There is no growth without pain.
“That’s not why no one wants to be paired with you, and you know it,” he said. “That may have been the reason the newer Nephil stayed away from you during your training, but the members of my platoon have seen many things, and the unplanned death of a human is small compared to what they’ve faced. A Great War may be coming, but we’ve been through many battles.”
“What then? Why do they hate me so much?”
“For one thing, you moved through the ranks quickly, and if I’d had anything to say about it, that wouldn’t have happened. But I didn’t, did I?” His silver eyes were hard. “Even after all your previous errors, Serinh insisted that I put you in an important position for the assassination. Look what happened. You almost ruined years—decades—of planning. I know you’re a Cornerstone—a fact which I have been so reminded of over and over—but I have the final decision.”
As the first Cornerstone angel in all of Heaven’s history, I was supposed to be the Source’s answers to the Aleph’s machinations. But I had no idea how or what to do, and apparently, neither did anyone else.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I mumbled.
“I very well know that. But I can no longer have you in combat when you are unable to follow orders and hold your post. And, unlike Serinh, I don’t think this is what the Source wants. Whatever Its plans for you, they do not include being on the front lines of a war. At least not yet. You’re just not ready.”
I wanted to disagree, but if I was here, in Heppeliam’s meeting room, it meant he’d had the argument with Serinh already… and won.
His face softened from hardened general to sorrowful grandfather. “It’s because you haven’t asked for any of this responsibility—and the lack of clarity around your being a Cornerstone—that I’ve been keeping you in battle. But in the end, this is my platoon. I have a duty to ensure that we win this war.”
Tears threatened to well in my eyes. Oh, that won’t do. I forced myself toward anger instead. I was being torn away from the battlefield at the most important juncture in history, right as war erupted.
“So what, then?” I said. “I become a Guardian again? Get shoved in a corner to watch over some farmer in Maryland again, far away from where the war is being fought? You know Asorat will come after me. He knows I’m a Cornerstone, and if he really is the Aleph, he’ll orchestrate some attack against me. You can’t leave me vulnerable.”
The words were spilling out. I bit my lip and looked down at my hands again instead.
“If you’re finished, I will give you your new assignment.”
“Direct from the Council of Seraphim,” I muttered.
“No, direct from me. I assume that was meant to be some ill-formed quip, so I’ll let it go. You’re not being moved to another rank. You’re staying a Nephil, but I have a need that doesn’t involve you in combat.”
I lifted my head.
He raised a bushy eyebrow. “We’ve known that Asorat’s plans are coming to fruition soon. That is quite obvious. So the Council and I have been working on a new creation. Part human, part Nephil. We’re calling them Dominions.”
My eyes widened.
“Perhaps I exaggerated. They’re still humans, but they’re more mentally resilient. We also expect them to mature faster than traditional human Cornerstones, whose preparation can take decades—and that’s only after we find a suitable candidate. This is why we petitioned the Source to create us partially human, partially angelic beings, and It agreed.”
A new type of being? My anger from earlier was slipping away, replaced by excitement.
“They’ll be raised up and trained to return to Earth as Cornerstones to oppose whatever Asorat is about to unleash. They’ll be more spiritually attuned, they’ll have flexible Incarnation Plans, and they’ll have demon-fighting abilities, like the Nephil.”
Human Cornerstones are sprinkled throughout history and tasked with directing the flow of predetermined events. My squad had interacted with over a dozen as we prepared for the Great War. The Seraphim appoint them, so everyone likes them as a matter of course, unlike me—a Source-appointed, who-knows-what-she’s-supposed-to-do angel Cornerstone.
But I was confused. “So instead of the Engineers training them, you want me to?”
“Yes, after a fashion. The first batch will be birthed today when the Seraphim complete their speeches. They’ll be taken to the Nursery in the Sanctuary rather than given to the humans. They’ll be raised apart from the other children, in the company of the Tenders… and you.”
So this assignment is just another attempt to figure out why the Source even created me.
“We don’t necessarily expect that all of them will be ready to fight when the need comes. In fact, only one or two might be because of the extremely short time they have. But even one is better than none. You heard Serinh: we have no idea what five years in the future holds.”
My excitement was fading. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you want me to go to the Nursery and raise a bunch of children?”
Heppeliam folded his meaty hands and put his elbows on the desk. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Do I have any choice?” Do I ever have any choice?
“My esteemed colleagues always have need of Keepers.” He tapped his index fingers together. “So, in a word, no.”
I took a deep breath. I held it in. I let it out. It was one of the human quirks I’d retained from my time embodied, which helped me keep my emotions under control. “I suppose, then, that I accept.”
“This is an important role, Enael. Don’t let the notion of being a nursemaid sway you from taking this seriously. I am still your Archangel and you are still a Nephil. Do you understand?” He stood and held out a palm.
I stood, too, and pressed a hand against his. “I understand,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I did.
CHAPTER 5
Two days after my conversation in the Praetorium, the Praetor announced the ascension of three Archangels to Seraphim and reassignment of responsibility, which usually occurred when a new Praetor took over. Quii, previously an Engineer Archangel, became the new Engineer Seraph; Gamsior, my previous Reaper Archangel, became the new Reaper-Guardian Seraph; and Heppeliam, whose lack of faith in me still stung, became the new Nephil Seraph.
