Angels Falling

by Harriet Carlton

  Imorean scoffed quietly, but the sound lacked any venom. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. I want you in my office at twelve o’clock today, but in the meantime, go back to bed. There are still several hours to pass with sleep.”

  Imorean smiled, the expression pulling one side of his mouth. Michael may be his commander, but he was also the closest thing to family he had left. “Thank you.”

  “Twelve o’clock, Imorean. Do not be late.”

  “I won’t be,” replied Imorean.

  Chapter 7

  Tempting thermals pulled at Imorean’s wings as he soared toward The Main. After his conversation with Michael, he had slept peacefully and without a single dream. It had been a relief. Imorean tucked and rolled, laughing to himself. The day was warm and clear. The wide-open sky beckoned him. Waterways were the fastest track between the campuses, but today, he had taken the inland path. Rising over mountain peaks with the sun on his back made him feel free. Careless and unafraid. Below him, the mountains dropped away into a fjord, a silver ripple of water from Imorean’s height, giving way to the small, flat campus of The Main. With a grin, he tucked his wings up over his shoulders and dove. The air screamed around him as he streaked down toward the earth. Pure freedom infected him, an elastic feeling in his heart. He rocked backward, adjusting the angle of his dive, and heard the air whistle against his primary feathers.

  With a judder that ran up his legs, Imorean landed on The Main’s red brick pathways. It was late morning, but all the dew had not quite vanished from the grass. The campus was quiet, and Imorean narrowed his eyes. Too quiet. What was going on? Was it the weekend? It had to be. The Main was never this quiet. Imorean shook his head and folded his wings. He paused and checked his watch. One hour before he needed to meet Michael. He smiled and nodded to himself, then struck out across the campus.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Imorean approached Roxy’s bed as quietly as he could. The hospital wing was near silent this morning, Roxy the only occupant left. She was asleep, her black and dyed-blue hair tousled on her pillow. He crumpled the top of the paper bag in his hand.

  “Roxy,” whispered Imorean, setting down the bag on her bedside table. He smiled as her eyes opened, and she blinked hard. She rubbed them a few times, then returned his smile. Relief felt as though it might set Imorean’s blood aflame. Alive. She was alive.

  “What are you doing here? I thought Raphael told you to stay away until I was ready to be discharged.”

  “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I brought you something.”

  “You know I like surprises,” said Roxy with a grin.

  Imorean unrolled the top of the bag and passed her a milkshake and a bagel. “I didn’t know exactly what you’d want from the dining hall, so I just kind of spitballed.”

  “‘Morean, you’re a saint,” said Roxy. “But what are you really doing here?”

  “Am I not allowed to bring my best friend food?” chuckled Imorean. All the same, he looked away.

  “What’s on your mind?” asked Roxy.

  “We’re putting the squad back together. Do you still want in?”

  “Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?” asked Roxy. Imorean’s eyes flicked to her stomach. He hadn’t meant to address her injury, but the memory of Vortigern’s attack on her was still fresh in his mind. He was sure it was in Roxy’s, too.

  “Imorean,” said Roxy. He shuffled his wings but didn’t look at her. She put a hand on his wrist. “That’s not going to happen again.”

  Imorean turned back to her. “I’m worried, Roxy. Are you sure you want to be back on the squad?”

  “Positive. There’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’m not leaving you, Imorean.”

  “I sort of figured,” replied Imorean. He felt his heart sink slightly. Maybe a new squad with people he didn’t care as much about would have been a better idea.

  “What else is going on?” asked Roxy. “I know that look in your eyes. There’s something you’re not saying.”

  Imorean paused. Roxy had always been his confidant. “I went out on my own last night. Flying.”

  “And?”

  “I saw Toddy.”

  “What?!”

  “Calm down. I think it might have been a trick of the light. It was really dark, but … I saw Toddy, or what looked like Toddy, under the water around The Terrace.”

  “Do you think he’s alive?”

  “Michael doesn’t think so.”

