“Surely you have a library within one of the time fragments?” Felicity pressed.
Beziel took several breaths, to calm himself, Dynah presumed. “We do. Quite a few, in fact.”
Felicity’s cheeks colored with pleasure. “Well, that’s perfect, then.”
“It sounds like we have an agreement,” Dynah said. “Penelope and Willow will find Sahkyo. Felicity and I will visit one of these libraries. And the Fallen will continue their search for the seventh seal.”
Beziel looked hesitant, his brow wrinkled and his lips drawn into a thin line, but he bowed his head in acquiescence. “I see that I cannot convince you otherwise. It is so.”
“Good, then,” Willow said, standing. She looked down at Penelope. “Let’s get going.”
Willow turned and strode back out to the balcony, and the others followed. Dynah watched as Willow and Penelope made ready to mount up. Her chest grew tighter and tighter. As Penelope swung up into the saddle, Dynah rushed over and grabbed Domino’s bridle, the leather smooth beneath her fingers. Domino stomped a hoof as if to object to her fussing.
“Please be careful,” she said, her voice low so as not to cause a scene.
Penelope’s brow wrinkled. “Of course.”
“Just because this being is half Navajo, it doesn’t mean she’ll take kindly to you. Remember, she’s half angel, too.”
“Do you think I’d forget that?”
“No,” Dynah said. Her chest grew hot and her throat tightened. “It’s just… I want my sister back. I don’t like that you’re putting yourself in harm’s way.”
“We’re all in harm’s way,” Penelope said. “And we won’t be out of it until we find a way to transform our powers.”
Dynah nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew it all too well. The angels, the new Riders, Sekhmet… everyone wanted to end them. She couldn’t see a way that they’d ever be able to stop running. Only a desperate, fleeting hope that their search for answers would somehow save them.
“We’ll each do our part,” Penelope continued. “You and Felicity figure out that book. Willow and I will learn what we can from Sahkyo.”
“Don’t take any more risks than you need to,” Dynah said. She lowered her voice even more. “Keep Willow from going off half-cocked.”
Penelope chuckled, her gaze darting up to her best friend. “I’ll do my best.”
“Penelope,” Dynah implored.
“I promise,” Penelope said, her face somber this time.
“Okay, then.” Dynah nodded again, a stiff jerk of her chin.
“Are you ready?” Beziel asked.
“Yes,” Penelope answered, giving her sister a squeeze on the shoulder.
“Being as how your numbers have diminished, I’ll send Arialle to help in case you have a run-in with the other Riders,” Beziel said to Willow and Penelope. He looked to his fellow Fallen, the woman with the dark hair, and said, “You can exit the realm near the border of Mexico, so you’re a bit closer to your destination.”
Arialle nodded. The woman approached a statue of an angel on the balcony, and Dynah realized it must be the anchor to take them back to the temple with all the books. Arialle, Penelope, and Willow reached out and laid their hands on it, and a moment later they were gone. As if they’d never been there at all.
“Well, then,” Beziel said. “I suppose it’s time to pick a library. I suggest Oxford. 1875. One of the best libraries in the world. From there, you may get lucky. Or you might need to try other locations and times until you find what you’re looking for.”
Dynah frowned. It sounded like a very time-consuming and tedious process. But when she looked over at Felicity, the other woman was radiant.
“This is such a rare opportunity,” Felicity said, clasping and unclasping her hands. “We have our pick of hundreds of times and places throughout history, to meet with scholars from around the world. It’s really very exciting.”
Beziel chuckled. “Well, I’m glad we can be of assistance. I shall send Zachariah with you, in case you need help navigating through the realm of the Fallen. There are a few—ah—rules—you must adhere to.”
“Rules?” Dynah asked.
“I’ll let him fill you in,” Beziel said. “I must return to the hunt for the seventh seal.”
“Of course,” Felicity said. Her face fell. “The Apocalypse.”
