Airs & Graces: The Angel's Grace Trilogy Book I

by A. J. Downey

  Out of everyone, I think Piorre was the only one of them that would have stuck it out to the end where I was concerned. Lord knows he put up with enough of my screw-ups and bad decisions around the shop in the last five years. Always patient and forever teaching me…goddamn it, I would miss him. I swiped at a stray tear. I sighed out and sniffed.

  “I know you’re there,” I said softly. It felt weird talking to myself, but I wasn’t. At least not really. It was a longshot, but we’d tried just about everything else to this point… The way Tab treated the situation, it was as if once rendered to Grace, or whatever, the Angel stopped being a person and just was some kind of superpower… but what if?

  “Tab said your name was Iaoel.” I pressed on. “It’s a pretty name. Not like Adelaide, stupid old-ass German name for an American girl…” I blinked as images of a modern city flashed through my mind’s eye. I closed my eyes and stood still, an old map unfurling across a scarred wooden tabletop. I squeezed my eyes tight, and the vision settled on the continent of Australia, and I laughed a bit nervously.

  “You mean the city?” I asked, which was promptly followed by the vision of a flower bursting into full bloom. A beautiful, joyous image. I shifted on my feet and let out a slow breath.

  “You’re there, aren’t you? You’re there, and you’re sentient…” Nothing at first. I looked up into the night sky, at the snowcapped mountains, and thought I may be going crazy, that I was so desperate to ‘unfold’ this thing that I was making things up.

  The vision hit me so hard and so fast it swallowed up the night sky and mountain peaks. I stood in front of a mirror, raking my fingers through my long blonde hair over my shoulder, using a silver backed brush to comb through the natural beachy waves the locks fell into. My eyes raised in the glass and met my own, so fiercely blue that my breath caught. Pale, fine-boned, and delicate, my face that wasn’t my face. The satin of the gown I wore clung to my perfect figure. My wings stretched out behind me, snowy white, barely kissed with the golden bronze color along their backs, reminding me strongly of a barn owl’s coloring. I closed my eyes at the somber look of the ones in the glass and heard the echo of my own voice, my real voice ask, “Oh my God, is that what you looked like?”

  I opened my eyes on the reflection in the glass which was smiling and blinked, there was another reflection in the glass now; one with black hair that shone with blue highlights, though his wings weren’t crimson tipped in black. They were as white and pure as freshly fallen snow. I turned abruptly, to face the Tab in the vision, and the vision shattered. I broke out of my reverie long enough to know that he was there for real. You know how you can sometimes feel someone standing there behind you before you can even hear them or see them, and you just somehow know who it is? It was like that, but how I knew it was him had to be a Grace thing – er, Iaoel – because Tab and I hadn’t known each other long enough to be that familiar with one another.

  “Hi,” I said, upon completing my turn. He stepped out from the shadow along the edge of the wall, so I could see him, and nodded at me. He didn’t have his coat on, and for some reason I was mildly surprised that he didn’t have any tattoos on his arms. I don’t know why; I just kind of expected it. I wasn’t disappointed by his muscle definition though. He had good arms. The dark leather of whatever held his knife along his spine blended so well against his new black tank-top that it was barely detectable. Still I could see the edges of the harness over his shoulders, worn along the front of his body like suspenders. He spoke, and it drew my attention away from his chest and back to his face. I caught myself blushing lightly.

  “Hello.” His voice was warm on the cold night air, and I sniffed, my nose beginning to run from the cold, and thought about how to phrase what I had to say.

  “I’ve got some things I want to say.”

  I decided to just be upfront. When he just stood there, liquid gray eyes locking onto mine, I decided to be brave and just go for it. If he wanted to go all imperialistic and aloof on me, then fine. At least I would feel better for getting it out.

