Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“Sariel taught the human race about astronomy—that was his gift. When he was to be killed for taking a human lover, Anahel gave him sanctuary here, and Sariel gave Anahel his sigil.”
“Why would he give away his sigil?”
“He can’t keep a sigil that Michael gave him when he was a watcher angel, as he was stripped of his grace.”
I nodded even as something slithered into my brain. Kyries were demonic bounty hunters. Why on earth would the man I loved know so much about angels? It didn’t really make sense.
The air was cool and I smelled salt on the breeze. When we rounded a bend, I saw it then, the ocean glistening in the distance. Talking, laughing, listening, I couldn’t remember a better time spent with my fellow warders in ages. Raphael greeting people we passed and them wishing us all a good day just added to the overall feeling of calm.
When dusk fell and the road turned into a bridge that crossed a river, we stood and looked down at it for a bit while Raphael explained that the river began in the first heaven and flowed into the sea, here in the third. The vast ocean then went on forever, to all the others, infinitely. I found that very comforting for some reason. An ocean in heaven.
Nothing was as I expected. I’d imagined a fortress or a castle, but the town, when we came to it, looked like it belonged in the Middle Ages, or like something one would find in an English countryside.
Maybe.
I truly had no idea. I’d never been out of the US, not yet, but that was what it felt like. The road through town wasn’t crudely paved like the one we’d walked in on, but instead cobblestoned. There were sturdy stone steps like the ones up to the homes I’d seen in the French Quarter in New Orleans, spaced at intervals that could be taken up from the street to the wooden walkways in front of all the stores. I liked the railings that ensured you couldn’t be pushed off back down into the street. It seemed smart, especially with how overcrowded it was.
There were lanterns everywhere, it was very well lit, and there were people of every race. I thought San Francisco was diverse, but not compared to the third heaven.
As I was following the others across the street, my focus divided between Raphael’s ass and what was happening all around me, I missed an approaching coach. I was clipped by one of the horses and went down hard, the wind knocked out of me more than anything else.
“Ignorant dreg,” the coachman yelled, grabbing the whip beside him and climbing down, growling curses under his breath the whole way before he reached me just as I sat up. He would have hit me, but Raphael was there, helping me to my feet.
“It was an accident, friend,” he said as the others crowded around me. “This is our first time here, and we didn’t realize how fast the coaches were moving through.”
Why was he explaining? And why was this even happening? I had an idea of heaven, of people all living in peace and harmony, and this certainly wasn’t it. But then, from his explanation earlier, I realized this was my fault. This heaven was neutral and not the same one—or the idea of one—I’d been taught about in Sunday school. I needed to get that out of my head.
“Accident you say?” The man eyed Raphael. “Kyrie trash, stay clear of my horses. I don’t want them drained of blood, half-breed.”
Leith and Ryan moved to help Raphael, but he shook his head, letting them know he had the situation well in hand. I knew some of that was him not wanting to bring undue attention to the humans in the midst of the inhabitants of the third heaven. After all, we weren’t supposed to be there.
“Certainly not,” Raphael agreed with the coachman, easing me back, away from his whip.
“What are you even doing here? I thought kyries were barred from—no, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He started waving his hands toward the sky.
I had no idea what was happening, but Raphael looked resigned, not frightened.
“What’s going on, Raph?”
“This,” he said, pointing up, where suddenly I saw winged men and women in the air above us. “We’re not far from the hall, so the guards are patrolling, just like you warders.”
The difference being, of course, that we didn’t have wings.
They landed, dropping from their height on straight legs just like Raphael normally did, and faced us and the man. There were seven in all, four male and three female, all in Roman-inspired armor, each with a shining gold cuirass, helmet, and swords at their sides. Their white-feathered wings, now folded behind them, were glorious, rising a couple of feet over their heads and dragging on the ground as they walked. In flight, they were immense, easily a fourteen-foot wingspan, and they caught the light and looked as though the edges of each feather were dipped in gold.