Shadows in the Silence

by Courtney Allison Moulton

“I can check out Belgium,” Cadan offered.

  I shook my head. “You aren’t going alone.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  “You’re working with us now,” I said. “We work in teams. You’re not going alone.”

  He shrugged, seeming disappointed but accepting of my terms. “What’s my job, then?”

  “Guard Nathaniel’s copy of the grimoire,” I said. “I trust you to keep it safe. Merodach wanted to keep its power from us and Sammael may send more thugs to stop us. We still need this book to summon Azrael and hopefully perform my ascension, but I need the Pentalpha first.”

  “Let’s get ready to ship out, then,” Marcus said excitedly. No one got more pumped about a mission than him.

  “I’ll get us on a flight into Phoenix tonight,” Will said to me.

  “Sounds good,” I replied.

  He got up and headed to the study to use the computer. Ava stood and bade us good-bye and good luck. Marcus gave me a hug as I walked him out the front door.

  “I’d better let Kate know what’s going on before I go,” he said. “She’ll be furious if I leave without a good-bye.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, she would beat you to a pulp for sure.”

  “See you soon,” Marcus said, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Go kick some ass, okay?”

  “You too.”

  I closed the door behind him and turned back to find that only Cadan remained in the room. He stood and settled his hands on my shoulders.

  “You’ll be okay without me?” he asked, his gaze warm and searching my own.

  “Of course. Will you be okay without me?”

  He grinned. “I might not.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “I don’t expect a fight. We’re just going to check out this relic and if it’s the Pentalpha, then we’ll bring it home. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I will anyway.”

  “Just don’t give me a reason to worry about you, okay?”

  “You won’t need to.”

  I pulled away from him and started toward the hallway to the study. “Let me grab Nathaniel’s book for you before we forget it,” I called back to him.

  Will wasn’t in the study when I got there, but the computer still hummed and our flight information was printed out beside it. I pulled the grimoire from the shelf where I’d hidden it and made my way back to the living room. I slowed when I heard Will’s and Cadan’s voices.

  “I wanted to thank you,” Will said, seeming to force the words out, “for saving my life. And for keeping her safe.”

  “It was nothing, really,” Cadan replied. “Don’t mention it.”

  “I mean it. That wasn’t nothing. I’ve been…less than kind to you. I’m sorry for hitting you.”

  “You had every right to.”

  “Regardless, I shouldn’t have hit you,” Will said. “I apologize. Honestly.”

  “I’ll try not to give you another reason to beat me up.”

  Will paused and I peeked around the corner at them. “You’ve done so much for both of us,” he said. “You’ve proven your loyalty. It has been hard to let go of the past, but you’ve earned my respect. And my trust.”

  This time, Cadan was the one who didn’t respond right away, but when he did, his words were heavy with sincerity. “Thank you, Will.”

  “Brothers?” Will asked him.

  “Friends?” Cadan held out his hand.

  A hesitation. “Yeah.” Will shook Cadan’s hand. “Friends.”

  I couldn’t help my own smile. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I turned the corner and bounced up to the reapers, giving them both an enormous, knowing grin. “Hello-o-o-o-o,” I sang and shoved the grimoire into Cadan’s hands. “Good to see you guys are getting along.”

  Cadan flashed a little, embarrassed smile. “I’ll see you two around.”

  “Bye!” When he was gone, I turned to Will and gathered the hem of his shirt between my fingers, beaming up at him.

  “Enough of that,” he grumbled at me, but the corner of his lips tried to pull into a laugh. “You’re such a…”

  “A what?”

  “A spy!”

  “I wasn’t spying!”

  “You were eavesdropping.” He narrowed his eyes and tried not to grin.

  “Maybe I was. So what?”

  He kissed me, hard at first, but he sighed against my lips and relaxed into a slow, gentle kiss. When we parted, he looked a little sad.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked him, searching his eyes for answers.

