by Kyra Quinn
I stopped into ten places before lunchtime, everywhere from a steel forge to a tailor’s shop. Recognition sparked in everyone’s eyes the moment I mentioned Remiel’s name, but their answers matched Maev’s. No one knew where to find him. No one would say if he still lived in Mulgrave. The most help I got came from the daughter of a seamstress who suggested I try the Temple at the far edge of town.
It took the better part of the afternoon to reach The Temple. For hours, neatly trimmed grass crunched beneath my feet. Water trickled somewhere to the east as I trudged through the thick mossy forest.
I’d expected to find a tall, pristine structure in the center of town filled with offerings. Faomere had four places of worship, all well-kept and maintained with diligence over the years. The people of Mulgrave, however, didn’t appear to share the same devotion.
Mulgrave buried their only Temple in a forest on the outskirts of town. A monstrous silk cotton tree grew from the center of the building and reached for the sky. Roots the size of my torso stretched from the roof down the stone walls towards the soil below. Silver fern littered the front steps. Massive stone walls surrounded the area in an open circle, the rocks covered with moss. I took a step closer and rested my hand on a marble column which supported the domed roof. Someone had carved a depiction of the goddess Cimera into the limestone, her eyes closed and a small smile on her lips. Air caught in my chest as I surveyed the abandoned but majestic building. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. It wasn’t much to look at now, but the detail in the architecture alone made me question if it had once been the finest Temple in Astryae.
If the seamstress was right, Remiel had to be the only person in Mulgrave to visit the Temple in years. From the neglected landscape and the weathered stone, the building resembled an abandoned relic better than a place of holy worship. Why would anyone, angel or man, visit the desecrated ruins? Was he bound by a sense of obligation to the so-called worldly home of the gods he served?
William would have never allowed me to enter the decrepit ruins of a building. I glanced towards the entrance to the Temple, my body cold. A pair of roots twisted together in an arch over the doorway. How dark would the inside be? And how could I be sure the angel was inside there?
“Only one way to find out.” I drew a deep, shaky breath and took a step closer to the doors. My heart hammered against my ribs as my limbs tingled. You’re dead no matter what if you don’t find this angel. Get your ass in there.
I gripped the handles and dug my heels into the ground as I yanked the heavy doors with all my strength. I gritted my teeth and pulled, the muscles beneath my skin burning. When the door budged, the rusted hinges creaked. A loud groan echoed through the forest as I used my shoulder to push the opening wide enough for me to step through.
A pitch-black inside awaited me. I reached forward to feel for obstacles and walls as I tiptoed into the Temple. The empty stone interior magnified the sound of every step. Dust choked my throat as shadows came into focus. I blinked as my eyes struggled to adjust to the change in lighting. Pillar candles sat inside silver sconces along the wall, the metal covered in dust. The rest of the Temple remained shrouded in shadows. I squinted and scanned the area for matches, but dust and debris covered everything.
My voice shook as I attempted to imitate what Maev had done at the tavern. “Lights?”
I jolted as the candles flickered to life. The flames cast an eerie, intimate glow over the room. A small smile spread over my lips. Neat.
An old altar stood near the front of the Temple. Cobwebs and dust covered the timber. No recent offerings decorated the surface, the practice forgotten or abandoned. Patches of black mold clung to the ceiling, the air humid and stale. The center of the floor had crumbled in on itself. All that remained was a massive pit. A statue of the Goddess Namis stood to the left of the altar, her expression solemn. Her right hand clutched a mighty spear, a brass owl perched on her right. A design of intricate spirals and curls decorated the breastplate of her armor.
Father’s face shot into my mind. Of all the deities we praised, he’d always favored Namis. The only times Father prayed aloud in my youth, he had not prayed to Cimera. He prayed to Namis for wisdom and Rhayer for strength.
I rested my hand against the cool marble. My heart skipped as I cleared some dust from her face. Even in her forgotten state the goddess was fearsome. Did the gods care for us after all these years? Were they disappointed by what they saw?
Regardless, I found no sign of the angel. Wherever Remiel hid, it didn’t look like he’d been to the Temple in quite some time. I caressed the statue one last time and shuffled back towards the exit, the flames of the candles still dancing behind me. I hadn’t stayed around the tavern long enough to ask how Maev turned them off.
The fresh air against my face sent a shiver of relief down my body. I’d been too distracted to notice the way my lungs burned while inside the ruins. I staggered down the stone steps, my legs weak.
“Stop!”
I froze, my stomach in knots as I glanced over my shoulder. A woman stood on the top of the steps in front of the Temple, her arm raised as she reached for me. A knit shawl covered her auburn hair, her body small and frail.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her tone dangerous.
“Who are you?”
“Why have you come?” She took a step closer as she clutched her shawl closer to her body.
I didn’t know what answer to give her. Did I tell her about Remiel and risk the scorn of being associated with an angel again? Where had she come from?
“I wanted to see.” I gestured to the ruins. “I’m not from around here.”
“Sad, isn’t it?” Her eyes flickered towards the Temple. “Twenty years ago she was the most beautiful building in Mulgrave. What made you want to visit?”
