by Sharon Shinn
“Even I would be tempted to go out there, if someone would be willing to have such an old bag as a partner,” Hope murmured to me.
David instantly offered his arm. “You could dance with me,” he said.
Hope laughed, charmed and delighted. I smiled. It was for just such easy courtesies that I found David so likable.
“Then let’s dance,” Hope said.
Hara and Sheba quickly paired up with the Danfrees boys, and I was left standing beside Joseph.
“I hope you aren’t too disappointed,” he said. “But ever since I broke my foot five years ago, I find it painful to dance. Not that I was ever too interested in it before,” he added.
“Not disappointed at all,” I said. “I’d rather watch.”
I stayed about an hour, long enough to see Sheba rotate through four partners, all of them young men that I knew. Even the many strangers on the floor did not alarm me, for they all looked like hardworking farm boys happy to be away from the fields for a night and eager to make a good impression on local girls. I saw a few Edori in the crowd, as brightly dressed and lighthearted as any of the farmhands, but I had no objection to Edori, either. They were wanderers—a little feckless, a touch irresponsible—but generally peaceable and honest people, and I would never expect them to offer harm to a stranger.
There were no Jansai at the dance. And no angels. No one I would view with suspicion or alarm.
Once Hope and I were satisfied that our charges were in no danger, she and her husband and I made our way back to the inn. I was comfortably exhausted, and Hope yawned with every other footstep.
“When do you leave for the Eyrie?” I asked through a yawn of my own.
“The day after tomorrow,” Joseph answered. “I figure it will take us about a week to get there, if we don’t push the horses too hard.”
“When are you leaving for the farm?” Hope asked.
“Tomorrow around noon. There will be plenty to do by the time we get home.”
Hope sighed. “I don’t even want to think about the work that will pile up while we’re traveling, even though the boys are going back home instead of on to Velora. We’ll be gone nearly three weeks!”
“You’ll love every minute of it,” I said. “Buy yourself something pretty in Velora.”
We separated to our individual rooms, and I was in bed scarcely ten minutes after I shut the door. Not asleep, however—though I felt like I was dreaming, as if I might have been dreaming this entire day.
Stephen had found me. Stephen still loved me. Stephen was back in my life.
What had I done to deserve, at such a point in my existence, such felicity, such joy? How could someone so flawed be heaped with such riches? Why had the god placed his finger on my heart—why had he spoken my name?
I was not used to praying. I had not often turned to Jovah, either to seek comfort or beg forgiveness. But tonight I whispered my fervent thanks and promised I would never take my good fortune for granted. And then I snuggled deeper into my pillow and spent the night dreaming about my angel lover.
I slept late, but Sheba slept later. She only mumbled an incoherent reply when I asked her if she was interested in breakfast, so I left her alone and went down to the inn’s taproom to see what was on hand. Hope was there by herself, since her sons were also recovering from a late night and Joseph had gone to see about the horses. After our meal, we sallied out to investigate what new wonders might be offered in Laban on the second day of the festival. Naturally, we ended up back in the market area, sorting through jewels and trinkets and fabrics.
“I know I will want to spend money in Velora, but I can’t resist this cloth. It’s so utterly blue,” Hope said.
“Buy it. Or you will be thinking about it the rest of your life,” I advised. “Which is the very reason I’m going to purchase these red gloves. Completely impractical! But I love them.”
I would have shopped happily with Hope for the rest of the day, but I knew the wagons would be leaving for the farm within the next couple of hours, and I might need to roust Sheba out of bed. Hope returned to the inn with me and went off to show Joseph her latest purchases. I opened the door to my own room, talking before I was even inside.
“Time to get up and get dressed, sleepy girl,” I said cheerfully.
But I was speaking to myself.
No Sheba drowsed in the bed or stood by the vanity, combing out her hair. My first thought was that she must be downstairs getting breakfast, but then I was struck by the quality of emptiness in the room. None of her shoes were lying in the middle of the floor, where I had tripped over them a dozen times. None of her dresses thrown over the back of a chair. Her suitcase was missing from the foot of her bed.
I kept staring around blankly. I had a hard time understanding that Sheba was gone. Why would she leave? Where would she go?
She had clearly planned her departure carefully and deliberately, slipping out with all her possessions during the short time I was out. Giving me no hint of what she might be intending. Wherever she had gone, it was obviously someplace that she knew would earn my violent disapproval.
Even as I had the thought, my eyes fell on an object she had left lying on her pillow. My stomach cramped with sudden horror. My skin grew cold.
It was a bracelet, a thick, smooth silver band set with an unbroken string of rubies. Rubies to signify the angel was from Windy Point.
This particular pattern to identify the Archangel himself.
Sheba had run away with Raphael.
Five
After all, I knew exactly what I must do.
Perhaps I had been planning for this moment for half my life—not even knowing it—coming up with a strategy for how I would rescue Sheba from Windy Point. Certainly the goal that had guided my existence for the past fourteen years had been keeping Sheba safe, and in my mind, she could never be in greater danger than she would be if she threw her lot in with angels. To be more specific, the most dangerous decision she could ever make would be placing herself at the mercy of Raphael.
