I open my mouth to try and answer him, but I’ve got nothing. Nothing that won’t take an hour to explain, anyway.
As the light dies away, we get a clearer look at what’s inside, and it isn’t anything I could’ve guessed or expected. It’s far bigger on the inside than it seems. There’s an engraved silver tablet, and next to it, perfectly preserved, is a kind of plant I’ve never seen before—
No, that isn’t quite right. I have seen it once, back at the room above the dram shop when I’d hallucinated all that greenery. This had been one of them, a slender purple flower with a bright-green stem and long, elegant, triangular leaves.
Beneath both of those items, curled into a tight ball, is a… I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like a tiny automaton except it’s not made of metal and naphtha. It’s warm and organic like Orion and me, covered in short, light-reddish-brown hair, with brushes of white around its little black nose. I think it has to be a statue or carving of some sort at first, but then I notice that its chest is moving, slowly and gently, up and down.
It’sbreathing.
“Orion.” My voice sounds strangled and tight. “What the fuck.”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” He reaches in and carefully picks up the silver tablet, leaving the plant and the breathing thing where they are for now as he scans the words carved into it.
“What does it say?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the creature. Or maybe the truth is I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Part of me knows that if it moves, opens its eyes, proves it’salive, everything around me will change at such a fundamental level that I’ll never get it back to how it was before. And I’m balanced on a knife’s edge, not sure which one I want more.
Orion frowns deeply, looking frustrated. “It hardly says anything at all. It’s just—”
To whomever finds this,
Proof of life. There are answers at the gate. Find me there.
Signed, Samuel Covenant
Now that does make me look up. “Covenant? As in, theHeraldCovenant?”
Orion digs his knuckles into his eyes. “I just wanted an absurdly big diamond or maybe a handbook on how to take down the Heraldic Ministers. Is that too much to ask?”
My eyes fall back to that hairy creature, and heart pounding, I reach in and touch it with one tentative finger. It’s soft, so very soft, and beneath my fingertip, I can feel a tiny heart pulsing away in its chest. Trinity’s song swells inside me and it feels likethe ground is tipping underneath my feet as I scrabble for purchase, for understanding.
Bells cut through the air, bringing me back to myself.
The chapel bells of Concord are ringing.
Whipping around, I dash out of the room, across the house, skidding to a stop by the front windows. With a trembling hand, I ease back the gauzy curtain and look out at the quiet town street beyond.
Something drops out of the sky and lands right in front of the house, the heavy impact of metal upon metal vibrating in my ears. The shape unfurls to its full towering height. A giant construction of metal in the rough shape of a person, with enormous wings made of viciously sharp metal feathers, and a mask of exaggerated human features, fixed in an expression of frozen benevolence. An impossibly long broadsword sits on its back, and a golden glow emanates from its eyes and smiling mouth and from between every crack and crevice in its plating.
An Archangel.
Looking straight at me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“EVEN AS THEY GAVE LIFE TO TRINITY, THE HERALDS KNEW THAT THEY WOULD HAVE TO LEAVE IT AND DEPART THROUGH THE GATE OF HEAVEN. THEY CREATED ARCHANGELS TO WATCH OVER US, TO BE OF OUR WORLD, TO SERVE AS THEIR EYES AND EARS AND HOLY PRESENCE.”
—THE DIVINE ORIGINS OF TRINITY, THE ARCHIVAL COUNCIL OF THE HERALDIC MINISTRY
Dread clutches at my ribs, making it hard to breathe. Apparently even three or four days was too generous of an estimate. The Archangel is here for me. To collect the wayward saint who should’ve been taken to the Gate of Heaven twelve years ago.
I should have ignored what Halle said about wanting me to stay with them and left while I had a chance. Whiletheystill had a chance.
I turn back to the house. Atlas and Liren are already standing in the living room, drawn by the noise, and they’re just who I need to see.
“Halle and Kelda are upstairs,” I tell them, meeting their eyes with a plea in my voice. “Can you…”
“We’ll take care of them,” Liren says without hesitation, looping their arm through Atlas’s. He doesn’t say anything, but gives me a solemn nod, which is as good as a promise for him.
I nod back and then dart out into the hallway to grab my kit, throwing my goggles on my head and my knives into my sheaths as quickly as I can.
