“We won’t be taking the torches with us, Miss Hunter,” Alfred answered. “It’s better for you girls to run in the dark, so your eyes won’t serve as a distraction.”
“Being able to see is a distraction?” I said.
Alfred nodded. “It is when what you see might override your desire to run. Can’t have you stopping. For anything. You two must run straight, run strong, and not stop until you reach the end. Just keep running!”
“So the demons can see in the dark?” I asked.
“Yes, same as Gavin and me. But you needn’t worry about them. Just run as fast as you can, and let us deal with any uninvited visitors.”
The tunnel’s small girth required us to traverse it single file. We decided that Gavin would take the lead, followed by Hunter—since she was a faster runner and wouldn’t end up crashing into me—then me, and finally Alfred, who would guard us from the rear.
We stood in the doorway, tense with readiness. The inside of the tunnel was silent, and the air tasted cold, but stale. I hoped there was enough oxygen for all of us. I tried not to, but was already breathing heavily, probably using up more than my fair share.
Suddenly, Gavin pulled away from the tunnel, his face twisted with worry. “I’m sorry, Alfred, Hunter,” he said. “But before we go, I need to borrow Maren for a moment.”
He lifted a torch off the wall, grabbed my hand, and led me away, into the dark.
Once we were well out of earshot, he turned to me.
“Maren,” he said in a low whisper, “I need you to do something for me.” My fear of the darkness and the demons seemed to evaporate as he said my name. Gavin’s power over me was almost mystical. Just the tone of his voice seemed to clear my head and my heart of cobwebs, worry, and anything ugly. I imagined I could see his angel breath, rolling over me, protecting me from every angle.
He reached out and gently stroked my cheek, and I heard him inhale sharply as if touching me was too overwhelming. I could have fainted for the pure pleasure of his fingers on my skin, but I didn’t want to miss a moment.
“Mmm-hmm?” I said, not really caring what he asked, as long as he kept caressing my face.
“I need you to stay alive.”
“What?” I asked, startled.
“I need you to stay alive, no matter what. Promise me that.” I felt a flood of panic rush through me. No matter what, again? Did he know something I don’t? What is in those tunnels?
“You’re here, you’ve chosen to go with us, but I can’t have you giving up, okay?” he continued, looking so intensely into my eyes, I was afraid I might start crying. “Even if you’re taken, stay alive. I will come and find you. Promise me you’ll stay alive.”
“Why do you need me to promise that?” I swallowed hard.
“Because I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you,” he answered. “And I won’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”
My heart fell into my toes. After pining for Gavin with every ounce of my being, of praying he would like me, he was finally standing in front of me, confessing he actually loved me. Loved me. Me, the girl from Missouri. And the biggest miracle of all was that because of who he was—the most gorgeous creature I’d ever seen and an actual angel—I believed him. I could believe him. I felt deserving of his love. I felt more special than I’d ever felt in my life.
“I love you too,” I whispered back.
“Promise me, then,” he repeated.
“I promise,” I said.
“Good,” he said with a smile. He then leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t an accidental kiss this time. It was the kind of kiss that makes you believe in fairy tales and shooting stars and happy endings.
We were back at the tunnel entrance, lined up as before. Only this time, I knew Gavin loved me, and he knew I loved him. It should have made me more confident in the journey ahead, but now that we were in front of the door, now that the kiss was a memory and the darkness stretched out to eternity, it made me more scared. Now I had something to lose.
“You’re sure there are demons in there?” Hunter whispered.
“I’m afraid so.” Alfred nodded solemnly.
I glanced at Gavin, to see if he looked worried. He smiled to reassure me, but I knew he was nervous. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made me promise to stay alive.
What kind of promise was that, anyway? Stay alive. How about, “Don’t get hurt” or “Run as quickly as you can”? Stay alive? I realized that meant his biggest concern was that I would die. Actually die. And I knew why. I had pretended it hadn’t bothered me, but I couldn’t forget the horrifying sight of the demons on the cab and the cathedral roof. And I’d more than just seen them, I’d smelled their hot, acrid breath, been grabbed by their terrible claws, had heard their beyond-the-grave yowling.
