Jovah's Angel

by Sharon Shinn

  He was bending over her solicitously, making sure she had survived the transportation intact, both body and spirit reviving. She managed a shaky smile at him.

  “What exactly is it that we have just done?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. I feel like I have been completely pulled apart and reassembled. Incompletely. Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes. It’s less terrifying when you know what to expect.”

  He glanced around the inner chamber as if seeking points of reference. “I wonder what time it is. Do you have any idea?”

  “When did you arrive here?”

  “Days ago. Years ago.”

  “I think it must be late at night. In any case, I’m starving.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “I have some food—”

  “Me, too. And I’m tired. I have to sleep, and soon.”

  He smiled. “Me, too. Shall we throw together a meal, then spend the night here together?”

  She nodded. “And then think about what we must do next.”

  It was a quiet, almost luxurious meal, despite the fact that their dried provisions were neither plentiful nor exotic. They had found the oracle’s living quarters and made themselves comfortable on more opulent furniture than they would have expected from a supposed ascetic. When they had finished their meal, they sat quietly together on the sofa, loosely embraced, talking in a relaxed and idle way. It was as if—between terror, betrayal, wonder and argument—all their passion had been spent earlier in the day, and now there was nothing left but to rest in each other’s arms.

  “There was a great deal else to think about,” Caleb said at last, speaking the words into her hair. “But while we were aboard the spaceship, Jovah called me by name. You must have noticed.”

  She gave a small laugh. “The son of Jeremiah. I noticed.”

  He kissed the back of her head. “And, as I recall, when you left me at Hagar’s Tooth, it was to go off in search of just such a man. The son of Jeremiah. When it appears I am the man you have been seeking all along.”

  “Strange but true,” Alleya said. “I have not had time yet to assimilate the glad news.”

  “And does this mean you must marry me? And name me as your angelico? In fact, I believe it means you have no choice. Your god has spoken, and you must obey.”

  “My god is not who I believed he was,” Alleya retorted. “I may no longer be subject to his dictates.”

  “Well, then, what does your heart require?” he asked. “That is where you should look for your true answer.”

  “My heart is willing, but my head is suspicious,” she said. “If a man is to be angelico, he must, first of all, be prepared to carry on his religious and civic duties. In short, he must be ready to lead the masses at the Gloria and sing before a crowd of thousands.”

  “Ah,” Caleb said. “Maybe I am not so eager for the role after all.”

  “And he must be a patient man, willing to give his time to the petitioners who will come to him, seeking to curry favor with his wife, the Archangel, but afraid to approach her directly—”

  “Well, I am sociable enough, though I do not gladly endure fools.”

  “And he must, of course, put aside his own pursuits so that he can devote his time fully and completely to the life of the Archangel and the business of the hold.”

  With a palm on her cheek, Caleb turned her face toward his. “Must he really?” he asked seriously. “I admit, that would be difficult.”

  “Actually, I wouldn’t think you’d have to give up anything,” she said. “If Hagar could disappear for months at a time to the Corinni Mountains, I don’t see why you couldn’t be down in Luminaux, inventing things.”

  “Or Velora,” he said. “I could set up a workshop there.”

  “Well, then. One problem solved. How’s your voice?”

  “My voice is—adequate. Not something people would pay to listen to.”

  “Do you know any of the sacred masses?”

  “I’m not sure what a sacred mass is.”

  “How quickly do you learn?”

  “How hard is it?”

  “Hard enough. But if you only have to learn one mass—”

  “Can someone teach me?”

  “There are the music rooms at the hold,” she reminded him. “You can go there and listen for hours. If you left tomorrow morning—”

  “I can’t go directly to the Eyrie,” he interrupted. “In two or three weeks, I could be there.”

  She shifted her body so she could face him more comfortably. “Where do you have to go first?”

  “To Luminaux. To see Delilah.”

  “Delilah?”

