“My passport flags at the airport. Believe me, I have tried getting into Italy via that route before. I was turned away as soon as I got off the plane.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t stolen stuff, that wouldn’t have happened,” smiled Imorean. He still felt disgusting, as though all the grime from travel was still clinging to him. “Dibs on first shower, by the way.”
Michael blinked a few times, obviously confused. “Dibs? What are dibs?”
“It means I’m showering first. Dibs mean you can’t take what I’ve called.”
“Right … I have to say, human mannerisms still confuse me. Angels do not have such colloquialisms in our speech.”
“Speaking of human mannerisms, aren’t you supposed to be training me?”
“I am afraid you will have to learn ‘on the fly’. I would have liked to give you a thorough training, but we do not have the time. I need you with me on this mission.”
“And why me, specifically? I’ve been wondering for a while.”
Michael pulled his AL Pack out of his carry-on bag and pulled both of his swords out of an impossibly small compartment on the Pack. “Because you have Archangel capabilities with none of the baggage.”
“Baggage?” asked Imorean, sitting back down on his bed.
Michael flashed a smile. “Archangels carry weight with us. We leave a certain ripple in the air, a certain effect on the astral plane. When we reach Italy, you will encounter the Cherubim. They are an ancient breed of angel, nearly as old as my kind, the Seraphim. They are closely tuned to the world and to the astral plane. The moment we set foot inside Vatican City, they will all know I am there. They will be able to feel my presence and they will know who I am, but they will not be able to sense exactly where I am or what I am doing. This is where you come in.”
Imorean sighed. “You always do this. How did I not guess you were setting me up for something like this?”
“Naiveté?”
“I trust you too much.”
“And I am grateful for your trust. As I was saying, the Cherubim will be able to sense me since I am a full-blooded and ancient Archangel. My effect should be strong enough that they will completely ignore you. Not even sense that you are there, much less that you are partially an Archangel yourself. This gives you an incredible edge over them. I wanted you on this mission, because I know you have the capabilities to survive on your own if we get separated or if I get thrown out of the country. Again. If that is to happen, you will have to carry out the mission on your own, but I have faith that you would be able to do so if those circumstances were to arise.”
Imorean picked up a pair of socks. “Think you might get thrown out again?”
“It is possible.”
“Well, if you’re this worried about it, it might be a good idea for you to tell me what we’re going to Italy to steal.”
Michael paused. “A map. To the lost city of Paititi in South America. You and your squad will be searching for the god Viracocha soon, to claim a few of his tears. We have received intelligence that he may be residing in Paititi. Before we find him, though, we need to find the map to Paititi itself. I believe I have seen it in the Vatican Archives before. A few centuries ago.”
“We’re risking international arrest to steal a map? A map to a city that might not exist and that you think you saw a few centuries ago?” Imorean dropped his socks as Michael nodded. “You’ve lost your mind. I’m going back to sleep and I’m staying there until you start talking sense.”
“I would leave you, but I need you to accompany me to Vatican City. Whatever happens, Viracocha is essential to our overall mission. It cannot be completed without him and thus not without the map.”
“Why can’t you do it on your own?” asked Imorean, resting a hand on the comforter. Sleep seemed more appealing than following Michael into his next scheme.
“For the reasons that I have already told you, but also because, if we end up in situation where we have to fight, I trust you to watch my back.”
Imorean looked up. Michael trusted him? To the extent that he would have him as a battle partner? He swallowed. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Imorean stared. Michael’s answer had come quickly, but not too quickly. There was no dishonesty in his aura. He was telling the truth.
“Okay.”
“Now, go and get ready. We need to be in the air as soon as possible.”
Chapter 51
It had been too long since Imorean had been in the air like this. Freedom rolled in from the wide, blue skies above and from the fresh, green forests below. Even from their height, Imorean could smell cool, dark pines as well as something clean and crisp wafting up from the ground itself. In spite of late summer, snow still capped the mountains, making the bared, dark gray swathes of rock seem even more exposed. He whooped and ducked under Michael, letting a few warm thermals tug at his feathers. They had been in the air for two hours already and still had a good distance to go. Fluffy, white clouds provided some form of cover. Something in the air relaxed him. He felt normal. For the first time in months, he felt free. The looming threat of Houska waned. Even the fear on his family’s behalf felt less chilling. Being in the air, flying, always eased him. He felt natural, in spite of being the most unnatural thing in the world.
“It has been a while since you and I flew together,” said Michael.
Imorean spun in the air and looked at Michael, who coasted on a thermal above him, all four of his massive, emerald wings fully flared.
“Yeah,” replied Imorean, snapping his wings down a few times and drawing level with Michael. “Too long really.”
“Indeed.”
Imorean paused for a moment and hung in the air, looking back at the sheer peaks behind them. Parts of the Alps had been so steep they had been driven bare, weathered stone clawing the sky. Only rivers, with water so blue it seemed almost artificial, carved their ways through the treeless valleys. High, jagged peaks still held their snow. In spite of their barren patches, they were enchanting.
