Kaybree Versus the Angels

by Harrison Paul

CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sifting Through the Past

  I slept terribly that night. The sounds of people hacking and wheezing outside my window kept me awake until nearly dawn. The flensu had come back, like it did every winter. When I finally arose, it felt as if my hours of rest had accomplished nothing. I touched the relic Galen had given me. It might protect me from Angels, but the flensu that was ravaging the peasants outside destroyed health from the inside out. The only defense was to keep warm and keep away.

  I asked Mira about the sickness on the way to class. "The change of weather makes it easier to get the flensu," she said.

  I thought about the people outside my window. "What happens to the peasants? I thought the sagekeeps sent out healers to help the sick."

  She bit her lip. "Well, sure, they try their best. But mostly they just go out for comfort. Let them kiss a relic before they die. Once you get the flensu, there's really no cure."

  We took our seats in Brother Jans's classroom. I stopped myself before letting my gaze drift toward the window, knowing I'd see red-faced peasants freezing and dying outside. If the knights here were anything like the ones in the capital, they'd clear the streets of the sick so that we students could go outside later today. It always bothered me that they brushed them away like pieces of trash, but then again, what could we do? If somebody got the flensu, they were going to die. The best we could do was send the sages to look after their souls.

  I listened quietly as Jans recounted the history of the sages in Nordgard, leading mankind through the last several centuries. I hadn't told him I'd taken the book, and Mira was still working on translating it. I decided I'd tell him about it after class.

  Once the class was dismissed and the others had filed out, I walked over to Jans. "When does the next class come in?" I asked.

  Jans blew his nose in his handkerchief and then tucked it away. "In about ten minutes," he said. He rubbed his arms. "Kind of chilly in here, don't you think?"

  "A bit," I said. I glanced around. "Anyway, I did what you asked. I was inside the Vormund tower when I was recovering from the attack."

  "And what did you see?"

  "I don't know. I saw an archives there, but I don't think anything is labeled 'Lady Andreya's Private Writings.' I'd need to ask someone to help me find something like that. And I don't think that would be a good idea."

  "No, certainly not." He frowned, stroking his smooth chin. He must have shaved every day to look like that. "But these archives interest me. Keep your eyes open and see if anything turns up."

  "Okay." I didn't tell him about my father's journal. I figured that didn't have anything to do with my mother's work, especially if it was dated so long ago. "By the way, I borrowed a book from you. I came in to see you, but you weren't here."

  He wiped his nose with the handkerchief again. "That's fine, Kaybree. The books here are for your perusal, so feel free to take them, so long as you return them promptly."

  "Thank you," I said.

  "Which book was it, if I may ask?"

  "One about the Angels," I said. "I figure I should try to understand them better if I'm going to figure out what my mother is doing. Like why they're attacking us."

  He frowned. "Kaybree, do you know what the Angels are?"

  I paused. "Not really." Even with Galen's explanation of their weaknesses, I still knew little about them.

  He took a small book from a shelf. "Some histories provide accounts of the Angels, but the most complete picture we find is through theology, the teachings of the sages and philosophers of times past." He flipped to a page with archaic letters. "Here is a transcription of the Vision of Giles the Philosopher. He was one of the primary vessels for our understanding of the Angels. As you can tell from his name, he was not from the Nordgard mainland, so the translation is rough. But he mentions that the Angels are blessed beings, chosen of the Almighty and sent to protect mankind."

  He pointed to a painting on the wall of an Angel walking toward a city, its arms outstretched. "The Angels brought light and civilization to us. They communicated God's will through visions. They imbued holy relics with divine power. They guided us and tutored us when we went astray from the right path."

  "But why do they live in the forest? And when they attack, why do they bring those creatures of darkness with them?"

  Jans picked up a fallen inkwell and set it on his desk. "The philosophers say that they stayed there to cleanse the forest with their light. They lived in the forest to stay close to man without being constantly before us. Or perhaps it was to protect us against greater evils that lay beyond."

  "But is it possible that they might attack?" I asked. "I mean, what if my mother isn't pretending? What if the Angels really are attacking?"

  "The Angels only strike that which is evil. Perhaps there is great evil among us that we do not yet realize." A few students began to trickle into the classroom, chatting quietly as they sat down. "We'll have to discuss this later. Just try your best to find more information. And . . . promise me you won't do anything reckless."

  "Sure thing," I said, though I knew such a promise was impossible to keep. I wondered at his words, considering that these attacks could be warnings instead. But in that case, why not visit one of the sages in a vision? If the Angels loved us, why cause so much destruction and suffering?