  He nodded. “I think—I may be wrong—I think one of those little batteries might be able to mend her. I have to try. And soon. Before she leaves with the Edori ships for Ysral.”

  “I agree. Go to Luminaux first, and come to the Eyrie as soon as you can.”

  “And you’ll be there?”

  She was silent a moment, thinking, then she settled back into his arms. “I’ll be there by the time you arrive,” she said.

  In the morning, they prepared to go their separate ways. It was the first time that they had parted without the fear that they would never see each other again, and so their farewells were almost lighthearted. Still, as they stood on the landing ledge at the opening to the cavern, they were each touched by a vagrant sadness.

  “It is always hard to leave you,” Caleb said, “or to watch you leave.”

  “Travel carefully, and think of me.”

  “Jovah guard you,” he said.

  She gave him a quizzical look. “You commend me to a machine?”

  “I trust him now more than I ever did.”

  She kissed him quickly. “You’re a strange man, son of Jeremiah.”

  “Strange but faithful,” he said, kissing her in return. “Till I see you again.”

  “In Velora.”

  “Till then.”

  And they kissed again and parted. Alleya watched for a moment as Caleb began his slow descent down the mountain; then she launched herself into the turquoise skies. She flew southwest for half an hour before making a quick landing at a small town situated on one of the main east-west roads.

  “I have a message to be taken to the Eyrie,” she said after she had introduced herself to the burgher who resided in the largest house. “Can you perform that office for me?”

  “With pleasure, angela,” he said. So she wrote Samuel a brief note (“I have conferred with the god, and he can once again hear all angels. Spread the news. I will be at the Eyrie in fifteen or twenty days”) and sealed it with the proffered wax.

  “It is urgent,” she said. “I will appreciate your hurrying.”

  Within minutes, she was on her way again. There was no reason she could not have carried her own message to the holds, of course, for she was on no desperate mission and no one was expecting her in Chahiela. But the truth was, she could not face Samuel’s sharp eyes and Asher’s eager questions; she needed time to think, time to reorder her numb brain. Time to reassess her role. Time to come to terms with her god.

  She stopped only twice more, briefly, and made it to Chahiela by nightfall.

  Delilah was no longer singing at Seraph.

  Caleb had arrived in Luminaux early enough in the afternoon to run a few errands before making his way to the club. The crowd was thin, and the reason was soon evident. Two singers, a mandolin player and a flautist all played adequate, even exquisite music, but never once did the angel appear.

  Caleb spotted Joseph lounging against the back wall, glumly surveying his clientele, and he made his over way to the Jansai. “You look bereft,” he observed. “I take it your star attraction has finally set?”

  Joseph nodded. “Came in a week ago and said she was packing to leave. I offered her twice the money and she laughed at me. I couldn’t go any higher than three times—a man’s got to make a profit, or it makes no sense—but she wouldn’t change her mind. S
he hasn’t told me who she’s going to, but I’ll find out. It’s a small city, and she’s not the kind of singer you can keep secret.”

  “I don’t think she’s planning to continue her career,” Caleb said. “So what are you going to do?”

  Joseph shrugged. “Something better than them,” he said, gesturing toward the stage. “I’ll find someone. Don’t worry about me.”

  Caleb turned away. “I wasn’t worried.”

  In the morning, knowing it was pointless to seek Delilah out before noon, he headed to the Edori camp to return the horse he had borrowed so long ago. Thomas was pleased to see him and waved off his apologies for tardiness.

  “I knew you would return with the mare, this month or next year, or the year after that,” said the old Edori. “You’re an honest man.”

  “If I’d kept her long enough, you’d be on board ship, and I’d never have to return her,” Caleb said with a smile.

  Thomas laughed. “Well, then, I’d be happy knowing you were caring for her and still meeting your obligation to me.”

  “But I didn’t come just to return the horse,” Caleb added. “If you’re in a mood to sell her, I’ll buy. And I can’t imagine you’ll have much room for horses on your boats.”

