“That’s…it’s…”
“True is the word you’re looking for.” Terra observed dryly. “Don’t forget, sister mine, how rarely we associate ourselves with normals, and even the talented ones we choose to spend time with are of the long-lived variety.”
Blood witches age at least ten times slower than the average person.
I changed the subject. “How did you know where to find me?” I hadn’t talked to the three sisters since helping Soleil, and that was before Leith identified the general area where Julius was being held.
“We’ve been tracking you all along. For your safety, of course,” Terra said in a matter-of-fact tone that carried not the slightest iota of apology. My eyebrows felt like they might bounce off my hairline if they went any higher.
“How?”
“Trade secret.” Evian refused to budge from that answer. Trade secret. Right. Stupid shell.
While we walked, the sun burned off the residual mist and the city’s heartbeat slowly increased. Traffic began to snarl the narrow streets and sidewalks filled with people rushing from home to work. Each step took us closer to the danger ahead and adding them to the mix altered the plans I had made with Leith, who should already be in position by now. Estelle would have to warn him.
“We should probably go incognito,” Evian pointed out The next thing I knew, three sets of tiny, winged creatures had taken to the air surrounding my head. It didn’t escape my notice that their minute size presented a smaller target. At times like this, I missed being able to take non-substantial form more than ever.
Chapter Twenty
If my instincts had voices they’d have been shrieking like a fire alarm in close quarters. Some places only exist behind a curtain of shuddering darkness, even in broad daylight. Without conscious thought, people detour around these areas until they fall into complete disuse—not quite forgotten, but barely remembered.
Julius’ cane quivered in my hand, then pulled me closer to one such place. A narrow alley formed the entry to a section of abandoned buildings one street over from busy Market Street. Something of my sense of purpose must have translated to the hordes of bargain shoppers clogging the sidewalk given the way they parted before us, almost without thinking, and certainly without reacting.
A tall, fiery-haired woman with a fierce expression on her face, carrying a cane she clearly didn’t need, and surrounded by what probably looked like three dragonflies should have drawn a bit more notice. I quashed the temptation to break into song just to see what would happen, but allowed a grim smile to curl my lips at the mental image.
Maybe in time I’d get used to the entirely human urge to run away from those situations my angel side was sworn to confront, but today the duality of my nature was very much in evidence. I felt the dark energy wash over me, fought the desire to turn my steps away from it, and continued down the alley to the end.
All the sounds of bustling traffic muted as we passed onto concrete cracked and heaving from neglect. It was as if the city had forgotten this dead and broken place existed. Or maybe they were all too aware of its seething nature and hoped that, by attrition, the entire block would fall.
Sunlight dimmed here, almost as if someone had dialed back the wattage—yet, even in the shadows the air was heavy, close, and dankly humid. My nose wrinkled at the corrupt and fetid scent rising from the musty ground. Brimstone, maybe. Mixed with something equally black and toxic. My footsteps sounded like muted echoes with hollow tones.
“Creepy.” Hearing Evian’s voice at normal volume coming from her minuscule form brought another fleeting grin. Too much Disney must have created silly expectations of her sounding like Jiminy Cricket when she was about his size. I agreed with the sentiment, though.
“This way.” The cane tugged at my hand just as a shout erupted behind us.
“Adriel, wait.”
Oh no, what where they doing here? I turned to give the four women hurrying down the alley my best stern look. Not surprisingly, it made no dent whatsoever in their resolve.
“I told you I would handle this.”
Amethyst waved a dismissive hand at me. “And we said we wanted in.”
“It’s dangerous.” I countered.
“It’s Julius.” Julie said simply, her tone brooking no refusal. Stubbornness must be an inherited trait in the Hayward family. “We’re coming with you.”