  “I’ve had some time to think since we got here, and I owe you an apology,” I started; his expression softened marginally but still remained stoic, so I pressed on. “You’ve done a whole hell of a lot to keep me alive and in one piece, and I’ve been kind of an ungrateful bitch. I’m sorry.” I stepped forward and did the girl thing and hugged him. “Thank you for saving my life, Tabbris. I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and I appreciate that you brought me here and gave me some time to sort some of this shit out.”

  He stood stock still under my touch, like he didn’t know what to do. I don’t think this is what he expected out of me, but it was always so hard to tell. Finally he patted me on my back awkwardly and said, “You’re welcome, Adelaide.”

  I stepped back and shivered. He’d been warm to the touch, and now the night air was just downright cold. I crossed my arms across my stomach, hunched my shoulders a bit, and continued.

  “I was stupid with the car and just taking off like that and…” I really didn’t want to go over that part again. It was embarrassing now that I looked back on it, so I just settled on, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “That’s good,” he said gently. He was looking me over, a slight frown on his face as if trying to decide something. I turned back to the view and looked back over the mountains and star-shot sky. It was really beautiful here. I could still feel him at my back and the silence was growing uncomfortable, so I simply started talking to fill it.

  “I had a dream I was Piorre last night, and some of this shit started to make sense.” He shifted behind me, and I took it as he was getting ready to leave, so I apologized again. “Sorry, but after all of this I have some questions that I just don’t have the tools at my disposal to solve on my own so I have to ask them.”

  I waited and was surprised when he said to me in an almost kind voice, “Ask your questions, Adelaide.”

  “Um, first… why did you come out here?”

  “It is one of the best views from the monastery. Truthfully, like you, I came here to think.”

  “Did you hear me talking?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I don’t think Piorre ever tried it, you know? I don’t think he ever tried talking to her like a person… She is, isn’t she? I mean when people die, we’re taught they go to Heaven, or to Hell, but they’re still them. So, I figured, what if she’s still her but just trapped in my body? What if she’s sentient? And she can hear, see, and understand everything going on?” There was something incredibly horrifying and tragic about that. It left me sad and feeling a little broken thinking about it. I mean how awful!

  “Piorre may well never have tried it. Some people take decades before they master the Grace, and themselves, enough to achieve anything. Some people never do. Grace is like the essence of an Angel. It drags with it the memories of every vessel it has been held in. And the Angel of Visions could, at times, see any number of things, through the eyes of any of God’s children. Unfolding that is a personal journey, different for everyone and different for every Grace. It’s something that can be done in as a little as a moment of clarity, or take as long a lifetime. But I … preferred not to think of Iaoel as awake in the process, since there was no evidence she was before. Did she show you something to make you believe this?”

  “I know it sounds silly, but I figured what could it hurt? I just tried talking to her. You know? I was bitching about my name and the next thing I know I’m seeing a city and then a map and then Australia on the map. There’s a city named Adelaide in Australia, did you know that?”

  “Yes,” he said, bemused. I shivered, and he stepped up at my back. His hands smoothed down my arms and back up to bring warmth, and his wings unfurled, surrounding us to cut the chill breeze. I reached out a fingertip and lightly, ever so gently, traced the edge of one of the long flight feathers.

  “What does it mean? The dark colors?” I asked, momentarily distra
cted by them.

  “I would rather not talk about that, I am more interested in what Iaoel has shown you,” he said.

  “If it had been anything about what you’re looking for, I would have told you straight off. I get it. The fate of humanity is resting squarely on my shoulders and my fucked up decision making skills. You’ve been pretty clear on that, and I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I’m not as vain and insipid…” I reached up and dashed at the moisture under my eyes. Tab had gone very still at my back, and I waited for the latest tongue-lashing, but none came. I turned inside the circle of his wings and looked up into his face. His hands resting lightly on my upper arms. He looked hurt, almost, which was real rich, but whatever.

