Then he pitched his past self back into the Announcer.
He watched the void fading in the hot sun. The body made a drawn-out whistling sound as it tumbled into time, as if it were falling off a cliff. The Announcer split into infinitesimal traces, and was gone.
What the hell just happened? Shelby asked, helping Miles to his feet.
The Nephilim was ghostly white, gaping down at his hands, flipping them over and examining them as if he'd never seen them before.
Daniel turned to Miles. Thank you.
The Nephilim boy's blue eyes looked eager and terrified at the same time, as if he wanted to pump every detail out of Daniel about what had just happened but didn't want to show his excitement. Shelby was speechless, which was an unprecedented event.
Daniel had despised Miles until then. He'd been annoyed by Shelby, who'd practically led the Outcasts straight toward Luce. But at that moment, under the olive tree, he could see why Luce had befriended both of them. And he was glad.
A horn whined in the distance. Miles and Shelby jumped.
It was a shofar, a sacred ram's horn that made a long, nasal note--often used to announce religious services and festivals. Until then Daniel hadn't looked around enough to realize where they were.
The three of them stood under the mottled shade of the olive tree at the crest of a low hill. In front of them, the hill sloped down to a wide, flat valley, tawny with the tall native grasses that had never been cut by man. In the middle of the valley was a narrow strip of green, where wildflowers grew alongside a narrow river.
Just east of the riverbed, a small group of tents stood clustered together, facing a larger square structure made of white stones, with a latticed wooden roof. The blast of the shofar must have come from that temple.
A line of women in colorful cloaks that fell to their ankles moved in and out of the temple. They carried clay jugs and bronze trays of food, as if in preparation for a feast. Oh, Daniel said aloud, feeling a profound melancholy settle over him.
Oh what? Shelby asked.
Daniel gripped the hood of Shelby's camouflage sweatshirt. If you're looking for Luce here, you won't find her. She's dead. She died a month ago.
Miles nearly choked.
You mean the Luce from this lifetime, Shelby said. Not our Luce. Right?
Our Luce--my Luce--isn't here, either. She never knew this place existed, so her Announcers wouldn't bring her here. Yours wouldn't have, either.
Shelby and Miles shared a glance. You say you're looking for Luce, Shelby said, but if you know she isn't here, why are you still hanging around?
Daniel stared past them, at the valley below. Unfinished business.
Who is that? Miles asked, pointing at a woman in a long white dress. She was tall and willowy, with red hair that shimmered in the sunlight. Her dress was cut low, showing off a lot of golden skin. She was singing something soft and lovely, a tease of a song they could barely hear.
That's Lilith, Daniel said slowly. She's supposed to be married today.
Miles took a few steps along a path leading down from the olive tree toward the valley where the temple stood, about a hundred feet below them, as if to get a better look.
Miles, wait! Shelby scrambled after him. This isn't like when we were in Vegas. This is some freaking ... other time or whatever. You can't just see a hot girl and go strolling in like you own the place. She turned to look at Daniel for help.
Stay low, Daniel instructed them. Keep under the grass line. And stop when I say stop.
Carefully, they wound down the path, stopping at last near the bank of the river, downstream from the temple. All the tents in the small community had been strewn with garlands of marigolds and cassis flowers. They were in earshot of the voices of Lilith and the girls who were helping prepare her for the wedding. The girls laughed and joined in Lilith's song as they braided her long red hair into a wreath around her head.
Shelby turned to Miles. Doesn't she look kind of like Lilith from our class at Shoreline?
"No," Miles said instantly. He studied the bride for a moment. Okay, maybe a little bit. Weird.
Luce probably never mentioned her, Shelby explained to Daniel. She's a total bitch from Hell.
It makes sense, Daniel said. Your Lilith might come from the same long line of evil women. They're all descendants of the original mother Lilith. She was Adam's first wife.
Adam had more than one wife? Shelby gaped. What about Eve?
Before Eve.
Pre-Eve? No way.
Daniel nodded. They weren't married very long when Lilith left him. It broke his heart. He waited for her a long time, but eventually, he met Eve. And Lilith never forgave Adam for getting over her. She spent the rest of her days wandering the earth and cursing the family Adam had with Eve. And her descendants--sometimes they start out all right, but eventually, well, the apple never really falls far from the tree.
That's messed up, Miles said, despite seeming hypnotized by Lilith's beauty.
You're telling me that Lilith Clout, the girl who set my hair on fire in ninth grade, could be literally a bitch from Hell? That all my voodoo toward her might have been justified? I guess so. Daniel shrugged.
I've never felt so vindicated. Shelby laughed. Why wasn't this in any of our angelology books at Shoreline?
Shhh. Miles pointed toward the temple. Lilith had left her maidens to complete the decorations for the wedding--strewing yellow and white poppies near the entrance to the temple, weaving ribbons and small chimes made of silver into the low branches of the oak trees--and walked away from them, west, toward the river, toward where Daniel, Shelby, and Miles were hiding.
She carried a bouquet of white lilies. When she reached the riverbank, she plucked a few petals and scattered them over the water, still singing softly under her breath. Then she turned to walk north along the bank, toward a huge old carob tree with branches that drooped into the river.
A boy sat beneath it, staring into the current. His long legs were propped up close to his chest, with one arm draped over them. The other arm was skipping stones into the water. His green eyes sparkled against his tan skin. His jet-black hair was a little shaggy, and damp from a recent swim.