Adriel moved gracefully over to the sofa beside a rigid Ash and Eva—walking on his feet now, apparently. He started to sit and then straightened again abruptly, staring down at the cushion. “Is that made of…flesh?”
“It’s leather,” Sunshine explained. “It’s a common material humans use. Very sturdy and long lasting.”
His brows climbed his forehead. “Itisflesh?”
“Well, yes. Usually from a cow, sheep, or pig, I believe.”
Adriel looked at the sofa again and blinked. And then he went back over to stand by the plants.
“Look,” Bel drawled, “if you’re here to administer heavenly justice for our transgressions, can we get on with it?”
“There will be no dispensing of heavenly justice,” Adriel replied. His demeanor was pleasant but also uncannily emotionless. “In fact, I came here to inform you”—he looked suddenly at Raum—“that you have passed your test.”
He frowned. “What test?”
“I’ve been watching you for some time.”
“You knew where we were this whole time?” Ash asked, moving protectively in front of Eva.
“If I wish, I can know where anyone is on Earth at any time. I knew where you were the moment I wanted to.”
“But…why not come after us ages ago?”
“Angels of my Sphere create and maintain the heavens, and affairs of Earth are not our concern. I’ve never bothered much with anything happening here. But it was because of my friendship with Sunshine that I finally took my first look at this planet.” He looked around. “The air is quite polluted, but I suppose there’s beauty to be found if one looks.”
“Beats Hell,” Meph muttered.
Adriel nodded, gazing out the window. He seemed to stare at nothing, his starry eyes unfocused. The silence stretched on. Faust whined softly, so Lily bent to pet him.
Sunshine cleared her throat lightly.
Adriel blinked. “After I argued against Sunshine falling from Heaven and rearranged her memories, I expected to put the incident from my mind and never think of it again. At the time, I thought that while it was unfortunate for her to forget someone she loved, a price had to be paid, and this seemed fitting.”
“That’s a little cold,” Meph said, ever the tactful one.
But Adriel peered at him, considering his words. “I’ve spent my entire existence free of all attachments. Perhaps I am cold.”
He looked back at Sunshine. “I’ve learned many things since then, and my biggest regret is that I didn’t give you a choice. Perhaps you would have chosen to fall rather than forget.”
Sunshine swallowed, glancing at Raum.
“I was wrong in assuming I would never think of the incident again. Rearranging Sunshine’s memories meant reliving every one of them in my own mind, and what I saw stuck with me in a way I didn’t understand. Still, I did nothing until recently when I heard about the demons who’d escaped Hell to wreak havoc upon the Earth. Again, such things aren’t my concern, and I was only told because Belial was among them.”
“Why is Bel important?” Meph asked. He seemed to be the only one not shocked into silence by Adriel’s mere presence.
“History has been recorded and preserved in the Empyrean Library. The story of Belial’s great sacrifice is well known among angels.”
“What sacrifice?” Bel cut in, looking alarmed.
“Your choice to fall from Heaven, of course.”
“Mywhat—?”
That was news to Raum too. Most people knew Belial had been an angel eons ago, but he’d fallen and become one of the most powerful demons ever to exist. He’d never heard anything about it being a sacrifice, however.
But Adriel waved a hand before they could inquire further. “That is not relevant presently, and unfortunately, I must keep this brief. The materialistic vibrations of this plane eat away at my essence.”
They do what now?Raum wasn’t going to ask.