  “Well, that answer would have been really useful if I’d been asking Michael, but I’m not. I’m asking you, Imorean. What do you think?”

  Imorean shook his head. “I don’t know. In a way, I hope not. There’s no telling what Vortigern could have done to Toddy in just a few weeks. As his friend, though, I hope against hope that he’s alive.”

  Roxy fell into silence and Imorean checked his watch.

  “I’ve gotta go, Roxy. Michael wants to talk to me about something. God only knows what, though.”

  “Well, good luck. Raphael says I’ll be out of here really soon, so I’ll probably see you back at The Terrace in the next few days.”

  Imorean smiled and a warmth filled his chest. “I look forward to it.”

  “You better,” said Roxy, tearing into her bagel.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Imorean approached the door to Michael’s office, raising one hand to knock. Before his knuckles hit the wood, the door swung open of its own accord. Imorean dropped his hand and entered the office. Michael was seated behind his desk, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.

  “Sit down,” said Michael, not looking up.

  “On Planet Earth, we say good morning. You knew I was here, I guess,” said Imorean, taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

  Michael tapped the side of his head distractedly. Imorean glanced away. Of course Michael could sense his presence – good old mental link. White wings rustled against the back of the chair as Imorean shrugged away his annoyance. There were days that he wished his and Michael’s connection was less one-sided. He flinched as Michael slammed his pen down with a snort.

  “Who’s got under your skin?” asked Imorean.

  Michael passed a hand over the paper, and Imorean raised a brow as the paper wavered, then disappeared.

  “Kerubiel, Cherubim and angel politics,” snarled Michael when the paper had vanished from the desk. “Do not concern yourself. They are my worry.”

  Imorean nodded, watching the tension ease from Michael’s shoulders. “Have you thought any more about Toddy? Or about what I saw this morning?”

  “I have, but we will address that later. For now, we have something to discuss.”

  Imorean couldn’t help feeling taken offset. What could be more important than his friend? “Okay. What?”

  “Summer arrangements,” said Michael, folding his hands on the top of his desk.

  Imorean’s stomach turned. He hadn’t thought about his summer. He hadn’t wanted to. The truth was, he had nowhere to go. He had no living relatives left. No one. He had no one. As if he needed reminding.

  “I wondered when you were going to bring that up,” said Imorean. His voice was quieter than he had expected.

  “Well, I have been working with some of the guardian angels to figure out how and when to send the students home for the summer. You are an unusual case.”

  “What are you planning?” asked Imorean.

  “What would you like?”

  Imorean shrugged. “I have no idea. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “I cannot exactly send you home to no one. Do you wish to stay here at Upper Morvine? A few students will be taking summer classes. It may be a good chance for you to catch up on your academics.”

  “For what degree?” scoffed Imorean. “I’m not exactly going to be coming out of here with any useful qualifications.”

  “I am glad you think so highly of the training we have given you,” said Michael. His green eyes narrowed dangerously and Imorean
looked away. “I need something to work with, Imorean. I cannot leave you here with no plan in mind.”

  “Well, what are you and the rest of the Archangels going to be doing over the summer?”

  “We typically post a guard over the students then return to the field.”

  “Wait. I thought we were artifact hunting?”

  “If you decide you are ready. That depends on you. For now, there is no rush.”

  “Can’t you take me in the field with you over the summer?”

  Michael folded his hands tighter. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if we encounter Vortigern, I cannot be distracted by you. We have already seen that the results are disastrous. He is aware of the connection we share, he is more than willing to use it to his advantage.”

  “That’s your own fault.”

  Imorean faltered as he felt a wave of aggression wash over him. Michael’s eyes were angry. “Watch your tongue, Frayneson. My patience has already been worn thin this morning. This is my last warning.”

  “Sorry,” replied Imorean. He took a deep breath. “What do you have in mind?”

  “How would you feel about returning to Baffin Island? To Felsenmeer?”

  Imorean’s heart skipped a beat. Felsenmeer. The only place that had felt like home throughout all of his angel training. “Is that a possibility?”

