Good Angel (Good Angel Duology Book 1)

by Blaushild, A. M.

  From here, she could see almost everything. She was standing on a tower that was part of the demon dormitories, and across the inner yard of the U-shaped Hub, she could see her own dorm. Across the yard were the various half-shacks and small huts that dotted the grassy hills below the University, and through the thicket of woods was the quarry.

  On the other side, barely visible even with her powerful eyesight, was a nearby human city. How odd to think they were all there, thousands of them, unaware. How much stranger to realize there were angels out there too, looking towards her every so often, remembering their roots.

  She was quite high up, perched on a line of decorative bricks that stuck out around the rim of a window, but the tower ended in a decisively modern spire, and she couldn’t resist the urge to fly up a couple more feet. There was less room to perch, so she leaned her feet against the base of the golden spire, holding on with one arm so that she was at an odd angle, her wings open for support.

  It let her see just a little bit further, and further shrunk the other students who were on the ground. She peered down at them, nearly indiscernible from this top-down angle. Probably, flying was a very freshman thing to do. She hadn’t seen anyone else fly yet, and maybe it was even against the rules on the off-chance a human would see them.

  But she was pleased. She moved in a circle, taking everything in. Across the lawn, inside the woods, she spied a small clearing not too far from the quarry. It didn’t seem to be the one the party had been at, as it was much deeper in.

  There was someone there, a demon to be precise, as she could see the dark wings. She squinted. Dark wings, dark hair, and a couple of papers he was desperately trying to keep from blowing away in the wind. She was pretty sure it was Archie, though perhaps he was just on her mind. Just because, she leapt down and spread her wings, gliding easily towards the secluded clearing and ducking out of the harder crosswinds.

  It was him. She slowed up as she approached him from behind, and then landed in a stumbling finish right beside him. He’d started to turn the moment she got close, hearing her heavy wingbeats. Some papers beside him had scattered in the wind, and he fell forward to gather them all up.

  “What?” He asked.

  “Hi. Just exploring,” Iofiel said. She looked about; the clearing was empty besides him, a brush pile on one end suggesting this wasn’t always the case. He’d brought a bag of chips with him, as well as several books. “I saw you here.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “Are you hard of hearing?” she asked, but it hadn’t meant to come off as rude as Archie seemed to take it.

  “I know you flew here,” Archie said defensively. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh, not really sure. I guess I wanted to see you again.”

  “Why would you want to do that.”

  “A grotesque and uncalled for sense of curiosity.” Archie was still sitting on the ground, clutching his papers to his chest. Iofiel was already much taller than him, but standing like this beside him she felt mountainous. She shifted her weight from side to side. “I was thinking of apologizing for the other day. Again. I’m sorry if I acted weird.”

  Archie was still stiff, but he seemed to shrug with one shoulder. “I’m used to it. The demons treat me worse.”

  “Well, I don’t want to be like them. Can I sit down?” When he nodded Iofiel sat down on nearby, giving him some space. “Hey, were you studying? What are you majoring in? …Can I ask that?”

  “You don’t have to talk to me like that, you know.” Archie slumped back, his back arched and his wings dragging against the ground.

  “I feel bad though!” Iofiel blurted out. Any semblance of personal control, of an internal monologue telling her to shut up, had faded with her dire curiosity. “You know, your own classmates don’t like you, and of course angels don’t either. So no one’s ever nice to you.”

  “I’m used to it,” he said again, two fingers tracing a curl in his hair. “Can’t be helped or changed so… it’s just my life. I don’t need you talking to me, you know. Feeling bad for me. You’re an angel. You should be…” He trailed off.

  “I should be somewhere else,” Iofiel admitted, looking away for a moment at the empty green field they were sat in. Only a few leaves had started to orange in the maples that dotted the clearing. “But I’m here now, right? Can we talk?”

  Archie shifted a little, then stretched his wings out and fell onto the ground. “I’m here for Infernal Arts. Leaning towards a degree for middle management.”