“Remember your rings if you need me,” Beziel said. “But otherwise, Zachariah will attend to you.”
Zachariah approached and offered a subtle bow in greeting. He looked to Dynah quite cherubic other than the red wings. Pale skin. Boyish features. Pale golden hair.
“Thank you for accompanying us,” Dynah said with a smile.
The Fallen gave a nod, his face stoic. “Certainly.”
“Shall we head to Oxford, then?” Felicity asked.
Zachariah merely nodded again and gestured for them to approach the statue. Dynah and Felicity led their horses over to it, and they each touched a hand to the cool stone. A moment later they were back in the temple of portals.
“Can we leave our horses here?” Dynah asked Zachariah. “I don’t think they’ll take kindly to us leading them into the library with us.”
She smiled again but Zachariah’s face didn’t change, not so much as a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. She was used to having more of an effect on the opposite sex.
“Yes, they’ll be safe here.”
Dynah and Felicity set about taking off their horses’ saddles and bridles. Moon snorted in appreciation as Dynah took off his saddle and she scratched him on the withers.
“They’ll need something to eat this evening,” Felicity said. “As will we, for that matter. Is there… any food to be found in the realm of the Fallen?”
“That can be arranged,” Zachariah said. “We can get grain in Oxford and return to feed them.”
Dynah was beginning to think Zachariah’s affect was similar to that of someone attending a funeral. “Thank you,” she said. “Now, shall we?”
Zachariah wordlessly led the way through the maze of pedestals and books. Four rows over, two up, then he stopped in front of a book that declared itself Oxford 1875. Felicity’s glow was back, despite their host’s gloomy attitude, and Dynah felt a glimmer of the same excitement. Could they actually find a way to reverse their powers, reverse the whole Apocalypse? To have magic that helped people instead of causing death and destruction?
Felicity’s eyes met hers, and they reached out and touched the book.
Chapter Eight
Willow
The moment she appeared in the desert and felt the heat hug around her, Willow let out a breath of relief. Sure, they were now back in the sights of those that pursued them. But they were closer to home, to the land she knew and loved, and more importantly, they were free.
Every moment inside the realm of the Fallen had felt like being trapped in a prison. Which was something she was unfortunately quite familiar with. It had seemed that somehow the air in that place was limited, like each breath she took brought her closer to running out of oxygen. Here, beneath the open sky, she was in her own world again. Danger or no danger, it was where she was meant to be.
“So, we need a plan,” Penelope said.
Domino snorted and darted his nose over to nip at Bullet. The horses seemed excited to be back here, too. Willow covered her eyes against the bright sun and stared south across the stretch of sand. Only cacti adorned the open space. Far, far in the distance she saw the purplish outline of mountains.
“I suppose we can fly from town to town and ask people,” Penelope continued.
“Ask them if they’ve seen haunted mountains?” Willow asked with a snort.
“No point mincing words,” Penelope retorted.
Willow shrugged. “That’s probably true.” She turned to Arialle. “I know Beziel wants you to stay with us, but once we close in on Sahkyo you’re going to have to stay behind. We can’t risk blowing this whole thing b
ecause she hates angels.”
“I’m not an angel,” Arialle said, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “The red wings sort of make that clear, don’t you think?”
Penelope raised her brows and looked over at Willow.
“We’re still not taking any chances,” Willow said. “Come on. Let’s fly.”
Willow and Penelope mounted up and urged the horses into a gallop. Willow remembered the last time they’d raced each other, near her house south of Hawk’s Hollow. She must have leaned forward slightly, or unconsciously closed her legs around Bullet as she thought of it. Or maybe the mare just remembered the same thing. Whatever the reason, she shot off across the sand like her namesake.
Domino let out a squeal and a playful buck and took off after them. Willow looked over her shoulder to see them coming up hot. Penelope was bent low across his neck, his white mane blending with her own ebony locks. Their hooves pounded over the earth, creating a tremor that no natural horse could make. Domino’s nose came level with Bullet’s flank.