“Why didn’t you guys set up a school here?” asked Imorean.
“We thought about it,” replied Michael.
“Well?” asked Imorean, folding his wings and catching up to Michael.
“The area is too densely populated. In Norway, we managed to find a rural area that was also an Enochian site. Here … here was a different story. Most of the Enochian sites are populated or they run too close to borders against Vortigern. None of the areas here would have been beneficial for a fledgling hybrid.”
Imorean nodded and grinned as they coasted over the summit of another mountain, an updraft pushing them higher into the clear sky. He looked down. Sheer, slick stone gave way to tough grasses. Further down the rocky mountainside came the timber line and in the very bottom of the valley was a lake. There was no end of mountains in sight. He knew he should have been used to the never-ending display of heights and summits, but there was something just so beautiful about them here.
“Do you see the town?” called Michael.
Imorean turned his head and strained his eyes. There. Down in the bottom of a valley, the sun reflected against a few panes of glass. A village. A road ran through it.
“Got it!”
“Do you see what I mean? Too many people. Too much civilization.”
“Norway probably wasn’t much better.”
“No, but it worked for the time, did it not? I want you to try something, Imorean. It is something you have done before, but only in short bursts and you were not particularly successful at.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“Even though we are on a mission, you are still supposed to be training. So, for the next hour or two, I want you flying on the astral plane.”
“Michael, that’s a long time to spend on the astral plane. How do we know it won’t kill me?”
“It will not. The training I am going to give you on this mission is imperative if you still wish to go to Houska with Raguel.
Unless that is no longer a desire.”
Imorean glared at Michael. His face was impassive. Borderline neutral. “Of course I still want to go. Why would you think I wouldn’t?”
“Then do not complain about having to train. I told you that you would have to learn on the fly. I meant that literally. If you cannot perform to the standards and parameters that I set for you, then you can forget about getting my approval to go to Houska. Now, are you ready?”
Imorean took a deep breath and looked down at the wide valleys below them and the sweeping mountains around them. He beat his wings a few times, negotiating a thermal. Could he navigate them while on the astral plane? An unfamiliar place? He had done it in Mexico but that had only been for a few hundred yards. He had done it on Baffin Island, but that had been at Felsenmeer. This was hundreds of miles of unfamiliar terrain. If he went to Houska, this was something he may have to do.
“There is no shame in saying no, Imorean,” said Michael.
Brown eyes looked up. Was that worry that touched Michael’s voice? A strange sense of anger seized him. “I’m ready.”
“Imorean –”
“Michael, don’t chastise me.”
“I am going to say something that I want you to think about. Something I could not say in good conscience around Roxy.”
White primaries twitched as the air turned tense. “What is it?”
“That you going to Houska may be exactly what Vortigern wants. That all of this is an elaborate trap. To draw you in with false information and kill you. Personally, I do not want you going. I worry that you are playing directly into his hand.”
“I know, but I have to know if my family is alive. And Toddy. They’re important to me, Michael. I can’t sit and hide anymore while Vortigern might still have them alive.”
Michael paused for a while. Imorean swallowed. It felt as though he was unable to move, green eyes pierced him. He stiffened, expecting the familiar feeling of Michael prying into his emotions to get a closer read on him, but it didn’t come. Michael simply hovered there, holding a solid, keen stare.
“I feel like you’re looking through me,” said Imorean, putting false humor into his voice and trying to break the tension.
“Send yourself to the astral plane. If there is nothing I can say to dissuade you, I will make good on my promise and train you to the best of my ability in the limited time we have.”
Michael set forward again and Imorean stared after him. Brown eyes slid closed and he forced himself outward, letting his mind stretch to another plane. He swallowed as the world around him fluctuated and pulsed. He opened his eyes and looked around as the world lit up orange, illuminated by life. He shifted forward, catching Michael in just a few wingbeats. He was part of the world. Moving through it fluid as water. He spun, corkscrewing in the air as he drew level with Michael. Without much effort, Imorean reached out and felt Michael’s presence. He was also on the astral plane, a strange, green glow shifting the air around him.
“Movement is quicker in this form,” said Michael. “This is how guardian angels move a majority of the time.”
“Yeah,” replied Imorean. He knew Michael was trying to change the subject, but there was still something he had to know. “If you disapprove of me going to Houska this much, why don’t you withdraw your permission?”
“Several reasons.” Michael paused and Imorean pressed against his consciousness, prompting a better explanation. “First, you are an adult. You are getting toward having control of your powers and I know this would be a good test for you. Second, I know if I did not give you permission, you would go on your own, regardless of what I say. I know you better than you think, Imorean. Your emotions betray you. Third, because I feel your emotions, just as you feel mine. I cannot emphasize how deeply you and I are linked. Your distress has been weighing on me as well. I remember how worried I was when Uriel was in Vortigern’s grip. There were times that we were unsure if he was alive or dead. The lack of closure was the worst thing about it and I know you feel the same about your family. It does not settle well with me to knowingly put you through the same emotions I felt. You have put me in an unfortunate position. This is one of the only times where my empathy has fought with my sense of duty, which is why I have left the matter of proving your capabilities up to you. The choice will be easier for me when I can put you through your paces.”
