Warring Angel

by Samantha L. Strong

  Soon the tears faded, and they insisted on something to distract me—our feather-snatching investigation. Over the next few days, we plucked feathers from each of the Cherubim in the Orchestra and discovered a pattern. It didn’t matter what they were playing at the time we grabbed their feather, but their favored instrument seemed to determine the color. Feathers of those who preferred playing lyre faded to almost pink, and those who preferred playing cello deepened to a dark crimson. We puzzled over it, wondering if it was determined at birth or only once they became Cherubim.

  I didn’t tell them what happened to the feather I’d taken from Kaspen’s wing.

  All three of us were summoned to the next assignment with our platoon. None of the leaders looked our way, nor did they comment on my failure. We fought battles, we won skirmishes, we lost conflicts. The Nazis’ power grew, as did Asorat’s.

  It was almost time for Chana to proceed to Earth.

  “I’m nervous,” she told us one day as we lay on our backs in a patch of sunlight in the Garden, three spokes on a wheel, with our heads in the middle. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do everything they want.”

  They’d spent months perfecting her Incarnation Plan. Every branch, every possible interruption they could think of was satisfied.

  “You’ll be fine. Zaponsla and I will be there for you every step of the way.” Fierce protectiveness rose in my chest: I would be there, no matter what happened, even though she wouldn’t know I was guarding her. We were going through this together, and we would come out the other side victorious.

  The news from Earth was starting to worry me, though. Adolf had opened concentration camps for political prisoners. In 1935, he declared all Jews non-citizens and their future was uncertain. That pressed hardships upon Harbinger’s Incarnation Plan because of how she needed to raise Chana. But the plan proceeded as discussed and she became pregnant. In a hurried ceremony, she and her high school sweetheart were married.

  Finally, it was time for us to go to Earth again. Harbinger—now incarnated as the slim, serious Bernadette—had been pregnant for about four months when the Engineers summoned us. In previous assignments, I met my Ward for one last briefing in the Praetorium before we proceeded to the Sanctuary to prepare his or her soul. But this time, we spent nearly a week being grilled by my Engineers on the Incarnation Plans.

  Chana’s terrified eyes met mine across the bright, white Foresight Room.

  “I said,” insisted the Engineer, “what will you do if your father is killed before you graduate high school?”

  “I… I’ll use it to… to feed my righteous anger toward rising up against the regime. I’ll—” she broke off, swallowing.

  “All right,” I stepped forward. “That’s enough. Leave her be. She’s been preparing for years. She wrote half the Plan!”

  “Nephil, this is possibly the most important human life in all of history.” The Engineer’s topaz eyes blazed. “We must ensure that she’s prepared.”

  “Look at her!”

  Chana was hunched over with her arms wrapped around her. She’d not done that in two decades—it called to mind the awkward little girl who’d tumbled out of the bush after spying on me.

  “You’re right. Maybe she’s not ready,” said a second Engineer.

  “No, maybe you’re just frightening her. She’s mature and wise well beyond her years, but this is her first life. Leave her be.”

  The gratitude emanating from her nearly broke my heart.

  The three Engineers looked at one another, then at her. One of them flipped through her Book of Life, as though he was going to insist on quizzing her again. Instead, he said, “Fine, fine. You’re right. She knows what she’s to do.” He sighed. “Let’s get to the Sanctuary. Let’s prepare her.”

  The parade was oddly grim as we flew across Heaven’s circles from the Praetorium to the Sanctuary. Zaponsla and I carried Chana between us, just as we always did, but her usual bubbly comments were absent.

  “Are you going to be all right?” I whispered as we passed around the beam of light in the Nexus.

  “Being drilled until the second I incarnate isn’t the way I wanted to do this, but I understand why they’re so worried.”

  “You’ll be amazing.”

  Zaponsla agreed. “You definitely will.”

  Chana didn’t answer.