With a mighty leap, Bullet took to the sky. They flew upwards in a spiral, one and then the other, like birds of prey. Willow could see flashes of red below as Arialle followed them, her wings beating the air in mighty strokes. Within moments they reached the clouds. Bullet and Domino dove in and out of them, but Willow remembered their ambush and steered Bullet to a lower altitude so they had some visibility.
It didn’t take long to spot a town in the distance, and they made for it. The horses had settled down and flew side by side, though they still let out the occasional squeal and darted their noses at each other. When they got within a half mile of the town, they landed so they could ride in like normal folk and not cause a big stir.
But they needn’t have worried.
People brawled openly in the streets and gunshots broke the air like Fourth of July fireworks. The creek running alongside the town was murky and foul-smelling. The shops appeared to be looted, except for the rotting food visible through the windows. Willow could see a corpse lying face up in the dirt.
The Apocalypse had gotten here first.
They reined in the horses and stood in silence. The last time they’d seen the effects of their magic to this extent was in the first couple of days after their transformation. At that time, before they’d visited Spider Woman’s domain, the collective consciousness of the Riders who came before them had been in control. It wasn’t that they hadn’t felt it, but the part of them that felt it had been shoved far beneath the rush of power they’d possessed as new Riders.
But now... now the roles were reversed. They still felt the power of the Riders, but they were themselves again fully. With all the thoughts and emotions therein. Willow felt as if she’d swallowed a bucket of coals, hot and heavy in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t sadness exactly. It was more anger. They’d been used as pawns by Heaven. Next to her, she saw Penelope close her eyes a moment, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
“We’re going to fix this,” Willow said through gritted teeth.
“Let’s move on to another town,” Arialle said, her tone firm but not unkind.
Willow stared at the chaos before them and wished she knew how to undo it. She could ride through the midst of any crowd and cause war as easily as drawing breath. Her magic just came forth and it happened. Even thinking it now caused a stir in her veins, a rush of heat. But to reverse it? She hadn’t a clue how to do that.
“Come on,” Arialle said again. “We need to move on.”
Chapter Nine
Felicity
They stepped from the temple of the Fallen onto a cobblestone street. An actual cobblestone street! They certainly didn’t have roads like this in Colorado. Or elegant stone buildings that looked like castles. Or gas lamps lining the walkways. Or ladies in glamorous dresses carrying parasols and men with pocket watches and cigars. Well, they did have the cigars.
She knew she shouldn’t be excited, but she couldn’t help herself. Felicity had read so many books about England. England had everything glamorous that Colorado did not. And the year 1875—only a couple decades prior to their own time. Which meant an angel had fallen from Heaven quite recently. Who, and for what reason?
Then she saw it in the distance. The university, the oldest one in the world. It was hard to believe that it had been around almost a thousand years. A thousand years! Until recently, that would have been an unfathomable amount of time, but with her new consciousness as a Rider, Felicity knew that the universe was so, so much older than that. However, the part of Felicity that was just an eighteen-year-old who lived in a dusty town out west felt giddy at the thought.
It looked like a castle. Spires of gray stone. Grand arches and domes. Crenellations and towers and walkways. A place dedicated entirely to knowledge and learning and the great questions of humanity and beyond. Felicity thought she might swoon. Except they had work to do, and lots of it. She grabbed Dynah’s hand in excitement and took a purposeful step forward.
Someone cleared their throat. “Ladies?”
Felicity stopped and turned to face Zachariah, who for just a moment she had forgotten about entirely. “Yes?”
“You must remember that the people in this place do not know they are just a copy of a reality that once was,” Zachariah said. “To them, this is reality.”
“What’s your point?” Dynah asked.
Zachariah gestured toward them.
Felicity looked over to Dynah and then down at herself. And then it dawned on her. “Oh.”
