Chapter Nine
Eve
I eyed the old inn suspiciously. It looked like any other posting inn in northern Anglia—two story, timber and gray stone, a stable in the back for horses, and a wide, muddy courtyard entrance for carriages to turn.
Firelight flickered in the thick-paned, warped glass windows.
I had spent last evening worrying over the meeting to come.
My dreams had been a torrid mixture of memories of the Church of the Love of His Divine Saints and his kiss, which sucked my soul right out of me.
I’d never been kissed like that. I hadn’t known kisses could be like that—I’d received one musty, potato-flavored kiss from my betrothed and it had done nothing to me but hope that Zorababel didn’t want relations often.
But Gabriel’s kiss…would haunt my dreams for ages.
This morning I’d told Gabriel I needed supplies from the shop, which was true. He’d grunted, not meeting my eyes. And my heart had sunk into my boots.
I knew the kiss had been a terrible idea. I promised myself it wouldn’t happen again. I regretted it—a little. But knowing that he regretted it stung. Was I too mousy? Too human? Too working class? Let me count the ways I’m below you.
So now here I stood, my breath pluming in the air, shivering in my stockings and boots, gathering the courage to go inside. Who will be there? I didn’t want to see anyone from my home—my past—but some would be preferable to others.
Silence. I would love to see Silence. She was the nearest thing I had to a bosom friend.
Guilt slithered through me, making my ribcage ache. I had to give as little information about Gabriel as possible. Enough to protect me and drag out the timeline for him, but no more.
Taking one last deep breath, I decided to get it over with. I strode across the frozen, muddy ground and shoved the wooden door open.
Smoke, both from cigars and the fire, greeted me.
It was brighter than I’d expected, despite the low, dark beams running along the ceiling and the small windows.
As I stepped further into the room, I scanned the tables and benches for familiar faces.
Behind the bar to my right, a barmaid with graying ringlets escaping her cap popped the tap on a cask and the sweet scent of light ale filled the room.
Someone waved from the back corner, hidden in shadows.
I squinted, and the pale hand waved again.
“Lovejoy! Over here.” The voice was low and sultry, and all too familiar. My heart sank.
Lilith? They sent Lilith? What is happening down there? I squared my shoulders. There was no way the church had allowed a woman to travel by herself. One or two men had to be with her.
I crossed the room, and slowly the people on the bench became clearer.
Lilith Meadows, the prettiest woman in the church, perched on the end of one bench.
She had cornsilk hair in a low bun with braids.
One curl had escaped, dangling on the side of her face like a caress.
She had deep blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a figure men lusted over and women seethed over. Lilith smiled at me, pretty as always.
I’d never known what to make of Lilith, even after fifteen years.
She was by far the most beautiful, and therefore the most desired woman.
She’d gotten special permission plenty of times from the reverend for things most girls wouldn’t be allowed to do, and we all knew it was because she could use those big blue eyes to her advantage.
It made her a prize among men, but I knew that wasn’t always a boon.
She had few, if any, friends among the women because of how the men viewed her. Being the elders’ favorite was a precarious place to be. Still, if she’d been more humble, other women would’ve liked her better.
“Eve Lovejoy.” The man beside her was bent over his ale, broad shoulders filling half the bench. His blue eyes looked more like bruises. His unkempt beard was ginger, but his lanky, greasy hair was dishwasher blond. Lilith’s brother, Absalom Meadows.
Lilith was smart, unfortunately. An undesired trait for women among our church. She must’ve taken the entire family’s intelligence, because Absalom was an absolute idiot. He was nothing better than Zor’s guard dog. Zor must’ve let him off his chain for this journey.
A small figure in a cloak shifted on Absalom’s other side, pulling back the cowl. Silence Bellwether smiled faintly at me, dark shadows under her eyes with black hair braided and flung over one shoulder. I blinked in surprise. “Silence!”
Absalom glanced up from perusing his ale at my words, then reached over and grabbed Silence’s hand that lay in her lap.
My jaw dropped. “Silence?”
“Congratulate my brother, Eve,” Lilith chirped. “He’s just been married.”