  I led the group through the pastel walls of the Sanctuary to the Incarnation Ward, familiar despite how many years had passed since I’d been here. Every time I’d guarded a human, we’d prepare his or her soul in this very ward. I would hold it in the palms of my hands, fade to Earth, and nestle the consciousness into the growing fetus. It was always a poignant moment for me—new life and all that—but I’d never thought much about it.

  Now I did. This was the first time Chana was incarnating, and I was going to miss her laughter, her touch, our conversations. Perhaps from time to time, she would see a flick of my wing, but I wouldn’t be able to reassure her. She wouldn’t even know I existed. She’d be on her own—or at least, so she would think.

  With the weight of human history resting on her shoulders.

  A flat surface with a shallow indentation in the shape of a body sat in the center of the pink-walled room. Two Tenders would stand over her and murmur to help her relax. Her soul would turn into the flowing liquid that would pool in the torso, and then I would take the whisper-soft soul with me to Earth.

  Chana was eying the table as though it were a torture device, which was definitely not going to help her relax. “Enael, I need to speak with you alone.”

  An Engineer spoke up. “There’s no time for this. We need—”

  “Nonsense,” I interrupted, before she could spew an only-makes-sense-to-Engineers protestation. My patience for this group was wearing thin. “Her body is growing safely inside Bernadette. We have plenty of time.”

  The three exchanged glances, but Zaponsla was already herding them out. “Come into the hall. You can talk more about her life out there. It’s what you really want to do today anyway, isn’t it?”

  The door closed behind them.

  Chana walked to the table and ran a finger along the outline of where her body was going to lie. “This is it, then. All this preparation, and now it’s time.”

  She had something else to say—I could tell she was nervous through our bond-that-wasn’t-a-bond—but I didn’t press her. Instead, I came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder—strong, the shoulder of a Dominion. “I said you’ll do amazing, and I meant it. You’re ready for this. More than ready. You were ready a decade ago. The Engineers had to align the conditions first.”

  “But what if something happens?”

  “I’ll be there. Zaponsla will be there. We’ll protect you.”

  “Something isn’t right,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… It’s… I don’t know what I mean. It’s like I remember something but I can’t tell you what it is.”

  That made me think of the time when Voctic had made me forget what he was telling me about the Aleph. “Does anyone know your true name?”

  She shook her head. “Only the Source.”

  “And you.”

  She turned to finally look me in the eye. “No. Not even me.”

  That was extremely strange. “How do you not—”

  Chana stood on her tiptoes, leaned forward, and kissed me.

  Kissing Voctic for the first time had been all-consuming, the culmination of decades of need. It had hinted at all the things that had come to pass. My first kiss with Kaspen had sparked a fire inside me. It unlocked something that meant both more and less than what I thought at the time.

  This kiss with Chana was warm, familiar, and comfortable, a culmination of the years we’d spent together as friends, squad mates, and confidantes. I was so surprised that I stood unmoving for five of her heartbeats. How should I respond?

  And then I put my arms on her shoulders and pushed her
back. “W-we can’t do this.”

  She dreamily opened her eyes, which were shining with a soft light. “That was just as I had imagined.” Her voice was deep, and she looked so much older—and radiantly beautiful, just like an angel, minus the wings.

  “You don’t know what you want yet.” My voice stayed steady. “I’m here to protect you, nothing more.”

  A strangeness prickled my skin, a decidedly human experience, as though what was happening had happened before. Déjà vu, they called it, but I’d never heard of an angel experiencing it before.

  “I feel like I can remember, if you only let me…” She stood on her tiptoes again and leaned toward me, but I shied away.

  “Chana, no. I don’t know what this is, but no. Not here, not now. I’m going to call the others back into the room, and you’re going to proceed to Earth.”

  Her glow was fading, and the years dropped away. A strong, battle-worn Dominion stood before me once again, not whatever… creature… she’d just become.