  “I wish we didn’t have to leave again,” he confessed. “I wish we could just stay here and be happy.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t get much done if we did that,” I said. “Think of the mission as a vacation. I’ll bet Arizona is hot this time of year.”

  “Heat and cold don’t really feel like much to reapers.”

  “And you’re a Debbie Downer,” I told him bitterly. “We’ll be back home in no time. The sooner we get all of this done, the sooner we can relax.”

  He nodded, but it seemed halfhearted. “We should get packing.”

  “Can’t forget my satellite dish. The aliens might have valuable info.”

  He laughed. “Maybe they can tell us where the Pentalpha is.”

  My smile faded a little bit. “Before we go, I wanted to write letters to the families who lost their kids that night.”

  He gave me a gentle look. “Is that something humans do for each other in times of loss?”

  “It can be,” I replied. “I just want to express how sad I am in a way that doesn’t involve shedding more blood. After losing my parents, Nathaniel, Landon, and Sabina, I’m feeling so much right now and I may be one of the few people who understands what these families are experiencing.”

  “If you’re mailing them, I can put them into envelopes and stamp them,” he offered.

  “That would be great.”

  We went into the study and I pulled out a loose-leaf notebook, envelopes, stamps, and a pencil. Will sat in the chair opposite my seat at the desk and looked curiously at my notebook and pencil.

  “Don’t you need cards?” he asked.

  “Cards feel so generic and insincere,” I said. “I don’t want to say the same thing to each family.”

  I spent a little while writing the letters. I shared my memories of my classmates to their parents, wrote how sorry I was, and how I wished that night had ended up differently. I paused in horror when I saw Will cramming the letters clumsily into their envelopes.

  “What are you doing?” I snatched the paper out of his hands.

  “I’m putting them into the envelopes, just like you asked,” he said.

  “Fold them hot dog style so they fit.”

  “Fold them—what?”

  “What’s the matter with you? You’re folding them hamburger style, the short way, and they don’t fit like that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I took a piece of paper and folded it lengthwise. “Hot dog style, see? Looks like a hot dog.” I folded it crosswise. “And hamburger style. Looks like a hamburger.”

  “It looks like a piece of paper.”

  “And you look like an idiot. Just fold it this way and don’t cram the paper into the envelope.”

  He shook his head and grinned as he carefully folded the letters the way I wanted him to. “You are so ridiculous.”

  “I’m aware,” I replied. “I just want the letters to look neat, you know?”

  “I do. Sorry I messed a couple up.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “What do you say we get to packing and drop these off in the mailbox on our way to the airport?”

  “Sounds good.”

  I finished the last letter and gathered all of the envelopes. “Well, that’s it,” I said, and took a deep breath. “Adventure time.”

  PART TWO

  Requiem for a War

  17

  “I REALLY HOPE THIS RELIC IS SOMEWHERE THAT’
S air-conditioned,” I mumbled as I threw my duffle into the backseat of the pickup truck we’d rented.

  Will rolled his eyes, smiling. “We’ll stop at a gas station on the way and get you a battery-powered fan.”

  I made a pleased little noise of approval and hopped into the passenger seat. “You have to drive, though. I’m not taking on the responsibility of dodging armadillos on the highway.”

  He rounded the front of the truck and got into the driver’s side. “I’m pretty certain there aren’t any armadillos in Arizona.”

  “Why would you know that?” I asked him, looking at him like he had a third eye. “Armadillos should be in Arizona. And Michigan. They’re so cute.”

  “You are so weird.”

  “Just drive. No complaints.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We headed east from the airport on the 202 loop and took the exit toward Apache Junction. We drove around downtown and the surrounding neighborhoods to try picking up any trace of the relic’s or its guardian’s energy. The town seemed entirely normal and we could sense no reapers, angelic or demonic, and certainly no relics. By the time the sun began to set, I’d already lost my patience.

  “How certain was Ava that there was a relic here?” I asked Will, looking over at him.