I wanted to be petulant and tell them it would be on their own heads if anyone got hurt, but that would be a lie since I already carried the blame for his being captured to begin with. Every single step on the path that had brought him to this place—and us to find him—had been taken at my direction. “Give me a minute to think.” Adding an aura reader as strong as Amethyst to the mix could tip the balance more in our favor, and with Kat’s psychic tracking abilities having been honed by working with the police, there might be a better way to mount this rescue mission.
Julie and Gustavia carried heightened empathetic responses, which had played a larger part in vanquishing Billy the Earthwalker than even they realized, but I had no idea if there would be any use for them here. I led everyone back away from the alley where the noise from the crowded street could cover the sound of our voices as we discussed a new strategy.
Estelle, I called to her mentally, warn Leith we’ve suffered a series of complications.
What kind? She replied
Fae for one, your granddaughter for another. Can you think in frustrated tones? I guess you can, because I did.
On it, came the faint reply.
There was only one way to mount a sneak attack with five women, three faeries, Leith, and Estelle along for the ride. Worse, given that our advance information might not be reliable, we could be marching into a trap. However, I was not without certain resources. Mainly those of experience. Millennia spent watching over humans as they prepared for war had given me plenty of tactical perspective. Assessing my troops, I paired up a faerie with each woman based on what I felt were complementary areas of expertise. Evian and Kat were best at divining; they would handle threat assessment and early warning.
Terra and Gustavia, who, despite her appearance, was a grounded and level-headed thinker, would play rear guard. Julie's connection to Julius by blood made her our secondary link to him in case the cane failed. I assigned Soleil to her for protection and hoped I wouldn’t regret the choice.
When Estelle returned, I put her together with Amethyst, an easy decision. Estelle’s common sense combined with the aura reader’s abilities made them the best choice for shielding the group. Close contact with Amethyst, who could read energy signatures with ease, would only increase Estelle’s reach. My trainee was about to have her strengths tested with a walk through the fire.
I would walk alone for reasons I chose not to share with anyone.
As for a strategy, we had a basic plan. In case that went south, we would play it by ear. In that we had no other choice. So little of our intel came from trusted sources that the best plan was to stick together and assess the situation on the fly. Leith would be our ace in the hole.
This time when we strode out the mouth of the alley, it was with enough purpose to create a wind in the hair moment. Okay, so it wasn’t the first time I had tried to have one of those and failed. Last time the wind ignored me because I lacked a physical body. This time, it would have been more powerful if the air hadn’t been so heavy that it plastered the titian strands to my head. And…you know…if the underwire from my bra wasn’t poking me in the armpit. But we tried, you have to give us that much.
We kept up the pace for half a block before the whole thing started to feel a little silly. Terra was the first to spot Leith’s signal. If she hadn’t been paying attention we might have missed it entirely. Amid a wash of dirty graffiti just above eye level on the concrete wall of an abandoned dry cleaners was painted a star-tipped fairy wand. How droll.
As we watched, the wand turned to an arrow, then quickly regained its former shape.
&n
bsp; That was our cue. I gave Estelle the signal. She snapped her energetic tether onto the three faeries, who abruptly vanished from sight—each taking the woman she protected along with her. I felt their protection spell slide into place, and even the slight rustle of their clothing fell silent. A tiny shell braided into my hair—courtesy of Gustavia’s deft hand—would be my only means of communication until it became necessary to drop the shields. I tapped the shell twice to activate it and their voices returned. When it was all over, maybe I’d tell Evian and the others that the shell made them sound like munchkins from the Wizard of Oz movie. Maybe not.
The cane in my hand twitched twice, then tugged sharply forward and we followed. The darkness was confined to a two-block radius, on that point Estelle was certain; yet the empty street between here and there appeared to stretch on before us indefinitely. An optical illusion or a bending of the laws of physics, I couldn’t tell, but we walked for what might have been miles or only yards before the cane jerked again in my hand.
“You’re being watched.” Soleil’s voice sounded loud and strident as she made the pronouncement.