  “Were it not, I would not have suggested it. If so, we can start you looking for artifacts sooner than we anticipated.”

  “I’m ready, but what about the others? My friends? What about them?”

  Michael inclined his head. “What about them?”

  “Well, we all decided to work together as a squad again. Wouldn’t they be coming back to Felsenmeer, too? And come out to do god hunting stuff with me?”

  “Yes, after a short time. They must have a summer break, too, and I am sure that they miss their homes.”

  Imorean heard the unsaid half of Michael’s statement. Their homes and their families. He blinked hard. It wasn’t like he didn’t miss his own. He gathered himself.

  “Felsenmeer would be great. If I can go back there, I’d really like to.”

  “I will make the arrangements.”

  “Thanks. So, back to Felsenmeer … when?”

  “After everyone else has gone home. I will be escorting the North Carolina students home this time.”

  Imorean’s heart felt as though it had been seized in a steel trap. An unspoken question hung in the air. He swallowed hard. He hadn’t been home to North Carolina since Christmas. Not since his family had been murdered. He looked away from Michael.

  “Imorean? Would you like to accompany me back to North Carolina? Before we press on to Felsenmeer?”

  Imorean shrugged. His shoulders felt tight and stiff.

  “If not, Raphael can make the trip to Felsenmeer with you.”

  “Can I have some time to make up my mind?” asked Imorean, addressing the window rather than Michael. His voice was much harsher than he had intended. Inwardly cringing, he braced himself for some reprimand. A few seconds slid past. He looked back at Michael, whose green eyes were shrouded with some strange emotion. One that Imorean couldn’t place.

  “You may have a few days to decide,” said Michael.

  “Thanks,” nodded Imorean. He swallowed hard. “And in the meantime?”

  “I have something for us to do. While you and I cannot be in the field at the same time as each other when fighting Vortigern, I see no reason why I cannot guide you through the first mission to gather the artifacts. And now that you plan to make a return to Felsenmeer, we can proceed as I had hoped.”

  “When do we leave?” asked Imorean, perking up.

  “In two days’ time, so be standing by. I will notify Raphael and Gabriel and we will make ready to leave.”

  Imorean nodded and stood. He moved toward the door, but paused when Michael spoke up again. “And, Imorean, make sure you are armed when we leave. We travel with swords out this time.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Predawn was Imorean’s favorite time of day. It was the quietest. The world was still at rest. This morning, there was a sense of excitement in the air. Imorean dressed quickly. This was the morning. He checked himself in the mirror. Aside from needing a haircut, he looked fine. His uniform was pristine and any changes of clothes he might need were already packed away. He moved, picking up the AL Pack by his bedroom door. Looking more like a belt than anything else, the AL Packs had been specially designed to hold all the extra items an angel in the field might need, without adding any extra bulk, weight, or getting in the way of wings during flight. Gathering himself, Imorean left his room. He blinked in surprise. The living room lights were already on. Someone was waiting for him.

  “Ryan?” asked Imorean, confused. He’d never seen Ryan surface before nine, unless forced.

  “You’re leaving?” asked Ryan.

  “Not for long.”

  Ryan raised his eyebrows. “To do what?”

  Imorean narrowed his eyes. “Why do you need to know?”

  “I don’t, but if you’re going to have us back on as your squad, you need to start telling us things.”

  “I’m not hiding anything.” He was angry. Who was Ryan to pry?

  “Oh, yeah? Like the fact that you saw Toddy under the fjord surface the other night on your secret flight?”

  Imorean balked for a moment. “How did you know about that?”

  “Roxy, my girlfriend, told me.”

  Huffing, Imorean folded his arms. “No one else needed to know about that.”

  “Imorean, that’s exactly the point. Not everything is on a ‘need-to-know’ basis. I know you’ve had a lot happen to you over the last semester what with your family, Vortigern and all the stunts Michael’s pulled with you, but you need to start acting like you trust us. How are we supposed to trust that you’ve given us the details of a mission if you’re not telling us things now. Trust goes both ways, you know.”