A new Archangel, Umiet, was assigned over my platoon. I visited her once, shortly after beginning my role as caretaker for the Dominions, hopeful that she’d reassign me. With a gruff, “No changes. Not for a while,” she hustled me out of her Praetorium office.
At times, I saw golden wings flash in the sky and remembered we were under attack—perhaps from within, since I still didn’t quite believe Asorat was the Aleph. But with no direct incursions by his army, Heaven relaxed. The Great War proceeded as expected. The fear that had rippled through the Nexus when Serinh had told us of the Seraphim’s Falls died away.
My new assignment, as many of the ones I’d been shoved into throughout my life, was anything but satisfying. Once again, I was in a position I didn’t want to be in, completely unsure of myself, without having a choice in the matter at all.
I quickly learned I was not a good nursemaid. More often than not, one of the Tenders would swoop up a crying baby Dominion into a welcoming embrace I was unable to mimic. I rocked cradles and sang songs, but when I tried to comfort them, the babies made it clear whom they preferred with their whimpers and moans. None of the Tenders spoke ill toward me, although I received more than my share of sharp glances and clucked tongues.
Wingless and tiny, the one hundred forty-four Dominions indeed grew faster than regular humans. Within a year, they were as tall as my waist and spoke in complete sentences. After two, they were another head taller and completed simple chores to help with the next batch of babies. During their third year, they appeared full-grown and apprenticed inside the fifth circle, where the humans lived between incarnations. By the fourth year, a handful studied regularly in the Archives, thou
gh the rest showed no aptitude for the complex historical information Cornerstones were required to retain.
Most days, I made excuses at the Sanctuary, left behind my duties, and spent a few hours meditating in the Garden. The Tenders never remarked on my absence, and I imagined they were relieved not to have me underfoot.
One morning, I was lying on the cushion, staring up at the weeping willow, and wondering how to fulfill my duty as a Cornerstone when I didn’t know what that duty was. For the past two or three days, I had been feeling both more worried and more curious about my role in the Source’s plan.
A sudden sense of apprehension overtook me.
I blinked, unsure of why I would feel that way. Could Asorat or the Aleph possibly be near? No, I was in Heaven. Though demons could come and go as they pleased, I felt safe here, certain no one would attack me in so public a place.
Am I being watched?
A few feet away, the bushes rustled, and I propped myself up on one elbow.
“Is someone there?” I called. The apprehension rose.
A pink bud bounced back and forth, and then something thudded to the ground.
“Are you all right?” I sat up. A feeling of embarrassment washed over me. I’d been caught in the Garden when I really should have been doing, well, something related to my duties.
A Dominion girl tumbled out of the bush. Her black, curly hair caught in the branches, and she tugged to loosen herself. “Er, good day.” She climbed to her feet.
Unsure what else to say, I asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
“Well, see, I was going to study, but I already spent a bunch of time on it this week, and it’s getting a bit boring. I mean, how many more times can I relive some pointless person’s childhood?” She swatted her hair out of her face. “Not that it’s not important, but I’ve already gone through all the Cornerstones’ lives and their parents’ and their grandparents’, and now I’m on cousins of cousins and I just don’t—”
“Whoa.” I held up a hand. “I’m not going to chastise you.”
Some trainer I was. I’d delegated almost everything: the raising of the babies to the Tenders, the teaching of the children to the Keepers, and the putting-to-work to the Reapers and humans. The last thing I felt qualified to do was discipline a girl shirking her duties since that’s what I was doing.
She was still chewing on her lip, though, so I said, “Didn’t you just start studying the Cornerstones a couple months ago?”
“Yes, well, I mean, I know the others are still going through all their assigned Books, but I did it really quickly and I’m already done. I tried to tell Raohl that, but she wanted me to stay in the reading room anyway. It’s not that I sneaked out. It’s that…” Her face fell. “I sneaked out.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.
A mischievous smile curved up the corners of her mouth.
Before she could get any ideas that I was easily beguiled, I said, “You know you aren’t only supposed to be reading, right? You’re supposed to experience key events.”
“Oh, yes, I did that already, too. Do you want to test me? I can tell you all about the lives of the fourteen Cornerstones she assigned us. Anything, just ask.” Her eyes opened wide, and she bounced on the balls of her feet.
I hadn’t the faintest idea who the Cornerstones she’d been assigned were, so I wasn’t about to try testing her. I’d never spent much time with children before this assignment, and this one seemed like a handful. In spite of that, I liked her. “Why don’t you come sit by me?” I moved aside and patted the cushion.
She tiptoed over, haltingly, and sat on the edge.
“Now, tell me about why you were in a bush.”
She hid her face behind her hands. “I’m so sorry.”
I waited until she peeked out from behind her fingers.
“It’s just that I was curious about you. You’re so important, and I was wondering what you did all day. When I followed you out here and saw that you were sitting by yourself alone, doing nothing, I was… Well, I was just curious, and so I wanted to get a closer look. But then I fell down.”
