Kaybree Versus the Angels

by Harrison Paul

CHAPTER EIGHT

  Runes and Angels

  "Kaybree."

  I still didn't know how he knew my name. But he said it with such tenderness and care that invading my dreams seemed an insignificant crime. His face glowed with incandescent splendor and his eyes pierced my soul. My head felt fuzzy as my mind floated across the bridge from dreams to consciousness. His presence seemed to eclipse our surroundings. "Who are you?" I asked.

  "And so shall the light burst forth in darkness," he intoned, switching to a recitation voice. "A light that sears the very roots of creation shall rise. Thus the Judge of the Almighty shall strike swiftly against it, to save the people from its wrath. Unknowing they shall follow, like lambs to the slaughter, as the Beast leads them. But the righteous shall not rest until the Beast is destroyed." The Angel seemed to look into my soul. "For if one of my servants shall fall, saith the Almighty, two shall arrive in their place."

  My heart sank. This was another warning, and one I comprehended. The Angels would keep coming until they found what they wanted. "What should I do?"

  As before, my voice fell on deaf ears. "I am an Angel of the Almighty," he said.

  "Then why are you talking to a Witch?"

  He continued, unfazed. "They are coming for you. But if you repent of your sins, you may be saved."

  "What sins?" I asked. I was waking up now, and my mouth felt parched and clammy. "What's this whole 'searing light' about, anyway? Can't you just tell me what to do?"

  "May the Almighty watch over you." His voice faded as his form vanished, and I opened my eyes. I sat up in my bed, inside my tiny room in the sagekeep. I wiped a few beads of sweat from my face. Had I seen an Angelic vision, or were my fears haunting my dreams? I climbed out of bed and washed my face at the washbasin, shuddering from the cold water in the pitcher. I dried off and considered today's wardrobe. I had relic class scheduled this morning, but now that I was banned from touching the relics, I had free time to study.

  I settled on a lace-up white overgown with a black scarf, matching belt cinch, and fox fur gloves, with my hair braided in the back. In light of the Angel's warning, I kept my favorite clothes packed safely away from my hands, as they had a tendency of setting things on fire. I grabbed a quick breakfast and headed over to the history classroom, hoping that Jans could assuage my fears about this Angel. Not that I would reveal that I'd been seeing visions, but he might provide some important leads. Perhaps all Witches dreamt of Angels when their powers awakened. Knowing I conversed with imaginary people would be a mixed comfort, but at least it would mean that Sir Angel out there wasn't seeing my hair when I woke up in the morning.

  When I reached Jans's classroom, he wasn't there. I walked around the empty room for a bit, wondering where he might have gone. What do the sages do when they aren't teaching? I thought of their religious duties, or of Jans's scholarship. Then again, why leave his classroom for long if he kept his books here?

  My eyes caught a title on one of the bookshelves. The spine of the book had runes on it, and the leather cover was worn and tattered, but one word was written in our language: Judge. The visions from the Angel had mentioned the Judge of the Almighty, like he was a person ready to mete out judgment. I took the book from the bookshelf and opened it. It had pictures of weathered stones with place names I hadn't heard of, with text next to the pictures explaining what the runes carved onto them meant.

  I tried to read the text, but it didn't make any sense. Maybe Mira can make sense of this. I glanced around for Jans, but figured that he wouldn't mind if I borrowed one book from him. I would even buy him a nice gift for letting me use it.

  I stowed the book back in my room and read a little more of my father's journal to pass the time until riding class. It spoke of his excavations around the forest, and the relics they had found. Some of the relics had runes carved into them. They thought these were the objects that allowed the sages of the past to communicate with the Angels, and the runes were inscribed with the name of a particular Angel who the possessor could speak to.

  But not just anyone could speak to the Angels, according to my father's companions. One of them, a sage, claimed that only the pure of heart who were chosen of the Almighty could do it. That made me wonder if anyone else saw Angels. I didn't feel chosen, especially with a title like "Witch" given to those with my powers. And if so, how was I supposed to understand the Angel's messages?