  “It was mostly just girl talk. She can’t communicate with me in words, it’s not like she has a voice, so it’s mostly just sights. I thought I was going crazy, and I asked if it was really her or if I was making this shit up. I desperately want to be useful here, I just wasn’t sure. Then I got this image of a flower blooming and then… then I saw her.”

  “You saw her?” he asked, looking perplexed.

  “Well a vision of her anyways, she was standing in front of a mirror, brushing her long blonde hair. Then you were there, reflected behind her in the glass, and the vision shattered, and you were here behind me in real life. It was weird though, because in the vision I was her. I was looking at myself in the mirror and… did you know her, Tab? Like, was that something from the past? Because your wings were white, and so were hers, except yours were all white, and hers looked bronzed on the backs…” I shut up. Tab looked like he was almost physically pained for a moment, then that frightening color shift happened in his eyes.

  “Do not play with her, Iaoel,” he uttered, his tone full of warning.

  I had a flash of someone laughing, head thrown back, sun glinting off their hair, mirth sparkling in their eyes. Blue eyes, black hair, a woman – I told Tab this, and his face crushed down further into a frown.

  “Adelaide…”

  “I really wish you would call me Addy,” I sighed.

  Tab looked at me pointedly. “Adelaide, I know I haven’t given you much cause to trust me, simply pulling you from one dire situation to the next as I have had to do, but believe me… You must use your best judgement when it comes to the things that Iaoel shows you. She most certainly is not to be trusted, at least not entirely.” His look was so shuttered, yet so sincere I found myself nodding.

  “There seems to be a lot of that going around. The Archangels, you, Lucifer – ” he stopped me abruptly with a gentle shake of my shoulders, his fingers digging slightly.

  “You saw the Prince of Lies?” he demanded. “When?”

  “At the beach, before you showed up in the back seat of my car, I told him to fuck right off. He thought that was a riot, let me tell you. Then he sicced he-who-was-in-serious-need-of-dental-work on me, and I had to take off.”

  “You told Lucifer to…” He cleared his throat.

  “Get bent? In a New York minute. It was weird too, because I knew who he was. He showed up as this pretty boy, but I knew exactly who he was. I thought it was a Grace thing, but maybe I’m smarter than I give myself credit for. I mean the amulet was glowing like I was holding one of those – ” I rolled my eyes up to the stars. “ – in my hand, and the thunder that went down when he showed up walking across the waves was so loud I thought I was gonna suffer some permanent hearing loss.”

  His brow was really furrowed by that point, and he sighed, his grip lessening on my arms. He ran his hands up and down them again, and even with standing at a close proximity and the buffer of his wings, I was growing cold. He looked down at me and nodded faintly.

  “I fear our time here is growing quickly to an end,” he said. “It is likely that we will be found sooner rather than later. We will need to relocate fairly quickly.”

  “I’m on board, I want to be far away before either side gets even an inkling that I’m here. I don’t want all of these people put into a hurt locker for letting us regroup.”

  “Agreed,” he stated flatly, then asked me, “Is that the last of your questions? Have you anything else you wish to tell me?”

  I told him about the vision I had on the beach, of the sand trickling through my fingers, how it felt decidedly Middle Eastern by the architecture of the ruins I’d been looking at. I finished with, “The last question I have for now, which might spawn other questions when you answer it, is this: why are both sides so keen on destroying us? What do they hope to accomplish?”

  I studied his face for as long as I could, but I was getting a crick in my neck at this angle, and he was as unreadable as ever, so I finally looked forward, my eyes now at the level of his chest. He pushed me back half a pace gently by my shoulders and looked me in the eyes, answering me directly.

  “I’d hoped all this would be quick. That it might end up just seeming like a bad dream,” he sighed softly and with feeling, his eyes closing briefly before he looked at me again. “There’s a precarious balance that keeps the forces of Heaven and Hell…well, not on Earth. Iaoel had an interest in the keys to the Gates of Heaven and Hell, in unleashing the holy hosts upon the Earth. Apparently, she had some success in terms of learning the keys’ location.”