  My hand was on the doorknob. This is my student, I reminded myself, though I could barely remember a time when I’d felt we were anything other than equals. Her comfort, her friendship, meant so much to me. I helped raise her. I’m supposed to be protecting her. I couldn’t allow any feelings—whatever feelings I had; I refused to explore that right now—to cloud my judgment.

  Chana said, “You can feel that there’s something between us.”

  “I love you like… like a dear protégé.” I wasn’t sure that was right, though. There was something between us.

  “But you do love me.” Her eyes shone.

  “Of course and always.” That much was true.

  When I opened the door, Zaponsla nearly tumbled inside. She looked at me, looked at Chana, and then waved for the Engineers and Tenders to follow her in.

  “Come on. They’re ready,” she said in a businesslike manner. With her back turned to the rest of the room, she gave me a wide-eyed look. “You and I are going to have words later.”

  I was oddly grateful. At least I would have someone to talk through this strange occurrence with—unlike the many, many previous times when I’d been on my own to sort out the difficult developments in my life.

  Eyes still unfocused, smiling a secret smile, Chana settled on the table. She’d donned a long robe that flowed like a soul, and the garment spread out around her like wings.

  One Tender stood at her head and one at her feet. The Engineers took a seat in the chairs along the side of the wall, murmuring amongst themselves.

  I brushed a hand over Chana’s head. “You’re going to do excellent.” I kissed her on the forehead and stepped back.

  I can’t think about what happened. I need to focus on my duty to Chana. And to Heaven.

  The Tenders spread their hunter green wings and began the familiar chant, alternating lines between them, that I had heard so many times before. Chana closed her eyes and settled her hands on her belly.

  “… to Earth you return, to Earth you’ll stay…”

  “… until you return to Heaven one day…”

  Her body and clothes began to melt, and she folded in on herself. Her face was the first to lose its form, then each of her ten fingers and toes.

  She shrank and shrank, until her soul ran like liquid to pool in the torso indentation. The Engineers fell silent, leaning forward as one to watch.

  The Tenders continued to chant. “Small as an infant, small as a child…”

  “… prepare to find yourself warm inside.”

  Finally, Chana’s soul was small enough to scoop into my hands. I reached out and lifted her from the table, a ball containing everything that she ever was or ever would be. She was heavy with the weight of all her preparations and Heaven’s hopes for this life.

  An Engineer spoke. “Take good care of her, Nephil.”

  I nodded. Zaponsla took me by the arm. Priceless human life cupped to my heart, we faded to the outskirts of the city she would be incarnating in.

  CHAPTER 24

  Escorted by two pairs of squad mates, we flew into the city. In her tiny apartment, Bernadette reclined on a sofa. Her belly was softly rounded, and she had her feet propped up on pillows and a wet washcloth on the back of her neck. The weather was warmer than usual and sweat beaded on her forehead.

  As Zaponsla and I materialized, she looked up from the book she was reading to glance around, equal parts eager and confused. She blinked, laughed wryly, then looked back down at the book.

  Her Guardian wore a youthful aspect. He’d been polite and well-spoken every time we’d check in on his Ward. “Good day, Nephilim. Bernadette is doing well overall, although she’s having a difficult day. Her pregnancy sickness is fading, so she’s keeping down more food. However, she’s having various aches and pains that are usual at this time in her pregnancy. Her husband is due back from work in two hours.”

  “You have watched her well. May the Source that made you comfort and aid you.”

  “Peace and love to you.” Looking pleased—and a bit relieved to be leaving Germany—he joined our squad mates, and the group flew off toward the outskirts.

  I eased Chana’s soul into her mother’s belly. I nestled it inside the fetus, and Bernadette let out a small sigh as she turned a page. Two streams of emotion opened up in my consciousness, one of a warm, comfortable baby and one of a happy but uncomfortable mother. I smiled down at them, pleased to witness this beautiful moment in their lives, when everything seemed right and Bernadette felt the world of possibilities opening to her child in the future.

