They were taken from Precious’s hair, and the silver stars scattered across all four walls brought her galaxy eyes to mind.
There were two small sofas with plush, multi-colored cushions, and a table with rounded edges nearby. A box sat on top of the table, and a bed—at least as big as the one I’d had in my own room in this realm—occupied the corner beyond it.
In the other corner was something completely unexpected. I swallowed hard, walking toward it. The shining, golden crib was the perfect size for a baby, filled with jewel-toned pillows and blankets that any tot would love flinging over the spindled bars.
Above the crib, though, was what had caught my eye. What had my mind flailing, trying to understand what and when, and how, and why… I reached out with one hand and tapped the mobile lightly, sending it into motion.
The six small, golden feathers threw light all around the room, and as I watched, the pools of light became children’s stories: cats and fiddles, a boy climbing a beanstalk, a bird dropping stones in a jar, a lion curled up with a mouse, and so many more.
They were beautiful, but the power emanating from all six feathers, casting a circle of complete protection over the crib, was also familiar.
“Gav? Are these feathers…” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting when he extended one wing, and I saw a missing patch, the skin raw and golden-pink where they had been. The pain had to have been incredible. And Precious had never seen it.
None of us had known about it, until now. My mind spun like I was on a merry-go-round, about to fly off into a new reality, where Gavriel was a completely different man. My heart ached.
I had thought, before I left Sanctuary, that he didn’t care for her.
For crying out loud, all of us had assumed he was going to kill her at the Guides’ urging.
Sunny had stepped in and vowed on her wings to “take care” of Precious, in order to protect the baby from Gavriel.
When all along, he’d been making this space for her.
Sacrificing himself so she would have a room of her own.
A room that practically shouted his love for her.
He had been cruel to me, I knew that. But maybe I had been too quick to judge him as well. To see him as the one at fault.
“I wish she could have played here, even once,” he rasped. “I think she would have loved it.”
“She would have,” I told him, forcing myself not to cry.
I turned to face him, flinching at the pain in his gaze.
But this was no time for emotions; these two were on the cusp of death.
I reached down to grab the cords of Sanctuary’s fire, hoping Gavriel could show me how to use it to heal his and Rumple’s wounds.
But the realm was… absent? No, muffled. I couldn’t reach it.
It was almost as if… “Is this like a pocket realm or something?” I wondered aloud.
“Yes,” Gavriel said. “Nothing can reach us here. We’re safe for… for as long as we need.”
Safe, but cut off.
“Gavriel, I need to heal you, but I can’t reach Sanctuary.
We don’t have food or water, or…” By the time I’d stopped speaking, he’d laid Rumple down on one of the sofas and crossed to the table, pulling the box toward him.
He reached inside and withdrew a handful of grapes, then what looked like amber glass cups of liquid, and finally a loaf of bread and two dozen cheese cubes.
“What, no chocolate?” I joked, wondering what sort of magic this was.
Not looking at me, Gavriel smiled and reached back into the box. He opened his palm toward me, revealing a handful of chocolate truffles. “Do you really think I would forget the chocolate, Feather?”
“I-I don’t know,” I stammered. I felt like we were in a snow globe, and all my expectations and assumptions had been turned on their heads. Who was this gentle, thoughtful Gavriel? “I don’t really know you, do I?”
I didn’t mean to hurt him, but he flinched. “No. And that’s my fault.” He grabbed one of the juice goblets and moved to Rumple, breaking what looked like a clear seal and pressing it to Rumple’s lips. “Drink, my brother. It will heal you.”
“Little one… first,” Rumple whispered, as juice spilled down his face.
I rushed to his side and took the cup from Gavriel. “I’ll drink if you do, Rumple.”
For a long while, we did just that, me feeding sips of juice into his mouth and then my own. When we ran out, Gavriel would hand me another goblet. He ate at the same time, and fed a few pieces of cheese and chocolate between my lips.
Him feeding me felt incredibly intimate. Not sexual, but there was some of the same sort of vulnerability in the air as he offered, and I took what he gave me. My focus was mainly on Rumple. He was still breathing, so that was good. But nothing else about him was remotely okay.
