Feather
If someone had told me I had enough energy to laugh, I would have known they were lying, or not paying attention. I couldn’t manage to keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes, and when I was conscious, the pain was excruciating. But Righteous’s voice at the door gave me a reason to fight the lethargy. Eavesdropping was almost as good as sleep at making me forget the pain. And the conversation that followed had me holding in more than a few giggles.
“You sent for me, Maker?” His voice was as snooty and tight as ever.
Mikhail’s sounded more like a tiger growling. “I did indeed. I have a very important task for you.”
Mikhail led him into the room, but I heard Righteous balking when they got close. “I am cleaned, Master Mikhail. Thoroughly purified and ready for a new mission. I can’t touch the Novice. My work is too important.”
“Oh?” Mikhail’s tone was acidic. “I suppose Valor or Hope could be summoned, and they might be more competent as well. You are dismi—”
“No, I’m sorry. Please, I can help. What is the task?”
Mikhail’s voice, for the first time, sounded silky. Sinister. “One of the most challenging threats you will ever face. A pernicious, ever-present evil, an impossible task. Perfect for a shining, mature Protector such as yourself. And vital to keeping you and all the rest of Sanctuary pristine. But if you hesitate for even a moment… if you don’t appreciate the gravity of the threat, you’re not the Protector I need.”
“Maker, I am sorry. I’m ready for whatever task you assign. I will protect.”
“Yes, you will,” Mikhail agreed. There was something in his voice that reminded me of a coiled-up snake. An invisible trap, spring loaded and ready to strike. I opened my eyes the smallest crack. I had to see this. Mikhail held out a golden box to Righteous. “Have you ever encountered a box like this, one made to contain a great evil?”
“No,” he answered, taking it. “You made it here?”
“I did. I fashioned it today. I am leaving the workshop in your hands.”
“For how long?” Righteous’s question was way too eager.
Mikhail scoffed. “A few hours. I’m going to the baths for purification, then to meet with a Guide to make mission plans for our next cohort of Novices. The girl by the fire is sleeping, but do not wake her for any reason. It may kill her.”
“Kill her?” Panic, and a fluttering of wings that I knew were white ones, filled my ears. I slammed my eyes shut. “Unmake her?”
“Not precisely,” Mikhail purred. “It could kill her physically by stopping her heart, her breath. But it might also extinguish her soul’s light. The smut she wears now—which strangely matches in texture, color, and scent to that which you bore earlier—has affected the very core of her spirit. It’s crushing her slowly. To save her, I had to take steps that even Gavriel counseled me against.”
Righteous was silent, but my mind was buzzing. I didn’t feel like I was being crushed slowly, not anymore. And what steps?
Mikhail started up again. “I’ve been cutting it away as fast as I can in an effort to save her, but I have to go slowly. If a Protector, or even a High Angeli, with half this much smut removed it suddenly, they would die.”
“D-die?” Righteous sputtered. “But I had smut, and removed it—”
“Did you?” Mikhail’s growl was a promise of harm. “Did you really? Do you think it so easy to lose the evil you placed upon yourself? You think you would not have remembered every single instant of the agony that cutting away your own evil choices and evil thoughts causes? Look at you, shining with your own self-righteousness. So sure you have done no harm. That you own no blame.
“Look ather, Righteous. You did that,” he accused, almost too quietly for me to hear. “I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but something caused her to take your smut on, though that should be impossible.”
“It wasn’t mine!” Righteous was panting with some emotion, though I knew better than to sit up to see whether it was panic or regret or anger. “I swear, I didn’t mean for her to be afflicted.”
“Of course you didn’t. You’re not evil enough to plan or perpetrate such a thing.” The room hummed with a strange, violent energy. “You’re ordinary.”
A gasp. “Ordinary? Are you trying to insult me?”
“Insult? Boy, don’t add the taint of pride to your robes right before your vital task. I was merely echoing what is so obvious in all the choices you made here in Sanctuary. And on Earth.”
“What do you mean? I have completed every mission, done all that was asked, cleansed myself thoroughly and completely—” His last words rang with a flat, sour note, and Mikhail laughed.
“Oh, I imagine you still have that stain from Italy, eh? You know, Gavriel and I had long discussions about what you’ll need to do to get rid of a mark that old. We were on the verge of offering you the soul knife for your own use, until she showed up and needed it more.”
My mind whirled. I knew the smut he was talking about, the one on his arm. But what was the big deal?
Mikhail’s voice dropped. “You can’t ever become one of us, Righteous, until it’s gone. You know that. You can’t ascend.”
“I’ve tried to cleanse it.” For a moment, the heartbreak and angst in his words made my heart ache.