  At his answer, Iofiel perked up, leaning a little more towards him. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I don’t know what that means.” Angels had a pretty limited set when it came to study: military, which included battle magic, battle strategy, and healing, and human affairs, which included Guardianship and internal influence. There were sub majors for each, down to some pretty specific certifications, but demons had a much larger plate to pick from.

  “It’s like, helping another more important demon out with basic knowledge and low-level magic and such. If I’m really good, assisting the demon who assists a Fallen.”

  “You don’t sound too excited about this.”

  “Would you?”

  Archie might’ve meant it to come off as poignant, but Iofiel ignored this. “Well, as an angel, absolutely not. Of course, even if that didn’t really apply... what’s so bad about helping others?”

  “It’s not very demonic, is it?”

  “I suppose not. Though... you’re not a demon?”

  Archie grumbled something. This was obviously a sore spot for him, but Iofiel couldn’t resist mentioning it, even with the glass she’d be treading on to apologize for her behavior the other day.

  “What is up with that? I know, I know, it’s probably super rude. I’m just really curious. Imps don’t normally do this kind of thing.”

  “Imps don’t normally do anything but die,” Archie said softly. “It’s —It all happened fast, okay? No scary reason, or a good one. And I’m not going to go around talking about it to others I don’t know, let alone angels.”

  “Okay. At what point can you tell me?”

  “We’re not going to be friends.”

  “That’s jumping ahead a little bit. What about animosity-ridden associates? Friendly-themed rivals? Fellow students?” Iofiel smiled. “Listen, we’re here right now in some big ol’ field. No one is paying attention. We can just be two people for a while, even if normally we’re the exact opposite of that.”

  “What’s the opposite of two?”

  “Two.”

  Archie rolled his eye. “Look. You see this, right?” He tapped his eyepatch.

  “Difficult to miss.”

  “I was made without an eye. In a batch of about one hundred common workers. I think it happens all the time, but no one knows, since the Fallen usually dispose of accidents. But just for fun, I was saved. They decided, ‘let’s go ahead, send him to the University, see if he’s worth anything.’ But you know, I wasn’t born with anything useful, I didn’t grow up. They had to spend a whole day of my existence binding basic language spells to me so I could come here.”

  “Demons have spells for that?”

  “We’re not all blessed.”

  “So some whoever tells you that you gotta come here and study middle management, or what?”

  “It wasn’t that explicit, but what else can I really do? I was meant for menial labor. I can’t fly. I have the barest of vocabularies and knowledge. Someone had to teach me what the ocean was the other day, and I still have trouble believing it. Can you imagine that? Learning what the ocean is one day?” Archie sounded exasperated. “I can barely even do magic! And they send me off like this, they send a poor little imp off and expect them to survive among real demons. Imps don’t really do anything but die, and I feel like I’m going to before the end of this.”

  “That sounds… horrid.” Iofiel’s initial reaction to anything connected to Hell was horrid, anyways, a sh
arp sense of ‘demons are demons, and demons are bad’. But she did remember how the other demons looked at Archie. How Maalik had given a pitiful look when she’d mentioned he was an imp, and how her gut reaction to him was to treat him as anything other than… someone? She’d been born knowing the difference between demons— her foes— and the useless, temporary workers that dwelled only in the caves of Hell, but when she looked at Archie, at this young, watery eyed life curled up beside her, she found it harder and harder to view him as a mere imp.

  “It’s all I have. A brief window in Hell, which is…” He trailed off. “I don’t know. I can’t change anything.” He shifted his posture, sitting up straight and staring at Iofiel. “I have enough problems. I can’t— you know, I can’t deal with you too.”

  “I guess so.” Though previously she’d felt piteous at Archie’s wide, weak glare, his scratchy voice made her uncomfortable. Enough so that she turned away. “Probably me talking to you will only makes things worse. But what would you rather be studying? I mean, maybe you could go into the army? Battle strategy and stuff can’t be anymore skill-based than running errands in Hell.”

