The promise swayed many. The Fall of three Seraphim put everyone on edge, and the most risk-averse of Heavenly beings decided they’d rather be on the winning side—and that the winning side would not be Heaven.
The years wore on. Parsiel and Heppeliam created plan after plan to attempt routing some of the power back into Heaven, but they were thwarted at every turn. During a raid on the fortress, we lost an entire squad as prisoners of war. Asorat demanded one year’s supply of angel water for every one of his Council members in exchange for their return. Zaponsla and I worked for two weeks with our brigade and as many Reapers to gather it. When we delivered it to him, only half the captured squad returned to Heaven. The other half renounced their wings and stayed.
In between missions, I lay in the Nexus and talked with the Source. After decades—centuries—of avoiding It, my failure to steal back the swastikas made me realize I needed It. Before all this, I’d turned to Kaspen with my troubles, and well before that, I’d turned to Voctic with my silly Attendant problems. But the Source refused to answer my questions with specifics. Instead, It encouraged me to find my own way, which was the same advice Harbinger had given me.
Frustrating.
I was deep in my self-pity, lying on a cushion on the east side of the Nexus, when Chana crawled up next to me. Now that I knew I was feeling her emotions, they were easy to identify. She was lonely but intensely happy to see me. After fussing with my wings, she pressed herself against my back and wrapped her arms around me. Snuggling deeper into the cushion, I cradled her arms against my chest, her simple affection welcome after so many years of nonsense with first Voctic and then Kaspen.
I stared at the spot on the floor where the swastikas used to be. Everyone went around it, refusing to walk across the polished surface. I’d tried once to force myself across it but couldn’t. It felt sacrilegious.
“I make terrible decisions,” I said. “Maybe I should join Asorat.”
“You don’t mean it,” she said.
Chana was maturing exponentially. Gone was the overly excitable child I’d raised and in her place only a handful of years later was a tall, full-grown, empathic Dominion. If I truly thought I’d influenced her beautiful personality, I might have been proud of myself. Instead, I was proud of her, for making it through the awkwardness of her Heaven-side teenage years. Now that she had matured, I counted her among the few close friends I had.
“Growing up wasn’t easy, was it?” I said.
“No. I can’t believe we’re expected to do it over and over and over. Once was enough for me but it’s only the beginning. I guess when I finally incarnate, I won’t know any better.”
I’d never been this close to a human for this long of a time. She was slightly cooler than an angel, and despite not needing air in Heaven, her chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked.
“I thought you needed comfort.” She started to draw back but I held her hand.
“No, I mean breathing. I thought humans only started doing that after they incarnated once.”
“I’m not exactly like other humans, am I?” she said.
“No.” I hadn’t told her about being able to sense her emotions because the time had never seemed ideal. But I couldn’t find an excuse not to do it now. So I braced myself and blurted, “You know, I realized a while back that I can feel what you’re feeling.”
Her reaction was plain even without the ability—she went extremely still. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I don’t know what caused it. I think it’s been happening since we met, although I didn’t know for years.”
The cushion wobbled as she shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Can you feel mine?” I didn’t like that idea because others who had been able to had betrayed me, but the situation hardly seemed fair.
“No.” She let out a long breath. “It’s fine, Enael. I trust you. I have nothing to hide from you.”
“I wish I knew what it meant.”
Chana reached out to take my hand, the one Voctic had injured when he’d tried to stab me. I’d hidden the scar so no one else could see it, but I knew it was there. I rolled over.
“Why do you favor this hand?” she asked.
“What do you mean? I don’t favor it.”
“Yes, you do. Sometimes I see you rubbing your thumb over it. Usually when you think no one is looking.”
I let the smooth skin fade to reveal my forever reminder of Voctic and then snapped it back into place. Chana’s brows furrowed. “It’s that demon. The one you were in love with. He tried to hurt you. But he didn’t really want to hurt you, did he?”
What a complicated question. But I responded, “No, I don’t think he did.”
She traced her finger over the spot where the scar had been, and I held back a shiver. “You really loved him. A lot. A lot, a lot.”
I pressed my lips together.
“I hate that you’re sad, Little One.”
Chana’s mischievous grin lit up her face, but the reminder that Voctic was dead and gone stung, and I cringed.
“Please don’t,” I whispered. “I know you’re trying to help but you’re making things worse.”
Her smile dropped. “I’m so sorry.”
The Engineer had confirmed that Chana looked exactly as she would when she incarnated. Brown hair, brown eyes, light skin, strong nose, average height: the quintessential Jewish woman. “Remarkable. I’ve never seen anything like it,” the Engineer had said, with awe in her voice. “She looked like this before it was even decided who she would return as.”
I clung to that fact because it meant something. It meant that the Source did have a plan—for Chana and for me. If only I could figure out what my role was.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” I said. “You have better things to do.”
“Not really. I feel so useless. Not having anything to do makes me feel like I’m hiding from my duties.”
“You’re not hiding from your duties. You’re waiting.”
She shrugged. “I can’t help how I feel.”