“Thanks for the update, genius.” Terra chided. I could almost hear her eyes rolling in their sockets. “Any other blindingly obvious facts you’d like to comment on?”
“Hush.” Estelle commanded. “You’re acting like children.”
“She started it.” Terra muttered.
They were going to get us killed if they kept up their bickering.
I felt the breeze from them a split second before the sound of fluttering wings reached my ears. Malachiel proudly stood before me, black pinions stretched fully across the two lane street to brush feathery tips against the brick and mortar walls on either side.
“I’m here for Julius, Mal. Make it easy on yourself and let him go without a fight.” Fairness dictated I offer him a chance, even if I knew he was unlikely to take it. Besides, who was I to rob him of his villain moment? You know the one, where the villain is compelled to talk about how bad he is and why he did what he did. It usually comes right before he makes the stupid move that enables the hero to take him down. Encouraging him to speak his piece worked in with my goal of distracting him while the others carefully picked their way past him to where the cane indicated Julius was imprisoned.
Under the cover of brushing away an errant strand of hair tossed into my eyes by the breeze Mal’s wings generated, I triggered the second gift the faeries had given me. A gentle tap activated the tiny crystal tucked into a crease near the corner of my eye, and glued on with eyelash adhesive—Gustavia carried half a makeup aisle in that purse of hers. The faeries and their human companions snapped into warped focus. My right eye saw only Mal and the empty street stretching ahead of and behind him, while my left revealed a more interesting sight.
Terra shot me a wink over her shoulder and, grasping Gustavia’s hand, sank below the surface of the soil which parted beneath them as if it were water. Only a few seconds passed before I saw them pop back up behind an unsuspecting Malachiel where Terra gave the all clear signal. Visibly pale, Gustavia shot me a wan thumbs up. Next, Soleil gave Julie a reassuring grin just before the pair of them dissolved into a beam of sunlight. Seconds later, the two reappeared next to Terra. Evian and Kat followed suit by filtering into the finest of cloud-like mists and slowly wafting upward.
“…rule over humans instead of letting their whims and fancies and free will,” he managed to put air quotes around the term using nothing but the mimicking pitch of his voice, “keep us bound to their service. Higher beings.” He scoffed and brushed absently at the Evian cloud as it drifted by at just above eye level.
My breath caught and held, but I couldn’t afford to let him see my attention wander from his face as the little cloud diffused into wisps that threatened to disperse entirely. Left in an expectant silence, I assumed Mal waited for me to comment on his tirade.
I calculated and said the thing I thought would elicit the highest level of response, “Wow, Mal. Who peed in your Cheerios?” His eyes narrowed at my use of slang, but he got the gist of the question well enough. “You expected an award of some kind?” His dark eyes flashed like lightning and he whipped his head up to glare down his nose at me. The force of his displeasure added just enough speed to the movement that it created a draft to push the lagging tail of mist toward the rest of the diffuse mass, and in a few moments I saw Evian and Kat reappear behind him. Naked fear showed on pale faces, but they were intact.
Now, all that was left was for Estelle and Amethyst to navigate the narrow passage between him and the concrete block building beside him. Over one shoulder, Amethyst made a swirling gesture toward me and my vision abruptly included a clear picture of Mal’s aura. A blackened thing, shriveled to a husk of withered and wrinkled shadow, it dripped and oozed into the space below his wings. Estelle could easily pass over, but not carrying Amethyst.
Malachiel continued to vent his anger. “They call themselves sheep, so you can hardly blame me for thinking the same. Herd animals ready to be penned and slaughtered; their souls will feed the darkness when the balance shifts. We’ll have our pick of them and not just the culls who exercise their so-called free will to choose the path to true freedom.”
Finally, a clue to his motive and it was disturbingly clichéd. History is riddled with stories that illustrate just how fine the balance is between light and dark. Almost every shift happens when someone, or something, tries to subvert free will and alter the definitions of good and evil. Every war, whether human or fae or demon, has its roots buried in the tiny decisions that tip the scales out of balance in either direction. Nothing in all the words is absolute. Nothing in the human world is ever all dark or all light, because that is the only world where free will anchors everything to barely distinguishable shades of gray.
