Archangel (26 page)

“What was the question?”

“If she had thought you would have the answer,” Josiah said equably, “I’m sure she would have asked you.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at the rebuke. “You have taken her part very quickly, I see.”

“I liked her,” the oracle repeated. “Hers is a fierce spirit. Not one you can easily control.”

Gabriel laughed with very little mirth. “No, indeed. I have considered that. Someone like Leah—a very biddable angelica. I could have controlled her with no trouble. Someone like Judith— easy to understand, easy to strike a bargain with if you’re willing to give her what she wants. Ariel, Magdalena—all the other angels, all the other women of my acquaintance—they might have a certain independence of mind, strong wills, a great deal of character, but I could handle them. I could persuade them, I could convince them that I was right. But not Rachel. I have her cooperation only if she chooses to give it. I have no influence over her at all, I’m not sure she would ever be willing to strike a bargain. She won’t even tell me the truth all the time. It is like bringing a live fire into your home and asking it not to burn.”

Josiah chuckled. “Well, Jovah picked her carefully and just for you. Perhaps he wanted to see your confidence shaken.”

“He has set me a wide range of trials, it seems,” Gabriel said with a certain grimness. “Between Raphael and Rachel, I have no peace left at all.”

“Only the strongest are put through the fire,” Josiah said. “And the forge creates things of great strength and beauty.”

“Then I shall be truly glorious by the time my tenure ends.”

I
t was early afternoon the next day by the time Gabriel finally made it back to the Eyrie. As was his habit, he attempted to identify the harmonic voices before his feet even touched the landing stone. One voice was definitely Matthew’s. The other, he thought, belonged to Esau. He listened a moment, his wings folded around him, coming for a brief time absolutely to rest. Then he shook off his abstraction and headed down into the residential tunnels.

Nathan, usually his first contact when he returned after a long flight, was still at Abel Vashir’s—or should be. Elijah’s anger with Gabriel could have spread to the other Manadavvi households, resulting in Nathan’s ejection. Gabriel hoped it wasn’t so. For one-thing, he needed Abel’s good wishes. For another, Magdalena was still at the Eyrie—or should be. Gabriel sighed. Yet another one of the trials with which Jovah had chosen to beset him.

“Truly the forge for me has been stoked very high,” he murmured, and headed directly to his own chamber.

A thorough cleansing in his water room restored his mood somewhat, and he changed into fresh leathers with his body still damp and his hair still wet. He supposed he should seek out Rachel, or Magdalena, or at the very least Hannah, and discover what had happened in his absence. A soft melody played on his door chimes made that unnecessary—someone had already come to him.

He was not best pleased, upon opening the door, to find himself face to face with the smiling Judith. She, on the other hand, seemed overjoyed.

“Oh, you
are
back! I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure— Gabriel, you’ve been gone so very long! I missed you!”

Without being invited, she stepped inside his room and sank to the floor on a plush red rug spread before his favorite chair. It did not seem worth it to be either cruel or rude, so he stayed, seating himself before her and allowing her to take his hand.

“Tell me everything,” she said. “Where you’ve been. Who you’ve seen. You must have flown all over Samaria to be gone three weeks.”

“Pretty much,” he said. “From Gaza to Breven and from Sinai to here.”

“And why?”

“I am to become Archangel in a few weeks. It seemed like a good idea to talk to some of the leaders with whom I will be dealing.”

“Was it pleasant?”

Sweet Jovah singing.
Pleasant
. “We talked serious business,” he said. “It was not designed to be entertaining.”

“Did you go to Luminaux?”

“I didn’t have time. I wanted to get back here.”

“You missed us,” she said happily.

“It is tiring to eat with strangers every day and sleep on their ill-designed beds,” he said.

“Did you go to Windy Point?”

He frowned down at her. “Why would I?”

“Well, you said you were in Jordana.”

“I have seen quite enough of Raphael in the past few months, thank you.”

She laughed softly. “I don’t understand why you don’t like him very much,” she said. “He’s so handsome.”

He smiled. “That’s a reason that would appeal to a woman more than to a man. And good looks are not essential for an Archangel, anyway.”

