Too many, as if they knew something was up.
“Don’t worry, Feather,” Truth murmured through tight lips. He was skinny and tall, and I tried not to look at the cute little tuft of hair that poked out of the center of his bare chest. “I’m here for you to the end.” Which might come sooner than I’d thought.
I peered down at my own chest. The feather birthmark I’d had for my entire life was obvious without my toga on, and when they’d seen it, a few of the others in line had burst into tears. Truth had asked about it, though, and knew it wasn’t a mating mark. He’d vowed to stand as witness to the truth of my words to the Guides.
“I won’t let them take your wings, Feather. Don’t worry. When it’s time to act, it’s time.” It sounded vaguely portentous, just like the sort of thing a freedom fighter would say, but I had no idea what he meant.
I was next up on the podium, though, and when I stepped in front of the Guide, their voice was cutting. “You bear a mark on your chest,” they spat out. Valor leered down at my breasts, and I wished I’d used a bit more fabric making my bikini. The Guide asked, “Who is your mate?”
I didn’t want to answer; I wasn’t sure the no-mating rule would apply to our new mating. But Truth was there, and I knew the truth in my words would be apparent to a Guide. “Well, Mikhail is my mate,” I began, but they interrupted.
“He was your mate before you entered the gate. Whose feather is that?” They pointed with a gnarled hand—which was super odd, as I’d never noticed anyone else’s hand looking old in Sanctuary. All our bodies were at the peak of physical health, if not perfection. “Give us the name.” The other two Guides stepped up, like they were ready to drag me off and cut out my birthmark.
“It’s not Mikhail’s feather. I lost that one, the one he put on my nape. I’ve had this since I was born on Earth the day I was sent there from Sanctuary. It is not a feather I accepted, not a mating mark. It’s not what you think.”
Truth stepped up, and I felt his warmer fingers grasp my shaking ones. “She’s telling the truth. You can hear it, but I will affirm on my wings that every word she said was true.”
I glared at Valor, who was still staring at my nipples, and squeezed Truth’s hand. “Yeah, it’s a birthmark.”
Truth coughed slightly. I glanced at him, and wondered why his face was slightly green-tinged now. Maybe he was just nervous? But he didn’t throw up like he did when people told lies, and the Guides stared for a moment, then let him go.
Valor licked his lower lip in a way I thought he might have meant to be sexy, but just looked gross. “See you later, little Novice.”
“Not a Novice,” I replied, turning away and flicking my wings out to prove my point.
We rushed to the back of the room, and then Truth stood in front of me, a few others joining him. We spoke in whispers as hundreds of other Protectors were inspected for marks, the Guides going so far as to lift their hair and peer at their scalps to check. It was degrading and humiliating.
And that was what they wanted. For us to fear them, and obey out of fear.
Truth’s voice was shaking, and almost too quiet to hear, as he said, “Feather, the hidden way out of this room is right behind you. Go left when you get out—Hope tied a rope there to get to the next level down, close to the supply closet.” He hesitated. “Glory was able to give better directions to where they’re holding Righteous. He’s not well. Sunny sent a message that she’s left food in the small purifying chamber outside the Maker Hall. Righteous will need it to heal. Get in and then get him out of there, somehow.”
“How?” I gasped.
“Angelic words,” he offered, and his eyes met mine. “You’re the only High Angelus we have. Sunny said the Maker taught you one for his Hall? I think it could work for the lesser doorways, if it works there. But if you can’t do it...” He broke off, and I noted the others who had joined him were extending their wings slightly, enough to hide me as I tiptoed to the door. Someone was throwing a loud fit on the other side of the room. It was time to go.
In seconds, I was in the hidden passageway. I raced along the white marble corridor, so narrow my shoulders scraped the sides, and found my way down the rope, then to the room where Sunny had hidden the food in a bag with a few other supplies and a blanket. A note was folded up inside, with directions to theonly stairway down to the cells, and more instructions on how to stay hidden on my way there.
But nothing about which room Ry was in. Great.
I shifted the strap of the bag over one shoulder, working it around my wing, and pulled a white towel over my head to hide my hair. The silver showed up from a distance, I knew, and I needed to blend completely, since it wasn’t nighttime. I’d never been so grateful for the monochromatic color scheme of Sanctuary until a trio of Guides flew overhead a few minutes later in the corridor, one of them looking directly down at me, and flew on.
There were no secret corridors to the lower level, so I had to go in via the only entrance. I wasn’t sure how Truth and Sunny had fixed it but when I reached that part of the corridor, the guard was gone. I ran to the doorway and took a deep breath, forcing out the word foropenthat Mikhail had taught me for his secret hallway. It was a bit like swatting a fly with a hammer. The lock was smoking slightly when the door swung wide.
And I staggered from the power it took to use it.
I slipped inside and pulled the door shut behind me, leaning against the wall to catch my breath. I hadn’t told Sunny that Sanctuary had been pulling so much power through me over the past week that I was noticeably weaker. It affected not only my physical strength, but my angelic powers, too. My telepathy hardly worked at all now, and I coughed up blood half the time I spoke in angelic.
I’d kept it secret, though I was sure Truth and Sunny both had their suspicions.The resistance needed a leader they could believe in. They all thought I was a High Angelus, and I sort of was. But I wasn’t strong like the real ones. Like Mikhail. My heart thudded miserably at the distance between us. He’d promised to be back in a few days. Why wasn’t he here, helping straighten out these Guides? Throwing Valor in a cell?
I shook off my moment of self-pity and peered down the long hallway. There were dozens of doors, and I wondered again at the story that this was where Protectors went to meditate. I’d been in enough prisons on Earth to know when I was standing in one, no matter how clean the floors and walls. The doors here didn’t have any windows or bars, though. They were just closed off. If I had to open more than one… Well, I wasn’t sure I’d have the energy to get out of this place.
I glanced down at the crumpled note in my fist, hoping directions to Ry’s cell might have suddenly appeared on it. Nope. Time to do what I did best: improvise.
I hummed under my breath as I traveled down the hallway, a hide and seek song Rumple had taught me when I was very young. I passed every door at least three times, and felt something outside one, though I knew from the number of recent disappearances that more of them had to be filled. It was a humming sound. Was this the strange hum I’d noticed before, outside the Maker Hall?
No, I realized when I pressed my ear against the door, and heard what had to be thoughts. Desperate ones, like a monotone thread of despair. I pressed my hand to the panel by the door and spoke the word to open, almost collapsing when it finally slid wide.
Inside sat a Protector who was shocked to see me. But he wasn’t Righteous.
