A Temptation of Angels

by Michelle Zink

  She touched Griffin’s arm to get his attention. He stopped, and she pointed upward, indicating the lamps. He followed her gaze before looking back at her, surprise in his eyes.

  They were still standing there when Darius glanced at them, raising his eyebrows in question. Griffin pointed at the lamps, repeating the exercise with his brother until Darius nodded in understanding.

  They continued forward. Helen didn’t have to ask why they were moving to the side of the building rather than entering through the front. They could hardly announce their arrival by ringing the bell, especially if someone in residence was hoping to go unseen, as the broken streetlamps suggested.

  They were just rounding the corner to an alley at the side of the building when she felt cool flesh brush her hands. She nearly screamed before she realized it was Griffin, trying to keep her close to him. She grabbed his hand gratefully, not caring that it would be considered unseemly in any other situation.

  This was, after all, no ordinary situation.

  They continued down the alley with Darius in the lead. Helen’s skirts swished against her legs until she was sure rats, and not the bedraggled fabric of her hemline, were bumping up against her. She heartily wished for her new attire, which was probably under construction this very moment inside Andrew Lancaster’s little shop.

  Finally, they stopped moving. Helen strained to peer over Griffin’s shoulders, but it was no use. She couldn’t see a thing. He must have sensed her frustration because, a moment later, he stepped back against the building, moving Helen to a position between his brother and him.

  They stood before a large window. It began a few feet off the ground and reached all the way up the building, far above their heads. Even in the dark, Helen could see that many of the panes were broken.

  “There are crates stacked in front of the window.” Darius’s voice was a whisper, his eyes shining black in the near darkness of the alley. “We can use them to get in.”

  Griffin nodded at his brother. “I’ll go first. You help Helen up, and I’ll get her on the other side.”

  “I’m right here,” Helen whispered angrily. “And I’m sure I can manage getting through a window.”

  Even as she said it, she was grateful for their presence. The truth was, she might not make it through the window without assistance. Climbing and hoisting her body, encased in cumbersome skirts, over the threshold of the window wouldn’t be easy, even with help. Without it, she’d likely be stranded in the alley with the rats.

  Still, there was no reason to tell the brothers such a thing.

  “Let us help you, Helen.” Griffin humored her. “It will be easier and quicker.”

  He reached up without another word, grabbing onto the ledge with both hands and lifting himself up, as if it took no effort at all. His legs disappeared through the opening in seconds.

  “Okay.” Darius stepped closer, bending over and lacing his fingers together. “I’m going to lift, and you’re going to grab onto that ledge and pull yourself over. Got it?”

  She nodded, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she approached him. Wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt, she put her boot in the cup made by his hands.

  “Wait,” she said. “Where do I put my hands?”

  “Haven’t you ever snuck over a fence before?” He continued without waiting for her reply. “Put them on my shoulders until you get high enough to grab the ledge. Then, just let go and pull.”

  “Right,” she muttered. “Let go and pull.”

  She placed her hands on his shoulders, but before she had time to properly prepare, she was lifted into the air, her leg wobbly in the uneven harness of his hand. She only had time to register the proximity of his face to her stomach in passing, for she was soon at eye level with the window ledge. She didn’t want to let go of Darius’s shoulders. They were so solid, so sure. And the ledge was at least two feet away. Two feet of empty space to cross before she reached the bottom of the window opening.

  “Grab it!” Darius grunted under her.

  Forcing herself to let go of him, she lunged for the ledge, grabbing tightly to the brick as Darius shoved her, none too gently, into the opening. For a split second, she thought she might tumble headfirst to the floor below, but she paused, her body teetering, as she gathered her balance. Then, she pushed up with her arms. It was harder than Griffin made it look, but she managed to pull her legs up until she was in a seated position, her legs dangling over the ledge and into the building.

  Griffin’s voice came softly from below. “Drop down. I’ll catch you.”

  She peered into the darkness, trying to gauge the distance to the floor and Griffin’s position beneath her. “Where are you?”

  “Don’t worry. I can see you. Just let go. I’ll catch you.”

  He made it sound so easy. As if launching oneself into the dark with the hopes that someone might catch you was perfectly normal. But the truth was, she didn’t have a choice. Darius was directing her from one side. Griffin, from the other. There was no place to go but down.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m letting go.”

  In the end, it was just that simple. She let go of the ledge, her stomach dropping away in the moment before Griffin’s arms closed around her waist.

  “There.” His voice was a whisper against the skin of her chest. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

  Her body slid against his as he set her down. She knew from the heat on her cheeks that she was blushing, though she hoped Griffin wouldn’t be able to see it in the darkness.

  Darius spoke softly from above them. “Move aside.”

  Griffin pulled her against a stack of crates as Darius landed with a neat thump only a couple of feet away. The ease with which he made the jump made her feel foolish.

  He took the lead, looking back at them only once. “We stay together unless otherwise agreed upon.”