“Indeed.” Zachariah made a small sound in his throat that sounded to Felicity suspiciously like a snort. “You cannot go prancing into the University of Oxford wearing black corsets and long cloaks and riding boots. You might be mistaken for… I’m not even entirely sure, but nothing good. You would turn the heads of the academics in those halls. Most of whom are men.”
“I will assume, then, Zachariah,” said Felicity, “that you have a solution for this since you have so kindly brought it to our attention.”
Dynah shot her a smile, while Zachariah’s expression became, if possible, even more devoid of emotion.
“Of course,” he said.
He waved his hand and a shimmer of magic fell over them, bright and cold like freshly fallen snow. Felicity glanced down. She now wore a full-length lavender dress trimmed in lace, and Dynah a pale blue one. Zachariah’s wings were gone and he was now attired in a tweed suit and a felt hat.
“Better?” he asked, one brow severely arched.
“Yes,” Felicity said with a nod.
He gestured to the gray stone building behind them. “This is our town house. We’ll sleep here tonight, provided you don’t find your Egyptian secrets in the next few hours.”
Felicity and Dynah nodded, and they set off down the street. Zachariah lapsed again into silence as he followed them to the university. As they approached, the foot traffic increased. Bespectacled men with fine coats and sensible trousers crowded the area. It soon became clear to Felicity that she and Dynah were the minority here. She didn’t see another woman in sight.
The university seemed a small town in and of itself. Building after building, each grand and ornate like a cathedral. After wandering amidst the maze of them for a quarter hour, Felicity approached a middle-aged man standing alone smoking a pipe.
“Sir, excuse me,” she said. “Might you point us in the direction of the library?”
“Certainly,” he said. “Which one?”
Felicity felt a shiver of dread and delight. “Um, well...”
His brow crinkled, and he eyed Felicity and Dynah. “Are your husbands students here?”
Felicity opened her mouth and closed it again. She exchanged glances with Dynah. “We’re looking for books on ancient Egypt,” she said, dodging his presumptuous question.
“Hmm,” he said. “You’re probably best to start at the Radcliffe Camera.”
He provided them instructions and they made their way past mor
e grand halls of learning, taking a left and two rights before entering a large grassy courtyard in the midst of the campus. The emerald turf flashed like a jewel amidst the gray stone. A large circular building with a domed roof rose up in the center of it. It looked like something out of a fairytale. They headed up the steps into it, and Felicity had to pause in wonderment inside the entrance. She’d never seen so much majesty in all her life. Huge stone archways. A frescoed ceiling. Mahogany and brass. The whole place smelled of paper and ink and she thought she might never want to leave again.
The library rose two stories, with a balcony running around the second floor. Books lined the walls floor to ceiling. Tables sat in the middle for scholars to conduct their work. Felicity flashed her eyes around and saw a desk off to the left, behind which sat a stout fellow with a handlebar mustache and a canary-yellow smoking jacket.
“May I help you?” he asked, with no small note of suspicion in his voice.
“Thank you, sir. We’re conducting research on ancient Egypt,” Felicity said. “Perhaps there is a scholar here who can assist us?”
“Ancient Egypt?” the man echoed. “That’s hardly appropriate subject matter for a woman. Dark, bloody business it is.”
Felicity felt Dynah stiffen beside her, and her blue eyes turned icy. “Excuse me—”
Zachariah stepped up beside them. “Pardon me, kind sir. These are my research assistants. We’re visiting from Cambridge, you see.”
“Cambridge?” Now it was the librarian’s turn to stiffen. “I wasn’t notified of any visitors from Cambridge.”
“Dean Cantwell must not have had time yet to let you know. He is a very busy man, naturally,” Zachariah said. He offered a faint smile. “But surely he won’t be bothered if you need to reach out and check.”
The librarian looked as if he’d sucked on a lemon. Silence fell for several long moments. “No, no.” He waved a large hand back and forth. “I’ll call up one of the research assistants to help you.”
He got up from his chair and shuffled off, muttering something under his breath about Cambridge employing women as research assistants.
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