Imorean blinked at Michael. It was out of character for Michael to speak for so long in one stretch. He shook himself. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me yet, Imorean. The rest of this all relies on you. You make the decision based upon your capabilities. The only one that you have to convince is me.”
Imorean laughed quietly. “Well, that shouldn’t be hard at all. Hey, how long has it been since we had a race against each other?”
“Quite a while. The last time we went toe to toe, I believe it was October. You were still at Gracepointe. Why?”
“We’ve never raced on the astral plane, have we? And aren’t you looking for me to prove my abilities?”
“Are you challenging me to another race?”
“I nearly beat you last time. Let’s see who’s faster on the astral plane,” grinned Imorean. He felt a thrum of confidence fill the air. A few more mountain peaks flashed by beneath them.
“Fine then. First to reach the lake on the south side of this ridge wins? I will let you have a head start if you like.”
Imorean scoffed. “With a head start, I’d destroy you, old man.”
Michael snorted and Imorean grinned at him. Four emerald wings snapped up close to Michael’s back. A dark, green trail rippled off Michael’s wings as the air split around him. Imorean laughed and launched forward, fighting through the air to catch him. The very air seemed to ripple. He was part of the world, yet not part of it. Orange souls flashed beneath him. Blue sky above. A trail of white followed him. A rogue air current tugged at his primaries, threatening to knock him off course. He tucked upward. Michael was just ahead of him now. He looked up. The ridge was ending. Already? How fast had they been moving? Imorean shook himself. Fast. That was the answer. Below, Michael tilted his wings. Descending. Imorean breathed. He snapped his wings in. Green flashed in the corner of his eye, then it was gone. Glowing, white eyes closed and he spun. The lake was a blur of blue beneath him now. Michael was on his heels. Imorean’s eyes opened and he flared his wings wide, slowing. He caught green out of the corner of his eye again and pulled his wings back. He still needed some speed. He was just above the water. Imorean glanced sideways. Michael was beside him. Perhaps just behind. He pushed faster. He still had speed left to give. There was a flash. Michael rolled over him and swooped in from his other side, their wings touching for no longer than a heartbeat. Imorean grinned and tucked his wings up, wind screaming under the feathers. Something shifted. Movement. Just from the corners of his eyes, Imorean saw it. A weapon swung toward him. Before he checked his motion, his hand opened wide. His sword slammed into his palm, summoned from its place in his Pack through sheer will. Wings flared and tucked again as Imorean rolled, bringing his sword up to block Michael’s mock attack. The flat of Michael’s sword clashed with the edge of Imorean’s and he grinned.
“Well blocked!”
“I should have expected it,” replied Imorean.
“Perhaps.”
Before Imorean could say anything, Michael rolled away, slowing. Imorean shifted his wings and peeled up from the water. He adjusted his grip on his sword, holding it more tightly. He was tired. Being on the astral plane and pushing himself for this long had taken a lot of energy out of him. He panted, the world blurring from the vibrant colors of the astral plane to the natural colors of Earth and back again.
“We finished?”
“Staying on the astral plane for a long time will certainly take it out of you – particularly seeing as you are new to it. Sheathe your sword.”
Imorean focused hard, mentally summoning the scabbard from his AL Pack. “How long’s i
t been?”
“A little over an hour. Time passes differently on the astral plane. The supernatural realms know time differently to the Earth. We will continue for a few more miles, then I will take us the rest of the way to Milan’s central train station.”
“Are you going to teach me how to teleport properly?”
“I am. But in good time. I doubt you have the energy at the moment. Pull yourself from the astral plane now.”
Cold air swept through Imorean’s lungs. Feeling was coming back. Tiredness rushed over him and he shivered. Below, the mountains had changed. Trees covered them now. Their peaks were neither so high nor so sheer. They looked much more like the Appalachians. Imorean couldn’t help but smile. Even on a different continent, he felt oddly like he was home. Home … A place now very far away. Was it really even home anymore? He had nothing left in North Carolina. A cold wind tore through him again, chilling him down to the bone. No matter how much the lower Alps looked like the Appalachians, they weren’t the same.
“Are you ready to keep going?” asked Michael. “We still have a train to catch.”
The sound of a physical voice jarred Imorean fully out of the strange haze that seemed to have settled itself around him.
“Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Chapter 52
Just as he had found in Mexico, Imorean felt that he could feel the history in Rome. The age of the place stirred some distant emotion in his heart. Something about the fact that, unlike the Avenue of the Dead in Mexico, people still lived in Rome just baffled him. The city was an incredible combination of the ancient and the modern. Everywhere he looked there was something new accompanied by something old. Something much older than anything manmade he would ever find in the United States. Tired though he was from long hours of traveling, he couldn’t help but be awed by the simple feeling of being in a new country. His cheeks hurt from smiling.
“The Pantheon. I always thought it resembled the Parthenon in Greece, but newer,” said Michael, emerging from an alleyway and standing next to him.
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