I suddenly remembered the first time I’d heard the demonic screaming. Before Campbell Hall. Before I saw Gavin in the woods with Bertie. I’d heard it at my mother’s funeral.
Images of the sudden “storm” swept through my brain: the darkness, the priest running away in terror, the men from my mother’s work disappearing . . . It hadn’t been weather-related after all. Demons had interrupted my mother’s funeral. I wondered if any of those good-looking coworkers were angels. Where had they gone? I supposed they killed the visiting demons or I wouldn’t still be alive. Why were the demons there in the first place? What could they possibly get from my mom after she was already dead?
I realized with a sinking feeling that I knew. That I was carrying the answer on my back. Her secret journal. The journal that had led me here, just outside Magnificat, to the antidote. What else did the demons not want me to discover?
My mouth became desert dry. I tried to swallow, but couldn’t. There was a distinct and very real possibility that I was going to break my promise to Gavin.
I jumped up and down a little to get my blood flowing, to jerk the negative thoughts from my head. I had to get through this. Hunter needed to get to Magnificat. Jo needed the antidote. The High Council needed my mother’s journals. I would get through this. And I would be with Gavin.
I focused my attention back on Alfred and Hunter, determined to concentrate only on the present.
“And we never turn? Just run straight?” Hunter recounted.
“Yes, the tunnel ends at the door to Magnificat,” Alfred said. “Although, come to think of it, we don’t want you running right into the door. It should take you about two and a half minutes of nonstop running. If you count to one hundred fifty, with elephants, you’ll stop just in time.”
“With elephants?” I asked.
“Yeah, like ‘one elephant, two elephant’ . . .” Hunter replied.
“Oh, we use Mississippi in the States,” I said.
“Same thing,” she said.
As it turned out, it really wasn’t. The extra syllable in the muddy Midwest river caused me more physical pain than I’d ever felt in my entire life.
To give us enough room to run, we were supposed to wait for a count of five from the time the person in front of us left before we ran after them. That’s when my trouble began.
Gavin dashed into the darkness first, and Hunter stood her ground, counting out loud: “One elephant, two elephant, three elephant, four elephant . . .” Then she bent her knees like a professional sprinter and shot off.
I immediately began my count, but silently to myself: “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi . . .” I hadn’t yet gotten to number four when I felt Alfred give me a small nudge. I was confused—I’m not at five yet!—but my body responded to the suggestion, and before I knew it, I was running.
The tunnel air was much colder on my cheeks than I anticipated, probably because I was running as fast as I could. Even though I could feel my feet pounding on the ground, and knew from the burning in my chest that I was running at full speed, it didn’t feel like I was going anywhere, because it was absolutely black all around me.
“Seventeen Mississippi, eighteen Mississippi . . .”
I was somehow still keeping count in my head, even while I was noticing every little thing around me. Splash! I ran through a puddle. Whoosh! I felt the breeze of an opening to my right. Huh-huh! I heard my own breath coming out in short bursts.
Things were going well. I was up to number ninety-seven, and didn’t even have the side cramp I usually got when forced to run laps in gym class. Maybe we’d make it without any problems after all.
And then I heard the screeching.
The familiar, high-pitched yelp was in front of me, growing louder by the step, and I was running directly toward it. Blindly, in the dark.
And then I heard the screaming.
It was Hunter, and she sounded hurt, or hysterical, or both. I felt myself running faster, trying to get to her, and then, unexpectedly, as I passed an opening on my left, I heard her voice now behind me. I was running away from it. Had she been grabbed? Where is Gavin? Should I go back and help her?
