Chapter 13
Thirteen
Lilith
I stared at my sister, still unable to believe my eyes. “Is it really you?” Elation churned inside me, though in the back of my mind confusion rumbled, too. My sister didn’t look anything like I remembered.
“Yes.” That nose wrinkle, that crooked smile, though, I remembered that.
Why didn’t you come back? Why did you wash your hands of me? I wanted to ask. But I couldn’t.
“Have you…have you left the Church of the Love of His Divine Saints?”
I shook my head. “I’m running a message for one of the elders.” I took a breath. “Why don’t you come back for a visit? Mother would welcome you. We’ve had hard times lately, and I’d be happy to bring you for a little—”
But a head shake cut me off. “I can’t.” The pained expression made my own stomach clench.
“Why?” I demanded, a thread of anger leaking through now the shock was wearing off. “Why won’t you?”
“I can’t. I can never return.”
I stilled. “What does that mean?”
My sister sighed. “Do you remember what it was like, right before I was asked to leave?”
I shook my head. “Asked to leave? I thought you were tired of arguing with Mother and Father and ran away.”
“That’s not quite true.” The words came sharp and annoyed. “They told me to obey or leave. And I was so tired of the prayer closet. I’d prayed enough my knees ached.”
I tried to remember the details. Mostly, I remembered curling up in bed, trying to block out the sounds of yelling downstairs, of cold breakfasts the next morning, of seeing my sister miserable and angry all the time.
“I know you didn’t like the dresses Mother made you wear,” I said slowly.
“And Reverend Grimshaw—the second one—warned our parents how much time you were spending with boys.”
A nod. “But what was the final issue, what truly ended things, was that I refused to, well, conform to their expectations. I didn’t want to marry and settle down to raise babies. I didn’t want to wear dresses and be called miss and mistress for the rest of my life.”
I blinked and took another step backward. My eyes roved my sister’s face, noticing now the cropped hair, the men’s trousers under the cloak, the masculine necktie. “You…you didn’t want to be a woman,” I realized.
They shrugged. “Not exactly. I was also interested in studying courses through the temple of Saras, which our parents would never have allowed. Our family worships Lord Erlik and no other.”
I grimaced. That was certainly true. “They forced you out?” My voice came out more shrill than I meant. “I can’t…How could…” My words trailed off as I saw the pain etched across my sister’s face. “I’m sorry. I wish you had told me.”
“Did you really think I died?” The voice was small and sad, so unlike the sibling I remembered.
My eyes filled with tears and I nodded. “That’s what they said always happened to girls by themselves in the city.” Before I could receive a response, my thoughts flitted to the next thing. “You are…neither a man nor a woman?”
A slow nod came. “I consider myself somewhere in the middle. A third gender, as many call it. I go by Jo now.”
I stared at Jo. “I’ll have to get used to that.” I gave a weak laugh. “If we are able to see one another again.”
They sighed and gave me a tired smile. “I hope so. The first few years were difficult. I didn’t have any skills for a job, and being a young woman alone on the streets is dangerous. The elders weren’t completely lying. After the second night I spent on the street—”
I shuddered at the thought of them alone like that.
“—I went to one of the larger churches for Erlik. We’ve been taught these larger, more established churches are lukewarm worshippers of Erlik and not to be trusted.
But I was hungry and tired and cold. Lilith, they were so kind to me.
Gave me everything I needed and found me a charity boarding house.
Then I found a job, joined the Temple of Saras, and enrolled in some classes. ”
Saras, daughter of Erlik, was the goddess of knowledge and humanities. All universities and schools were dedicated to her, and most physicians prayed to her. I didn’t know the temples offered classes to people like Jo—homeless, penniless, and struggling to survive.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, the relief that Jo hadn’t starved or been killed in a back alley making my knees weak. “What are you doing now?”
Jo spread their arms as if to show me what they wore. “I just finished work. I’m a clerk for an ecclesiastical judge.”
My eyes widened. “They let women do that?” I blushed. “Err, I’m sorry, I mean…people who are not men?”
Jo laughed, and I was grateful I hadn’t hurt their feelings.