  I headed to riding class to meet Mira and ask her more. When I walked into the stables, I could hear the rangir chatting with one another.

  "Who's this noisy one?" one of the rangir said.

  "City doe," said another, with a gruffer voice. "Take them out of the wild for a few years and they turn into clankers. All that oil she's wearing, you could smell her from a mile off."

  I scowled at the rangir. "I know what you're saying," I said, hoping it would either quiet him or impress him. It was unsuccessful on both counts. He snorted and muttered to his rangir friends about how inconsiderate people were, eavesdropping on their conversations.

  "Don't mind him," said another voice. "He gets defensive when he's surprised. Survival reflex."

  I recognized the voice. "Signy!" One of the grooms shot me a strange look, and I cleared my throat and pretended to inspect her. I adopted a condescending voice, like people used to talk to their pets. "Oh, wonderful, girl, you still look like you're in good shape. I hope they've kept running you hard to keep your strength up."

  "He's not looking anymore, Kaybree," Signy said, leaning over to lick my hand. She looked me in the eyes. "And for the record, never speak to me like that again, or I'll bite your hand off. You make me sound like a witless sled dog."

  "Sorry," I whispered. "I didn't want him to think I was crazy. Not just anyone can talk to a rangir."

  Signy flared her nostrils. "Oh, lots of people can. People like you, of course, but also some others who are particularly attuned to animals. Even so, it's a pleasure to see you again. And in one piece."

  I smiled. "Thanks to you."

  "I hardly did anything," she said. "You're the Witch around here."

  "That's right," I said. "I've been meaning to ask you: What do you know about Witches?"

  "Come on, everyone," the riding instructor called out, waving us over. "Time for class. You can get to know the animals later."

  Signy flared her nostrils and scratched the side of her head against the pen. "Don't hold your breath. I probably know about as much as you do. Now you'd better head over."

  "Okay. See you soon."

  Over by the instructor, I spotted Mira. She waved to me. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Have they let you inside the stables before?"

  "Well, I've been here once," I said. "I met one of the rangir during the Angel attack. They brought me back here before they took me to my mother."

  Mira nodded. "That's great, but I don't think they'll let us actually go riding for a while." She gave the instructor a sidelong glance. "You know, we have to learn about safety first."

  A group of students in our class had gathered around the instructor. There were twenty or thirty of us, including Danelle and her entourage. It irked me that we seemed to have every single class in common. "So do you know anyone else in our classes? They don't seem to talk to you much."

  Mira glanced away. "It's kind of strange," she said. "I don't usually talk this much to people. All of them already have their friends from their families' alliances, so I never really get to know anyone." She pointed to a girl with fiery red hair, who was helping the instructor pull down one of the rangir harnesses for a demonstration. "I know Calli. We were partners last year in relics class. But we don't talk much outside of class." Calli looked like the girl I'd saved from the tentacle creature. But she didn't seem to recognize me when our eyes met, so I just smiled and looked away.

  "I heard you were hurt in the Angel attack," Mira said. "Should you be walking around like this? It's only been three days."

  "I wasn't hurt too badly," I said. "My mothe
r wanted to make extra sure, so she kept me up in her tower for a bit longer."

  "Oh." Mira bit her lip. "Did you get to meet her, then?"

  "Yeah. Her secretary actually saved me from the Angel. I'm glad you made it away from the wolf attack. Did our rangir make it too?"

  "They made it back. But we were all worried about you. They just told us that Lady Andreya had you up in her tower. You didn't see anything up there, did you? Like, how she fights the Angels?"

  Just a little. "I saw a few things, and I actually had some questions for you. I found a book that I wanted to see if you could read. It has runes and stuff."

  "Sure!" Mira said, smiling. "I'll help you however I can."

  The instructor called us to order with the bellow of a horn and started class. I yawned as the instructor demonstrated sitting in a rangir saddle, and how to use the reins and harnesses. I'd been riding rangir since I was a child, and besides, now I could simply speak to the rangir to give commands. I did make a show of listening, though. The last thing I needed was my classmates discovering I could talk to animals as well as set rooms on fire.