In the Abyss, I’d felt his skin. He’d been warm and well-muscled, not rough-scaled and covered with thick, hardened smut like this.
In the void, he had felt soft to the touch, though textured.
His wings had been almost transparent. Now he was a terrifying, enormous gargoyle.
I let my eyes take in all of his frightening parts: the horns, the ruined, batlike wings, the tail.
When he drank, I saw the tip of a dark gray, forked tongue.
He had said he was a monster, and he was one, by almost any measure.
He’d just finished another juice when he lapsed into sleep.
I was sitting next to him, more or less perched on the arm of the sofa, since Rumple was massive and took up what should have fit two.
I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, frowning when I realized it was blood soaked.
Before I could ask, Gavriel was handing me a wet cloth to clean him.
I thanked him and began wiping the blood away.
But I couldn’t remove any of the hardened coating, not even with my tears.
It wasn’t like the smut I’d worn; this was some sort of armor.
“He wasn’t like this in the Abyss,” I whispered, when Gavriel settled on the other sofa, wiping at his own wounds. “His skin had a normal texture, and his wings were almost transparent.”
“He had crystal feathers, once,” Gavriel said softly. “Fringed with gold on the trailing edges. They were so beautiful, unique among all our kind.”
Rumple’s wings now were so clumped with thick smut, I wasn’t sure if any feathers underneath would remain intact.
“I don’t know how to get rid of this… shell.
But I can tell it’s not good for him. It’s weighing him down.
” No matter how hard I pressed the cloth, all I could do was wipe the surface blood away.
He had to have deeper wounds that were affecting him, but I couldn’t get to them.
“Maybe this protected him?” I voiced my hope out loud.
Gavriel nodded. “He told me he wrapped it around himself so the edges of the rift he made to get inside Sanctuary wouldn’t cut him. He thinks the shadow creature watched him do that, and learned. They’re really all individual souls, but they’re drawn together by—”
“Their hunger,” I finished for him, moving toward the box. My own energy was flagging again, and I had to think what else I could do for Rumple. Some other method of cleaning. I was good at cleaning.
But first, food. I reached inside the box, thinking of custard, and pulled out… “Yogurt? Ugh.”
Gavriel smiled. “I wove a few rules into the box, since I thought Precious might abuse it, once she knew she could get whatever she needed from it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “She makes her own marshmallows, Gav. They’re literally all she eats. She’s not a real baby.”
He shrugged. “We don’t know if that will last. I have a theory that she’s creating them out of the smut she’s collected. If she’s kept away from Earth and the people she’s drawn to, um…”
“Murder?”
“Yeah, that. She might eventually be purified.” He looked around the room. “I thought others might choose to stay here with her as well, in this safe space, while we prepared the rest of Sanctuary to accept her presence.”
“Well, we don’t have that problem anymore,” I said, sticking a finger into the yogurt.
It actually tasted good, nothing like the Tibetan stuff I’d eaten long ago.
Yak yogurt had a smell that was unforgettable, and had put me off the whole food sub-group completely.
I stuck a finger into the small pot and licked the glob off, then repeated the motion. It really wasn’t half bad.
Gav let out a soft groan.
I sucked my finger clean. “What? Oh crud, I forgot your back is messed up. Let me clean your wounds while Rumple sleeps.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly. “Do you have any wounds?”
“No. And I do have to help you, right? We’re apparently soulmates. Neat.” I grinned weakly, and gave him a yogurt-covered thumbs up.
He lifted one eyebrow in that superior way that he had, and for the first time, I was happy to see it. If he could do silent snark, he would be all right.
I jumped up, grabbing a clean cloth. “Wait, is this a diaper?”
Gav blushed. “Possibly.”
“Why? You know she doesn’t need diapers.”
He shrugged, dropping his eyes. “I read a book that said clean diapers are very useful in a nursery. For burp cloths and cleaning rags, and even…” He trailed off.
“You read a baby book for Precious?” I was so choked up, I didn’t know if I could speak. For some reason, this was almost more than seeing the room.
“No,” he answered, rubbing his face like he was embarrassed. “I read a lot more than one.”