Their golden face had gone a lighter shade as I spoke. “But I would end up in the Celestial Realm after a few short years?”
I hummed slightly. “Humans are given much grace since they aren’t born understanding how important it is to stand against the shadows, to choose the good, every day of their lives. We, on the other hand, know what’s at stake. If you made every righteous choice in that fully human life, never lying, or cheating, or putting yourself above others… never crawling over another to get more than your fair share…” I let my voice trail off as Ambition swallowed audibly. “Then I’m certain you would be welcomed directly into the Celestial Realm. If not? If you made even one single mistake, your soul would almost surely fester in the Abyss for a very long while.” The Guide tried to step away from me, but I had my hand hooked around the wing joint securely. “Would you like to begin that journey now? I can take your wings for you.”
They froze, and said in a whimper, “Please don’t. I apologize, High Angelus Gavriel. I should have known...”
“Yes, you should have,” I agreed. “I heard many things today that concerned me. Protectors spouting untrue information and ridiculous questions. Mikhail and I thought the teachings in Sanctuary were going on as they should, but it seems some of the more important lessons are being left out. Expect to have someone monitoring your lectures, Guide.” I let my glare land on all the Guides in the space, one by one. “All of you.”
“You, High Angelus?” Hope, one of our most advanced Protectors, stepped forward as I let Ambition go. “You’ve been gone so much. I, for one, would welcome a more consistent presence here. Especially with High Angelus Mikhail…” Her voice trailed off, and I saw true fear in her eyes. This one, at least, understood what was at stake.
I waved the rest of the crowd away, and waited until they left—many of them still grumbling—before lifting a hand, gesturing for Hope to continue.
She stepped close, murmuring, “High Angelus, please stay here, at least for a while. We’re all frightened. And some of what I’ve heard… frightens me more than whatever Feather did to the gate.” She seemed nervous to admit to being afraid.
For a moment, my mind flashed back two thousand years, when my own High Angelic mentor, Haneul, had comforted me after a battle with a shadowed demon that had grown strong enough to crawl out of the Abyss. Her words echoed in my mind. “Remember, young Gavriel, that sharing fear is the first step to defeating it. Sharing your weakness is how you grow strong.”
I had believed Haneul then; she had been like a wise older sister to me. But she was gone, ascended. I stared into Hope’s fearful eyes and knew she needed me to be the confident, fearless leader she had always known. I stuffed away my weakness, my almost overwhelming fear for Sanctuary’s future, and shook my head. “My presence on Earth is even more vital now. I must keep an eye on the balance. I’ll assign you and Valor to monitor the lectures. Righteous will take my position while I’m gone. All will be well.”
“High Angelus.” Her burnished gold eyes widened. “Righteous hasn’t been himself for some time. He… At the Great Gate, he…” She stammered a bit longer, and I shook my head. I had been completely focused on Feather and then Mikhail, and though I had witnessed some sort of scuffle between Righteous and Feather’s friend Sunny, I didn’t see what had Hope so distraught.
Righteous was by far the most advanced Protector who hadn’t taken the robes of a Guide and dedicated himself to teaching. After his unfortunate incident with Feather in the Maker Hall, he’d worked hard to redeem himself in my eyes andMikhail’s. I didn’t yet trust him to lead Sanctuary long term. He wasn’t ready to become a High Angelus and take on a greater role. But he would need to be soon.
I dismissed Hope with instructions to see if Mikhail was awake and would see me, and also to send Righteous to my rooms. She gave me a questioning look, but didn’t hesitate. I knew it was cowardly to send a subordinate to face Mikhail’s possible wrath, but I had no time.
I flew along the rooftops of Sanctuary, ignoring the calls from both Guides and Protectors for my attention. When I reached my rooms, I crossed to my chest, opened it with a word, and began donning my armor. If the Abyss was plotting to attack the Celestial Realm, I would need to be ready.