“It is unusual, but this judge works within the Temple of Saras, and because we all worship a goddess, we are more free with what women can do. And Saras recognizes people like me, of the third gender.” They paused, then added with a shy smile, “I’m happy, Lilith.
Besides missing you and Absalom, I’m truly happy with this life. ”
I winced at the reference to Absalom. I would tell them, but not right now. They deserved to find out in a better place than a street corner after work.
Their smile grew. “It’s all the things I would have hoped for as a child, if I’d known it existed.”
My eyes brimmed with tears. “Then I’m happy for you.” It still hurt, though, to know my sister had been kept from me, cut off from family, and I’d been left in the dark, assuming Jo had died.
Jo wrapped me in another embrace. “I’ll always be your sister.”
Relief swamped me at those words. “Truly?” I blinked rapidly, my chin tucked over their shoulder, my hands around their waist.
They squeezed. “We’ll always be sisters.”
In the distance a clock chimed.
I jumped, reluctantly pulling away. “Oh my goodness. It’s so late. I have to hurry back before anyone misses me.”
Job’s brow wrinkled as if they were concerned for me, and then their gaze snagged on Castiel behind me. Truth be told, I’d forgotten he was there. “Who is that?” they asked in a low voice.
I turned in time to see Castiel gracefully step forward. The cloak looked ridiculous, but the night was dark enough and the fabric black enough that maybe I was the only one who noticed.
“I am Castiel, a friend of Lilith’s.”
Jo looked at me, frowning.
“It’s fine,” I assured quietly. “He’s visiting the church, but only for a short while.” I ignored the pain piercing my heart at my own words. “I’m helping him find a book. Then everything will be normal again.”
“Are the elders treating you well? Are you married?”
I shook my head. “Not married. The elders have me assist them with meetings, so I get to do things many of the other women never get the chance to do.”
Castiel cleared his throat, and I understood what he was reluctantly trying to tell me.
I squeezed Jo’s hands, backing away slowly. “I need to go.”
Jo nodded, their eyes dimming. “I understand.”
“May I see you again?” I stifled the urge to awkwardly laugh, not sure how to navigate this conversation. We used to be so close, and now we were almost strangers. I hated it. “I have so much to catch you up on.”
Jo’s lips tugged into a lopsided smile. “I insist on it. Come to the temple here and ask for me as soon as you can. I’d love to spend more time with you.” They pointed to the building behind them.
“Thank you.” I waved, feeling a little ridiculous.
“I love you,” Jo blurted, their hands clasped together.
I smiled, my heart feeling lighter than it had in over a decade. “I love you, too.”
I was silent the rest of the walk back to the neighborhood. Castiel dropped down to walk beside me for a few minutes. He asked a few questions, trying to engage me in conversation, but my mind was elsewhere.
Eventually he seemed to understand I needed quiet to sort through what had just happened. He gave my hand a squeeze and walked beside me the rest of the way home. It didn’t even occur to me until we’d reached the neighborhood how unusual that was—for both of us.
I wiped my eyes in case any tears remained. “You didn’t have to walk with me. I’m fine.”
Castiel paused, turning to look at me.
Surprise, I stopped, too, and looked up.
“Cirra,” he murmured quietly, “of course I would walk with you. If that happened to me, I’d need a friend beside me.”
I swallowed. “Th-thank you,” I got out, annoyed I was thanking him and annoyed I was annoyed.
He smirked at me, and some of our usual dynamic returned. I sighed with relief. He was worming his way into my heart far too quickly. And tonight had been too much. I could scarcely believe I’d actually seen my sister alive and well.
As if reading my thoughts, Castiel murmured, “You’re still in shock, Lily.”
I was too tired to deny it. Somewhere, deep below the surface, I knew I was angry, too.
It just hadn’t boiled over yet. No, I couldn’t.
It was too much to sort through tonight.
I started walking down the lane again, coming up to the church on our right and my house a little farther down on the left.
The thought of going home and seeing my mother made a void open up in my stomach.
I couldn’t do it. My feet weren’t going to let me.
