Truth laughed at the mutterings around us as he gave me a quick, sweaty hug. “Oh, Feather, I’m so glad you came back.”
One of his friends chimed in. “But why did you? And where’s High Angelus Mikhail, and Righteous?”
“And Sunny?” a new voice called out, one I knew well. Hope.
She and Percy both landed not far from us, their arms filled with weapons. Percy began handing them out, and Hope strode to my side. I looked up at the statuesque blonde, and grinned. She was shining more brightly than she ever had before. Totally ready to ascend, thank goodness.
“Sunny is fabulous. She misses you and I’m under strict instructions to take you to her.”
Hope’s eyes dropped to the feather mark wrapped around my boob. “That better not be hers.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned, “Remind me to punish Righteous when we get back to the Celestial Realm.”
“I’m so glad to see you, Feather.” She wrapped her arms around me for a split second, then turned to help hand out weapons to the others.
The shadows were creeping toward us once more, so the octet started singing again. I mimed stripping their clothes off. They actually started doing it, and I felt pretty smart when the shadows had to move back. They really were more effective in the buff.
Percy finished handing out the weapons and giving instructions to the younger Protectors. It reminded me ofarming children for battle. They weren’t old enough to have become experts with these swords and pikes. But they were the only ones who could function with the angelic songs being sung so close. Most of the others had to sit with their ears covered.
Sorrow crept into my song. If they had been listening to this music all along, hearing it being sung to the gate, or in the higher-level lecture halls, they would have been able to fight.“Music was once our greatest weapon,”Rumple had said to me once. It seemed like everyone had forgotten that.
“This isn’t a defensible position,” Perception muttered. “And I think I heard screams in the upper classrooms. The smaller shadows are sneaking everywhere.”
“We need louder music,” I said, considering. I’d been to a concert once in Chicago that was so loud, I couldn’t hear for a week. “Like a concert, or a rave.”
Our eyes met. “The Merge,” we said together. It only had two doors and was big enough for most of Sanctuary to get inside. It would probably be big enough for whoever was left alive. I hoped there were more than this small group.
“Can some of us get to the instrument closet?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the shadows. Gavriel was still battling his demon, but he’d almost killed it. Once he’d sliced it to ribbons that fell on the floor and melted away, he moved through the hall, taking care of all the others that might threaten us.
Finally, he strode over to us, pointing to two of the Guides. “You two, take at least four of the younger ones to protect you with song. Gather as many instruments as you can, and get to The Merge. We’ll play at both doors. The amplification there will keep the shadows at bay. Hope, Perception? We need as many weapons as we can get?—”
“They don’t work,” Hope whispered.
Gavriel froze. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you’re not singing in High fucking Angelic, our weapons only work on the smallest shadows.” She moved closer to continue more quietly, “We came upon a group of Protectors being terrorized on our way there. Two of them had swords, but the cuts they inflicted didn’t seem to stay. Other shadows plastered themselves over the injuries, and?—”
“Worked together,” Gavriel said with a groan. “Shi—” His eyes cut to me, softening as he finished, “Shizz.”
“Shizz is right.” I blushed, unsure why hearing him say one of my curse words felt so intimate. My chest throbbed, and I shook the weird feeling away.
“So we need to arm the singers.” His eyes fell on the young Protectors, and I watched the realization hit him. The only ones who could bear the weight of the language were the ones Mikhail had carved from his flesh.
And the older ones didn’t know the songs. Although that seemed odd. The Guides were all older; some of them should remember. I tilted my head at two golden-robed figures sitting on the floor, wiping at their exposed faces.
“Can you sing?” Gavriel demanded. “You’re both over a thousand.”
“We know the songs,” the Guide said, wiping blood from their cheek. “But the angelic language… We can’t hold the sounds in our minds.”
Another Guide, who had cuts all over their bald scalp, pointed at their colleague. “You know why, Tranquility. We stopped singing centuries ago. And when we tried again, we were too tainted to even read the old tongue aloud to the students. We did this to ourselves.”
I wasn’t sure if Gavriel’s expression of disgust was for them or himself, for allowing the Guides to grow so weak. “What have you been teaching… Never mind. You know the way to the storage room?”
The bald Guide stood, stammering, “We’ll take them to get instruments, but… we haven’t played in so long.”
“We’ve never played anything,” one of the Protectors said, his voice quivering.
I sighed. Thank goodness I’d once been a foster child for a motivational speaker back on Earth.