  “She might have only marked the largest nearby town.”

  I groaned. “This is like looking for a needle in a haystack. or rather, a needle in a desert. Let’s head to the more rural areas.”

  He glanced at the GPS on the dashboard. “How about we take 88 out of town and go north through the mountains toward Tortilla Flat?”

  “Why not?” I rolled down my window and let in the fresh air. “The heat’s not too bad at night and the stars are incredible. It’s nice out here, huh?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “Lots of sun during the day. Good place to hide a powerful relic. The sunlight makes this place more unpleasant for the demonic.”

  I sighed. “Always the practical one. Do you ever enjoy something just to enjoy it? Besides root beer floats and playing music, I mean.”

  “Not really.”

  “If there is one thing I’ll teach you, it’s to enjoy the little things.”

  He flashed me a beautiful smile. “We’ve still got a ways to go. Teach me now.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll take that challenge. Roll down your window.”

  He eyed me suspiciously, but lowered the window anyway. “And?”

  “Stick your elbow out. Like this.” I propped my elbow on the door and hung my head out my open window. “Feel the warm wind in your hair? The dusty smell of the desert? There’s some good tunes on the radio. There’s no traffic or anything way out here. It’s a nice night, you know?”

  He took a deep breath and let the wind catch his dark hair. He gazed up at the stars for a few moments and then he looked back at me. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a nice night.”

  I smiled and closed my eyes, soaking in everything my senses could hold—and that was when my senses picked up something I didn’t expect. There was a hum of electricity on every inch of my exposed skin, much like the static on a television set.

  “Will,” I said, watching all the tiny hairs on my arms rise straight into the air. “Will, turn off at the next road.”

  Without question, he took the next right onto a narrow and rocky road. I gripped the door handle as the truck nearly bounced me out of my seat. The presence grew stronger the longer we stayed on this road, as if whatever emitted the energy called to me. I was certain whatever I’d detected was a relic. There was too much power here for it not to be. I prayed that we’d found the Pentalpha.

  It took a couple miles of rolling through the empty desert before the headlights shone on a trailer home that looked like it had been sitting in the dust for way too long. The roof sagged a bit and the handrail of its tiny porch was broken and hanging off. The worn and beaten front door hid behind a battered screen that swung on its hinges, and the windows were covered with a thick layer of dirt. Honestly, the place looked abandoned.

  “It’s there,” I said to Will.

  There was no visible driveway, so he pulled off the road in front of the trailer, driving over rocks and scrubby plants. His game face was on as he shut off the truck.

  “Should we knock on the door?” I asked, unsure of how we would proceed.

  “That doesn’t matter,” he replied. “The guardian already knows we’re here. Be prepared to fight just in case.”

  I nodded but hoped we wouldn’t have to. As we climbed out of the truck, an angelic reaper appeared through the door of the trailer and stepped down the creaky stairs. Will moved ahead of me, approaching carefully. The reaper wore clothes much cleaner than the state of his house, and his hair was shorn close to his scalp. His eyes, a soft plum color that glowed a little bit in the darkness, studied us curiously. He seemed to have concluded that Will was also angelic, but the way he rubbed the whiskers on his chin made me doubt he knew who I was.

  “State your business,” he said, his voice carrying a light, unusual accent. “I don’t like people showing up at my door. And get rid of the girl. I don’t allow humans.”

  “This is the Preliator,” Will announced, and the reaper’s eyes shot wide. “I am her Guardian. We’ve come to investigate the relic in your possession.”

  He walked toward us, gaze locked on me, his steps slow and even. “Is it true? You are the Preliator? You’re very little.”

  I chose to ignore that last addition. He seemed nervous, so I made an effort to appear friendly. I held out a hand for him to shake. “Hi. I’m Ellie.”