“You think I’m important?”
“Well, of course. I mean, I don’t know exactly what you do, but there’s a lot of yellow and green and brown ones, but I’ve only met one blue one. You.”
I thought about telling her I wasn’t important—that the Source, at one time, thought I might be, but through all the trials and tribulations of my life, I had ended up alone on this cushion. But I didn’t. She seemed curious, mature, and bright, but I couldn’t burden a child with almost a millennium’s worth of trouble.
I said, “I just watch over you. Make sure you’re growing up well. There are a lot more of us… blue ones. I’m not that important.”
She laughed then and a shiver ran down my spine. It was the same shiver my Wards experienced when meeting someone they’d known in a previous life for the first time in their current one. And that’s when I knew she was going to be our Cornerstone.
CHAPTER 6
“Remind me what they call you?” I asked somewhat sheepishly. There were a lot of children.
“Chana.”
“Chana?”
The others had names like “Naps in the Sunshine” or “Dark Night After a Rainfall”—the feelings they evoked in the Tenders who named them. The Dominions wouldn’t choose a human name to use in Heaven until they experienced their first life. Some humans switch names every life. And, of course, their true names were known to only them and the Source.
“I don’t know how I know, but that will be my name when I go to Earth for the first time. The green ones call me ‘Silver Sky in the Morning,’ but I like Chana better. It’s simple.”
It sounded like a self-fulfilling prophecy, but she was so charming I wasn’t going to argue. “Then that’s what I’ll call you, Chana.”
I had never heard of a human naming herself before she incarnated, but then again, she wasn’t a human. She was a Dominion.
I leaned over, inspecting her shirt-clad back, but she had no lumps where wings were sprouting. That was for the best. The Council didn’t want angels incarnating for this task, which is why they’d petitioned the Source for a new being.
“What are we going to do now?” Chana swung her legs back and forth, heels thumping gently against the side of the cushion.
“You’ve really finished studying everything the Keepers assigned you?”
“Yep. Well, a couple days ago I did.”
“You’ve been following me for two days?”
“Three. Maybe… four?”
I patted her on the leg. “All right, then, Chana.” We hadn’t told the children what their purpose was. They only knew that they were receiving special lessons, which is why they weren’t being raised with the other humans.
Maybe this was what I’d been waiting for, all these years. Years as a Guardian, years as a babysitter. Now that the time had come, I didn’t have any to waste.
I had a Cornerstone to train.
“We’re going to do something the Books can’t do for you,” I said. “We’re going to go watch some of the battles.”
I wasn’t sure if my Archangel, new or old, would sanction this, but I could beg forgiveness later. Chana needed to see what Earth was like if she was to complete her duties. Despite being four years old, she seemed eleven, almost twelve. If she was developing at three or four times the rate of other humans, she would be ready in only a few short years to create an Incarnation Plan and proceed to Earth.
Her brown eyes shone with delight. “When I got up this morning, I never would have guessed that’s what I’d be doing today!” My own excitement bubbled inside me as she jumped to her feet. “I’ve never been to Earth before. Is it going to hurt?”
“No, it feels nice. You’ll like it there.” I grasped her hand. “Moving between Earth and Heaven is effortless. Focus on where you want to go. Do you remember what the Bastille looks like from the Books of Li
fe?”
She nodded.
“Let’s go there now for practice.”
Chana screwed up her face and concentrated. I pictured the gray walls and the imposing architecture, and the Garden’s vibrant colors turned watery. The tingling sensation that always comes with the transition evoked a delighted cry from Chana, and I smiled for the first time in quite a while.
Chana’s first battle started with the Germans bombing an Allied trench and ended with a deadly brawl as gray-green-uniformed soldiers swarmed past barbed wire and into the ditches. Seeing multitudes of “blue ones” at first amused Chana, but she sobered up quickly as the fighting on the spiritual realm became as brutal as the hand-to-hand combat in the trenches.
When a demon nicked a Nephil with a knife, she pressed her hand to her mouth. “Their blood is blue,” she whispered. “And the demons’?”
With wails and gunshots echoing around us, I answered, “Black.”
She nodded gravely, hardened her face, and continued to watch without commentary. After we returned to Heaven, she asked difficult questions: “Why does the Source allow this? What is the purpose of blood? What happens if the demons lose all theirs?”
I answered as best I could, walking the thin line between being honest about what I knew and downplaying what I didn’t. Fear and confusion tumbled inside of me, much stronger than I would have expected after a simple battle, the likes of which I’d seen dozens of times. But I needed her to have confidence in me. I needed her to like me.
“The Source allows us to make our own choices.” That was the most difficult explanation, one I wasn’t always satisfied with, especially after everything I’d been through. “Blood is the way the Source keeps us alive, the part of ourselves that is Its own essence. If demons lose all theirs, they’re unable to move or speak until they receive sustenance.”
“Where do they get sustenance?” she asked.
I hid a smile. One question always led to another with her. I started explaining angel water, which was harvested by Reapers as part of their penance, and sure enough, that conversation lasted well over an hour. I was pleased: curiosity boded well for her success.
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