  Thomas beamed at him. “No, indeed. I was thinking to just set her free, but this pleases me much better. Name your price—I won’t haggle.”

  They came to a quick agreement and Caleb handed over his cash. Then he glanced around the campsite, which was in a frenzy of packing and dismantling. “You look like you’re all getting ready to move.”

  “Yes, the Gathering’s in about two weeks now, and the whole clan must be in Breven by then. And most of us won’t be coming back, though some will. Had you come even a day later, you would have missed us entirely.”

  “Is Noah traveling with you? I don’t see him.”

  “No, he’s in Breven already. Working on the ships.”

  Caleb felt a sudden sharp sense of loss, brutal and unexpected. “So he won’t be coming back? And is he—is he still set on leaving with you on the voyage to Ysral?”

  Thomas nodded happily. “Yes, and we’re glad to have him! Skills like his will be sorely needed, both on the journey and after.”

  There was no way for Caleb to finish his task here, make it quickly to Breven to say farewell, and still get to the Eyrie in three weeks or less. Well, perhaps he could be late. Alleya would no doubt be sympathetic. And yet, he had so much to learn and so little time.

  “If I give you a message, will you take it to him? I can’t believe—I didn’t realize—I hadn’t thought he would set sail before I had a chance to see him again.”

  Thomas laid a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “Yes, any farewell is difficult, and this one is hard on us all. I wish all the Edori would board those boats, and live or die together. As it is, to leave so many behind—It’s tearing many apart. Edori have a close bond, and this trip will sever it. Yet still I am impatient to set sail.”

  “And if you find Ysral?” Caleb demanded. “Will some of you come back and tell the rest?”

  “If we can,” Thomas said. “If the boats are still seaworthy, if our navigation has been good enough to allow us to retrace our route. I am not thinking of the return journey as much as the voyage out. Turn your face forward, and don’t be afraid of the next horizon.”

  Scant comfort in that. Caleb stayed only a few more moments before heading back to town. A leaden depression weighed him down as he thought of never seeing Noah again, he with his quick mind and his easy soul. He felt a flare of hatred for Delilah, who had driven Noah to this desperate venture; but he could not long curse the follies caused by love. He was about to pray to a manufactured god before an audience of thousands, and nothing but love could drive him to that.

  He was in Luminaux again before noon, making his first stop at the house of a man named Nathan Lowell. Caleb had come by this house the night before to make arrangements, and he found Nathan awaiting him with a small blue suitcase at his feet.

  “Ready?” Caleb asked.

  “Eager,” the man replied.

  The housekeeper at Delilah’s place informed them that the angel had just risen and might not be interested in company, but Caleb laughed at her and said, “She must see me. Tell her Caleb is here and that I won’t leave.”

  In a few minutes, the housekeeper ushered them into a room Caleb hadn’t seen before, pink and plush with fatly padded furniture. “It is my curiosity and not your impudence that brings you to this room,” the angel told him. She was lounging in a narrow-backed chaise, her wings spread carelessly around her on the floor like so much drifted milkweed. They had apparently interrupted her at breakfast, for she was sipping on some bubbling juice, and a plate of fruit was set on a table to her right.

  “Were you expecting me to feed you?” she inquired next. “I don’t know that there’s much in the kitchen, but I could ask—”

  “We’ve had breakfast and lunch, thank you very much,” Caleb replied. “Delilah, I want you to meet a friend of mine, Nathan Lowell.”

  “Yes, I noticed you brought company. Do excuse my atrocious manners, Nathan Lowell, but Caleb Augustus brings out the worst in me. You I am truly delighted to meet.” She extended her hand but made no effort to get up. Nathan came forward and kissed her fingers, which pleased her and surprised Caleb. Nathan was a staid middle-aged man with a near-fanatical intensity when his professional skills were called upon; Caleb had not expected him to fall so instantly to the angel’s charm.

  “You I have heard much of, all to your credit,” Nathan replied. “The honor of the meeting is mine.”