  The reaper watched my open hand for a few moments, long enough to make things pretty awkward, and he gave Will an unsure look. When Will didn’t immediately break his arm, he took my hand and held it firmly. “It is an honor. I am your servant and my name is Icarus.”

  I gave him a warm smile. “Great to meet you, Icarus. Can you show us to your relic, please?”

  “Yes, yes,” he said. “Come on in.”

  Will and I followed Icarus into the trailer. The interior was dark, with only a few sparse pieces of tattered furniture. The cabinets in the kitchen were broken and the carpet smelled thickly of mold. I didn’t want to seem rude by covering my mouth and nose from the smell, but it was very difficult not to. Will, politely, gave no sign of discomfort, though his sense of smell had to be a hundred times stronger than mine. Icarus held a hand out, motioning for us to stand still, and he crossed the narrow living room to one of the windows. He pulled on the blinds cord and the floor between us slid apart with a mechanical hum, revealing a grated steel spiral staircase descending into a brightly lit shaft.

  “That’s not what I expected,” I murmured to Will. He seemed unfazed by the secret passage, as if they appeared all the time in real life.

  “What relic are you looking for?” Icarus asked as he returned to where we stood.

  “It’s called the Pentalpha,” Will explained. “It’s extremely powerful and crafted by Gabriel herself. It has the ability to summon the Fallen.”

  “Ah,” Icarus said. “One of your own creations, Preliator? I’m sorry I don’t recognize this word, but I’m happy to show you what I have. Perhaps you will know it when you see it.” He started down the stairs. “Follow me. All relic guardians have their own way of surviving and protecting their charges. The house above this facility is camouflage, more or less. People don’t usually come knocking, and if the demonic track me down, then they won’t find much. It also acts as a fallout shelter. You know, just in case. After World War Two, the fifties had me a little nervous about these humans and their affinity for explosives. So I upgraded when bomb shelters were all the rage during the Cold War. Not that I’m paranoid. I’m careful. Just in case.”

  I shot Will an uncomfortable look. “No, of course not. So you’ve been down here for sixty years?”

  “Is that how long it’s been?” he asked. “I’ve had modifications done a few times. Be careful wher
e you step and where you touch the walls. There are defensive devices triggered by touch.”

  “This place is booby-trapped?” I asked, suddenly panicked.

  “A bit,” he replied. “Yeah.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks, making Will bump into me. “Why didn’t you say something? How do we get past them?”

  “No worries,” Icarus said casually. “I deactivated them when I opened the doors. I have an ability to control metal and electrical devices. But you never know. I could have missed one, so be careful.”

  I gulped. “Just in case?”

  “Yeah.”

  I bit my lip and decided to proceed at my own risk. Icarus seemed content navigating the booby-trapped staircase, so I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. We reached the bottom of the shaft and found a hallway made entirely of steel, which led to an enormous heavy door with an elaborate adornment of high-security locks. An angelic spell repelling the demonic was painted in red across the door and on the metal floor in front of it. I didn’t need to get close to smell that the paint was actually blood—fresh blood.

  “Have you ever had a breach by the demonic?” I asked Icarus.

  “They’ve never gotten this far,” he replied. The locks clicked and buzzed and retracted, allowing the door to swing open. Beyond the door was another hallway, but this one looked like it belonged in an ordinary house. A runner stretched over the carpet and the hall opened up into a living area with leather couches and an insane number of books scattered around and stacked in leaning towers. Despite Icarus’s talents with metal, there weren’t many appliances to be seen.

  “Do you live down here?” I asked.

  “Yep,” he said. “I don’t get out much except to get food and anything else I need.”

  “Couldn’t tell.”

  “Such is the life of a guardian,” he mused. “Yours ought to know.”

  I peeked over my shoulder at my hard-faced Guardian. “Will definitely doesn’t get out much unless I make him.”

  Icarus led us into a bedroom. “When one has something precious, one tends to be unwilling to let it out of sight,” he said.

  “I understand all too well,” Will replied.