“Flatly? No,” Damien said. She was combing the side of her hair that wasn’t tied back in braids with one hand, looking to Santiago rather than Iofiel while she spoke. “I’m sorry, but I can’t promise anything. This is— like, I didn’t expect to get attached to an angel, but it’s still a black and white issue for me. When I graduate, I’m not going to be looking out for you, thinking wistfully every time I screw over an angel that I once knew one I kinda liked. I’m thinking— I’m thinking how can I win. This is a half truce, an agreement not to be shit to each other. Not some eternal bond.”
“If I get this wrong, it’s not like Hell’s gonna win for sure either.”
“We’re in the lead,” Santiago pointed out. She was still appearing deathly invested in the conversation, leaning forward to speak, her eyes wide and her grin quick to appear, but this remark came out as a little sad. Iofiel didn’t want any of her friends to suffer. It seemed to be mutual.
“What if the world didn’t have to end? What if we could delay it?”
“It’s prophesized, isn’t it?”
“No.” A truth, another one that made Maalik’s grip on his fiery dagger a little tighter. “We don’t know, but it doesn’t look like it. I think it just keeps going as long as humanity does.”
“Or until the Battlefield is won,” Santiago pointed out. “I’m sorry kid. But I don’t like war. I don’t particularly like humans, either. I want this to end, want Hell on Earth— and I don’t want to die, either, so I suppose I’ll let ol’ Maal curse me up. But even if I can’t talk about it, this is going to make... being friends with you funny.”
“So don’t talk about it.”
“Archie’s doing a good job of it,” Damien said, and Iofiel had somehow forgotten to glance over at him all this time.
He was silent, poking at a small cut on his lip, lapping at the blood. On his fingers was again that yellow-white magic Iofiel hadn’t been able to place, which followed his hands like a snake. It was close enough to a mild healing spell that at first that’s what she thought it’d been, but then a thought occurred to her, and then a few others.
And click, click, click, Iofiel remembered what the name Morningstar meant. Questioned again who would be send an imp to the University, recalled Archie’s hesitation when she’d nervously asked, ‘what is the devil like?’ Satan had been an ideas man, a proponent of the free will and choice, and a creature with a nasty smile. Sending Archie to University, sparing a broken imp from his promised fate, was something that sounded right.
Bringing it up now would be as stupid as revealing her mission had been, but she couldn’t hide the chill in her blood, the drop in her gut. Her solution was here— Archie had to know Morningstar’s sigil, perhaps even his summoning method. But could she really manipulate the poor creature who had brought her to this off path? Would he listen if she asked?
Iofiel liked Damien and Santiago. She liked Archie more. They were demons, below her and not worth her time, but she still wanted to see them again. Santiago was pushy, picturesquely evil, with a broad smile and cracked red lips. But she had shoved Iofiel when she had needed moving, helped her when there’d been no benefit. Damien was cold and abrupt, but with a passion for things Demons had no needs for, a way to look at art that almost made Iofiel understand it. And Archie…
Getting sentimental didn’t change things. She liked these demons, that was all. Didn’t need them dying, and now she realized if she could, she was going to try and keep them alive.
“Does binding them hurt?” she asked Maalik in Angelic, her eyes on Archie.
“Shouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Iofiel said, “For your own good. And I’m really, really sorry I dragged you into this at all.”
She was and she wasn’t, it was difficult like that.
20: Tomorrow Beckons
SOMEHOW, IT WAS nearly two weeks later on the eighteenth that Iofiel found herself moving forward. Time had sped by without her friends, each day feeling the same as the last without the occasional study session, lunch, or walk around the grounds with any of them to break it up. She saw Santiago in class, but only from a distance. When they spoke, she was curt. She sat with Archie, but more often than not in near silence. In class, she did her work. In her dorm, she studied.