  Delilah waved lazy hands toward various chairs. “So, sit down! Tell me what has brought you here so early that you almost found me still sleeping in my bed.”

  Caleb perched on the edge of a footstool, thinking he might be leaping to his feet any moment. “I’ve come to ask a favor.”

  “Don’t you always?”

  “Which you are going to refuse. But you can’t refuse it. It’s too important.”

  Delilah turned toward Nathan Lowell and said conversationally, “I distrust this man most when he sounds so sincere. He is quite manipulative.”

  “The favor is to me, really,” Nathan said seriously. “I’ve been the one studying the effect of artificial stimulation on damaged nerve tissue—”

  Delilah’s head whipped back toward Caleb. “No,” she said flatly. “Once before I agreed—”

  “And I didn’t have the tools to help you,” he interrupted. “Now I might. Now I think I do. With Dr. Lowell’s help—”

  “Doctor Lowell!” she cried, sitting up so swiftly that her wings made a slurring, sibilant sound. “How could you bring a surgeon into my house without asking me—knowing how I hate the very thought of doctors—”

  “I knew you would be angry,” he said. “I knew I had only one chance. Delilah, I have discovered a device that supplies directed independent energy—it can stimulate the muscles in your wings that have been disconnected from—”

  “I will not listen,” she broke in, clapping her hands over her ears and shutting her eyes. “I will not listen to you—”

  He came to his feet, crossed to her side, and knelt before her. “You must do it,” he said quietly, putting his fingers around her wrists and seeking to pull her hands away. She resisted. “You must. Before you fling your life away on a doomed voyage across the sea.”

  “I will not listen to you. Go away.”

  “It is your last chance, do you understand me? If you leave for Ysral, no one else, not Noah, not any of the Edori, not Jovah, not you—no one can ever give you another hope of regaining your wings. It is all I have, Delilah, a hope—but it’s a good hope. It might make you whole. How can you throw that away? How can you say no? No one will ever ask you again. This is the last time I will importune you. Delilah, you have to try.”

  Slowly, she allowed the insistence of his fingers to ease her hands from her head. She looked
pale, defeated and sad. “You hurt me more than anyone else by making me hope again,” she whispered. “Why do you do that? Why can’t you leave me in peace?”

  “Because I can’t give up on you,” he said, standing. He held out his hand imperiously, and she laid hers in his, allowed him to pull her to her feet. Nathan Lowell had also risen, clutching his blue bag. “Doctor? Where would you like to perform the operation?”

  “Some place that’s very clean.”

  Delilah laughed mirthlessly. “Not here, then.”

  “I have room at my clinic. Would you like to meet me there in an hour or so?”

  “No,” Caleb said instantly. “We will come with you now.”

  The room was white and sterile, though someone had painted a border of violets along the baseboard. Delilah, lying facedown on a narrow cot, seemed absorbed in the repetitive pattern of purple and green. Since they had left her house, she had spoken only to answer direct questions; she seemed disengaged from the whole operation, as if they were not about to touch her body, change her life. On Nathan’s instructions, she had unfolded her damaged wing as best she could. Caleb and the doctor spread the chiaroscuro feathers over a long metal table.

  There followed a series of exercises similar to the ones Noah and Caleb had performed so many weeks ago, as the doctor determined exactly where the break lay and how the wing was affected. The two men laid the battery over the severed tissue and debated where to insert it, how to connect the working muscles to the alien cylinder, and how to conduct its power through the failed synapses. They had discussed this the night before—and weeks before when Caleb had brought the doctor the existence of the battery as a hypothesis—and they had theoretically determined that such a patch would be effective.

  “Well, then. I’m ready if the angela is,” Nathan finally said.

  “Oh, I’m ready,” she said.

  “You must take a sleeping drug,” Caleb told her.

  “I don’t want one.”

  “Well, this would be very painful without one,” the doctor told her briskly, measuring out a draught in a silver cup. “So no quarreling now, drink up.”