  “I don’t want to do that.”

  Iofiel slumped back. “I’m going to be a Guardian angel, but only because someone suggested it to me. I guess one way or another, we all have to choose a path. Can’t just exist. I’m lucky in that all of mine are good ones. Maybe you should do something human-y, you could blend right in. Leave the others behind.”

  “Without an eye? With wings and horns?”

  “Well, you’d have to hide your bits, but tons of humans are missing parts of them. Eyes and legs and limbs and hair. Anything that could exist, that seems needed... humans are out there doing just fine. They’re totally amazing, right?”

  “As a demon, I’m supposed to disagree,” Archie said, “But as a bad one, yeah. They’re amazing things.”

  “People,” Iofiel corrected dutifully.

  “People, unlike us.” Archie’s wings, Iofiel noticed, were torn near the base, besides being too small and thin to get air born. After a pause, and a small intake of breath, Archie said, “I think the soul trade would be fun.”

  “Soul stealing?”

  “Well, they want to give it up, I think? So you’re just taking what they don’t think they need. And some Traders get to live on Earth for years as a human, infiltrating their communities. Could you imagine having friends?”

  “Human friends, you mean?” Iofiel said, teasing a little, “Or are you just a very sad individual?”

  “I’m actually just kinda sad. Only been alive for a week.”

  “You know, I’m only eleven days old. We’re both less than babies.”

  “Except you were made with everything you need,” Archie pointed to her. His tone had dropped everything accusatory, and now he just sounded meek. A light breeze was ruffling his fluffy brown hair, and though Iofiel had never seen one, his wide pale eye was reminding her of a cow’s. “But thank you.”

  There was a beat. Iofiel wondered, mildly, if this was perhaps the first time a demon had ever thanked an angel, or vice versa, in the history of the universe. It seemed unlikely. She was barely a rebel and this had all happened so casually. But it still felt significant, under the bright light of the Earth’s sun.

  “If you want to study the soul trade, you need to just do it. There’s magic involved, sure, but... just because you’ve had bad luck, or someone else told you otherwise, who says you can’t learn how to do it?”

  “Because I’ve already sincerely tried.”

  “Do it anyway. There’re ways around these things. Maybe you can just be a demon who only takes the souls of teenagers at costume parties. At the very least, you should try and... fail, before you give up. Cause then you’ll know.”

  “The others — Well, the actual demons barely tolerate me as is. It’s dumb as... dirt, but like. Everyone’s a jerk to me? I already know I can barely read a book, I don’t need to have someone else tell me it. And my wings were born broken, so seriously, pushing me into a wall doesn’t even hurt at this point. It’s just rude!”

  “Seriously? What dicks!” From his reaction, Iofiel thought Archie seemed shocked at her language, and she was too a little. She giggled. “It’s all kinda stupid. Just ignore them.”

  “That is pretty hard to do.”

  “Okay, fair, but when you’re the first and only imp raking in all those gross sinner souls, they’re going to be feeling like serious wads,” Iofiel said, “You were born pretty messed up, so why go on to live a messed-up life you have no interest in?”

  “Because cataclysmic failure is not particularly fun.”

  “Come on, Archie!” Iofiel jumped up, ish, moving from sitting down to resting on her knees. She leaned over, and stared as intensely as she could into his eye, “I’ll do it with you!”

  This was a bad idea, but though this registered in Iofiel’s mind as fact, she wasn’t really thinking right now. She was hearing someone tell her a problem, and all she wanted was to help solve it.

  “What?”

  “I’ll transfer majors. Then, if someone harasses you, they’ll have to go through me first.”

  “...Presumably to harass you for being an angel in a demon course.”

