When she spoke, the husky depth of her voice at odds with her tiny frame, it was in a tone even dryer than Leith’s had been, “You’re not normal, are you?”
An odd expression, somewhere between a frown and a grimace crossed his face. “Are you?”
“Oh honey. What’s the fun in that?” Amethyst circled Leith a couple times. I could almost feel her fingers itching to run through the shifting patterns of light she saw around him.
“Hear, hear.” Gustavia grinned from ear to ear.
Judging by her frown of concentration, Amethyst was going to give Leith a thorough vetting and I wanted a front row seat. I snagged a place on the bench, rested my back against the picnic table, and kicked my long legs out in front of me. Kat joined me a few seconds later, maneuvered her body into an identical posture and whispered conspiratorially, “You know that man is trouble, right?”
“Alert the media,” was my sarcastic reply.
“What does Estelle say about him?” Now that Estelle had moved on from the spirit realm, Kat was no longer able to channel her spirit.
“Not much.” I didn’t add that Estelle had been spending most of her time elsewhere, or that I found her lack of commentary troubling. Kat was sensitive enough to pick up that vibe on her own. “Anything from your spirit guides?” Since all my contact with anyone from home now ran strictly through Julius and Estelle, I was effectively cut off from most sources of pertinent information—a lack that left me feeling bereft of support at times and consummately annoyed at others.
“They’re troubled, but optimistic,” she said unhelpfully.
To give him credit, Leith stood patiently while Amethyst scrutinized him thoroughly. Only once did his expression register surprise. Leaning in close, Ammie whispered something in his ear that made his eyes widen and cut toward me, then quickly away.
When it was done, she gave him a pat on the arm and announced that he had passed.
Maybe now we could eat and get down to business.
“I’ve been thinking ever since you called,” Julie forked a bite of apple pie into her mouth and chewed with obvious pleasure before adding, “and I think I know just the thing to give you. You said it needed to be portable, durable, and something he handled frequently. My first thought was a piece of jewelry, until I realized Julius didn’t own any. Not even a wedding ring.” That sounded about right.
“So, I went through some boxes in the attic and found this,” she handed me a black, foot-long, fluted metal tube that had a point on one end and a ball on the other.
“What is it? His magic wand?” Leith’s wisecrack was met with laughter and Julie gestured for me to hand it back. Grasping the ball firmly, she touched a hidden mechanism and with a ratcheting sound, the pointed end extended to triple its former size. It was a cane.
“One of his own creations. Do you think it will work?” Underlying the lighthearted banter, there were faint frown lines around Julie’s eyes that testified to her worry on Julius’ behalf. I looked to Leith for an opinion, since tracking spells were more his thing than mine.
“It should do.” A brief answer, but reassuring.
Chapter Thirteen
As we approached the space between two buildings, a shiver ran along my skin that had nothing to do with the temperature dropping in the shade they created. There was a field of magic running across the span. I could see a faint shimmer and the shallow ridge of detritus that had built up on this side of the line as though the mundane bits of paper and debris were barred entry.
Had Julius trustingly followed someone across a line such as this before he disappeared? Malachiel’s gift had always been one of persuasion; a glib tongue he’d used, I always thought, to tempt his charges toward making the right choices, rather than providing the bare minimum of guidance needed for them come to decisions on their own.
An inexperienced angel like my trainee stood little chance of seeing through Mal should he choose to turn his focus from truth to lies. Even now, he could be tempting Julius toward a fall of his own. With that thought in mind, I sent up a prayer for all of our protection, hoped someone up there was listening, and followed Leith across the line.
The shiver turned to an electric tingle that faded just before the painful stage, and the light around me changed. Gone were the buildings and the shadow between. Instead, I found myself in the most unexpected of places: a carnival. Flashing lights, dinging bells, the cries of carny workers beckoning marks to take a chance, win a prize, guess your age. Come in, see the strange, the weird, the wonderful.
And beneath the frantic surface ran the feel of something neither dark nor light, but ready to jump at either. Magic.
“What is this place?” I grabbed Leith by the shoulder, pulled him to a stop to face me. “The Circus of the Damned?”
A quick grin lit his face. “No, it’s just the Fringe.”
That explained a lot and nothing at all. Of course I’d heard of the Fringe—the places where worlds bumped up against each other and overlapped—but I’d never had reason to visit one. It was one of the places where humans could go and angels were forbidden to follow. I was breaking rules just by being here. Or was I? I hadn’t followed a charge across the barrier, and having a physical body made me sort of human, so maybe there wouldn’t be repercussions. The little voice of anarchy that rode around with me these days made a snarky comment about how I was pretty much on my own anyway, and so what if the Powers didn’t like me being here. It was too late to do anything about it now.
Moving forward determinedly to walk side by side with Leith, I ignored the knowing grin that came from watching me wrestle with the decision to turn back or go on. With the distraction of my moral indecision out of the way, I noticed a few surprising things about my surroundings. Despite the mix of realities represented, the atmosphere was decidedly low-key. Very little of my own shock at the mingling of worlds registered on the faces around me.
