“That changes nothing, Phin. You are still everything you knew yourself to be,” I said softly.
“I’m sorry. Saints, I apologize, I didn’t mean… I just was being nosy,” Coltor hastily babbled apologies.
“Mother told me you were blessed by a cherubim when I was born. That’s why you never seemed to get older and were able to pass from her care to mine.”
The sound of Ramsey’s startled laughter rang through my mind.A cherubim? That sounds like something she would say. I honestly thought you knew, all this time. I don’t know why your parents kept it from you. Your mother has many talents similar to those of a wise woman or a hedgewitch, but she is indeed a demon.
“Perhaps it wasn’t just your angel nature responding to my touch then,” Hailon said gently. “I know it doesn’t help anything, but I didn’t know my mother was a demon either, not until veryrecently. I won’t insult you by saying that I know what you’re feeling right now, but we seem to have quite a bit in common.”
The silence was heavy for several heartbeats.
“I still went to Heaven. Frequently. How? And if I could go, why couldn’t she?”
“I expect that it’s nothing more complicated than the fact that you are still half angel, and she was not. That alone would be enough,” I offered.
“Could you go?” Her head tilted. “As a fallen. Could you go back if you wanted to?”
I looked at Seir who shrugged. “Perhaps.”
Phin closed her eyes, shoulders sagging. “Safe to assume you never asked?”
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me. “Yes, that’s right. As I explained, there are rules. Lots of paperwork restricting the use of portals to and from Heaven from the crossroads. But I could ask, if you want me to. Seir?—”
“I’ll speak with Keplar,” he responded immediately, knowing just what I was after. “Surely there’s a codex somewhere with rules about inter-planar travel that include information beyond just Hell and Earth.”
“Thank you.”
Ramsey whined and Phin looked down at her, relaxing noticeably as she used her free hand to pet the hound’s fur.
“Merry, do you happen to have any spirits?” Phin asked quietly.
“Spirits? Like ghosts or?—”
“No. I… I’m sorry to be so rude, but I could really use a drink.”
“Oh! Absolutely.”
Our hostess dashed into the kitchen and returned with a bottle, passing it and several small drink glasses around the table.
“Oh, I’m not sure that one’s a good idea, that’s stone kin home brew, it’s—” Coltor tried to warn her, but it was too late.
Phin locked eyes with me again, just as she gulped down a solid two fingers’ worth of the clear, potent grain alcohol Merry had provided her with. She grimaced, inhaled through the burn, and then coughed. I patted her back, but she indicated she was alright.
“Bottoms up.” Merry took her own drink, though barely a sip in comparison, smiling encouragingly at Phin as she picked up her fork.
Dinner progressed as normally as any meal could after a revelation like that. Between Ramsey and I, we made sure that Phin ate most of the contents of her plate as well as the pie Hailon had made for dessert. Despite that, by the time she’d finished a third drink I was certain I’d be carrying her home and that she’d be in bed most of the next day.
None of which bothered me one bit. She was welcome to have whatever reaction she thought was appropriate to help her process what she’d learned.
I could only assume she felt the same way, because through the rest of dinner, the conversation, the goodbyes and promises to see one another soon, she never let go of my hand.
“Doyou need to visit the bathroom? Or did you want to change into something else?” I flushed hot, unsure what I would do if she actually said yes.
“No, I’m ’kay.” Phin sighed deeply, already half asleep as she snuggled into the bed fully dressed. I pulled her blankets up around her, torn between relief and worry that she might have to stumble in there later anyway.
“There’s a pail just here”—I lifted her arm, making sure she touched the small bucket I’d put next to her bed with her fingers— “if you feel unwell.”
“’Kay.”