I felt a kinship with Chana that I’d only felt with a handful of beings. She deserved better than sitting in the Nexus with me, feeling bad about our lots in life. I needed to let her in—all the way in, especially since my ability to sense her emotions was one-sided.
Before I could change my mind, I blurted, “I loved Voctic so much. He was my Archangel when we became lovers, and so many angels judged me for it. But I loved him. It wasn’t a dalliance. I know nobody believes it but he treated me as an equal.”
Her eyes were dark pools.
“The Aleph forced him to attack me because it didn’t know what else to do with me as the Cornerstone. It was so difficult for him that he Fell. Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time. I was devastated. I thought I would never be able to put my heart back together. Everything I believed about Heaven was shattered. After that, I spent a long time in the Comfort Ward.” To anyone else, that admission would have come out as an ashamed whisper. But saying it to Chana made the heaviness in my chest lift.
“And here you are,” she said. “Bravely fighting the good fight.”
I started to shake my head, intending to brush her off, but she grabbed my previously scarred hand.
“Enael, think of the torment you went through. Think of all the work you did to put yourself back together. You had to reevaluate everything you thought you knew. You could have gone to hide in the back of the Sanctuary somewhere for all eternity, but you didn’t. You became a Reaper and then a Nephil. It’s—” Her eyes glistened with tears. “I admire you so much.”
A lump rose in my throat. “Thank you,” I managed.
Chana embraced me, wetting my shoulder as we sniffled and squeezed one another. Her breath tickled my feathers. Seeing myself from her perspective was eye-opening: I had overcome so much, yet I had trouble giving myself the credit I deserved. And if such a strong, im
portant Dominion had such a high opinion of me, shouldn’t I also have one of myself?
I let out a shaking breath. “I have an idea. You have a few years until you proceed to Earth, yes?”
Chana nodded.
“And your Incarnation Plan is finished?”
“Finished and waiting for Harbinger to birth me.”
“What are you doing in the meantime?” Reluctantly, I pulled from her hug.
“Today? I’m learning to play the lyre. The Cherubim say I’m getting really good. Do you want to hear it?”
I frowned. “You’re joking, right?”
She shook her head.
“You’re the most elite human in all of creation, we’re in the midst of a war, and you’re learning to play the lyre?”
“When you put it that way…” She blushed.
I laughed. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. I was surprised because it doesn’t seem like your style. Come on.” I hopped off the cushion and held out a hand. “Enough crying in the Nexus for today. We’re going to go find you something useful to do.”
“Really?” Her eyes shone. “What?”
“We’re going to Umiet. We’re going to start the first human-only squad in the history of Heaven.”
Some of the childlike spring was back as she bounded up. “Wow! You really think I’m ready for that?”
“Of course you are. And even if we only use you and your brethren in some of the easier missions, it’s better than sitting around and learning to play the lyre.” I snorted. “Wait until I tell Zaponsla that you were learning the lyre.”
I wrapped my arm around her and lifted her into the air. I’d never carried another human before meeting her, but transporting her was easy even though she’d grown. Her back nestled against my chest and her head rested on my shoulder as though we were made to fly like this.
“Hey,” she said, “I told you, I’m getting really good. Once we’re done here, I can play you a song.”
“No,” I said, “I’d rather see how you wield a trident.”
She giggled and we soared toward the Praetorium.
CHAPTER 19
Umiet loved our idea. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner.”
The Dominions who hadn’t yet incarnated were all as restless as Chana. They started training under the Nephilim, and within a year, the Seraphim assigned four trident-wielding Dominions to each squad, flown in by the combat medic Tenders.
Chana was assigned to our squad, and the positive infusion of her energy was enough to pull me from my self-pity. We spent all our time together—both on and off the battlefield—and soon the she, Zaponsla, and I became inseparable.
I hardly missed Kaspen or Voctic at all.
We won back the hearts of many Germans, but it still wasn’t enough to stop the war. They were frightened for their own safety, and few dared oppose Adolf’s regime. Asorat’s power grew, as evidenced by all the Guardians who were no longer able to influence their humans, but day by day, we fought for control.
In January 1933, Adolf Hitler was about to be made chancellor. The buzz was that the Seraphim were creating a battle plan to interfere with this newest rise in status, and we were all waiting to hear what our mission would be.
Zaponsla, Chana, and I were lounging underneath the weeping willow, golden feathers spread around us. What had started as a game had turned into attempted divination for the identity of the Aleph, though we had no idea what to base our conclusions on.
In the past month, we’d secretly stolen feathers from each of the Seraphim—Heppeliam’s was the most difficult to get and he caught us several times. When we finally accomplished gathering the full set, we compared them. Serinh’s were the brightest, Parsiel’s the dullest, with the others ranging in between. At first we thought perhaps it was age, but some investigation into the Archives revealed that the Engineer Seraph, Quii, was the youngest.
Although we had wandered through stack after stack into the highest floors of the Archives, we couldn’t find any records prior to the birth of the second youngest Seraph, Gamsior. We were unable to ascertain the identity—or even existence—of the Aleph. We also never happened upon any books with the strange, translucent cover I’d seen after our failed attempt to re-acquire the swastikas.