All this time, I must have expected it to happen. Or feared it so greatly that I already knew what my next move would be.
So calmly I could hardly believe it possible, I went in search of the inn’s proprietor and asked for paper and ink. Back in my room, I wrote out a simple letter in a single draft and sealed it with wax from one of the candles in the wall sconce. I bundled all my own belongings into the battered bag that I had owned since I first left home at the age of sixteen. There were still a few items rattling around on the bottom that I had never bothered to take out. A comb missing half its teeth, a hair ribbon I could still use in dire emergency, old toiletries, dried-up cosmetics. I locked the empty room behind me and stepped down the hall to knock on Hope’s door.
Perhaps my expression wasn’t quite as tranquil as I believed, because the instant she saw me, Hope drew me into the room and demanded to know what was wrong.
“Sheba has left with Raphael,” I said.
“No! Salome, that’s dreadful news! Are you certain? Did anyone see them go?”
Joseph, who had been standing across the room, strode over. “Do you want me to make inquiries?”
I shook my head. “It’s not necessary. She left me a message.”
“What are you going to do?” Hope asked.
“Is there anything to do?” Joseph said more practically. “Assuming she went willingly—”
“I believe she did.” Sheba was a very smart girl. If she had been taken from the room by force, she would have found a way to let me know.
Joseph shrugged. “Then she has made her choice, and neither she nor Raphael will welcome your interference.”
“If she had left with any other angel, I might sit back. I might say, ‘Let her decide how she will spend or waste her life.’ But not Raphael. I cannot let him have her.”
Hope gave me a sharp look. “That’s a strange thing to say. What do you know about the Archangel that should worry us?”
Hope took it from me willingly enough, but her face showed even more astonishment and curiosity. “Of course, but—Salome—where are you going? What are you planning?”
“What’s in the letter?” Joseph wanted to know.
I shook my head again, a small, despairing smile shaping my lips. “News that I think the next Archangel should have, maybe. And maybe not. I am going to Windy Point to ask Raphael to release my niece. If he does, I will have him fly me to Velora, and I will take my letter from your hand. If he doesn’t—then I will stay at Windy Point and Gabriel will know what I have written. It will be up to Raphael.”
“We’ll be staying at my brother’s house. His name is Adam Danfrees,” Joseph said.
“I’ll write down the address for you,” Hope said, hurrying across the room.
“Then I will head straight to Adam’s house when I arrive,” I said. “If I arrive.”
In a minute, Hope came back and pressed a scrap of paper in my hand. “How will you get to Windy Point? Do you want us to drive you there?”
I shook my head. “I want you to go to Velora with my message. I will find some means of transportation.”
Hope was still watching me. “Are you in danger? Should I insist on accompanying you while Joseph goes on to Velora?”
Would I be in danger? That was an interesting question. I honestly didn’t know the answer. “I’ll be fine,” I said. “I hope to see you at Adam’s house within the week.”
I picked up my suitcase and left the room, while Hope called farewells after me. Downstairs in the innyard, I found two of the four wagons that had come to Laban from Thaddeus’s farm. The horses were already hitched and some of the other workers had thrown their belongings in the back.
Hara and Adriel were crowding close to David, who stood at the head of his team, feeding apples to the horses. The young women were giggling and flirting; it was clear they intended to ride back to the farm in his vehicle.
“Girls, I need you to deliver a message to Thaddeus for me,” I said. “I must go after Sheba, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
Naturally, that elicited cries from the girls and a sudden intentness from David. “Go after Sheba,” he repeated. “Where did she go?”
“To Windy Point,” I said baldly. “And I want to fetch her back.”
The girls squealed again, although this time their voices were tinged with envy. David’s expression turned grim. “Windy Point,” he said.
“If anyone comes to the farm looking for me,” I added, “tell him where I’ve gone.”
Oh, Jovah only knew what Stephen would think if he arrived at the compound to find I had run back to Windy Point the instant he left me. He would be furious—he would be disgusted—he would feel betrayed, again, again, again. But, assuming he had spoken the truth and he really intended to come for me the minute he could leave Monteverde, he would almost certainly be at the farm before I could get back from Velora.
If I ever made it to Velora. If I was not able to blackmail Raphael into tossing Sheba aside, I would never leave Windy Point.
Hara was staring at me. “Who would come looking for you?” she said, honestly puzzled. I had never receivd visitors the whole time Sheba and I had lived there. I had told everyone that the rest of my family was dead. Of course, that didn’t answer the question about why I had no friends, but no one had been rude enough to ask it out loud.
“There is an angel named Stephen,” I said. “He and I have—business—to discuss. I believe he will come looking for me within the next two weeks. Please make sure he knows where I’ve gone. Please make sure he knows that I have gone after my niece. I wouldn’t want him to think that I had left for any trivial reason.”
Hara nodded, but she still looked so dumbfounded that I didn’t think I could rely on her to convey accurate information to anyone. I turned to David. “Will you make sure Thaddeus is informed of my whereabouts?” I asked him. “And if Stephen comes looking for me, will you tell him my story?”