My stomach pitched. Silence with Absalom? Disgust flooded my body, and I fought to keep a neutral expression. “Congratulations, Silence. I had no idea you two were courting.”
Regret flashed in Silence’s hazel eyes. “It was quick.”
Absolom belched, smirking at me. “The reverend said it was past time I picked a bride. Got this one. Kinda skinny, but at least she can cook.”
Disgust turned to anger and resolve in a heartbeat. I scowled at him as I dropped into the bench on the opposite side of the table. I wouldn’t be like Silence. I wouldn’t bend under Zorababel’s thumb. I was getting free, one way or another. “I got his note. What do you want?”
Share as little as possible, I reminded myself. They must not have seen Castiel around the edges of the village, or this conversation would be very different. If the village hadn’t told them about Castiel, I wouldn’t either.
Lilith leaned forward, folding her hands on the table, eyes sharp as ever. Silence looked down at her lap. Absalom leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs wide enough that he bumped both his wife and sister.
“The reverend expected you back by now. Or at least some word.” Absalom was slow-witted and mean. I’d watched him drown baby mice as a child.
I shrugged, hiding my nerves. “This takes time.”
“Ask her if it’s even the right person,” Lilith murmured to her brother.
He narrowed his eyes on me. “Is this Mr. Ser even who we’re looking for?”
I didn’t bother addressing Lilith. We all played this game.
Even though I’d only been away for a few weeks, I knew to answer Absalom.
“It is.” I’m sorry, Gabriel. If I told them it wasn’t, Absalom would pack me up and drag me back home this very minute, and I’d lose my one chance of escape.
I had to delicately string them along as long as I could.
Silence gasped. Lilith’s eyes grew wide. Absalom smirked. “Excellent.”
My stomach knotted in disgust—at them and myself.
“Ask her if she has any proof,” Lilith prodded.
“Why would I lie?” I snapped. If Gabriel ever found out what I was doing…I didn’t want to see more sadness in his weighted eyes. But I didn’t know him well enough to trust him to not toss me out. He’d been a captain in an elite military—he wouldn’t have the patience for any human intrigue.
Absalom frowned, and I shifted in my chair. “I’ll need to tell the reverend something more than ‘just trust Eve.’”
I thought of the feather, still in my dress pocket. A necessary evil. Reluctantly, I withdrew it. Gritting my teeth, I twirled it in my hands to let it catch the firelight.
Absalom reached out to grab it, but I was faster. I snatched it back, stuffing it in my pocket.
His hand slapped the table, making Silence and I jump. “Hey.”
“You can’t have it,” I told him, my disgust and my growing freedom making me bold.
“He’d know if it left him,” I lied, though it was clearly weak by the way Lilith raised her brows.
It didn’t feel right, revealing something private and special to them like that.
I’d bought my protection with the information—I hoped—and I would give nothing further.
Lilith and Absalom’s eyes gleamed. “He’s that powerful?”
I nodded, pride blooming in me at my seraph’s might.
“It really is the Angel, the Herald of Death,” Absalom said with glee. His sister still eyed me skeptically, which I couldn’t blame her for.
“I don’t know how much death is involved,” I hedged.
Absalom pointed a thick finger in my face. “Watch yourself. You know not to blaspheme the angels.”
“They’re called Seraphim,” I corrected, feeling wild and dangerous now that I was a housekeeper and Absalom couldn’t call me before the elders for confession or repentance.
“Have you told him about us?” In her excitement, Lilith forgot to field her questions through her brother.
“He knows I come from a different church than the Church of Saras, and we’re tight knit. I haven’t told him how Zor—the reverend, I mean, has been searching for him, or his father before him.”
“Why not?” Absalom demanded.
“What are the reverend’s plans exactly?” I shot back, freedom making me heady.
He scowled. “What’s that matter to you? His plans are from the heavens, and as parishioners you obey. It is your way to prove your devotion.”
I hated that answer. I didn’t believe it anymore, either.
Part of me thought Absalom didn’t know Zorababel’s plans, either.
He certainly wasn’t the smartest elder, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Zorababel kept secrets from him.