“It’s a pity,” I agreed, the regret in my voice genuine.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
I swallowed and shifted my weight. “I thought I might find someone here, but I see I was mistaken. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here in years.”
“Only me.” She shook her head. “I try to keep up with the place as best I can, but it’s a lot of work for one little old lady.”
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I assumed no one was here.”
“No bother. It was nice to have a visitor after so long. The gods, they’ve abandoned us for a reason. Look at how much gratitude we show them for their blessings.”
Her words landed like a punch to the face. I never paid much attention to the lectures at Temple as a girl. Did the gods resent me as well? I wrapped my arms around my waist. I’d never heard an adult say something more cynical, but her words held truth. The older the world grew, the more we seemed to move away from our origins.
“I should be going.”
“May the gods guide your journey.” The woman pressed two fingers to her lips. “Blessings to you, my child.”
An indescribable sensation twisted my gut. After so much hostility in the last day, the stranger’s simple well wishes almost brought tears to my eyes. My throat tightened. “Blessings to you as well.”
I raced away from the Temple and back to Mulgrave as if the ground beneath my feet had caught fire. I had to find Remiel. I had to pray he hadn’t abandoned the port town as the gods had.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Debts to the Dead Don't Count
By the time the moon replaced the sun in the sky overhead, I’d all but abandoned hope of finding Remiel. I combed through the entire town from top to bottom, all without a single trace of the angel. From the way people reacted to the mention of his name, I couldn’t fault him for keeping a low profile. Lepers faced less social backlash.
After handfuls of sneers and rejections, diligent searching faded into aimless wandering. I hated Mulgrave. I hated everything to do with the run-down coastal crap hole. What sort of sophisticated angel of the Elysian Gardens would choose to dwell in such a p
lace?
I wandered further than intended from the center of town. My legs carried me forward as if in a daze. The noises of town faded. As a breeze brushed the skin of my face, a soft whisper filled my ears like music.
“Run, Lilianna. The world needs you.”
My body turned to stone. I blinked and furrowed my eyebrows together. I held my breath and waited, but the voice didn’t continue.
In my mindless meandering, I’d left the populated sector of Mulgrave far behind. My heart raced as I stepped over a pile of broken stones and dust. “Who’s there?”
The world needs me? What was that supposed to mean? And if the world needed me so much, why did so many things want to kill me? My eyes flitted around the ruins, but nothing moved or stood out. As far as I could tell, I was alone.
I took a few cautious steps closer to the decrepit hexagonal building. The stone and lime stucco was worn with age. An empty tower sat on top of the glazed ceramic roof. Rubble and debris cluttered the landscape around the abandoned structure. Two curved stone archways hung above a lopsided wooden door, the stone steps leading up to it reduced to a pile of rocks. The closer I ventured, the more my heart raced.
“Run, Lili. Before it’s too late.”
My mouth went dry as every hair on my body stood on end. Though I couldn’t identify the voice, I couldn’t have imagined it. It sounded too real to be a new symptom of my madness. But where had it come from, and why did it want me to run?
Never one to follow unsolicited advice—even from myself—I dropped onto the ground. I pressed my fingers into my temples and tried to think of any part of Mulgrave I hadn’t searched yet. With none of the townsfolk willing to talk, I’d have to hope to catch sight of his wings or some other identifier. But where did angels spend their time?
The longer I sat, the more my gut twisted. I did not understand what or why, but something was wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I dug my nails into the dirt. The whisper returned, the speech too quick and frantic to decipher the words.
“Going somewhere?” a familiar voice asked. “Where’s your angel?”
Thalia stepped into view, three or four men dressed head to toe in black a few steps behind her. My heart raced as I jumped to my feet. Whatever they wanted, the edge in Thalia’s voice suggested she hadn’t come to make polite conversation.
“I never found the angel. Thought I’d explore the area a little more and return home on the first train.”
“At least one of them can take a hint and leave,” one man behind her muttered. He smirked to reveal a rotten hole in his front tooth, his bald head shiny beneath the night sky.
Thalia shot him daggers with her eyes before saying, “I’m not convinced we should let you. If Remiel is your uncle, that would make you part angel. The world has enough of your kind to deal with.”
“You can’t be serious. You want to kill me because you think I might have holy blood?”
“Men have died for less.”
My entire body went winter cold. No matter what I said, it didn’t seem likely I’d convince the mob to change their minds. I started to beg, but the words died on the tip of my tongue. Thalia’s eyes turned red as she smiled in my direction. Fangs replaced her teeth, her tongue forked as she hissed.
“No!” I jumped back. Thalia’s contempt for angels now made sense. Angels and demons were mortal enemies in any version of folklore.
“Shh. Don’t fight, child.” Thalia grinned and crooked a finger in my direction. “It’ll only hurt more if you struggle.”
Shit. Think fast or you’re dead. I clenched my fists and prayed, but nothing happened. Whatever strange energy flowed through me in the woods before didn’t return. Had I used up the last of whatever blessings I’d been granted? Blast. Without weapons or magic, I was as good as dead.