Maalik’s near-curse meant that if any of the demons spoke up about Iofiel’s mission, they would die before they’d finished. It went for writing, too. Damien had nodded as Maalik lay the grounds for the spell, said ‘I understand’, but had been cold afterwards. They all knew she had made a mistake, and with things as they were, wouldn’t it be better if they stopped being friends with her altogether?
It was true that losing her friendships with Santiago, Damien, and Archie would make any potential conflict easier. But The End was in a few months, not years, and it still hurt. Archie seemed particularly reluctant, which was good for Iofiel— she had a very strong suspicion he had ties to the Morningstar, ties she needed to exploit.
Problem was, she’d already put him in enough dilemmas, and didn’t want to hurt him. Hadn’t their friendship begun with her pushing her own wants ahead of his? Except that she needed to, because her duty was to Michael first. She was pledged to him.
So she put it off. Didn’t think about it, didn’t touch her books or notes on devil summoning, just paid attention in class and did her schoolwork. Worried, a little.
But two weeks was a good long while, and eventually Iofiel had to suck her gut in and think about her attack plan. No more friends, only allies and information. No more dread.
She didn’t really believe any of this, and in fact whenever she’d have free time she’d pace the campus grounds, walking through the cold, colorful woods feeling right miserable. Her friendships with the demons had always come with barriers, but they were barriers she’d come to subvert. She missed sitting with Archie on the cool stone of his floor, shivering a little as tried to focus on work. She missed Santiago’s puzzling jokes and Damien’s secret, warm concern.
Except caring about these things is what had led to her isolating them in the first place. Two weeks ago she’d learned that for certain, finally seen that she wasn’t meant for any of that. So no more friends, no more fear, no more dread: just the devil and her duty.
It was Tuesday, so neither Iofiel nor Archie had anything after lunch. With this in mind, Iofiel pulled Archie aside as they left the cafeteria. Angels and demons were watching, but they’d been watching her for a while. The student body knew the apocalypse was due, and looked to her as some sort of odd herald. At least they’d stopped being dicks.
“Let’s head to town,” Iofiel said, hoping the forcefulness in her voice didn’t come through too strong. She knew how easy Archie was to push around, felt guilty for exploiting it, but needed him to come with her.
“Town?” he said, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing corduroy jeans and that weird cat sweater of his, with a yellow scarf wrapped high enough around his neck that is nearly obscured his mouth.
“Town. Let’s hang out.”
“What’s this... about?” Archie said, “You’ve barely spoken to me lately.”
“You haven’t been speaking with me either. So let’s heal that. In town.”
“In town.”
“Yes, yes. As I said.” Archie looked strangely glum, so Iofiel put on a broad smile. “It’ll be fun!”
“We shouldn’t leave the grounds,” Archie said, “I can’t even blend when I’m disguised as a human, anyway.” He sighed.
“When did you get so cranky? Of course you can,” Iofiel chided, pulling him outside. It was a brisk but sunny autumn day. “I’ll make sure you do. And we’ll go out for ice cream, and real food. It’ll— It’ll be—” Iofiel thought carefully for once, considered her options. Looked for an angle, as her Soul Sales professor would say. To sell him on telling her about Morningstar, she needed to win his trust. “A date.”
“A what?”
Iofiel was trying to look natu
ral, not gauge his reaction, as she readied herself for flight. It was hard not to sneak a peek: his eyebrows were raised so high it appeared they were attempting escape from his forehead, pulling up along with them his shoulders and wings.
“I don’t want to date you!”
“It’s a friend date! A... hang-out date.”
“There’s no such thing as a friend date,” Archie said. He pulled his wings out though, turning so Iofiel could better reach them. He really didn’t blend, even with his eye a dark brown, his teeth flat and white. He looked too scared to be human.
“I’m sorry we haven’t been talking,” Iofiel said, running a few minor spells on herself, “I’m sorry I dragged you into that— ah, let’s just call it ‘poster business’. But I do like you. I’ve always liked you. And we’re good friends.” She gulped, readying her wings. Others were watching, but whatever. The Vast Light was always watching too. She went for a running leap, holding Archie in her arms and taking to the sky, forcing the wind to help carry her higher. “Why else would I change majors to be with you?”