  Zaponsla spoke loudly in the quiet room. “What happened in the Incarnation Ward? What did Chana say to you? What did you do?”

  “Way to ruin the moment, Zaponsla.”

  “Please tell me that what I think happened isn’t actually what happened.”

  Chana kicked inside her mother’s womb, feeling out the confines of her new home. Bernadette gasped, smiled, and rubbed her belly. “My darling baby,” she whispered. I placed a hand on top of hers.

  “Chana kissed me,” I said.

  Zaponsla huffed. “That was a really long pause I heard. You kissed her back. I feel like that’s… I don’t know what I feel, but I don’t like it.”

  I removed my hand, stood, and took up my familiar guarding pose, hands nestled below my wings. “Something bizarre is happening to her. To us.” The feeling of déjà vu from before prickled over me, half as strong but just as incomprehensible. “Maybe it’s because she’s part angel and part human.”

  “Are you turning into Voctic?”

  “What? No!”

  “How is this different from your relationship with him?”

  I let out a long, even breath, steadying myself as I once had while embodied. “I stopped her. Chana and I do not have a Voctic-Enael relationship.”

  “Not yet.” Zaponsla glared at the flowered wallpaper. “You practically raised her.”

  “I don’t have romantic feelings for her. Nor do I think she has romantic feelings for me, although she thinks she does. I’m telling you, something else is going on. Something that’s outside anything that has ever occurred in history.”

  “And what, precisely, would that be?” She folded her arms.

  “I don’t know. If I did, I’d tell you. I can feel her emotions. It’s almost as though we share a bond, although we don’t.”

  “Better not.” Her wings flapped to punctuate each word.

  “She and I have hardly had time to sneak off the Joy Ward when you weren’t looking, and as I have just said repeatedly, I don’t want to!” I hadn’t yet shared this next part with her. I had hoped to figure it out before telling anyone else, even Zaponsla. “What I’m saying is that I have a bond with her that goes beyond the normal bond a Guardian has with her humans. It started when I met her in the Garden, and it’s grown stronger over time.”

  “What? What does that mean?”

  “I’m a Cornerstone and she’s a Cornerstone. Maybe that’s why?” />
  Bernadette was dropping off to sleep when Chana kicked again.

  “I don’t like this at all.” Zaponsla dropped her arms to her sides, shook out her wings. “And I really don’t like that I’ve had to pry it out of you.”

  “You did not pry it out of me. I haven’t had time to think, let alone talk to you. Do you think I like what’s happening? I stopped her, insisted she quit it, and all she did was slouch off with some moonstruck look!”

  Our disagreement felt too much like the fight Zaponsla and I had so many years ago the night I chased her away in the Whitechapel District, when I’d started losing my sanity along with my Ward. I didn’t want her to regret choosing to partner with me. She, like Chana, had become my friend over the past couple decades. I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t need romance in my life. I needed beings who cared about me.

  Calmly, I said, “Why are you so upset about this?”

  Zaponsla looked down at her hands. She called her trident and twirled it in an idle, distracted gesture. “You know what happened the last time you got too involved with a human.”

  “Jacqueline?” So we were both thinking about 1888.

  “You were swayed by her emotional state.”

  “Chana is a Dominion. She’s half angel.”

  “And in Asorat’s fortress…”

  The words hung heavy between us. “You still don’t like that I killed that woman.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  I looked down at sleeping Bernadette. As Harbinger, she’d pointed out that I needed to start trusting myself. How do I make Zaponsla understand when I’m so unsure myself? “I’ve spent too many years trying to please someone other than myself. The Council of Seraphim, my previous Archangels.”

  I was thinking of Rehniah, who’d been my Archangel for my centuries when I was a Guardian. I made it plural when I realized I’d constantly been trying to please Voctic, too, and even Gamsior, my Reaper Archangel, whom I barely knew.

  “I need to start listening to the voice inside myself,” I said. “And in this situation, the voice says I need to pay attention to this thing with Chana. It means something.”