Chapter 36 #2
They hadn’t known Castor like she had. They hadn’t lived with him for an aeon, crammed into this very room, being a butt for his jokes and a hand for his labors and a bauble for his finger and a toy for his pleasure.
He hadn’t deserved to get snuffed out of existence.
He hadn’t been that bad of an angel. But he hadn’t been good.
Not to her. She didn’t know what to do with that, so she sat on the bed, taking in the home that had been her cage.
Suddenly, the front door creaked, then swung open, and Beni stood on the other side of the doorway, blinking at Lila in surprise.
She stared at him with an equal amount of shock, not having seen him since…since they were in the courtyard, with Castor’s dead body between them.
“What the fuck, Lila?” Beni snapped, his expression souring.
Lila rose from the bed.
“I’m sorry?”
“You ought to be.”
Lila frowned, taken aback by his tone. In all the time she’d known him, which was basically his whole existence, he’d never once snapped at her. He never snapped at anyone.
“I ought to be what?” she asked, careful and even.
“Dead,” he spat. “Lost. Gone. Whatever it is they’re calling it. What the fuck, Lila? You were supposed to take care of him, and now he’s…” Beni clenched his fists; his chest heaved. The pain in his eyes mirrored Eva’s, and Lila glanced at Castor’s cloak on the bed.
Abruptly, she understood. Beni had been coming there. Maybe he’d been sleeping there. That was why Castor’s things were strewn about in a manner he never would have left them in.
“You loved him,” Lila mumbled, a thought that had always tugged at her breaking free.
“Well, somebody had to.”
“That’s not fair. I took care of Castor every moment of my existence.”
“Yeah, and you despised every moment of it.”
Lila flushed, hating that she’d been that obvious, but not quite apologetic.
“Does that matter now? Is this really what you want to talk about?” Heading for the door, she tried to squeeze past the wall of Beni’s body. “Look, I’ll leave you to—”
“Fuck you, Lila.” Beni lowered his face to hers and seethed, “You’re a fucked up angel.” His brown eyes bore into hers, accusing her of everything she’d been accusing herself of since the beginning of her beginning.
Lila glared right back, and for once, she hated what she saw.
She liked Beni. She’d always considered him a friend, even if he couldn’t see Castor for what he truly was. But Beni didn’t understand what it was like to be her. None of the other angels did, and yet, they dared to judge her. How dare they tell her she was wrong, and weird, and fucked up.
How dare they tell her she should be dead.
“Fuck you,” she breathed, and Beni’s scowl deepened.
“Come again?” His tone made her flinch—she’d never seen him so angry—but she stood her ground. Forcing herself to hold his gaze, she stared her guilt in the face.
“Whatever Castor was to you,” she began, her voice shaky but audible enough, “however he was when he was with you…he wasn’t that for me.
Castor always wanted to break me, and he couldn’t.
And he couldn’t stand it. I’m sorry you’re hurting”—Lila stepped back from the door—“but this is my house.” She swallowed, stuffing her hands in her robe pockets.
Finding Luc’s architect pin at the bottom of one pocket, she pressed its needle point into her palm. “Get out of my house,” she ordered.
Beni took a step forward, as if to physically defy her, and she stepped back again, instinctively this time.
The backs of her knees hit the bed, and there was something familiar about the way he stood in the doorway.
She froze, waiting for him to advance further.
Waiting to be thrown onto her back. Her heart beat rapidly in her throat.
But Beni stopped right there. He held her in his gaze, evaluating.
Could he see it in her face—how small she’d had to make herself to avoid being crushed?
At once, he turned and left, and the door slammed in his wake.
Afterward—for a long, silent moment—Lila stared at the space where his body had been.
Where Castor’s body had been. Where hers had been.
Knees on the floor. Braid twisted till her scalp ached.
The fabric of Castor’s robes brushing her cheek.
She walked up to the door, pressed her hand to its oiled finish. Then she dropped to her knees and screamed.
It felt good, so she screamed again, and again and again, clutching her head in her hands.
Bent over, bowed to the marble, her forehead pressed to its cool surface.
She screamed until she’d emptied herself, until the ocean of shame and grief threatening to swallow her felt less consuming.
Until she could breathe in relief instead of choking on anger.
Gradually, she became aware of her surroundings and sat up. The door was before her, the room behind her. It had felt good to hear her own voice, even if all she could manage was a mindless cry of exhaustion. It had felt good to feel something, to do something. Anything.
All around her, angels had been doing things. Bad things, or foolish things, but things. While Lila had been stuck in the fate allotted to her, as though she’d been set there in stone.
When had she become so convinced of her own powerlessness?
Was it when she’d been told she couldn’t be an architect?
Or later, when she’d fallen for Luc and had realized she couldn’t have him either?
Or later, when she’d realized even her body didn’t belong to her?
Or had it been more gradual than that, bitterness seeping into her bones until indifference was all she could feel?
Did it matter? The door was before her; the room was behind her; she only needed to move.
Digging into her pocket, Lila pulled out Luc’s pin. She smoothed her finger over it, remembering the awful things she’d said to him in her pain.
She should have said, I’ve always regretted the way I ended things between us.
She should have said, You gave me the only happiness I have ever known. You couldn’t save me from my fate, but I’ve survived on memories of you all this time.
Now she whispered, “I will no longer be second to anyone. Not even you. But I will find you. I will bring you back. You. And Adrianna. I know you’re out there because…you’re Luc. You’re larger than everything. Even the Council. Even the Void. Even Death. You always were.”
With trembling fingers, Lila removed her carpentry pin from her collar and stuck the architect pin in its place. Then she got up, and walked out, and shut the door behind her.
Lila made her way to the southeast edge of the Void, where the rebel angels had been cast out. If she saw the exact spot where they’d disappeared, maybe she would find some hint of what had happened to them.
The obelisk stood intact, and as she approached, she nearly saw Luc there, gesturing to the Void like it was his playground. Only she couldn’t see the Void itself. The shimmering gold barrier had thickened to opaqueness; it swirled like liquid gold, flowing yet solid enough.
There were guards in the stone watchtowers now, but their sharp gazes glanced off her.
She was no one of consequence. Nonetheless, she slowed as she reached the obelisk, trying to glimpse the Void behind the barrier.
Even at such a close distance, she couldn’t see the Void at all. How was that possible?
Lila approached the rippling wall, holding out her palm as she’d done before. A guard shouted at her, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t want to go through the barrier, but she needed to touch it, to find out what it was made of. Why it looked different.
A distressed wail from further along the wall sent her stumbling backward, and she spun, searching for the source of the cry.
She turned just in time to see an angel hurtling through the aether, blasted back by the wall. His body slammed into the marble platform, and he lay there groaning until two warrior angels heaved him to his feet.
“Wait, no!” He struggled against them. “Let me out! I have to get out!” he protested as the warriors gripped his arms and wrenched him backward. They were words she might have spoken once. A chill ran down her spine when she heard them come from someone else’s mouth.
Another pair of warriors approached Lila; they commanded her to step away from the barrier, and suddenly, she understood.
Luc could not return. No threat could enter Heaven. But most of all, no one could leave.
Stupidly, the brutal truth reminded her of Luc’s offer the last time they’d spoken: If you don’t like this world, I’ll build a new one. I’ll build it so far away that no one will ever find it. I’ll build it so that no one can cross over from here to there, even if they want to.