Thalia and her goons advanced. Red eyes surrounded me. Realization hit me like a fallen tree branch. No wonder I never found the angel. They’d killed him, or he fled town when he learned Mulgrave was a monster haven. And I would die at their hands for the mention of his name.
“Stop.”
A voice boomed from the shadows like thunder. Everyone froze, my own feet rooted into the soil beneath me. A tall figure stepped out of the darkness and up to the platform, a blade of fire clutched in his left hand. Dirty blonde hair fell over his strong face. A tailored three-piece suit hugged his slender but defined frame, the fabric frayed and stained with dirt. A faded scar ran from an inch above his eyebrow to his chin.
“Remiel.” Thalia’s smile widened. “Come to save your niece?”
The one called Remiel fixed me with a hard stare, his blue eyes icy. “I have no kin in Astryae. But I have no intention of letting you kill her.”
Thalia cackled. “Why not, if she’s of no relation to you? She somehow knew your name. She’s knocked down every door in town looking for you today.”
Remiel’s expression didn’t change. “Let her go,” he repeated as if Thalia had never spoken.
“I don’t think so. The Dark Mother has requested an audience. The girl comes with us.”
Two of the men behind Thalia lunged for me, their claws and fangs aimed at my throat. I threw my arms up in front of my face to shield whatever damage I could as a scream escaped my throat.
Before the monsters could reach me, Remiel flew in front of me so fast I never saw his feet leave the ground. The sword sliced through both men with one swift flick of his wrist. Their heads fell to the ground and bounced as they rolled towards Thalia, their bodies crumpling to the ground. Tar-like goo oozed from their severed necks. Burned flesh permeated the air. The demons blinked in horror as I gagged. Gross.
“You’ll pay for that!” Thalia reached down and cradled a head in her arms like a newborn child, her face twisted in sorrow and rage. “I’ll have your head.”
“Go on, then. Try.” Remiel gave his sword a twirl, his eyes fixed on Thalia.
“This isn’t over,” she warned. “I’ll be back for you.”
“Looking forward to it,” he assured her. “I suggest you leave before you join your friends in the void.”
Thalia hissed, but she didn’t argue. She raised her index finger above her head and spun it in a circle. The two remaining beasts flanked her sides as they marched off the platform and disappeared into the darkness.
“Now,” the angel said, his attention on me, “I know with great certainty I have no nieces or siblings in this world. So who, pray tell, are you?”
* * *
The ginhouse sat on the edge of town, the unassuming brick building at almost maximum occupancy despite the late hour. Working women in their best gowns flattered the men at the bar, the tops of their breasts spilling from their dresses. A group of men sat at a table in the back and played cards, pipes dangling from most of their mouths. Smoke and booze perfumed the air, the buzz of conversation louder than the music.
It was the sort of establishment Father would have never permitted me to walk home in front of, much less enter. The most intimidating people in Mulgrave all appeared to congregate around the shoddy bar. No one spared a second glance as we made our way towards a table in the back. Compared to the rest of the patrons, Remiel and I appeared almost normal.
The angel ordered a drink. I filled him in on every detail I could remember from the morning of my birthday until the moment we met. Tears burned my eyes a few times, but I refused to let them fall. If I wanted the angel’s help, I had to display strength of my own.
“My apologies. Say it all again.” Remiel rubbed his temples. The glass in front of him sat nearly empty, his face twisted in frustration. “None of this makes sense.”
I laughed, the sound bitter. “You think I don’t know? One day my greatest concern in life is my eighteenth birthday, and the next a pack of flying men with fire swords slaughter my father and threaten to drag me away. My father thought you could help me. Did he know the truth? That you’re an angel?”
Remiel shook his head. “
A lot has changed since I knew your father. He had no woman back then, much less a child.”
“Who was he?”
Father never spoke much about his life before me, and I could count on one hand the number of times he’d mentioned my mother. Even if Remiel couldn’t help me, perhaps he could at least shed more light on my past.
Remiel finished his drink in one swig. “A soldier. A damn good one, too. Your father and I met during the Siege of Starbright. He saved my life. We fought on opposite sides of the war, but fate stationed us together that night. Your father, he found me injured in the brush. He dragged me out of harm’s way and kept me safe until the fire stopped falling from the skies.”
“I never knew he fought for the Crown,” I admitted. He’d never spent time in the company of soldiers or working-class men in my youth. Any time Father entertained company in my childhood, it had always been a handful of high-status Lords and Ladies. “It’s difficult to imagine him outside of high-class society.”
“How do you think he got there? He served the Crown so well the late King Ulrich granted him a title and land. I swore to him I would repay my debt in any way I could. All he had to do was ask.”
“I think my presence here is his way of asking. These things, they will never rest until I’m dead.”
“No,” he agreed. “It seems a few powerful people have a grudge against you. And you have no idea why?”
I shook my head. “I wish I did. It’d be easier to make it stop if I knew why it started.”
Remiel stroked his chin, his ice-blue eyes studying me with interest. I could almost see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out what to say or do next.
He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands into his lap. “Your story is tragic, Miss Trevil, but I fail to see what it has to do with me. As you can see, I’ve plenty of problems of my own to attend to.”