“Because you’re nice?” Archie said, dangling like a limp cat. She had natural strength beyond a human’s, extra power when in the air, but he still was small.
“That too.”
They touched down in the thickets of the city park, probably quite clumsily. Iofiel gently put Archie down first, letting him settle onto all fours, and then she fell next to him, quickly pulling her wings tight against her back. Iofiel still wasn’t great at illusions, and perhaps she’d appeared as a large goose touching down rather than a wisp of air. She lay on her side for a moment, struggling to conceal her wings, before getting up.
“I know a great place we should check out,” she said, taking Archie’s hand. She was of course thinking of the occult shop, suddenly yearning to check up on Lupe. Neither of them had any money, ID, or possessions for that matter, so getting ice cream was actually going to be impossible.
“Uh, ok.” Archie was visibly nervous, but clutched her hand tightly. He watched the trees and the footpaths, keeping his head turned for a while to stare down a pond filled with ducks.
“You’ve... never been to a city before, have you?”
“I’ve seen pictures of them in class,” Archie admitted shyly.
A whole team of ducks was waddling near the water bank, quarreling over breadcrumbs, quacking all the while. A child threw more food to them from a park bench, and Archie watched open mouthed. It was a sunny, crisp day, and there was barely breeze in the park. A woman jogged past with her dog at her side, and Archie stood still the entire time, enraptured by the sight.
The jagged buildings of the city rose from all around them, dwarfing the fall foliage with their imposing, shiny selves.
Iofiel had only been to a human community for the first time on her field trip, but she’d been born knowing roughly what to expect. For a moment she half wished she knew what it was like to be Archie. Beyond the pain, he was utterly alien in such a vast world. She was spoiled in it, ruined with knowledge of street performers and birdseed, already knowing the end of the world and the truths of human nature.
Archie just thought ducks were intriguing. “They’re so round,” he said.
“I agree.”
Iofiel didn’t know entirely where she was, or where the occult shop was, but she was happy to wander. The leaves were more than orange, coating the stone and dirt walkways like tacky carpeting. Iofiel didn’t mind holding Archie’s hand, pulling him along when he stood too still to watch a chickadee sing or dragging him towards the distant sound of music.
She didn’t really get it still, art, but it made Archie happy. She knew this because he was smiling. A man was playing guitar at what seemed to be the entrance to the park, dressed up in a brown duster and a beat-up hat. He looked like he was about to sing, but never did, instead strumming out a lively tune.
Humans gave him money. Iofiel nodded her head along, a little off on the beat. She mostly kept glancing at Archie, who was broadly happy. The melody mixed with crow song from above, and Iofiel felt good again, not manipulative. Helpful and pure. She couldn’t give this man money, but she sought him out. Murmured a prayer too low for human ears.
He would sleep well tonight.
They edged into the city proper, hands held all the while. This was an area for school groups and tourists, near a large statue of a man on his horse and an ancient church. Iofiel actually would’ve loved to stop in, take in the stained glass, but for now she appreciated the handiwork involved. The labor of love humans had for their religion. She was part of it, a confirmation of faith, but in truth humanity had figured out a good while ago you didn’t need faith to be righteous.
She admired those who could commit.
Iofiel had a keener sense of smell than a human, she thought. Wasn’t positive, but all at once she picked up on the scent of bread, and couldn’t find the source.
“You smell that?” She nudged Archie.
“Um, humidity?”
Iofiel pulled Archie along the street until they found a small bakery, quarter full of tourists. The smell was intoxicating, but they still had no money. She still hadn’t had a chance to experience cooking with Maalik either, and that thought nearly tore her from her idealism.
Then she was back, just as quick, to thinking about bread. Bread was amazing.
Archie has seized up a little as they stood in front of the window, staring behind the counter where rolls and pastries of every sort were on display. “Do you want something?” He asked quietly.
