Locusts, the resurrected, the low demons. We’ve already been pushed beyond the limits of humanity. If this continues, earth will be the new Pit.
‘You should go,’ Raffe says to me. ‘This is no place for a human.’
‘What about me being your second for the contest?’
‘Nobody will remember that once they see the Watchers.’
‘Are you sure you’re not just trying to avoid getting back into the truck with me and my mom?’
He almost smiles.
He walks me back to the truck. ‘Where will you go?’ he asks.
‘I don’t know.’ Every step feels like a goodbye. ‘There are no safe places. The only place that might come close to that is the Resistance camp.’
A small frown mars his expression. ‘From what Obi showed me, those people are full of fear and anger. That’s an ugly combination, Penryn. They’d kill every one of us if they could.’ By us, it’s clear he means angels. ‘They wouldn’t care if they killed us by plague or on the dissection tables.’
‘They’re as good as it gets right now,’ I say. ‘And you know where it is so you can find me there and let me know how things went. If you want.’
His eyes look over my face and hair. Then he nods.
‘You’re going to win this trial by contest, right?’
‘Absolutely.’ He squeezes my hand. His grip is firm and warm.
Then he lets go.
‘You better. And remember your promise. Get the angels out of our world when you win.’
I reluctantly lift the sword strap over my head. I hold the scabbard for a moment and feel the weight of it.
Of course, he should have it now that he has his wings back. I’m surprised he hasn’t taken it already. They missed each other so much. Besides, he can’t be part of a trial by contest without his sword.
But Pooky Bear made me special. I was more than just a girl with it. I was an angel killer.
‘She missed you,’ I say.
He hesitates, just looking at the sword. He hasn’t touched her since he got his wings back.
When he takes her, his hands are gentle. He holds her out in his palms for a heartbeat. We both wait to see if the sword will accept him back.
When she doesn’t drop to the ground, he closes his eyes in relief. His unguarded expression makes me understand that he hadn’t made a move to take her back because he wasn’t sure if she would accept him.
All those years when he was alone, he had nothing but his sword for company. I hadn’t fully understood how hard it must have been for him to lose her.
It’s good to see him happy, but it’s bittersweet. ‘Goodbye, Pooky Bear.’ I stroke my fingers along the sheath.
Raffe pulls off the stuffed bear with its wedding-veil dress. ‘I’m sure she wants you to have this.’ He smiles.
I take it and hug the bear to my side. The fur is soft but doesn’t feel right without its steel core beneath my hands.
We reach the truck, and I slide into the driver’s seat. Raffe looks into my open window as if he has something more to say. The dried fruit the Pit lord gave him swings back and forth below that vulnerable spot between his collar bones as he leans toward me.
He gives me a kiss.
It’s slow and silky, and it makes me melt all over. He caresses my face, and I tilt my head into his touch.
Then he steps away.
He opens his beautiful snowy wings and takes off into the air to meet his Watchers.
Chapter 48
I watch Raffe and his soldiers head toward the aerie along the blue sky and wonder what will happen there. A part of me wants to see this contest, while another part wants to run and hide. It’s bound to be violent. And I’m not sure I could handle watching, knowing Raffe’s team is the underdog.
I take the wheel, still preoccupied. Before I can start the engine, Mom curls up on the seat like a girl and lays her head on my lap. She rubs my leg as if reassuring herself that I’m really here.
Her breathing becomes deep and steady as she falls asleep. How long has it been since she slept? Between worrying over Paige and me, she hasn’t had much chance to rest. I’ve been so obsessed with finding Paige and keeping her safe that I haven’t had much room for Mom.
I put my hand on her coarse hair and stroke it. I hum her apology song. It’s haunting and brings up all kinds of complicated feelings, but it’s the only lullaby I know.
My mother hasn’t asked the questions that a normal person would ask, and I’m grateful for it. It’s like the world has become so crazy that it makes sense to her now.
I turn on the engine and drive us out.
‘Thanks, Mom. For coming to rescue me.’ My voice comes out reedy and a little wobbly. I clear my throat. ‘Not every mom would do that in a world like this.’
I don’t know if she hears me or not.
She has seen me in the arms of a demon, or what she thinks is a demon. She has seen me pop out of Beliel, riding a creature from hell. She has seen me in the company of a group of tortured, half-skinned Fallen. And she just saw me kiss an angel.
I couldn’t blame even a rational person for believing I was now deeply involved with the devil, or at least the enemy. I can’t even fathom what goes on in her head. This is a scenario she’s always feared, always warned me about. And here we are.
‘Thanks, Mom,’ I say again. There’s more to be said. And in a healthy mother–daughter relationship, more probably would be said.
But I don’t know how to begin. So I just keep humming that haunting lullaby that she used to sing to us when she was coming out of a particularly bad spell.