  We split into groups, each one with a harness and a saddle to try out on one of the rangir. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Hello, ladies. Need some help there? I happen to be the master of saddling and taming wild beasts." It was Willard. He grinned at us, holding harness and saddle.

  "You're Willard, right?" I said.

  He winked. "Willard Matthias, at your service." He glanced around at the rangir in the pens and rubbed his hands together. "Shall we wrestle up a rangir to saddle?" He led us around to the rangir who weren't being saddled by the other students. Attendants stayed nearby in case one of the rangir got angry and decided to headbutt someone. Mira and I followed him, though I still could not understand his intentions. His casual yet confident attitude led us along behind him.

  We passed by Signy's pen, where she stood alone. "So he's looking to 'tame' a rangir," Signy said, flaring her nostrils. "Let's see him try."

  I motioned toward her. "Hey, Willard, what about this one? She looks like she should be easy to handle."

  He stopped and opened up her pen. "No problem." He held up the saddle. "Now, for a demonstration. You see, the key to handling a rangir is to establish who's in control from the beginning." He threw the saddle onto Signy's back, and started tying the harness on her face. But she nudged the harness away. He tried to set it back on, but she threw it off, and then bucked the saddle off too. Willard caught it before it hit the ground and threw it back on. "Now, this one is being a little difficult, so all you have to do is—"

  Signy snorted. "Amateur," she said. She threw the saddle off again. "The first step is to establish a relationship of trust. But of course you nobles wouldn't think of that, would you?" Willard tried once more, and this time Signy lowered her head and rammed him with her antlers. I winced as he fell onto the ground beside the pen, landing on his backside.

  I knelt down beside him, offering a hand to help him up. "Are you all right?"

  He rubbed his lower back. "Don't worry. This happens all the time. Rangir can be stubborn creatures, you know."

  We heard laughing behind us. "Do all the undesirables have a loser compass or something?" Danelle said, flipping her hair back. "They all seem to end up finding you."

  Her constant appearances were wearing on my patience. I arched an eyebrow at her. "So that explains it, Danelle. I've been wondering why you talk to me every day."

  Rather than respond, she continued past us and joined another group trying to saddle a rangir. Mira and I helped Willard to his feet, and he brushed himself off. He shook his head. "Let's try this again."

  I grabbed the saddle. "Maybe I should give it a try." I walked over to Signy, smiling and muttering under my breath, "How do we lose this guy?"

  Signy leaned over and let me put the saddle and harness on her. "I'm not sure you can. He came over and talked to you for a reason."

  "Great," I said, glancing back at Willard. He frowned at us, as if perplexed at my success with the rangir in light of his colossal failure. "Brother Jans seems to think he's all right, though." Thinking of Jans brought to mind the mission he'd given me to explore my mother's writings. I fastened the harness, keeping it loose to ensure that Signy wouldn't headbutt me. "By the way, do you know where I can find any of my mother's papers? I'd like to know what she's doing. Do you ever hear about things like that?"

  Signy settled into the harness. "Not sure," she said, flaring her nostrils. "Have you thought of checking the tower?"

  I rolled my eyes and whispered back. "I'm not stupid. Where else would I check?"

  "Well, that's my only advice. Doesn't she have official scribes to write reports to the king?"

  I thought of the library archives I'd passed on my way to the tower keep. I could begin my search there. "Good idea." I stroked Signy's fur. "I'll come back and visit you sometime. Maybe I'll sneak in and we can go for a ride."

  She snorted. "Bring your friend the 'tamer' too," she said. "We can all have a good laugh."

  "He's not that bad. Not enough that I'd want to see him get a broken neck."

  "Give it a few weeks," she said. "You might change your mind." I glanced back at Willard, and he grinned. Oh, well. Being followed around was the closest I had come to making friends, and maybe it was close enough to count.