I’d never felt more distant from her in my entire life—since Absalom’s death, since finding out about Jo tonight.
I couldn’t stand the idea of walking in and pretending everything was normal.
But I also didn’t have the energy to confront her.
And what good would that do? I understood the reasons for everything she had done. I knew she wouldn’t apologize, either. No, I couldn’t handle any of this.
My face crumpled, and I slapped my hands over it before I burst into an ugly mess of tears and splotchy cheeks.
“Oh, cirra,” Castiel murmured, his voice as soft as the rushing of wings. “Come here.”
And I didn’t know exactly what happened next. I didn’t know if I moved or he moved. Our bodies drew together like magnets, and suddenly I was in his arms, his hands on my back and under my knees, and he lifted off the ground.
I was too tired to be frightened. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in the heat of his bare skin and squeezed my eyes shut so tears wouldn’t fall.
He didn’t take me far. We landed at the side door of the church, near where his rooms sat.
I tried to slide down his body, embarrassed at my display, but his hands tightened, making it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.
It felt good, in a way, not being given a choice in the matter. It was messed up, sure, that I didn’t know how to reach out for closeness. Or I needed a seraph to keep me in his arms. But that was a problem for another day.
He somehow managed to open the door and slip inside without being seen.
Now it was dark, everyone was in their homes, and he quietly took me to his room.
Castiel’s breathing wasn’t even labored after the vertical lift with a grown woman in his arms, and he didn’t let me go until he placed me at the edge of his bed.
My face burned with embarrassment. His bed? But he didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was just me. Maybe because of how I’d been raised I saw everything as potential for licentiousness.
Castiel somehow crouched at the edge of the bed, looking up at me with concern in those amber eyes.
I didn’t even know how he managed to bend his wings without pain.
“Lilith.” His hands reached up and clasped mine, clamped together in my lap.
His thumb brushed over the back of my hand. “What can I do?”
“I’m fine,” I sniffled.
The look on his face made clear he didn’t believe that lie.
So I tried again. “I can’t talk about it right now.
” The joy of seeing Jo, the shock of learning they had been living in the same city for years, alive and well, the anger that festered deep down at all the lies…
it was too much. I let my gaze run over him, gratitude welling in my chest. I couldn’t have borne anyone else seeing such a vulnerable moment.
Had I truly known him for a week? Somehow trust had grown between us in such a short time.
When had I gone from wanting to snipe at him to wanting him to kiss me?
Bright red burns marked his chest, marring his perfect golden brown skin.
I gasped and reached out, my fingers hovering a hair’s breadth from his skin. “What is this?”
His jaw tightened, the only indication he was in pain. “It’s nothing. Do not trouble yourself.”
“Did something happen?” I demanded, grateful for the distraction from my own pain.
His eyes fluttered closed, as if he was thinking. When he opened them again, resolve shone in his eyes. “Seraphim have few weaknesses,” he began. “We are stronger, faster than humans. We sense more. But…we are weakened by saltwater.”
I frowned.
“Any saltwater, even human tears, burns our skin.”
I stared, horrified at the thought I had harmed him. “How quickly will you heal?”
He smiled faintly. “Soon. We heal faster. And a few teardrops are nothing, cirra.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered, wishing I could do more.
But Castiel shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
Guilt tugged at me, and I tried to think of something that would make it better. “Here,” I said, pointing. “You’re still wearing the cloak. Let me take it off.”
He stood in one graceful movement, stepping closer and allowing me to touch him.
The cloak had bunched up around his nape and seams had ripped in some places from when he flew with me to the church. He didn’t seem to have noticed, so I quietly took the cloak off and folded it, setting it on the edge of the bed. I didn’t want him to feel bad about that.
With the cloak removed I could see his wings. The brown looked less bronze in the dim light of the room, but still rich with undertones. The feathers look cramped, some of the vanes twisted and bent over one another.
“I didn’t realize the cloak would do this,” I said, latching on to the topic with force. “I’m sorry.” I reached up and put a hand on the part of his folded left wing I could reach. He stilled beneath my touch.