“Yeah, I said that. But I’m not scared. I promise. You want to be clean all the way? Say the word, birch.”
I shook my head and pulled my hand away, wiping it off on my toga. “I want to keep this smut, Feather. I need a reminder that the right thing is the scary thing… even if it means I pay a price. It’s my price to pay. Please don’t take any more from me.”
She frowned, or I thought she did. Her face was hard to see under the clay. She was going to say something else, when the demon baby—who had called FeatherMama—slipped under Feather’s arm, whimpering at whoever was approaching.
I stepped in front of them both and turned with stained fists raised, wondering if Tradition was coming back for another swing at my girl. He’d have to go through me. But it wasn’t Tradition. It was High Angelus Gavriel.
“Get out of my way,” he ordered. “I have to take care of that demon.” I stared first at the Celestial sword he held in one hand, then at the grim expression on his chiseled face, and thought very hard about the wisdom of doing this scary thing.
What would Feather do?I wondered, but I already knew.
“No,” I said firmly, as Feather let out a soft, “Shizz.” On the far side of the stage, just out of sight, I could hear Mikhail still growling while Righteous stammered explanations.
A few yards away, Perception let out a short, surprised, “Uh-oh,” as he watched us. Tradition was somewhere nearby, hiding like the chickenship he was, but I felt a hint of smug triumph arising from his direction.
Hope stepped up beside me, making an even firmer barrier between the baby and Gavriel, whose eyes were filled with sadness, determination, and more than a hint of despair.
“Give me the child,” he demanded. His fingers tightened on the grip of the Celestial sword, and I knew nothing I could say to defend the baby would stop him from going through me.
“Leave it alone,” I pleaded. “She called Feather Mama. You can’t…”
“I know. The child is charming. But I must take responsibility for it,” he said, his voice cracking. “It can’t run loose in Sanctuary. The realm is so weakened. I… I swore a sacred vow to never allow a demon to taint these Halls. I must protect my realm. Even if it means making the hard choices.” He lost the thread of his words, and I saw something I’d never seen.
Tears coursing down Gavriel’s face.
I saw the truth in him, at that moment, as if an invisible sun had come out just to shine on his tangled soul and his broken heart. He was so conflicted. Agonizing over some decision he’d made. He didn’t know if whatever he planned was the right thing, but he felt he had no other choice. I opened my heart, prayed for inspiration, and landed on a very unlikely solution.
I held out a hand toward the sword. “You have suffered enough, Gavriel. And you need to go to the gate to sing. To keep it strong. Feather taught some of the ancient songs to a few Protectors who can bear the High Angelic words…” He jolted at that, and a glimmer of curiosity flared in his blue eyes. “Butyou’ll be better for it. Go. I vow this, on my wings: if you give me the sword, I will take care of the demon for you. For all of us.”
I felt his mind brush against my thoughts, and hoped he couldn’t see what I had hidden beneath my words. He stared at me, a peculiar expression dawning that he immediately tried to mask. Like he felt ill, but was trying to conceal it.
“You’ll… take care of it for me.” His voice was thick with some unnamable mix of emotions.
I nodded. “I know you can’t leave it alive here.”
Feather cried out, cursing me in her inventive way. Perception just watched, silently.
“Why, Sunny?” It seemed like Gavriel was asking me more than one question, but I chose to answer the one that I felt lay closest to the hidden truth in his heart.
“If you destroy this baby,” I whispered, “she’ll never forgive you. Let me take care of it instead. Give me the sword.”
To one side, I heard Mikhail and Righteous stop their fighting, and Mikhail called out, “Gavriel, you can’t!”
Gavriel nodded at me brusquely, and leveled a glance at Mikhail, filled with immeasurable sorrow, pain, and… disappointment? But he didn’t answer his friend. He simply handed me the sword and turned on his heel, his great wings flaring out on both sides, painting the Hall with golden blades of light. “Tradition, come with me. You need to learn to sing to the gate as well. And do some real explaining.”
Tradition jumped and ran behind Gavriel, glancing back as if wolves were running after him.
I turned, holding the Celestial sword to one side. Sword lessons had never been my favorite, but I knew how to hold one. I just didn’t want the baby to get— “Ah! Get her away from it!” I shouted, as the baby slipped through the gooey muck that was covering Feather, and flew at the blade. I pulled it back asquickly as I could, but the baby was faster than any Protector—or even any High Angelus—I’d ever seen.
In seconds, she had grabbed the blade with both arms, wrapped herself around it, and was gnawing on the side of it. Not bleeding. Not cut. The blade seemed to have no effect on her at all.
Thank the Light of All Lights.My heart was racing so fast, I felt like I might pass out.
“Sunny?” Hope murmured, while Feather watched the little demon with hearts in her eyes. “You were never going to kill this baby. Why did you vow on your wings?”
I didn’t answer, since I was still trying to get the baby off the sword in case the thing had some sort of delayed effect on her.
“She never said she’d kill it,” Perception answered for me, with an undercurrent of reproach in his voice. “She said she’d take care of it. She vowed it.” He sighed and patted the top of the little creature’s head. She snarled at him, exposing two shining white teeth poking through pink flesh, and he stumbled over his own feet in his haste to back away.