“You have money?”
“Maybe just enough for something small.” He looked at her, she nodded, and then watched in fascination as he paid for a roll. Between them it’d be nothing, but it was still warm from the oven, good looking and even better smelling.
The crust was still fairly soft, the middle an enticing collection of fluff and crumbs. Iofiel tore it in half and then held it to her nose, leaning against the wall. Archie did the same. They looked stupid, probably. Who cared?
She tried not to eat it too quickly, but one bite took up half her portion, and it was all gone too soon. Yeah. The upperclassmen were right: the cafeteria food really was shit compared to this.
“Bread is a gift from G-d,” Archie said, and in any other moment Iofiel would’ve been shocked by his outrageous language, but today she really agreed.
Archie and Iofiel wandered the city more, and it admittedly wasn’t much of an outing. More like a vacation. When they spoke, they often swore as callously as humans did. Didn’t even say ‘humans’ half the time, just ‘us’ ‘we’ and ‘people’. Music poured from coffee shops and open-doored boutiques, and Archie always reacted to the beat. Iofiel never really felt it, but she could see it expressed through him.
“Did you grow up with music?” she asked as they wandered a side street, leaving behind the music from a bagel shop. Grow up was the wrong term for it, but Iofiel was thinking about many off things.
“Never got to find out.”
“There’s music in my home,” Iofiel said, thinking, “Chants, hymns, and singing bowl songs. But I don’t know if I’m able to appreciate them as opposed to hear them. It’s like a language.”
“Music is a language.”
“I grew up speaking it, I mean, not singing.”
A church bell chimed, loud and clear, though Iofiel couldn’t see from where. It echoed for a few seconds between notes.
They continued forward, until at last Iofiel recognized where they were. Ahead of them, across the street, was The Black Crescent, the occult store. She nudged Archie. “I was there on the field trip. Let’s go.”
“As part of the trip?”
“No. Just wandered off.” She paused. “What did you do, since you couldn’t come?”
“I sat in my room and took a nap. I kinda didn’t expect to get to go anyway, being as I am. Even Duke Flauros clearly doesn’t give a shit about my wellbeing.”
“That’s sad,” Iofiel rema
rked. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been long enough. I’ve gotten tougher about it. Even if I don’t succeed, just living is going to prove some sort of point. I hope.”
They entered the shop, and Iofiel was immediately distracted. “Lupe!” She gave a big wave to the fiery-haired shopkeeper.
“Ah, the minion of Satan returns alive,” she looked up from the book she was reading. The other customer in the store, browsing a display of crystals, stared. “That is you, right? Mystery girl? Sorry, I’m face blind and mostly going by your voice and sheer height.”
“Yes, it’s me,” Iofiel said. “If you summon a demon, given a sufficient and proper offering, they become a minion of yours.”
“Again, I would suggest simply not summoning any demons, thank you,” Lupe said. Her voice was like a chime. “So I see you’re still alive. Need help finding anything?”
“I’m just dropping in to say hi—”
“Well, mission accomplished.”
“—And thank you for the soap.”
“This is where you got the soap?” Archie asked. He clearly had no idea what to make of the conversation.
“Ah, yes. This is my friend—” Iofiel realized she had no idea if ‘Archie’ was a human enough name to pass.
Lupe was awaiting the ending to that, but after a moment she spoke up, “Your friend. Well, hello. I’m Lupe. Is it time for me to learn either of your names?”
“My name’s,” Despite having heard many human names in class, Iofiel blanked out. Why was this so hard to do on the spot? For some reason, she could only think of the name ‘Cromeis Kinyk’, which on second thought, wasn’t even a name. More a series of sounds her brain had thrown together. “Eve. And he’s Adam.”
“Eve. And Adam. Okay. Hello, nice to meet you. Do you live in town?” Lupe was refreshingly relaxed, obviously taking everything as-was.
Good Angel (Good Angel Duology Book 1) Page 23