It was a loud, heinous, blaring noise that shocked Imorean out of sleep. For a moment, he was gripped by panic, fearing that something was terribly wrong, then he realized that it was simply the alarm he had set on his phone. As his racing heart calmed, Imorean rolled over in bed and turned off the alarm. It was seven in the morning. Felsenmeer, Felsenmeer. He was at Felsenmeer. He was not in a room of nightmares. That was all it had been. Nothing but a nightmare. Imorean sat up and pulled back one of the thick, orange drapes covering the sliding glass door to the balcony. Darkness was the only thing that greeted his gaze. Imorean stared in confusion for a moment, then shook himself. Of course, they were just inside the Arctic Circle, so naturally the sun wouldn’t have risen yet. It wouldn’t rise for several hours to come.
Imorean frowned, wondering if anyone else would even be awake yet. He needed to gather himself. Remind himself of reality. Being around people would help. It was possible that Michael may be up. Imorean crossed the room to the wardrobe and opened it. Inside hung several hangers full of white and gray flecked uniforms. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Winter uniforms. Imorean looked down. Even their boots were different colors here. As opposed to the dark brown ones they had had at Gracepointe, these were pale, ash gray, almost white. White hair fell into Imorean’s eyes as he shook his head. He probably shouldn’t put on a uniform. He would rather savor the last few weeks of wearing regular clothes.
The white winged boy opened his suitcase, shocked when clothes didn’t burst out of the container, and pulled out a long-sleeved shirt and sweater. Hopefully, he would be inside all day and wouldn’t have to brave the miserably cold temperatures outside. Even though he had had his wings for several months now, there were still some things that felt strange to Imorean, namely poking them through the slits in the back of his shirts where there hadn’t been any before.
Once he was dressed, Imorean settled his wings comfortably behind his shoulders and exited his dorm room. Even if no one else was awake, he would have the perfect opportunity to explore Felsenmeer on his own. Idly, Imorean wandered down the long hallway on the second floor of Felsenmeer’s main building. Michael hadn’t been lying when he’d said that the only rooms up here were living quarters. As Imorean took in all of the rooms, he wondered if Felsenmeer had been intended to be a much bigger school. From what Michael had said the night before, it seemed plausible.
Imorean looked down at the ground floor, smiling as he saw fires already burning in the twin hearths. He hopped over the railing and glided down to the first floor. Again, he looked around the large entrance lobby. The stones inset into the walls around the fireplaces was aesthetically pleasing, as were the muted, natural tones of the furniture and area rugs. There was something homey about Felsenmeer.
White wings stretched out wide and folded again as Imorean turned around in the large entrance hall, wondering which way he should go. There were two sets of double doors in the lobby, one on the right, the other on the left. Suddenly, the smell of food caught Imorean’s attention, making him realize just how hungry he was. His stomach growled at him. He turned to the right and followed the smell, hoping he was going in the right direction.
As he walked, Imorean mused that Felsenmeer, while smaller, was equally as beautiful, if not more so, than Gracepointe. In a way, though, Imorean missed the school in Norway. It had sort of become another home for him. At least at Felsenmeer, he was a little geographically closer to home. He looked around as he walked along one of the smaller halls. The rest of the building didn’t seem to be quite as lovely as the entrance hall, but it was by no means off-putting. Imorean had to wonder, though, what would this school hold for him? What was Michael planning for him and the students who would be joining himself and Roxy? Imorean sighed. He would drive himself mad if he kept questioning everything. If he ever managed to locate Michael, he would try and ask the Archangel, but he doubted that Michael would enjoy being interrogated. Imorean wished Gabriel was there, but knew that the younger Archangel still had to maintain the protective barriers over the students in the United States and at Gracepointe before he would be able to join them.
Imorean pushed open one of the heavy doors and smiled as he entered the dining hall. It was much smaller than the one at Gracepointe, but Imorean supposed that that was to be expected. The tables were smaller, most set for only four students. As he approached the small buffet of food he was glad to see that, despite their remote location, there was still normal food available.
Imorean was certain that by nine o’clock he had covered almost the entirety of the main building. He had ventured down the stairs into the basement earlier that morning, but upon feeling how cold it was, had decided to leave exploring down there for another time. The only area he had left unexplored had been the annex of the library and he was now standing outside its door. Curious, Imorean placed one hand on the handle and pulled the door open. Once inside, he smiled. It was as though he had stepped back in time. High bookshelves reached almost to the ceiling, a thick, green carpet muffled almost all sound and the dusty, dry scent of books dominated Imorean’s sense of smell. Early sun shone in through the tall, narrow windows, casting a dull, gray light into the room.
Imorean began to walk along one of the bookshelves, reading some of the titles as he went. Angelic History. The Theory of Angelic Being. Demons, Humans and Us. Imorean couldn’t help but find himself fascinated. Each one of these books had been written by an angel. He spotted Raphael’s name dotted on one of the spines. He would love to read a few of these books at some point. He was sure there would be an opportunity.