David appeared to come to a quick decision. “No,” he said. “I’m going with you to Windy Point.”
“What?” Adriel cried.
“We’re riding back with you!” Hara exclaimed. “All our things are in the wagon!”
“Well, you’ll just have to go in one of the other carts,” David said. “There’s plenty of room.”
“I would welcome your company, but you don’t have to take me there,” I said.
He gave the horses one last pat and strode around to the back of the wagon, where he started unloading the girls’ suitcases. I saw that they had also accumulated a large number of parcels, no doubt filled with items purchased at the fair. Hara and Adriel trailed behind him, bleating their dismay, but he ignored them completely. Once all their possessions were neatly stacked in the yard, he faced me.
“When can you leave?”
“I’m ready now.”
He picked up my bag and threw it in the back of the wagon. “Then let’s go.”
It was a three-day trip from Laban to Windy Point. David and I accomplished much of it in silence. Strangely, this led me to like him even more. I watched him covertly as he guided the horses. His face was thoughtful and determined, but not furrowed in rage or bitterness. Despite the fact that he was clearly eager to get to our destination, he never pushed the horses too hard or expressed frustration when bad roads or slow-moving travelers forced us to slacken our pace. He spoke to me with unfailing courtesy and always made sure I was comfortable before we set out in the mornings. In fact, he reinforced every favorable impression I had ever had of him. This was the kind of man—if not, in fact, the man—that I had always hoped Sheba would be wise enough to marry.
I said as much to him on the second day. We were leaving the very small roadside inn where we had spent the night, me in the only room available and David in the barn, sleeping in the wagon. I don’t think he had given a second’s thought to what kind of accommodations we might seek on the road; I doubted he had more than a few coins to his name. But I was flush with money. I had hoarded my salary for the past ten years and I could have afforded almost any room in all of Samaria for as long as I wished to stay. I paid for our food, I paid for our beds, and I had the feeling my solvency impressed David almost as much as his maturity impressed me.
“What I regret most about Sheba’s ill-advised action,” I said abruptly, after we had traveled two hours without speaking, “is that it will change how you view her. She is young to be thinking of marriage, but I always hoped she would think about you when the time came. And now I am very much afraid that you will no longer think of her when you’re looking for a wife.”
He glanced at me. It seemed to me that his gray eyes were confident and wise. “One of the things that always drew me to Sheba was her—her brightness. The intensity with which she lived life, with which she desired things. She wants glamour and passion and excitement. She thinks she’ll get it with the angels. You think she’s ruined her life. What you don’t understand is that she hasn’t changed. She’s no different from the person I’ve always loved. I can’t hate her for being so true to her soul.”
“That’s generous,” I said in a subdued voice.
He shrugged. “That’s just how I feel.”
We continued on for a few moments in silence. “I don’t think she understands what awaits her at Windy Point,” I said at last. “If she had chosen Monteverde or even the Eyrie—I might not have gone after her. But Windy Point is different. Raphael is different. I can’t let her stay there.”
He nodded. “Do you have any idea how you will get into Windy Point? Isn’t it at the top of a mountain?”
“Oh,” I said, “I’ve always been able to find my way into an angel hold. Don’t you worry about that.”
It can’t be said often enough: Windy Point isn’t like the other holds. Not just because it is in such an inhospitable spot—the Eyrie is also in a remote location—but because it seems to thrive on its inaccessibility. There is no friendly, bustling town like Velora nestled at the foot of the mountain, ready to accommodate travelers and provide services to the angels. Oh, people do congregate there at the foothills. There are a few impermanent-looking shacks where you can find shelter for the night and buy necessary goods, but it’s not like there’s a thriving independent city where any reasonable person would want to spend any time. A few Jansai caravans are usually drawn up at the base of the mountains—petitioners from across the region are usually camped out, waiting for an angel to appear and address their concerns—and young women are always there by the dozens. Pretty, polished, determined, and foolish young women.
Angel-seekers, hoping someone will fly them up to the hold.
What you don’t see all that often, here at the base of the mountain, is angels. Raphael has always been a little cavalier about his duties to the people of Jordana, the province for which, theoretically, Windy Point is responsible. Petitioners from all over Jordana come to the hold with one request or another. Sometimes they have disputes they want the angels to adjudicate, but more often they are looking for the kind of assistance only angels can provide. They want angels to come to their homesteads and pray for rain, or for the cessation of rain; they want angels to pray for seeds or medicines, which—when the appropriate song is performed—come pelting to the ground with the force of hail. In other words, they want the angels to intercede with the god on their behalf.
The angels from Monteverde and the Eyrie constantly fly out to ask the god for weather or drugs or grain. On any given day, those holds might be half empty. And at the Eyrie, or so I have been told, Gabriel encourages his angels to routinely fly over the open land, peering down from above, looking out for signs of trouble both subtle and overt. Is there flooding? Is there fire? Have residents of some small farming community raised a plague flag, which is the sign that the mortals below are in dire need of assistance? I would guess Ariel sends the Monteverde angels out quite often in such a manner as well.