My feet propelled my body forward, even as my brain begged it to stop. I felt like I was under a spell, jogging against my will. Maybe I was still running because that’s what I was supposed to do. Yes! Just keep running. Alfred and Gavin had told us just that, over and over.
But I had completely lost count. How long ago was I at ninety-seven? Was I at one hundred twenty? One hundred thirty? Was I close? Far away?
A deep boom resonated, like an underground explosion, and the entire passage shook. Tiny bits of rock and dirt fell into my face, but I just kept running.
The screeching rolled in directly behind me now, and something jerked on my hair. But I just kept running. Alfred grunted behind me. I heard him swing; something flew through the air. There was another small earthquake. More silt in my mouth. I just kept running.
And then I hit the wall. At full speed. One second there was nothing but air in front of me, and the next second I slammed into the solid end of the tunnel so hard, I actually bounced backward. I heard a sickening squeal, felt something sticky on my neck, and then . . . nothing.
CHAPTER 26
My head hurts. The thought floated to me from the darkness: “My head hurts.”
I was awake, but I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to know where I was. I couldn’t get past the pain in my head. It didn’t even feel like my head anymore; it felt like my head had been removed and replaced with a block of concrete that was being crushed from all sides. Maybe if I never opened my eyes, the pain would just go away.
As the “awake” message traveled around my body, I received reports from all appendages. My arms and legs were intact and sore, but not terribly so. I was lying down on something soft. Light registered through my eyelids in a curtain of orangey-red, so I knew I was no longer in the dark. My right hand felt slightly compressed, and I realized someone was holding it. Gavin! I popped my eyelids open.
Hunter was sitting next to me, cradling my hand in both of hers. “Maren!” she cried. “You’re awake! Blimey, you had me so worried!”
“Where’s Gavin?” I asked, propping myself up on my left elbow and immediately regretting it because of the rush of pain to my forehead. I was in a small, windowless room painted a shocking bright yellow. There were two twin beds, including the one I was lying on; two chairs, one currently occupied by Hunter; and two dressers. Behind Hunter, an arched door stood slightly ajar.
“Shhhh!” she admonished. “He’s not allowed in the Chambers. He’s with the other angels, across the river. But you’d better keep your whole romance with him a secret while we’re here. It’s not allowed, you know.”
“Where are we?” I asked.
She smiled. “Magnificat. We made it.”
“We’re all safe, then?” I asked, sinking back down in relief. I noticed the yellow ceiling was decorated with scallops and pretty designs in a darker gold color.
“Yes, we’re safe,” she said. “Well, at least . . . um . . .”
I bolted upright again. “What happened? Is Gavin okay?” My brain swelled as if an ocean wave rose and crashed inside my skull.
“Yes, yes, he’s fine,” she assured me. “It’s . . . Alfred didn’t make it.”
“What do you mean, ‘didn’t make it’?”
“He sacrificed himself, Maren, to save you. Gavin and I were behind the door to Magnificat, waiting for you, but we heard screams, and then a thunk. Gavin was ready to go back in after you but Alfred appeared, carrying you. You were out cold. He just managed to hand you off when he was pulled back in—”
“He’s . . . he’s dead? Because of me?” I felt sick. Poor Alfred. He didn’t deserve it.
“Don’t think like that,” Hunter admonished. “He’s not dead because of you; he was able to fulfill his destiny because of you. He didn’t want to sit around rotting in St. Paul’s. You gave him the opportunity to be a hero.”
Hunter had clearly lost her mind.
“Are you serious?” I said. “You can find the positive in something like this? An hour ago, you were passing out on the top of St. Paul’s, saying you couldn’t make it, and now you’re all full of wisdom about an old man getting mauled to death by demons?”
She smiled. “I know, it’s amazing, isn’t it? I’ve learned so much since we’ve been here.”
“You’ve learned so much in the past hour?”