Imorean jumped as there was a heavy thud from somewhere nearby. His heart thumped a little harder in his chest. Was there someone else in here with him? He was under the impression he had been alone.
“Hello?” called Imorean softly, wondering if he would get a response. His greeting was met by silence. The young hybrid stepped forward again, moving among the shelves and searching for the source of the sound.
As Imorean progressed further into the library, he came across a large, open area with nothing but tables, plush chairs, couches and footstools in it. At one end of the library was a massive fireplace. Imorean inclined his head and approached the fireplace. It was cold, but there were a few coals still smoldering in the grate. It appeared Michael had come in here late the night before. Several chairs were arranged in a semicircle around the fireplace. Imorean paid them little mind until one of the chairs snored.
Out of reflex more than anything else, Imorean flared his wings and shot upward, landing lightly on top of one of the bookcases. Once balanced well, Imorean looked back down at the chairs. He realized immediately why one of them had snored. There had been an Archangel fast asleep in one. A book lay open on the floor just below Michael’s hand. Imorean smiled slightly. Michael must have been more tired than he had originally let on. Now that he knew what the sources of all the strange noises had been, Imorean laughed softly and felt comfortable enough to flare his wings and glide back down to the floor. He turned on his heel and was about to leave Michael to sleep when he stopped himself. Wouldn’t it be best for Michael to sleep at least a little bit in a bed? Imorean grimaced. While he wanted to do something kind for Michael, the idea of waking the irritable Archangel made him hesitate.
“I must be crazy,” murmured Imorean, turning around and making his way back toward Michael. The teenager reached his sleeping mentor and reached out a hand to shake him awake, then hesitated. He really didn’t want to start off the first day here badly.
“It is rude and ominous to watch people as they sleep,” said Michael, not opening his eyes.
“How did you know I was here?” asked Imorean, breathing a silent sigh of relief.
“I sensed your presence and I felt the rush of air as you opened your wings,” replied Michael, his pale, green eyes opening at last. “I must say, you did manage to catch me off guard. Well done.”
“Sensed my presence? That’s creepy.”
; “It is something all Archangels do naturally. I will teach you at some point.”
“Thanks, I guess. Michael, don’t you want to go to bed? It can’t be comfortable in here.”
“I should perhaps go and freshen up,” said Michael, standing. Imorean couldn’t help but notice that the Archangel seemed stiff. “But as for going to sleep, I shall not. Would you mind going and waking your Roxy friend? It does not do well to waste the day.”
“Sure,” nodded Imorean, moving to turn and exit the library. Around one of the bookcases, he hesitated. “Michael?”
“Yes, Imorean?”
“I know I’ve asked this already, but I have to be sure. Vortigern won’t go after our families, will he? I mean, he knows where we live and everything now. It would be all too easy for him to do so.”
“It would not be as easy as you think,” replied Michael. “I have posted extra angels around the houses of all the students’ families. You must also remember that we strengthened the barrier around your states after he broke through it last time. I cannot be sure, but I am hoping that that will be enough of a deterrent for Vortigern.”
Imorean nodded, looking at the floor. Against his will, memories of Vortigern surfaced. The Demon Commander, tall and poised. Always in total control. He shuddered as he remembered staring into those slate gray eyes. The murderous light glimmering in them would haunt Imorean until his dying day. He just knew it. The worst thing about Vortigern though, was his permanent smile. Every suffering was a delight to him. Imorean shook himself, chills threatening to cross his skin.
“Leave it to us, Imorean,” said Michael, taking a step toward him. “We angels will do our best to take care of things.”
Imorean didn’t feel entirely convinced. “Thanks.”
He shifted awkwardly. There were still things he wanted to ask Michael, but he wasn’t sure how open the Archangel was to questions right now.
Michael inclined his head. “What is on your mind?”
Imorean frowned. “I’ve told you to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting in my head.”
“I apologize. We are linked. It is hard to ignore and almost too easy to do. But what is on your mind?”
“A lot of stuff,” replied Imorean with a shrug, looking back up at the Archangel and stuffing his hands back into his pockets.
“Well?” prompted Michael, walking past Imorean and leading the way out of the library. Imorean fell into step next to him.
“When are the rest of the students going to get here?”
“I have already told you. They will be here in the next two weeks or so. They too will be recalled earlier than the rest of your classmates. Bear in mind there will only be around seven or eight of you. Gabriel will be arriving later today for a short while and the three of us will discuss the details.”
“Three of us?”
“Well of course. You are an Archangel as well. Naturally you will now be included in our discussions.”
“I—why did you choose me to be an Archangel?” asked Imorean, holding the door to the main building open for Michael.
“That is a hard question to answer and it is not one that I can really answer with words.”
“You know that really doesn’t clarify anything, right?”
“I am aware.”
Imorean paused as they arrived in the lobby and looked out of the windows. The snow outside was gray in the dawn twilight. “So, what kind of stuff are we going to be doing up here?”