  “Okay, but I’m thick skinned. And no one ever said we couldn’t. How hard can it be? I mean, it’s not even that... un-angelic. Taking the souls of sinners? Well, in theory I should be preventing them from selling their souls, and by knowing more about the soul trade, maybe I could do that. Make a whole new career path with insider knowledge. At the very least, I can be with you for a year or two until you’re confident, right?”

  “I don’t think they’ll let you switch to a demonic major.”

  “Well, I’ll go to the office today and ask about it, okay? As long as you promise me you’ll do the same.” Iofiel had her hands on her hips, elated at the slightest shift in tone in Archie: where once he had been quiet, beat down, he seemed nearly amused. Maybe it wasn’t happy, but it was something positive.

  Archie sat up, folding his wings in and looking at his chewed up fingernails. “...I will. Thanks. Even if you get denied, it kinda means a lot.”

  “Well, you have low standards.”

  “Yeah, so it means a lot a lot. A ton. The most anything has ever meant to me.”

  Iofiel didn’t have a good follow up to that. She stood up, and helped Archie to his feet.

  “That’s what angels do,” she said. “Or demons? Things like us.”

  “Losers?”

  “Losers who have each other’s back from now on, okay? Or really, I’m fine, so... one loser protecting another.”

  “Are you really a loser?”

  “An angel studying a demon class? Absolutely.”

  She smiled widely for a moment, and gave him double thumbs up. Then she spread her wings and took off, heading back to the Hub to make what was probably a giant mistake.

  But one she was rather pleased about all the same.

  6: Clean

  IOFIEL LANDED IN the inner yard clumsily, and folded her violet wings. It had shaped up to be a wonderfully warm day, and her spirits were high as she entered through the wide, stained glass doors that lined the yard. She had about an hour until her next class, and no clue where the actual offices were in this huge building. Still, it would be good to get exploring.

  There was no organization to this place. The cafeteria was in the center, and she knew roughly how to get there, but as Iofiel wandered the many crisscrossing and winding halls, she slowly became convinced Heaven’s architect had planned the Hub in spite. On the angelic side of the building, near the dorms, she traced the perimeter only to find herself at a dead end. There were only three doors the entire length of this very extra hallway, and of course like every door in the University, they were unlabeled. Perhaps this was a specialist hall, maybe where Maalik took his healing courses. Or maybe it was just a mistake.

  Near this extra hall was a mini court
yard, only about five feet across and with no discernible entrance. In fact, only one window in all the four stories looked down into the dark shallow courtyard with a single, shaky tree in it. Maybe a magic one, sure, since there was no way it would be capable of receiving any sunlight. But still not worth the construction of this little pocket.

  The rest of the east side of the building she knew well enough, as this was where her angelic classes were located. She’d been through most of these halls at least once, and slowly gained a few bearings in this way. The second floor, with its dark wood motif, had most of the magic classrooms in a little bubble. One of the higher-level ones was empty, and she peered in: a mishmash of woods made up the floor and furniture, while the entire outer wall was a clear, glass like structure. Rows of plants were set up, each one still a sapling. But they had a foot berth.

  She wandered, carefully, into the western wings. The second floor here shifted suddenly to a dark stone, and it took her until she got to the far wall to realize she’d reached the demon dorms. Beat-up doors lined the walls, numbered and occasionally named. Some upperclassmen had carved their names with glowing magic, which pulsed when she walked by. Some were decorated with art, or collections of human photographs. One captured her image when she gazed too long at it, adding it to a collection of others who had stopped by.

  The demons who hung around here actively glared at her. Up on the third floor, which seemed to contain more dorms, she found a place without a door, where demons lounged on couches, and — she swore — one bared his fangs when he noticed her staring.

  The fourth floor was small and vacant on either side, a modest light brown wood mixed with equally light brown stone like a feeble compromise. One of the rooms here was the domed classroom where she had Human History. The others were darkened and inhabited at this time, and when she pressed her ear against the door, odd sounds crept into her ears.