Free will.
Unique to this world, hard to pin down, impossible to predict, and the reason guardian angels exist. Mal was so far off the mark with calling people sheep that it would take a magnifying glass the size of the Hubble to help him find it. Sheep bent to the will of the shepherd’s crook was what he saw. In truth, mortals were the crook—never the sheep.
Meanwhile, the final duo of my group gingerly approached the black curtain of Malachiel’s aura, looking for a vulnerable spot. I traded barbs with him and watched Estelle gauge her chances of getting through. It was Amethyst who pointed toward the trailing edge of his aura where it ebbed and flowed beside an opening that contained a double door. Each time Malachiel geared himself up for another spate of venomous words, he flexed his shoulders and the shallow opening cleared enough for Amethyst and Estelle to nip inside. If they timed it right, they could wait until another bout of ire cleared the doorway and get past him that way.
Poke him again, Estelle’s voice sounded clearly in my head.
I met an exaggerated head nod from Estelle with a slow blink to show I understood the plan, then attempted to infuriate Malachiel with a well-timed insult.
“How novel, a fallen angel with a Napoleon complex. Are you sure you’re up for it, Mal? After all, you washed out of guardianship, so maybe it wasn’t about the sheep; maybe you weren’t bright enough for the job of shepherd.”
I knew I’d been had the second the smirk pulled at his lips. Instead of me stalling him until I could get my people past the perimeter, he had been the one stalling me. Still, his inability to resist mocking me had him folding his arms over his chest, a gesture which actually served my purpose. On nimble feet, Amethyst dodged into the alcove and out the other side, hauling Estelle along behind. Malachiel spread his arms wide just as the two passed out of the doorway—just as his aura fell in a shadowed rush behind them. Now it was only me facing the dark angel and trying to decide what to do next. With a backward glance, the others left me there alone. Just as I hoped they would. With any luck, I’d follow along behind as soon as I could.
“Whatever you’ve done to Julius is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you.” I let my
eyes go cold and bleak, and his triumphant smile faltered a little. Regardless of his current status, Mal knew I could not tell a lie. I also knew he would be able to see it when I let the light of the universe shine on and through my grace. I projected my true form into the air around me. Above my physical head, the shining, energetic counterpart to his dark beauty rose to a height that matched his.
“The powers won’t let you hurt me; I know how those sniveling cowards operate. Forgiveness and love.” He spat the words at me. “Weak sentiments. Once we held power in our hands. Do you remember? We pulled the lightning from the sky, played with it like a toy, and sent it crashing to earth again. We built mountains and tore them down just as fast. Until humans came along and turned us into handmaidens while they poured their wishes into the universe.” Hate dripped off his tongue to scorch the earth. “We were powerful once, but no more. You won’t touch me—they won’t let you.”
Bitterness rose up to match his own, “You get a lot of exercise jumping to conclusions like that?”
He sniffed. He actually sniffed; it was downright unmanly. The laugh I couldn’t hold back turned into a snarl, and when he opened his mouth to make what I was sure would be another stupid remark, I cut him off. “Who are you working with, Mal?”
I was as sure that he wasn’t in this alone as I was that the sun rose in the east.
His mouth snapped shut and I took a step closer. “Come on, you can tell me.” I started naming demons and he took a step back. Something akin to fear crossed his face and I took another step forward.
“You can’t hurt me. I know the powers won’t let you.”
One deep breath, then another calmed and centered me enough that every last particle of angel rose up inside a body not meant to hold that level of energy, and I felt light flowing from every pore as skin and bone and sinew swelled to fit itself to the vision I had already shown. My truest self.
Galmadriel.
Earthbound Wings: An Earthbound Novel (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 6) Page 13
