Lilith, on the edge of the mayhem, turned and caught sight of the other woman. She said something, beckoning. “Silence.”
The woman shook her head, refusing to budge from the tree.
Interesting.
A noise rose up from the cart, drawing my attention back to the people. Tomes stood there, hat in hand, pointing up at me.
The people, more than twenty, went immediately silent. They stared up at me, all different shapes and sizes and skin tones, eyes wide and expectant.
I took a breath, extended my wings, and stepped off the belltower parapet.
The women gasped, and the few children in their midst cried out.
My wings snapped open, and I hovered above them for a few heartbeats. It was a cloudy, cold winter day, so I didn’t have the sunlight streaming through my wings to make an impact, but I didn’t let it bother me. These people had never seen seraphim, even though their entire cult seemed to revolve around them.
“Brown wings,” someone murmured. “Not white?”
That wasn’t going to bother me. What did I care about some small-minded human’s opinion? Nothing. I wasn’t going to let it bother me. I had proved myself many times over.
With powerful, dramatic wingbeats, I slowly lowered myself to the ground. When my bare feet hit the hard-packed earth I snapped them wide, flaring the primary feathers, then folded them in.
The awed, dumbstruck looks on their faces made clear I’d succeeded in giving them a show. I held back my smug smile.
“Herald!” The oldest elder, a man with white tufts of hair on the sides of his head and a shiny pocketwatch dangling from his waistcoat, stepped forward. “We are honored you’ve come to our humble place of worship.”
I arched one brow and set my fists on my hips. He did not sound humble at all.
“I am Elder Nelson. You’ve met Elder Tomes.” He gestured vaguely behind him. “And here are Elders Dalton and White.” All men gave short bows, eyes gleaming as if they couldn’t quite believe they’d gotten what they wanted and now didn’t know what to do with it.
“Herald!” A woman’s voice this time. I scanned the small crowd, looking for her.
The woman with graying blond hair stumbled forward, elbowing people to get to the front. She dropped to her knees. “I am Mrs. Meadows, the mother of Elder Absalom.” Her voice caught on a sob. “Please. What happened to my son?”
“Be quiet, Martha,” Tomes hissed at her. “You cannot make demands of Erlik’s Herald. I’ll answer your questions later.”
But she wouldn’t be deterred. “Please, Herald, at least tell me he is safe in Lord Erlik’s arms.”
I nodded stiffly, looking around for any sort of hint as to how I should act.
Lilith skirted the edge of the crowd, sidling toward her mother and close to me. I watched her face, completely blank although her body moved with purpose.
She was all juxtaposition—curvy body, sharp mind, blank eyes, hard tongue, beautiful and cold. She was a mystery, and I’d always loved mysteries.
“With your leave, Herald,” Nelson said, his voice quivering with age, “we shall take the bodies and prepare them for a funeral. After we have laid to rest our reverend and elder, we can meet with you about how we can best worship your presence and follow Lord Erlik’s precepts.”
The people sucked in a collective breath, as if they’d remembered it was not only an elder who had died, but their beloved Reverend Grimshaw as well. They were a sedge without a captain now, for it was a Grimshaw who saw us Fall, a Grimshaw who gathered their faithful together, and a final Grimshaw who found Gabriel.
“A blessing, Herald,” Mrs. Meadows called out, getting to her feet as Lilith pulled on her arm. “Speak a blessing over my son, over the holy men we have lost this day.”
Elder Dalton, the youngest of the elders, had sandy blond hair and a heavyset frame. He glowered at Mrs. Meadows. “Yes, Herald.” He turned a properly devout look on me. “These men were the bravest and best among us. They died fulfilling the will of our god. They sought out Lord Erlik’s messengers and now surely are rejoicing in the splendor of our god’s glory in the Afterworld. Would you speak a blessing on their passage, Herald? For we know it is you who guide souls to their resting place in the Beyond and it is you who whispered the sacred precepts of Erlik down to the reverends through the ages.”
Inwardly, I grimaced. I really need a look at these sacred precepts.
I nodded gravely.
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Meadows suggested, suddenly bashful and flushed, “may I suggest the Blessing Psalm 106? It has always brought me great comfort.”
I hesitated, my pulse spiking. Well, fuck, how was I going to handle this without revealing my ignorance and disappointing a grieving mother?