Now she sighed. “I almost wish he would be Archangel forever,” she said.

His voice hardened. “Why do you say that?”

She appeared surprised. “Because once you become Archangel,
you will never be here at all. I will never see you. But if you were just plain Gabriel forever—”

“I will be plain Gabriel,” he said. “I just will be plain busy Gabriel.”

He wished she would release his hand, but he did not like to draw it away from her. He walked a tricky line with Judith and he was never sure he walked it right. She was not the sweet-tempered ingénue she acted, yet her devotion to him had been unswerving since they were children, surviving every romance either one of them had had. Often he was tempted just to ask of her, “What do you
want
?” though the answer seemed so clear; she wanted him. Or perhaps she had wanted to be angelica. It was hard to know.

“So what transpired here while I was gone?” he asked, to head off any more questions about his own miserable journey.

“Martha had her baby—a mortal girl,” she said, answering the question before he could ask it. “Obadiah had an adventure rescuing some little boy’s goat in a snowstorm. It’s a very funny story—you should ask him about it. Magdalena and Rachel have gone into Velora practically every day and haven’t invited anyone else to go with them—except Obadiah, of course. He and Rachel even go down together when Maga stays here to sing.”

“Rachel and Obadiah? They’re becoming friends?” he asked doubtfully.

She was watching him closely, pretending not to. “Oh, yes!” she said, with deliberate emphasis. “They’re together all the time. I don’t believe Obadiah’s gone on any missions since that snowstorm thing. When they’re not in Velora together, they’re eating meals together or playing games. She taught him some Edori game that no one else would learn, and now he can even beat Matthew at it—”

“Well, Obadiah’s very clever,” Gabriel responded.

“Hannah thinks it’s not very nice of them to spend so much time together while you’re gone,” Judith said, her voice artless but her eyes keen. “I heard her say so to Rachel one day—”

Fatal mistake, Gabriel thought. No doubt that had just made the angelica and the angel inseparable. “Hannah has a very stern sense of propriety,” he murmured. “Runs in the Manadavvi blood. But enough about Obadiah. What have you been doing while I’ve been gone?”

Perforce she had to change the subject, so she gave him a detailed account of her own activities for the past three weeks, which he listened to distractedly. Silly to be disturbed by her malicious words, and yet—

Judith was still describing some piece of jewelry she had admired in a peddler’s caravan when the door chime sounded again. “Gome in,” Gabriel called with some relief. He had not thought to free his hand from Judith’s before the door opened and his wife stepped inside.

“Gabriel, how can I get money if I want it?” she asked, coming across the threshold with a bounce. He had never seen her so animated—nor so exotic. He only had a moment to take in the effect of her costume—close-fitting woolens, bright scarves, a glitter of gold—before the soft blur that was continuous existence resolved itself into the cold, hard crystal of a single bad moment.

Rachel had stopped halfway across the room and eyed the warm tableau of angel and supplicant. “Oh,” she said, in a much altered voice. “I see you’re busy.”

“Not at all.” Calmly, so as not to make it appear that he was snatching his hand away, he freed his fingers from Judith’s and came to his feet. Judith—surely on purpose—gave a soft embarrassed laugh and brought her hands to her cheeks.

“Oh, I’m blushing!” she exclaimed. “Rachel—truly—this is nothing but two old friends talking after a long separation—”

“Three weeks,” Rachel said. “Hardly any time at all.”

Which nettled Gabriel. “I was coming to see you,” he said to his wife.

“Obviously,” was the dry reply.

Judith stood gracefully, though she needed to catch at Gabriel’s arm for a moment when she almost lost her balance. “Rachel, really, don’t be hurt,” she said in her sweetest voice. “I just burst in on Gabriel and didn’t give him a chance to leave the room.”

“It doesn’t matter to me who sits with my husband and clutches his hand,” the angelica said distinctly. “
I’m
the one who’s embarrassed. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

And she turned and stalked out of the room as only she could.

Judith turned a guilty smile on Gabriel. “Well, now I’ve gotten you in trouble,” she said. “But she’s so prickly, Rachel.”