  They nodded, following him into the shadows of the decaying building.

  The machines were hulking beasts in the darkness. Some of them were covered in ghostly cloth, once white but now a dingy brown. Others were laid bare, their gears glinting like teeth in the little light that made its way through the windows. Knobs and controls littered the surfaces of the metal contraptions, small screens dark and empty of display.

  Helen walked between the brothers, Darius in front, Griffin at her back. She felt safe between them. It surprised her, but she pushed the realization aside for later inspection as they made their way around the machines, treading carefully lest they should announce their presence. Finally, a dim yellow glow began to light their way, and they edged along a row of crates, staying out of the light.

  When they came close enough to realize its source, Helen was surprised to see an old metal worktable, illuminated with a green-glassed lamp much like the ones that had lit her father’s library. Parchment was scattered across the surface of the table. She could make out the faint outline of brushstrokes and realized the paper contained sketches, though the images on their creamy surface were impossible to decipher from where she stood.

  A tinny clatter arose from above their heads, and they stepped farther back into the shadows. They followed the sound with their eyes, breathing a collective sigh of relief when a black cat slinked across the banister.

  Helen didn’t know how she’d missed the loft constructed high above the worktable, but she saw it now. Even from where they stood, she could see the upper level held at least one more room, separated from the rest of the building with frosted-glass windows.

  Darius reached past her, touching his brother on the shoulder as he pointed to a ladder on their right. Griffin nodded in understanding before leaning very close to Helen, his breath in her ear.

  “Stay here, Helen. In the darkness. We will—”

  She began to protest, but he held a finger to her lips. The gesture shocked her, though she knew he was only trying to keep her quiet.

  “We’ll make too much noise, if we all go up the ladder. And it will take
us too long to get down if we need to make a quick escape. If you stay here, in the shadows, you’ll be safe until we come down.” He looked into her eyes, his fingers still against her lips. “All right?”

  She did not relish the thought of remaining alone on the ground floor of the old building, but she recognized the wisdom in his argument. She nodded.

  Lowering his hand, he turned to Darius. The brothers moved forward without another word, keeping to places where the machines or the building itself cast shadows black enough to hide them, at least some of the time, even from her.

  She watched the outline of their figures ascend the ladder. The moment they disappeared into the mysterious recesses above, Helen turned her attention to the worktable.

  Adjusting her position, she tried to see the pieces of paper strewn across the desk. The lines and curves of the drawings made her intensely curious about their subject. She was trying to talk herself out of moving in for a closer look, even before she was aware that she was considering it.

  No, she told herself, you cannot go look. It’s dangerous. And there is light there which makes it more so. Besides, the little voice in her mind said, Darius and Griffin will be back soon, and they won’t be happy that you discounted their instructions.

  Except they didn’t come back. Not right away. Helen waited, peering after them into the darkness beyond her head. They’d probably found something important, she rationalized, her impatience growing with each passing minute.

  Finally, after looking around one last time, she cut the thread of indecision and stepped cautiously out of the shadows.

  Nothing happened. No one descended. No one came after her.

  She stepped forward slowly at first, gathering courage as she went until she closed in three long strides the remaining feet between her and the table. It took only moments to know they were in the right pace. The sketches were keys. Looping, whirling, scrolled keys very like the ones on Galizur and Anna’s key ring. At first they all looked alike, but when she looked more closely, she could see the slight differences among them. Admiration swelled inside of her, despite their connection to the mystery at hand. How difficult it must be to craft something so fine. To design it and cut it just so and then do the same with a lock into which the key would fit perfectly.

  She reached for one of the papers closest to her, wanting to inspect it more closely.

  “Don’t touch that.” The man’s voice, low and threatening, came from behind her.

  She froze, her arm in midair, panic slamming into her all at once. She didn’t know this voice, but she knew that it wasn’t Griffin’s and it wasn’t Darius’s.

  “This is an unexpected bonus,” the voice said. “That all three of you would appear at my door.”

  “We aren’t here to make things easier for you.” Helen spoke to the wall in front of the desk. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to answer, but she used the time to let her eyes rove around the worktable, seeking something with which to defend herself.

  It was a futile hope. This was a surface used for drawing and planning, not the crafting of tools or keys. The desk held nothing but parchment, quills, and several ink pots.

  “Turn around,” the man commanded.

  Helen swallowed, trying to compose her face into an expression that didn’t betray the terror washing over her. She thought of Darius and Griffin, still upstairs, and hoped they might come down in time to help her. She didn’t know if they had the power to overcome the one who had murdered their families, but at least there would be three of them. She turned slowly, not wanting to startle the man or cause him to act rashly in any way.

  She expected to see his face, but when her back was at last against the worktable, she was staring only into darkness.

  He spoke from the shadows in front of her. “I don’t usually do the killing myself, on principle.”

  She heard the voice commanding another in her childhood chamber: Burn it.