  Wings sagged as Imorean sighed. He didn’t have an answer. The problem was, Ryan was right.

  Ryan sighed sharply and plunged on. “I don’t mean to come off as nasty, I really don’t, but me, Colton, and Baxter, we’re getting pretty annoyed with not being in the know. I know you’re a mini-Michael, but don’t turn into him. You don’t have to tell us everything, but a little more openness from you … well, that would be great.”

  Imorean nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this, Ryan. I’m just … I don’t know. I’ll fill you in on everything when I get back, okay?”

  “No pressure, man. I just wanted to make sure you knew how we all felt, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I got it,” said Imorean. He sensed that the conversation was over and moved toward the door. A strange sense of shame had settled around his shoulders. In trying to defend his friends, he had cast a gap between them. He pushed open the door and felt Ryan’s eyes on him. “I’ll see you guys in a few days, yeah?”

  “Cool. Good luck.”

  “I’ll need it.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Imorean landed hard on the campus of The Main. He was late. Ryan had held him up. On the center of the campus green, he spotted Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. He landed beside Gabriel, a short distance away from Raphael and Michael.

  “Sorry I’m late. Ryan kept me. We needed to clear the air a little.”

  “Well, I hope it was worth it,” said Gabriel. “Michael’s in a vile temper.”

  “What’s new? He’s always in a vile temper.”

  “You don’t understand, Imorean. We’re dealing with a different kind of opponent this time. He’s on edge.”

  Michael’s angry voice rang across the green. “Are we ready yet?”

  Imorean watched as Michael took off into the sky before waiting for a response. Raphael was already close behind him. He exchanged a glance with Gabriel, who gave him a small smile. Before Imorean could say a word, Gabriel, too, had leaped into the air. He t
ook a deep breath. This was his first time flying with the Archangels alone and something told him that the road ahead would be neither simple nor easy.

  Chapter 8

  The sun turned the late spring mountaintops gold, its morning warmth pushing fog up from the valleys and fjords. Imorean breathed hard as he held his place in their formation. A small diamond and he made up one corner. For now, Michael was at the front, breaking the headwind. They were moving at a good pace. Imorean took a deep breath, trying to catch his second wind, and glanced at the other Archangels to distract himself. Raphael was pink in the face from flying. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today. Imorean smiled. Raphael’s glasses were fake, and he only wore them for aesthetics. Gabriel looked like the mirror image of Michael, eyes forward and solid, a near identical glare on his face. There was something bothering the younger Archangel, but Imorean had no idea what. Normally, nothing bothered Gabriel. Brown eyes turned forward, locking onto Michael. All four of Michael’s wings beat hard, cutting the air. He was the only angel Imorean had ever met who had four wings. He was also the only angel that Imorean knew who always carried two swords. The morning sun glimmered off the metal hilts. Imorean’s mind drifted, noticing that one of the sword handles was more hexagonal than the other. The crosstree hilt looked more archaic than others he had seen. Shaking himself, Imorean pushed harder. He was falling behind. As he slammed his wings down, Imorean seized a thought and pushed it as hard as he could toward Michael.

  “When were you planning on briefing me?”

  Immediately, Michael’s voice came back. “Gabriel and Raphael! Headwind duty. Imorean, with me.”

  Imorean did as he was asked and slid through the air, drawing even with Michael. Raphael moved in from the side, parallel with Gabriel. The pace slowed.

  “I will brief you now. It will be easier to do aloud,” said Michael, his voice soft, yet audible over the wind. “We are flying tonight toward the forest hiding the tree of life, Yggdrasil. In Norse mythology, it connects nine realms together. For us, the forest and Yggdrasil provide a gateway into the small part of the world that the remaining Norse gods have carved out for themselves. Many of these pagan gods, Imorean, have found small tears in reality. In them, they have created a limited space where they can exist without the concern of detection by humans.”