In moments, I had on my full armor, with the sword that had been granted to Sanctuary’s first leader, my missing friend Seraphiel, secured in its scabbard. I was heading for the door when Righteous knocked.
“Enter.” When he did, I blinked. The usually neatly turned-out Protector looked harried, almost panicked.
“Hope came to the Maker Hall. She said you had a task for me.”
I nodded grimly. “How is Mikhail? Will he… see me, before I go?”
He didn’t answer, but his expression told me everything I needed to know, and that what I feared was true. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sent a mental apology directly to Mikhail. His soul was closed to me, though, and I heard no hint of an answer.
“I have to go, Righteous.” I was almost glad to leave Sanctuary; staying here now would be more painful than any battle I would fight with the shadows on Earth.
“Hope said you wanted me to lead in your absence,” he blurted out. The Protector’s dark hair, which was usually overly coiffed in my opinion, looked like he’d been running his handsthrough it repeatedly. As I stared, he did just that, tugging at it. “I can’t lead Sanctuary. I’m not worthy.”
I could not have been more shocked, or pleased. The Righteous I had known was almost too certain of himself. “That’s good. That you think you’re not worthy of leadership is the first sign that you’re right for the job.” He ducked his head at my praise. I strode over to him and grasped his forearm. “Righteous, I have failed you. I haven’t spent the time preparing you for this task and—” He tried to interrupt, but I gripped his arm harder. “I would take you with me now to train you in this type of battle, but I can’t leave Sanctuary without a leader.”
“Valor—” he began, and I shook my head. Valor had once been a candidate even more promising than Righteous. But in the past few centuries, I had seen the signs of imbalance moving about his energy in a way that made me wonder if he had some sort of stain on his soul that couldn’t be seen.
It seemed far-fetched; all our choices and decisions were translated directly onto our external forms here. There should be no way to conceal an imbalance of the soul. But the frantic mob that had formed only days before, when they had suggested using Arabella’s flesh to bolster the failing gate, had shocked me to the core. Fear and anxiety pervaded the realm, and made it harder to read individuals. Valor, though… there was something off about him. He wore a shroud of anger and pride, and I wondered what his skin looked like under his robes.
I knew mine wasn’t as clean as a leader’s should be. The odd smell I’d noted earlier, when surrounded by the Guides, came to mind. I had been closed off for so long, mired in my own pain. I hadn’t been reading the spiritual and mental currents here in far too long. I sniffed the air slightly, causing Righteous’s eyes to flare.
“High Angelus?”
There was no scent in the air now, and I shook the thought away. “Righteous, there’s a lot I should have taught you by now, but I never had time.” He began to protest, but I waved him to silence. “I’ve left a scroll in your room; keep it secret. It’s a map of the hidden passageways in Sanctuary. As acting leader, you should know of those.” He nodded, his eyes wide. “When I return, I’ll share more vital secrets. How to read the currents of the balance on the greater scale on Earth, and here as well. I’ve told you something of the way that Sanctuary’s energy is balanced, but not enough.”
“You hinted that it pulls energy from you and High Angelus Mikhail,” he offered, his eyes shuttered.
“From any High Angelus. It’s only one of the reasons we need you to ascend. That, or learn the deeper work I do on Earth, and take my place there, so I can remain here while Mikhail recuperates.” I sighed heavily when Righteous dropped his eyes in shame. Pulling his arm up, I glanced at the stain in the shape of a boot that marred the perfect, golden skin on the underside of his bicep. “You must pardon yourself for that failure in Italy, and ascend. Let go of that stain.”
“It’s too late,” he said softly. “The one I failed is gone.”
“We’ve spoken of this. Unless you forgive yourself, your smut from that earthly mission will remain. The humans who were involved have long since gone on to the Abyss or the Celestial Realm. It’s your guilt that’s keeping it there.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I spoke over him. “The only other way a stain like that could stay is if you had committed some grievous harm to someone in Sanctuary, Righteous. And although you’re known for being condescending to your colleagues, you’ve never damaged one of?—”
