I went to talk to Inca today about Gabrielle. Apparently Danit has already spoken to Eburnean, who agrees with her that I need less on my shoulders just now. Inca, however, will stay on as Gabrielle’s Guardian. “Well,” I said, “at least she will not be completely abandoned.”
“Stop that now,” Inca said sternly, startling me. “You are not abandoning her. You are caring for yourself, which is not only permitted, it is wise. And if you have the opportunity to give yourself more rest and you do not take it, then you are only punishing yourself.”
I did not quite know what to say to that. Her bluntness was surprising, and yet somehow refreshing to me.
“Now if you are finished feeling sorry for yourself,” she said, “come with me.”
I did as I was told. She brought me to a wooded mountaintop at night, thick with trees and humming with the sounds of insects and frogs. Somewhere was the noise of a trickling stream. It was very dark and peaceful.
“What is this place?” I asked her, but she was not the one to answer.
“This is a favorite resting place of mine.” I turned quickly to see Orison approaching us through the trees. He smiled at me. “It is a very peaceful, safe place, and so whenever I have a moment, I like to come here. I thought it might be a good place for you just now.”
Inca murmured something and disappeared, leaving the two of us alone. I looked at Orison, who was standing silently, wings slightly spread, as if he could feel the gentle wind against them. “I do not want to take you away from your work,” I said.
“None will be harmed by my absence tonight,” he answered. “And I thought that you might be helped by my presence.”
I was not sure whether it would help or hurt, but I did have questions for him, questions that I have wanted to ask since the day Shannon was lost. Even so, it was hard to speak the first one.
“Where is she?” I managed at last.
Orison sighed. “She is in the realms of the Enemy. Gathers bring the souls of the lost to the edge of our Father’s domain and cast them out beyond.”
“Have you ever been there?” I asked him.
Orison shook his head. “Not even the most powerful angel can venture into that place and return safely. There are rumors that some of the more blessed saints can do so, but that has never been confirmed to my satisfaction.”
My hands were clenched into fists. I forced myself to relax. “And what will happen to her there?”
“The best outcome we can hope for,” Orison said slowly, “is that she stays out of the Enemy’s sight. That place is vast in emptiness, and souls can wander alone for eternity without ever finding another. At least there is a certain level of rest in that, though never true peace.”
I heard doubt in his voice. “But you do not think that will happen.” I could not imagine what could be worse than eternal loneliness and homelessness.
“No,” Orison said. “I think that all the traits that made you admire Shannon will draw him to her, as well. I think that he will find her, and that he will use her.”
That was what I feared most of all. “And she will become one of the Fallen?”
Orison nodded.
My heart was small with horror. “Father forbid it,” I whispered.
“Amen,” Orison agreed.
I shuddered, and it was a moment before I could speak again. “What will they make her do?”
He was quiet for a time, studying me. Finally he said, “I cannot be certain without knowing who she was before her incarnation. I do know, however, that souls most often retain their basic purposes. A Guardian will continue to protect others even in life, while a Muse will seek out inspiration, and so on. With the Fallen, those purposes are reversed and tainted.” He looked away then, and his voice was heavy and sad. “Those Fallen who attack humans were once our very own brothers, Guardians whose failure makes them hate what once they loved most.”
I stared at him. “Have you ever met a Fallen whom you recognized?”
“No, I have not. It happens rarely—it is a vast universe, and there are many humans, many angels, and yes, many Fallen. But it does happen. My own mentor has told me stories of vengeance and heartbreak.”
I did not think that I wanted to hear any of those stories. So there was only one more question to ask, even though I thought I already knew the answer. “And no one has ever saved any of the Fallen?”
“No, Asa’el.” He was compassionate, but firm. “Only the Son Himself has that power, and the time for him to use it has come and gone.”
I nodded—it was the answer I had expected. Still it was hard to hear. It was the final death knell for my Shannon, the end of my very smallest hope. I knelt there in the grass, and I wept, and Orison stayed with me. I think he wept, too, but his tears did not obstruct his vision as he kept watch.