Today, we were sitting in the grass in front of the weeping willow, once again comparing feathers.
“Dariet’s is darker than Iztar’s, so I think we need to swap the order,” said Zaponsla.
“Yes, but Dariet’s seems slightly shinier. See, here?” I held it up to the light.
“I don’t know.” Chana snatched it from me. “I think—”
The chime summoning us to prepare for a battle echoed in my mind, drowning out her argument, and I hopped up.
The two stared up at me. “Where are you going?” asked Zaponsla.
“You didn’t hear it?” I said. “The bell to assemble?”
They looked at each other and then shook their heads.
“Strange.”
Zaponsla jumped up. “I’m coming with you.”
Chana rose with womanly grace. “Me too.”
“Of course.”
I dropped the feather on our cushion and grabbed Chana’s hand. “I’m not letting this—” I pointed at the feathers, “—go, you know.”
“You never do.” Zaponsla took Chana’s other hand, and we jumped into the air.
As we flew to the Praetorium, the afternoon sun was pleasant. I flapped my wings vigorously to distract myself from wondering why I might be summoned without my partner. It better not be another nursemaid position. But Parsiel had let me be since our argument more than a decade prior. It’s probably an oversight.
The Attendant behind the receiving desk stood. “Enael, you’re wanted in the War Room. Zaponsla, Chana, I’ve been asked to send her in alone.”
“What do you mean? We’re in this together.” Chana’s eyes flashed. “Where she goes, we go. Where we go, she goes. We’re not standing here, waiting around while—”
“Chana, it’s fine. Let me go see what they want. Stop yelling at him. He’s just carrying out orders.”
She mumbled something about not yelling and what she thought about carrying out orders, but she and Zaponsla stayed in the entryway while I followed a group of Engineers entering the vertical corridor.
“I’ll come find you as soon as I can,” I called.
“You’d better,” replied Chana.
I wasn’t sure what sort of gathering I’d find behind the door to the War Room, but inside were Parsiel, Heppeliam, and Umiet, whom I’d come to greatly respect as a brigade leader over the years. The feather Zaponsla had plucked from her was bright and shining, which I wished could be an indication that we could trust her. However, Serinh’s was just as brilliant, and I still didn’t quite trust her yet.
“Enael,” said Heppeliam, “join us.”
They stood over a table on which a large map of a city was unrolled, quills lying next to it.
“We have an assignment for you,” said Umiet.
Parsiel’s glare told me he was, once again, not in full agreement with whatever the Seraphim had decided.
“Over the years, you’ve become a valued Nephil. You left your earlier difficulties behind and performed admirably in Heaven’s army,” said Heppeliam.
“We like ya.” Umiet smiled at me.
I smiled back, nervous, but pleased at the praise, especially from Heppeliam. A decade ago, I would have never expected to impress him.
“As you may recall,” he continued, “when you first joined the ranks, we attempted to use you in key roles because of your status as Cornerstone. We thought perhaps allowing you to guide the missions would ensure success.”
“That didn’t work for us,” said Parsiel sourly. “We stopped building missions around you.”
“And that didn’t work for us, either.” Heppaliam’s voice was sharp. He, and the other new Seraphim, possessed more confidence around their co-Council memb
ers than when they’d first ascended. “Every indication is that Asorat’s power is growing unchecked. We’ve tried and failed to stop him. Now it’s time to try something different yet again.”
“We’re sending you in,” said Umiet. “You’re going to help us stop all this.”
My stomach somersaulted. “How?”
“Tomorrow, our Cornerstone—our former Cornerstone—Adolf Hitler is being installed as chancellor. We want you to go to him tonight, speak to him in a dream, and attempt to convince him to give up his plan of ruling the world in favor of uniting a strong, prosperous Germany.”
I looked from Parsiel’s golden gaze to Heppeliam’s to Umiet’s glittering silver eyes. “You want me to do this how?”
Heppeliam said, “Your experience as a Reaper has given you the ability to understand and weave a strong, rational mind.”
One name popped into my head: Jacqueline.
He must have seen the fear in my eyes because he said, “We believe”—Parsiel cleared his throat and shuffled his feet—”your difficulties from that assignment will give you an even greater edge in making the proper decisions. And beyond that, you have a connection with humans unlike any we’ve seen before. We noticed that whenever you visit Harbinger, she senses your presence. It’s strongest with Chana—you can tell her moods. Isn’t that right?”
After all I’d been through, I wasn’t surprised the Seraphim knew, even though I’d never told anyone beyond my new friends. “Yes, I do.” Even now, I felt faint strains of annoyance and anxiety halfway across the Praetorium. It almost made me smile. Chana did worry about me.
“We believe the connection is due to her status as Cornerstone,” said Heppeliam. “And Adolf, once trained as a Cornerstone, should also have a connection with you once you get inside his dream. Reason with him. Tell him that he can’t possibly keep the entire world under control and that his eventual failure will mean terrible things for his people.”
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “What about his Guardian? The Nephilim you have watching over him?”
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