Two pointy-eared elven children sprinted past me to take the last open spaces on a Tilt-A-Whirl with scarred seats and aged paint. Their shrieks and giggles as the relic spun them into the curves sounded no different from the ones I would have heard in the world I was used to. I’m not sure why that comparison fascinated me, but it did.
Passing through the midway, we made our way up a gentle grade to where a series of buildings marched in rank and file along a curved path. When a brawny goblin lad led his two-headed goat toward a penned-in area behind one of the livestock buildings, I goggled like a tourist and Leith had to tug on my arm to get me moving again. The familiar smell of hay and manure seemed out of place here.
Beyond the agricultural section, the path trended downward at enough of an angle that I counted the peaked tops of more than a dozen tents running down each side. Compared to the giddy sights and sounds of the midway, this section seemed darker, almost sinister despite the brightly-colored awnings.
“This way.” The spot where Leith laid a guiding hand on my arm burned like cold fire, the sizzle reaching all the way to my toes while leaving a trail of gooseflesh along the way. I swallowed a gasp and acted like nothing had happened. His face gave away nothing of whether he felt the shock as well.
“What? You’re not going to win me a stuffed animal? Those rainbow sparkly unicorns are cute.”
He pretended he hadn’t heard my muttered question, but I saw the hint of a smile slide across his lips and leave as quickly as it had come. We made our way toward the business end of the carnival.
Crudely carved and drawn signs advertised the wares and services to be found inside the open tents or behind a closed canvas flap. For a few dollars I could learn my fate, find love, or purchase a weapon crafted by magical means. One tent was filled to overflowing with enchanted jewelry. Gustavia would have had a field day here.
At the fourth tent from the end on the right hand side, Leith paused. The sign in front carried nothing more than a carved symbol. A circle with a line bisecting it that ran from the two o’clock position through seven o�
��clock.
“Let me do the talking,” Leith insisted.
He took my silence for assent and half dragged me inside. I knew the second my toe crossed the threshold this place held great power. The earthy scent of dried herbs filled the small, close space. The familiar thyme, mint, and rosemary competing with others I couldn’t identify made my head spin for a brief second. A couple blinks cleared the miasma from my eyes and I saw Leith already seated in front of a mahogany table with a scarred top.
“Sit down, Adriel.” His voice was soft and encouraging, quite at odds with his usual brusque tones. “Our host will join us shortly. There’s nothing to fear.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one defying conventions just by being here.
My heartbeat clanged in my head with the sound of a thousand bells when I felt his presence prickle across my skin. There went my chance at getting out of here without anyone from home finding out. All the air left my lungs in a whoosh of shocked surprise. His expression mirrored my own. He was as dismayed to face me as I was to find him here.
“Galmadriel.”
“Lamiel.”
On the short side as angels go, Lamiel would have to stand on the second step of a staircase to look me in the eye. Expressive in their disdain, his dark eyes flanked a long nose with nostrils that flared as though he smelled something offensive. His lips were pressed into a straight line and not a single mousy hair on his head was out of place.
Why did our civilized greeting feel like we had just shouted en garde at each other? Weren’t we on the same side? Oh, God, had I crossed over to the darkness without even realizing it? My thoughts raced to the beat of my galloping heart until I heard Estelle’s voice like a cold shower in my head, pull yourself together. I looked around, but she was nowhere to be found.
In the hierarchy of angels, Lamiel ranked below the council of powers and above the guardians which, in the past, had made him my superior and in the present—well, I didn’t know what he was to me now, but I’d lay odds on him being a thorn in my side.
“Interesting company you’re keeping these days.” The comment delivered in a mild tone was still meant to put me in my place. It failed utterly. Too bad for Lamiel.
“I could say the same about you, Lamiel. If you have an opinion of me that you think I need to hear, then stop beating around the bush and speak right up.” My spine straightened as I drew myself to full height. Even seated, Lamiel had to look up to meet my eyes. Whatever he saw there diffused his pique with me, and on a sigh, his face collapsed into lines of worry.
“You have no idea the wheels you set in motion with one reckless act.”
My heart sank with the realization that all of this: Julius being detained; darkness taking spirits out of turn; the impending doom of imbalance between the realms—was all my fault. Sickness swamped my belly, churned it to an acid volcano that erupted into an inner tirade. How could I have been such an idiot? An arrogant fool who thought she could act with impunity based on a paltry millennia spent watching over humans. I was so busy berating myself, I missed half of his next sentence.
“…ever successfully banished an Earthwalker once it has taken a host. If you can teach us how to do the same, we have a real shot of returning the balance.” My mind must be playing tricks on me, because he sounded excited and positive. Wait, what was I missing here?
I pulled my thoughts back to the present to see him eying me expectantly. Give me some credit, I at least managed to drag my mouth shut once I realize it was hanging open. Finally on full alert, I noticed the parchment he’d laid on the table between us, a quill poised over it as though he planned to take notes. Beside me, Leith’s shoulders shook twice, but when I looked at him, there was no sign of laughter.