  “Michael.” I covered my mouth with my hands and looked at him, startled, before dropping them. “Sorry. I thought of Michael, all winged-up, with keys. Was that the Grace?” I said, a little frightened. Tab frowned but nodded.

  “He used to have them. He’s supposed to have them, at least so he believes.” He shrugged, a slight crease forming between his brows.

  “Why doesn’t he, then?” I closed my eyes, silently cursed myself and my never-ending questions, and made to turn away. He stopped me, grip on my shoulders firming, and drew me that half step closer to keep me warm. I shivered anyways. I was not dressed to be out here. Period.

  “No, you have a right to know. You didn’t ask for this, and this isn’t your war. It’s mine.” He let his hands graze down my arms and took up my hands. “A lot of humans will be called upon, and each is going to decide how they will react. Right now, out there, there are others in similar situations. I know that this doesn’t seem fair, but the fate of your entire species will be decided by your actions and the actions of these others.”

  I sighed. “Well, that’s comforting.”

  “As I said before, I realize that it’s not fair, but – ”

  I interrupted him, putting on a brave front. “Yeah, well, no one ever said life was fair.”

  He pressed on as if I hadn’t spoken out of turn. “Fair or not, you’ll have some big decisions to make.”

  I thought about it for a little while, and swallowed hard; I looked up into the Angel’s face and said. “Well, right now we need a plan on how to proceed. Did you and Master Yin come up with anything?”

  “We are working on an idea, which is why you need to determine where you stand in this.”

  “Right now, I don’t want either side getting their mitts on this thing,” I said.

  His face became a different kind of stoic then, almost serene, and he said to me, “Then hold tight, Adelaide. We’re working on some of the big details now. You’ll hear from me soon.” He withdrew his wings, and the frigid mountain air rushed in. I nodded and took back my hands.

  “Hopefully you can work them out; I don’t want my being here putting these people at any more risk.”

  He rewarded me with another of his smiles and put a hand on my back, gently pushing me towards the doorway back into the Temple. I went in, and he followed, walking with me silently. I nodded good-night as I stopped at my door and bent, picking up my dime. I went into my room, quickly diving under the thick quilt. I shivered for a moment and rubbed my feet together, trying to generate some warmth in them. I fell asleep quickly, I think, because all too soon, the Temple’s great bell reverberated dawn’s far too early arrival.

  I went to morning meditation, then to breakfast, the whole
time thinking hard on what Tab had said the night before. I tried again to cultivate calm, although I am afraid I was somewhat less successful than I had been the day before. I was aware when the chanting stopped and everyone began to move. I again participated in a round of the Tai Chi in the courtyard and felt a little bit closer to what I had achieved the day before, but to be honest I think I was overthinking it, and all that got me was further from my goal, which was really damn important.

  Mei-Lei took me through the Temple gardens and orchards. I made sure to thank her for everything she had done for me and with me the last couple of days, knowing that my time here was drawing to a close. Tab and Master Yin didn’t call for me at all, and I went to bed a little worried and a little frustrated.

  My sleep was uneasy. I dreamt about the antique shop again, but the dream was entirely my own. When I got up the next morning, it wasn’t to the sound of the Temple’s bell. I really don’t know what had woke me up. I was just awake and had no desire to go back to sleep. I turned over and was surprised to see my Docs on the floor and pleased to see my jacket, a little worse for wear, hanging on the back of the chair. I got up and found my jeans, stained but clean, neatly folded on the table. A new black microfiber shirt was underneath them. It had a mock turtleneck to it and was sleeveless. It looked like something you would work out in. I’m not sure who was responsible for it, but if I had to guess, I would say it had to be Tab because it wasn’t Mei-Lei’s style. I liked it, a lot, but still, the midnight blue, Chinese silk shirt was on the table too, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to wear it while I was in the Temple or what.