I took one last breath—possibly my very last—and focused on shaping my lips around the word that I needed. The most powerful word I’d ever spoken, or heard. I might be a one-trick pony. But my trick was pretty farking effective.
I knew smut. I knew how to take it, how to carry it, and how to get rid of it. And if I could do what Rumple had taught me with Sanctuary, just using a different power source… then it would be worth a shot.
I let the word escape my lips and my soul simultaneously. “Protect.”
I opened my heart up, my innermost self, as I’d done on Earth so many times, and welcomed the smut from Sanctuary into me. I pulled it off the floors and walls, out of the togas and robes, out of the air itself. Out of the breath of each Protector in the crowd. Drew the few freckles Sunny had gained in the past week, the brand-new smear of smut on Righteous’s neck from wishing for Valor’s torture.
I sucked away Hope’s anger at herself, and her need for revenge. I pulled on the strings of Perception’s petty enviousness, almost laughing at how little smut that cutie had to share.
I opened my eyes, pondering Valor and the Guides.No, not yet.
The floor began to hum then, and it must have been strong enough for everyone to feel it, since Protectors started crying out, wondering aloud if the gate was falling. But the humming wasn’t coming from that direction.
I ignored it, saying “Protect” again, louder this time, and extended my wings. The feathers I could see at the very ends were bright silver, but as I yanked the smut from the first few rows of the spectators, then the next, and accepted the crushing,agonizing burden of it, I saw my feathers grow oily and dark gray. I closed my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to watch.
I drew more, and more into me. I was filled with all the pain, the bad choices, the evil thoughts and deeds and words, of almost all the souls in Sanctuary. Lust and envy, jealousy and hatred. Pride and vanity, selfishness and callousness. So much fear I thought I would choke.
I felt the presence of every smut-laden soul in the realm, and heard their thoughts, almost none of them inclined to any sort of kind thoughts about me. My few friends were down in the cells, though I sensed two twin pulses of love and another bright spark—Truth—approaching from the Maker Hall.
As I pulled from every soul in the Hall, cataloging their crimes and accepting them as my own burden to carry, the room grew darker, and the pain began to change.
Into power.
Unlike the energy that flowed through Sanctuary, this power tasted thick, and burned my cells as it rose to the surface. I didn’t want it; I wouldn’t choose to use it if I didn’t have to.
Perception was shaking his head at me, trying to tell me something. My ears weren’t working. The power kept filling me, and I wondered for a split second how I was holding it all. Had Rumple changed me this much? And then the thought was gone, as I consumed shadows and transformed them.
Sunny was still stretched out on the stage, and when I saw the pain and fear on my best friend’s face as Valor moved toward her, I drew smut faster, recklessly. My vision began to dim. Even looking at Percy hurt.
He was so good. Why couldn’t I be like him? I let my wish for goodness go, to make room for more smut.
Percy was talking to someone. Someone I couldn’t see. Praying? For a split second, I felt an invisible presence in the room. I sensed shock. Disappointment. Grief.
I grieved, too. I could feel the smut eating away at my soul, somehow. Especially when I began to draw from Valor, and understood.
He was made more of fear and sadness than of spirit. A moment of cowardice, years ago, when he had been given a young girl to protect. The mission had been incredibly perilous, and Valor’s heart had quailed.
I dropped into the memory.
“Young Valor?” My Guide looked up from their crowded desk and smiled gently, handing me a scroll. I took it, trying to look confident, though I was terrified inside. This would be my first real mission after dozens of simple ones. I’d been judged and found capable of receiving a difficult task.
My Guide put a hand on my head. “This mission isn’t one I would give a Protector who wasn’t named for Valor in Service of the Light.”
I blushed. “What is my task?”
Their voice dropped. “You must go to an abbey in Italy. There are two sisters, orphans, impoverished. The older one, Dina, is your charge. You are to prevent the soldier who brings the mail from attacking and brutalizing Dina. Read it.” They gestured to the scroll, and I unrolled it and read the impossible task.
I swallowed hard. “I’ve never… How do I do that without using physical force? Without taking away the man’s free will?” My mentor had impressed on me again and again that Protectors were not the ones who changed the balance. That was the work of humankind. Our mission was to persuade, coax, and lead them to light.
My mentor’s eyes gleamed, but they didn’t answer my question. “What you’re being given is unorthodox. But I assure you, this is your task. Perilous though it may be to more than your charge.”
Everyone knew that missions became more complicated and dangerous as one advanced, especially for those being considered for leadership of Sanctuary. Perilous. Is this what that meant? Perilous not to the Earth’s balance, not to my charge… but to me? My soul?
“You believe I can do this?”
“That’s why I chose you. There is something about this task that’s important. Vital. And it means that you may have to have…” Their laughter rang out in the small chamber, filled to the rafters with papers and books. “Well, my name was once Faith without Understanding. My gift is to know that there is a reason for you to be given this mission. I don’t understand why, but I know. You must prevent this young woman from being assaulted. Have faith that you will see how far to go in service of the Light.” The hand felt heavy on my head, oppressive. “If you must do what I believe you will—which may mean injuring the man in question, physically stopping him from this act—you will return to Sanctuary damaged, young Valor. You will not be unaffected. You will need to spend a very long time purifying yourself.” They stood, heedless of the inner turmoil I concealed. “You know I am giving my energy to the Great Gate today.”
I nodded, numb. The gate had been failing again, and my mentor had volunteered to walk through it to strengthen it. They were so old, older than the Maker even, and they’d been forgetting things. Dotty, but sweet, and there had been more than one mistake with missions recently.
