Righteous
Iwoke in a room filled with music, blue light, and sorrow. So much sorrow.
My heart pounded sluggishly, and I wondered if Mikhail had slipped away. I couldn’t sense his spirit. But then I felt his fingers tighten on mine, and I rolled to my side. His physical form was diminished, but more frightening was his negligible soulfire. It was a guttering candle flame in a strong wind. I feltfor the lines of power, though the focus it took to do so left me nauseated.
Shit. They’d tilted too far when I slept, and he’d taken on more of the burden than he should.
“Lie back, young Righteous Arm of Justice.” Sabriel was sitting across the room in a gleaming, golden rocking chair. “You cannot help what he has chosen to do. It is in his nature.” She looked up from what looked like a ball of coarse yarn and a collection of knots. “Mikhail takes on more of the burden than his share alone, and is in danger of attempting to carry more than he can survive. It seems he doesn’tcare,” she said, raising her voice slightly and glaring at the Maker, “if that also means the destruction of his beautiful, innocent mate.”
Mikhail’s eyes flew open, and I stared into the turquoise and black depths. He squeezed my hand again, and grunted, “Not.”
It was the first word he’d spoken since Feather had left the realm, and for a moment I just breathed in relief. Then I asked, “Not what?”
“Not… innocent.” He panted each word, like he was pushing a boulder uphill with his breath. “All… an act.”
“Don’t tell on our little mate,” I murmured, grasping his hand tighter with both of mine. I could feel him fading by the second. “She deserves a clean slate up here. If they believe she’s the sweet thing she looks like, they’ll never see her coming.”
Humor glimmered for a moment in those eyes… and a farewell. He closed them again, and I watched as his face seemed to crumple. Like an empty paper bag being tossed away. “What’s happening?” I rasped.
“Mikhail the Great-Souled is dying,” Sabriel said, rocking gently. “This task, when combined with all that has gone before, has weakened him. His vessel is failing. He will return to the Maker of All, and be reborn someday into another form, anotherlife.” Her eyes flickered to the ceiling. “As will you, young Righteous. And Feather, and Gavriel.”
“It’s not right.” I protested, feeling anger fill my veins. Anger and energy. I gripped Mikhail tighter, forcing the righteous indignation, the rage at the lack of justice in this whole clusterfuck, into his arm.
It was eerie, and horrible to watch, but it worked. In a few moments, Mikhail seemed to reinhabit his body.
Sabriel’s smile shone like the moon in her ebony face. “Hmm, I like that fire. I can see why he welcomed you into their bond.” She made a few more knots, and held something up to the light, inspecting it. It was ugly as fuck, a mass of burnt orange and mustard yellow nylon yarn, knotted into... a turtle, perhaps?
“It’s supposed to be a children’s character called Spongepants, I believe. I’ll try again.” With a flick of her hand, she unraveled the whole mess and started knotting again. “Is there any limit to your love for the sacrifice?”
“For Feather? Absolutely none. I would do anything for her, give anything to?—”
“Yes, yes,” she snapped. “I know what you would do for her. But what will you do forhim?” She nodded at Mikhail. “I have spoken at length to Imriel, and we have read through some of the oldest of our ancient teaching songs together. There is a way to sever the bond between Mikhail and Feather, which would save her life. He will die, of course. But you would not. You would retain your mate, and she would still have you here as a tether.” She hummed, looking up at the ceiling again. “Indeed. And the child, and Sunny, of course.”
“You would sever their mate bond?” I asked. “And let Mikhail die?” I was horrified. Whowerethese people? This was supposed to be the Celestial Realm, a place filled with hope and light and justice. I breathed through my teeth to keep fromcursing this Celestial, and the realm, and even the Maker Herself if this was the kind of solution they thought acceptable.
Those dark eyes, turned sly, now held a twinkle of humor—or approval. “Well, there is one other way. But it would take a sacrifice on your part.”
“I’ll do it.” She took a breath as if to argue, and I shook my head. “No arguing. He doesn’t have long. Tell me what to do, and I will see it done.”
She sucked at her teeth, doing a credible impression of an old crone, though she looked as timelessly young as the rest of us. “If you create a bond with Mikhail—if you place one of your own feathers next to the one on his arm, it would act as a tether to your soulfire. An emergency battery, of sorts. You would both be tied to each other’s fates, of course. And there would be… a deeper relationship between the two of you, than you have had until now.”
I swallowed hard. “I would be Mikhail’s mate?” I glanced down at him. I loved Mikhail, but only as?—
“As a brother,” Sabriel finished with a laugh. “Yes, it would be exactly that. You would in truth be family. Sharing the same spiritual material, in a way.” She peeked at the ceiling again, and I did the same, just to see what was there. When I looked back at her, she was grinning like a fool. “Gotcha.” She winked. “And if it grows into another sort of love over the course of time, no one will find it at all strange.” She stood, bundling the crappy yarn on her lap and setting the silver scissors she’d been using to cut the ends on the bed next to me. “I’ll just leave you to it. Save your brother, Righteous Arm of Justice.”
As soon as she left, I grabbed the scissors and examined them. They seemed like normal sewing scissors, but the very edge of the blades gleamed with an almost blinding blue fire when I tested them. I was still in pain, but the anger I’d felt had given me a rush of power, and I extended one wing, reaching fora feather that was the approximate size of Feather’s mate mark. I snipped it off, relieved at how easy and painless it was.
For some reason, I glanced at the ceiling and murmured my thanks. Then I lifted Mikhail’s arm in my hands and pressed my feather next to hers. He wasn’t breathing now, though he hadn’t deflated again. I could sense a spark of life inside him, but I had a feeling he was only kept alive by my hand on his arm. I hoped I was in time to bring him back.
“You told me you’d do anything to save her. That means saving you, brother. So please don’t punch me when you wake up and see this.”
I took a deep breath, and sang his name. I knew it, since I’d heard him singing the full thing when we’d merged with Feather. “Mikhail the Great-Souled, Maker of Sanctuary, Beloved of Feather, the Beautiful Sacrifice,” I began, following it with Feather’s entire name, just to be certain the feather took. I was shocked when the fringed edges of mine seemed to flow into and connect with her feather. Interlocking, like puzzle pieces clicking home. “I, Righteous Arm of Justice, Soulmate of Feather, the Beautiful Sacrifice, known as Anaconda Pants, join with you in the name of our beloved as brothers from this moment on.”
Mikhail’s eyes shot open, and he took a huge, noisy breath. We breathed together for a few minutes, me struggling with the added burden of pain he had been shielding me from, and him buoyed by the sudden relief. I could feel my feather, as well as both of Feather’s, humming with what felt like excitement.
“What is that?” I wondered aloud.
Mikhail snorted. “We each have a small piece of our beloved inside us. And now, at long last, there is a piece of you inside me. And it appears our little mate’s feathers are as ridiculously happy as she would be at that prospect.” I curled my lips under, trying not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. He slapped a broad, calloused hand on my shoulder and smiled, his dimple flashing.“Don’t get any ideas. That’s the only part of you going in me for at least a thousand years.”