“I…what?” No one was going to pin any medals on me for being a scintillating conversationalist.
At that, Leith rose from his seat. “I have some other matters to attend to, so I’ll leave you two to talk.” He was gone before I could say boo.
Lamiel’s eyes narrowed. “Give me the step by step account of how you vanquished that Earthwalker without killing the host. Leave nothing out.”
“Oh, you think it was me.” His eyebrows shot up into his hairline before beetling into a frown.
“It was you.” Yet, there was an element of question in his statement.
“I was merely the focus. It took an entire group of friends—mortals—to help me send Billy back to the depths where he belonged, and even then it was a close thing.” Too close, considering the way Kat had become lost during the skirmish.
Lamiel’s swarthy face lost half its color. “Then there is no longer hope.” With restless fingers, he rolled the parchment into a tube and stashed it in the folds of the cloak thrown hastily over his shoulders. “If you will excuse me, I must go.” He made a move to stand, but I’d reached my limit. I stood abruptly, the force of my upward trajectory knocking the chair to the floor.
“You owe me the courtesy of an explanation.” Being shut out of everything had taken a toll on me, but all that was about to end.
To my surprise, Lamiel settled back in his chair and eyed me appraisingly. “I suppose it cannot be helped.” His next words stunned me into open-mouthed silence. “We have reason to believe Malachiel abducted Julius to conduct experiments with the ultimate goal of turning an angel into an Earthwalker’s vessel.”
“But that would be…” The word catastrophic came to mind along with several others that the angel in me wouldn’t let pass my lips.
“Yes?” Lamiel waited for me to come to it on my own.
“Impossible.”
“How so?” Lamiel leaned toward me with eager interest.
“I fought the battle for the soul of Logan Ellis using nothing more than light. One moment of physical contact from me and there would have been an entirely different outcome.” I took a moment to think through the repercussions of what I had done.
Darkness and light coexisting inside a mortal forms the very basis of free choice. Billy’s possession of Logan had pushed the needle almost all the way into the black. Working alongside Amethyst and the other three women, I created a field of containment and then fed a full spectrum of light back into Logan to return him to balance and drive the Earthwalker out. When the men showed up to add their lights to the mix, they upset the balance past the point where I could maintain control, and instead of the backlash being unleashed on Logan, it had chosen the clearer channel and blasted Kat. The entire operation had required precise timing in order to keep me from ever coming into physical contact with Logan. His fragile human form could not withstand the clash of pure light with pure darkness. Darkspawn cannot stand against pure light, and by the same token a lightworker such as Julius cannot contain darkness. Any attempt to force him to do so would result in a stalemate at best, and destruction at worst.
My mortal darkness made me the only angel susceptible to that level of corruption.
I suppose the news should have scared me. What it did was make me angry. Next level angry. Red-faced, teeth-clenched, shaking with fury, spitting mad. Lamiel pushed back away from me slightly, a frown on his face.
“It seems you have come to the correct conclusion.” His mild tone was meant to soothe and failed entirely. I set the chair back on its feet and stalked back and forth the three paces the area allowed.
“I guess I have.” I stopped pacing and regained my seat. “I’ll tell you everything.” I told him the whole story and watched his face turn paler by the minute. The last, and I mean the very last, thing he had wanted to hear was that saving vessels required mortal assistance.
“Now you know. And you should also know that I have no intention of letting Malachiel plant a ticking time bomb in my soul. What could he hope to obtain by pulling a stunt like that?”
“That’s what Leith has been helping us figure out.” Lamiel leaned toward me to whisper, “Can we trust him?”
“How should I know? I only met the man two days ago,” I hissed
back. ”You’re the one who seems all chummy with him.”
“Yet my sources tell me you took him to see your friends,” he spat the word out like it was a curse. “What does the reader say about him?”
That he has a nice backside probably wasn’t what Lamiel wanted to hear, and it was all I could do not to snort when I imagined the look on his face if I said it. Romance had its time and place. This was neither.
“It’s complicated.” Understatement. “He has ties to the darkness, but it is not in him. When I met him, he was fighting for the light, protecting a spirit from a darkspawn bent on taking it below.” The image played back in my head. “Using supernatural means.” Carefully deciding which section to show, I projected the mental movie to Lamiel who watched with interest as Leith cast the energy ball at the reaper.
“See? He went to great lengths to protect Sylvie at the moment of her passing. It wasn’t his fault she chose to remain behind.” Was I trying to convince Lamiel or myself? Sighing, I showed him the rest of it. There was nothing else to look at in the stuffy confines of the tent, so when his eyes went wide and the breath whooshed out of him at the point where the evil thing made contact with my wings, I was watching Lamiel’s face. I was still watching while he recovered his composure.
“I know, I know. I’m not supposed to have my wings out in plain sight like that. Give me a break, though. I’m new at having them go all physical like that.” A hint of a frown that he quickly smoothed away suggested Lamiel hadn’t been thinking that at all. I filed the notion away to ponder later. Right now, helping Julius was more important than re-establishing my position among the host.
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