But I nodded along. “But when I speak with the seraph, he will have questions. Right now all I can tell him is our church views him as the Herald of Death, and we’re lucky to have a chance to worship him. ”
“That’s all he needs to know,” Absalom said mulishly.
Lilith rolled her eyes, turning her face so her older brother couldn’t see it.
“Eve,” she said in a placating tone. “Explain our ways, our sacred precepts, the myths of Erlik and how he is the most powerful of the four gods. Explain what the reverend’s grandfather saw and how it aligned with his visions.
The angel—seraph—will naturally be curious and seek a meeting with the reverend. ”
“Yes, yes,” I said impatiently. “But we know the reverend wants to bring Gab—the seraph into the fold, to set him up as a celestial being to be worshipped. I’m not sure the seraph will like that idea. He’s very solitary.”
Absalom scoffed. “Who wouldn’t want to be worshipped?”
I slid a glance at Silence. She stared at the grain of the wood table. Worry flickered through me. She was a quiet young woman, but not like that. Marriage to Absalom was surely awful.
“What do I tell him, exactly? When he asks what it means to be the figurehead of our church, what does that mean?”
Lilith glanced away.
Absalom blustered some reply that was more grunts than words.
So. They didn’t know. Or perhaps Lilith did know and didn’t like it.
My gut churned. I needed my freedom. I needed to know that no one would chase me down. Even if I could convince Gabriel and then disappear while the elders’ attention was on him, it felt like a betrayal now that I knew the man and his hopes and fears.
I wouldn’t subject a man to the church unawares.
It would be trapping someone else in my stead.
But he was a seraph, a being of great power.
He had wings, for goodness’ sake! There was no way Zorababel could trample over him like he did to me.
It was impossible. Gabriel could give all those elders a sneer and cutting look, and they’d be trembling in their boots.
Maybe it would be a good thing to trick Gabriel into joining the church.
He didn’t have nearly as much prejudice as the men in our church.
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Very well. I’ll try to do it faster. I need time to convince him to trust me, to show him this is in his best interest.”
Lilith glanced at her brother, who clenched his jaw but nodded.
“You won’t have forever,” Lilith warned me. “The reverend expects this to be over before the end of winter.”
It was barely December. “I need at least a month. Six weeks, preferably,” I told them, gripping my hands together, hidden under the table.
Absalom swung his gaze to his sister, who nodded. “Absalom will tell the reverend.”
I held back my sigh of relief. “Then I think we’re done here.” I looked to Silence. “I need to pick up some dry goods at the shop across the lane. Would you like to come with me?”
Her eyes sparkled and she opened her mouth.
Absalom’s hand, which had been tracing the rim of his ale mug, reached out and clamped down again in her lap. “She’s staying with me.”
The hope in her eyes died and she bit her lip, apologizing with her expression.
I smiled in reassurance. “Congratulations on your marriage, Silence.” I turned and walked away, holding my emotions tight until I had my sack of goods and began the walk home.
The chain of my necklace rubbed against my neck, and I tried to adjust it. I’d had the key for a decade now, and I’d fashioned a necklace out of it with a simple chain two years after that, when my doubts first began.
I found the key in the dirt when I was seventeen. I’d dawdled with my friends and let the bread burn again, and one of the elder’s wives had used a birch switch on my open palm as punishment. Furious and embarrassed, I’d stayed quiet until I could hide behind the outhouse and let my tears flow.
I hate it here, I seethed. Surely not all churches for Erlik are like this.
One day I’ll go far away and I’ll find a church that doesn’t hurt their people.
I found the key while walking home, and it had felt…
prophetic. Looking back, it was just the fancy of a desperate girl, but it had become an emblem of freedom to me.
Over the years I’d gotten better at hiding my rebellion, concealing my disgust at the injustice done to the people around me.
When Zorababel announced in the pulpit that Erlik had told him to choose a bride and it would be me, I gripped the key around my neck, tried not to panic, and smiled.
I knew I had to unlock my cage now before it was too late.
The wind dried my tears, leaving my cheeks tight from the salt left on them.