  She wondered if it was her imagination that the man suddenly sounded younger. That there was a hint of regret in his voice.

  “You could let us go,” she said softly. “No one would ever know.”

  “No.” She could almost see him shaking his head in the slight movement from the shadows. “Though it’s not that I want to destroy you. That’s something you must understand.”

  And she could hear in his voice that he did want her to understand.

  “Then what? Why?” She heard the plaintiveness in her own voice. The question. She was no longer simply stalling. This was the man who had ordered the murder of her parents. Whether or not he had done the killing himself hardly mattered.

  She heard his hesitation in the pause that followed. As if he was searching for the right words to explain himself. “There’s something I want. Something I need. I can only get it by ensuring that you’re all destroyed.”

  “So you’re killing us—having our families murdered—because of something you want?”

  “It’s not like that. You don’t understand.” There was frustration in his voice. “It’s something I must have. It will make everything like it was. Besides, I already told you; I don’t do the killing myself. That was part of our agreement.”

  “What agreement?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” The man’s voice deepened, anger sharpening its edges as he stepped toward her. Toward the light that would illuminate his face. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You’ve done me a service by coming here, and I will do you one by destroying you and your friends quickly.”

  She shook her head as he came into view, taller than she expected and as broad-shouldered as Darius. Hand already on the glaive at his belt, he emanated strength.

  “No. Please…”

  “Don’t be afraid.” His hair was black as a raven and nearly to his shoulders. “You’ll be with your parents. It will be better for you in the other world. This one is good for little but suffering. Surely even you know this.”

  There was an undertone of desperation in his bitterness. As if he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

  At last, he stepped fully into the light, appearing much younger than she expected. He was clad in tight trousers and a loose black shirt. When his eyes met hers, he stopped advancing.

  “What… How…” He tipped his head, stepping closer to her, staring at her as if the answer to all of life’s mysteries lay in her eyes.

  And then, she saw the answer to one of her own mysteries in the sea-blue depth of his.

  She knew this man.

  She tried to find a way to say it. To explain to him the connection she was only just beginning to grasp. But nothing came.

  All she could do was stare into the confusion and shock on his face.

  That, and hear his words. Words that stole her breath.

  “Your eyes… I’ve only seen color like that once before, but… it cannot be.” Something fell from his hand with a clatter as he backed away, into the shadows, shaking his head. “It’s you.”

  He turned and ran.

  FOURTEEN

  Helen?” Griffin made no effort to be quiet when he saw her on the ground. He sprinted down the ladder ahead of his brother, reaching her in seconds. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  “I… It was…” Helen shook her head.

  “What happened?” Darius looked around, sensing there was more to the scene than was currently obvious. “Was someone here?”

  “It was him.” She opened her hand, showing them they key that lay in her palm.

  It was the key that made her sure. She’d rushed forward a moment after the man had disappeared, grabbing for the object that had clattered to the ground. In her palm, it struck the chord of recognition she had first felt when she saw the key found in the rubble of her home. This time, the bell rang louder.

  She was transported to a day in which the sun shone on her tea party in the garden. She sat with her friend Wren at a small table, the dolls joining them in seats of their own. Wren had acce
pted the tea, shyly telling her that he had a gift for her as well.

  Not something you can eat, like tea sandwiches, or something you can drink, he’d said. Something shiny and pretty to look at.

  When he’d handed her the strange object, she had looked at it in wonder, much as she did now. It was not the same key, of course. But she understood now that it was from the same maker, and her imaginary friend had not been imaginary after all.

  She heard her mother calling them in from the garden; Helen! Raum! Come inside, children. It’s getting cold!

  Raum, in the haze of childhood memory, had become Wren.

  “Helen? Listen to me, Helen!” Griffin’s hands were on her shoulders, and she realized with a start that he was speaking to her. Had been speaking to her for some time.

  She blinked up at him. “Yes?”

  He plucked they key from her hand and held it in front of her. “Where did you get this?”

  “He left it for me.” She looked into his eyes. “Raum left it for me.”

  “I don’t understand.” Griffin paced the floor of the library while Helen sat, still in shock, on the sofa. “How is it possible that you know him?”

  “I don’t.” She looked down at her hands. “Not anymore.”

  “But you did.” Darius spoke from a chair near the fire. It was odd, seeing him so still while Griffin moved with catlike energy across the library floor.

  “Yes.” She stared into the fire crackling in the firebox. “I didn’t think… Well, I didn’t think he was real. I played with him quite frequently when I was small. I don’t even remember when he stopped visiting.” She looked up at Griffin. “I mentioned him to my mother a couple of years ago. She told me that many creative people have imaginary friends. I remembered his name as Wren, and she never corrected me. He was the only friend I’d ever had.”

  “Raum Baranova is hardly a friend.” Darius’s voice was dry. “The key in your hand was probably meant to be left at the scene of our murder.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, she looked up at him in shock.