“And now I’d best go see what she wants.” He ushered Judith toward the door.

She went, sighing again. “I suppose this means you’re going to tell me I can’t come to your room anymore,” she said. “Or eat with you, or talk with you—”

He would have told her that, if Rachel hadn’t made that last remark—should still tell her that, except that he was now approximately as angry as his wife. “Don’t be silly,” he said somewhat sharply, because he was not entirely pleased with Judith either. “Nothing has changed for any of us. But I must go see what she wants.”

And finally getting both of them out of the room, he strode down the hall in the direction of his wife’s chamber.

Rachel had obligingly left the door half-open, so he did not bother to ring the chime. She was standing with her back to him, however, and did not turn around even when she heard him enter.

“Rachel, this is childish,” were his first words. “You cannot be angry because I was talking to Judith—”

“I try to quickly leave any room that
she
is in,” she replied instantly. “The fact that you were there had nothing to do with my walking out.”

He shut the door. “You could at least not lie about it,” he said with some heat. “If you’re angry with me—”

“I’m not angry,” she shot back. “I’m surprised that you don’t have better taste in women. Perhaps the choices aren’t all that plentiful at the Eyrie, but you could do better for yourself than Judith.”

“Why shouldn’t I like Judith?” he said. “At least she is pleased to see me when I arrive, which some
others
are not.”

“But I have become so accustomed to your absences,” she replied. “Is it any wonder I don’t realize when you’re back?”

Well, she had a point there; two, really, because there was no good reason he should have been sitting there hand-in-hand with Judith. Still. “Since you don’t seem to have missed me while I was gone,” he said rashly, “what did it matter if I hurried back?”

Now she swung round to face him, her dark eyes narrowed and her face full of warning. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I understand you didn’t lack for company while I was gone, young Obadiah providing escort to Velora when you needed it—”

“But I thought,” she said in a dulcet voice, “that you wished me to make friends among the other angels.”

“And so I do,” he said. “But not to become so friendly that it causes talk.”

She actually laughed. “Perhaps I have misunderstood all along,” she said. “I thought that fidelity was not a requirement among the angels. In fact, Hannah and Maga and half a dozen others have as good as told me that the whole race of angels desires nothing more than to reproduce, with the result being that angels love where they will, with whichever mortal agrees to it—”

He was so furious that it frightened him. He wanted to slap her, or maybe strangle her. Instead, he turned away from her and crossed the room. He found himself face to face with an unfamiliar wall hanging, an abstract pattern of green and burgundy. The room, like Rachel, had become transformed. He stared at it until he was calm enough to speak.

“You did not misunderstand,” he said icily, still with his back to her. “In general, angels have very—lax—moral standards. And you know the reason, though you choose to treat it with contempt. You have made it plain that the Edori do not recognize the sanctity of marriage, and so I cannot be surprised if, these factors taken together, you see no reason to hesitate in—enjoying someone else’s company.”

Now he wheeled around to face her. His anger was receding, leaving a great black coldness in its wake. “But in case you are indulging yourself with Obadiah because of how you perceive my relationship to Judith, let me tell you that she is not, has never been and will not be, my lover. Despite what she may have told you and despite what she may hope for herself.”

She was watching him again with narrowed eyes, but she looked a little more convinced, as if some of what he said was getting through. Hard to believe that someone like Rachel could be jealous of someone like Judith; the thought unexpectedly found room in his mind.

“She certainly seems to enjoy your favor,” Rachel said, her voice still antagonistic.

“She seeks me out. Would you have me be cruel to her?”

“It’s not like you don’t know how to repulse someone.”

He was surprised into a smile. “You’re no amateur yourself,” he said.

She looked a little self-conscious. The last of her animosity seemed to have faded away. “There is something about you,” she admitted, “that makes me want to behave badly.”

“Jovah’s little joke,” he remarked. The sudden evaporation of such intense anger had left him feeling slightly shaken, a little giddy. It was a strange sensation. He experimented with a smile. “So tell me,” he invited, “how you have passed these three weeks that did not seem very long to you.”