“Felsenmeer will provide a more challenging environment than that of Upper Morvine or of Gracepointe. I believe that an elite squad will receive better training here than they would at another one of our schools.”
Imorean nodded and fell back into step beside Michael as the Chief Archangel started up the stairs to the second and third floors.
“You will also be receiving your swords here. It is time I started teaching you combat techniques.”
“Right,” replied Imorean slowly. He wasn’t looking forward to learning combat. In truth, it scared him to think of fighting a creature like Vortigern or Bethany. He stopped at the landing of the second floor.
Michael spoke again, sounding thoughtful. “You will be the first elite squad we have had for some time.”
“What happened to the last one? All bit the dust?”
Imorean folded his arms as Michael stopped short and turned on the stairs to look back at him. There was thinly masked irritation on the Archangel’s face.
“I will see you later, Imorean.”
“Wait, come on, Michael, you didn’t answer my question,” said Imorean, calling after the Chief Archangel as the latter finished ascending the stairs. His words though, fell onto deaf ears and a few moments after he asked the question, he heard the door at the top of the stairs slam.
“I guess we just ignore people when we don’t want to answer their questions,” grouched Imorean, his eyebrows knitting together.
“What are you complaining about now?” asked a voice.
Imorean turned, unsurprised to find Roxy approaching him.
“Oh, nothing really.”
“Has Michael done something already? If so, that’s a record.”
“Well, no… He’s just being Michael. Answering questions very vaguely. Nothing out of the ordinary really.”
“Were you expecting anything different?”
“I guess not. It’s still frustrating though. Have you eaten?” asked Imorean, changing the subject.
“Yeah. I just came from the dining hall. Do you think he’ll let us fly today or are we confined to the indoors?”
“You really want to go outside in this?” asked Imorean, looking outside. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“I thought you weren’t going to bring that.”
“I wasn’t, but Michael promised we would have Wi-Fi here, so I decided to.”
“Wi-Fi is the great motivator of today.”
“There is no way I’m going outside,” said Imorean, turning the screen of his phone so Roxy could see it. “It’s negative eight degrees outside.”
“Hmm. Yeah, good point. It might be a little chilly. So, what are we supposed to do for the rest of the day?”
“I mean, there’s a gym in the basement, but when I went down there this morning it was pretty cold.”
“It might have warmed up slightly,” said Roxy, sounding hopeful.
“Maybe. Come on.”
Roxy had been wrong. The gym had not warmed up in the slightest. This time though, that did not deter Imorean. His wings were practically itching. He needed to fly or he would go mad and the gym was certainly big enough. The small glides he had been doing from floor to floor weren’t enough.
Imorean flared his white wings and stretched them a few times as he looked around. It was still incredible that this much of Felsenmeer was underground. The gym here had to be roughly the same size as a football field and the ceiling was no less than fifty feet high. Of course, Imorean knew it wasn’t high enough for him to get up to a good speed in a dive, but he supposed he would have to work with it. At least he could fly. He grinned and beat his wings hard, springing up into the air. It felt odd for him to fly inside. There were no air currents and he knew he would have to work much harder to stay aloft, but perhaps that could be turned into a good thing. Imorean flew in a large circle, regaining a feel for being in the air, before tilting his wings and slipping into a shallow, slow dive. He landed lightly in the center of the gym, appreciating the almost springy surface of the polished wooden floor.
“You’ve really settled into this now, haven’t you?” asked Roxy, ambling toward him.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Imorean, folding his wings and turning to face her. “What makes you say so?”
“You just look so at home in the air. I wish I felt the same.”
“You don’t?”
“Not really. I think it’s the circumstances, but I’m not really enamored of flying. I me
an, it’s fun and it’s a great feeling of freedom… but I just want to be normal again. I want to live a normal life and be an average teenage kid.”
“I think I can understand that,” replied Imorean, settling his wings into a more comfortable position. He glanced away. His resentment of Michael and the other angels had dwindled now to almost nothing. Perhaps it was a bad thing and he was just going mad, but also perhaps it was a good thing. His life had certainly gotten much easier since he had begun to cooperate.
“I guess Michael didn’t say what he had planned for us, did he?”
“Of course not. Were you expecting anything else?”
“Well…” said Roxy, her sentence trailing off. She turned and smiled at Imorean and he returned it.
“Ah, here they are,” said someone, pushing the gym door open.
Imorean looked up to see Gabriel making his way into the gymnasium. He beamed, happy, but surprised, to see the younger Archangel.
“Hey Gabriel,” said Imorean, trotting over to him.
“Hello, Imorean, Roxy.”
“Everything okay down south?”
“As much as can be expected. Raphael is running things down there at the moment. Come on, it’s chilly down here. Michael wants to talk to both of you.”
“Why didn’t he come down here himself?” asked Roxy, coming up behind Imorean.
Angels Defying (Angels Rising Book 3) Page 3