“Well, actually, we weren’t on the roof an hour ago. It was more like three days ago. You’ve been out a long time. I’ve been checking on you constantly, of course,” she added hastily, “and sending reports to Gavin as often as I can. I even texted your grandparents from your phone, pretending to be you, so they wouldn’t worry.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Gavin’s ‘across the river’? What river? I thought we all crossed under the Thames.”
“Not the Thames,” Hunter answered. “Another river. Come and see for yourself.”
She helped me out of the bed and across the room. She opened the door, and although I’d seen people in the movies do it all the time—along with spitting out their drink when they were surprised, which I absolutely don’t believe anyone really does—I actually gasped out loud. Magnificat was more than just a location. It was an entire underground city. Made entirely of gold.
The subterranean cavern was enormous; so large, I couldn’t see the top of it. Mist swirled about where I thought the ceiling of earth must be. Hundreds of buildings of all shapes and sizes seemed to grow out of the ground and climb the walls, impossibly stacked on top of one another. Balconies, raised walkways, arched staircases, and meandering bridges connected every structure. A river swept right through the middle, down deep in the bottom of the canyon, physically separating the city in two.
Every available surface was covered in gold. The brilliance of it might have blinded me if we were anywhere near the sun, but being underground, the golden surfaces perfectly reflected the lights scattered everywhere. There were tall post lanterns, porch lights perched next to doorways, even footlights on the bridges. Magnificat, it seemed, had electricity—or some source of power, anyway.
“It’s amazing. It’s breathtaking. It’s . . . gold,” I stuttered. “Or, at least, it looks like gold.”
“No, it’s really gold,” Hunter confirmed. “Did you know gold doesn’t ever rust or tarnish? That’s why they used it down here. Amazing, huh?”
“So Gav . . . I mean, the angels are over on that side?” I pointed across the chasm.
Hunter nodded. “No fraternizing allowed. Angels are only supposed to have contact with humans in an emergency.”
Emergency. The image of Jo in her hospital bed came flooding back to me. “What about the antidote?” I asked. “Do they have it?”
“Yes,” Hunter said. “Just. The blood sample Gavin brought was infected with a really complicated poison. It took them awhile to find the right antidote.”
“Gavin brought a blood sample?” I asked.
“Apparently.” She shrugged as she led me along the main path. “He sent me a note that he’d finally gotten the antidote and was going to
take it back to Aviemore tonight. He was hoping you’d wake up in time to go back with him. If not, I think he was going to deliver it and then come back for you.”
“How could he do that? I thought we weren’t allowed to fraternize.”
“He told them about your mom’s stuff, and said he needed to escort you back for your own safety. I’m actually getting my own Guardian too, since the demons recorded my heartbeat.”
“Where’s my backpack?” I asked, feeling a protective surge for my mom’s journals.
“It’s in our room, under the bed,” she answered. “No one touched it. We were waiting to see what you wanted to do.”
“I want to turn it over to the High Council,” I said, remembering my stubborn declaration to Gavin. “Maybe they can figure it out.”
As we walked, we passed a peculiar bridge. It was the only one that spanned the river and connected both sides of the canyon. A huge ramp spiraled up from the middle of the bridge and into the clouds above. I couldn’t see where it ended, but I did see what stood at its start: two hulking angels with their wings exposed, holding what looked like swords on fire.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Exodus,” Hunter answered. “The way out. It’s the only place in Magnificat where you’re allowed to meet with a Warrior or a Guardian angel—when you’re leaving.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I told you, they’re very serious about humans and angels keeping things professional. It’s completely against the rules to fall in love with one.”
Too late, I thought, as we hurried past the scary guards. I had already fallen. Far.
CHAPTER 27
Hunter and I were walking through the enormous Magnificat Library. Like every other building in Magnificat, it made me feel small and plain with its soaring, buttressed ceilings, stained glass windows, and golden chandeliers. I felt very . . . human. Hunter didn’t seem bothered at all. Spending the last several years living in monasteries and churches must have hardened her to the grandeur. She chattered away as if we were in the mall.
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