Praefatio: A Novel (24 page)

“But first, we need to talk about one of the most important things of all.” His mood turned deadly serious.

He had my full attention. “What’s that?”

Arcturus took a seat across from me. “Angelology. You must understand how we came to be, how the Order works, and your place in it.” He pulled a sword from his hip and nodded to me.

I grabbed a sword from my hip and began to circle him.

Arcturus swatted at me with his sword. And I answered with the blocks, chops, and swings he’d taught me. Arcturus barely broke his regular breathing pattern. “The Order was created by Lucifer. He convinced Michael of its necessity. Said it would make us more responsible one to another.” Arcturus jabbed at me and nearly took my eye out, but I moved quickly out of the way and almost took a nip out of his right side in return. He smiled. The kid was always smiling. “And it worked well until Lucifer was exiled, before he threatened to come back to the heavens, take over, and take angels with him. He hated being cast aside, embarrassed, stripped of his wings, and made to crawl on his stomach. He hated that his children remained loyal to their posts and did not go with him. He doesn’t want his place back. He wants to take over.”

I jabbed forward, then forward again. “I never knew Lucifer had kids.” Arcturus’s story seemed half-told.

He began slashing at me like a crazed robot. I responded with a high block above my head, then a side block, then a low block. The sound of the blades meeting rang out in the hollow space.

“Grace, the Order was arranged and instituted by our enemy. He sought to destroy us from within and use the Order to do it, to place himself and his followers as rulers over us. Do you think it is a coincidence that the seraphim are of the highest Order? And now, it cannot be undone. The Divine One cannot go back on his word.” Arcturus became quiet. He looked down at his hands, then back at me. His expression was empty and devoid of hope.

I pushed him away from me with my sword, and he stepped backward and swung his sword high above his head in a semicircle before crashing it down on me.

I quickly raised my arm to block him with my sword, but it was too late; he was too fast. The feel of the blade splitting my bone was unbelievably painful. I fell to the ground and took Arcturus with me. One part of my arm dangled at a ninety-degree angle from the other part. The sound I heard was me, screaming. I dropped to the ground with the pain of a thousand hammers, knives, and fires tearing at my arm. Blood splattered onto my face, clothes, on Arcturus, on the ground, and covered the blade.

Arcturus sat beside me and cradled me in his arms.

“Arcturus,” I cried into his ear. The pain was exactly how one would imagine it would be. Like someone slicing into your arm’s skin, bone, muscle. I wished I could pass out, like people on TV do from the pain.

Arcturus really looked like a kid at that moment. One who’d gotten caught stealing. “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m so sorry,” he offered. He threw his sword down and grabbed at my arm, bloodying his hands and nails. Arcturus pushed the pieces of my arm together and held it.
Gross
.

The searing heat from Arcturus’s hand over my arm was like hot coals being placed on a third-degree burn. I heard only my own screaming in my ears. Soon, I began to heal, bones, tendons, muscles, skin, and veins all reconnecting as if they’d never been forced apart.

When finally I quieted, Arcturus continued, whispering softly in my ear. “There are nine Orders of angels, including Angels, Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Principalities, Virtues, Powers, Authorities, and you. Humans mistakenly think one angel to be of significant class over another, but in our world, ‘purpose’ rules over class or hierarchy. Those without purpose, or who are Fallen, or are enslaved, are ruled by class. Your mother was a seraph, you know.”

Arcturus explained it all, but I was still somewhat foggy on who was higher than whom. And my arm hurt like heck. It was a lot to take in, hearing that my mom was a seraph like Lucifer. I mean, Vivienne had told me, but I’d never thought of it like that, that Lucifer and I, we were the same—almost.

“Did you catch that, Grace? You seem pretty out of it.” Arcturus looked at me with concern, but there was something else too. Fear.

“I think so. Seraphs light up everything, Cherubs kick people’s asses, Virtues are like, keepers of all things important to human survival, Powers are the historians, Authorities are the ghostwriters, Thrones are the judges, Dominions are the lawmakers, Angels are the regular Joes of our world, and who else is there?” I tried to sound happy, make jokes. “Oh wait. And Principalities.”

“Then there’s you. A totally unspecified angel, not part of the Order, and not bound by its rules. You, Grace Ann Miller, are the key to changing everything. Setting things back in order. Ending this nonsense.” A satisfied smile slid across his face. I’d managed to convince him that I was okay and not at all bothered by thoughts of being like … Lucifer.

“Great. I feel totally unprepared. I just almost got my arm chopped off by a friend. Don’t think I’m quite ready to face an enemy yet.”

Arcturus said, “You are a High Priestess among angels, a ruler, Grace. You were created from the highest and most favored of beings—embodying the angelic ideal. When the time comes for you to fight, you will be ready. I promise.”

“Okay, so the talents and posts, what about all that?” My arm was just about to feel better until my mind wondered to that email about Remi returning to his post. That night seemed so long ago.

Arcturus let out a sigh. He hated having to repeat himself. Or at least, he didn’t like talking unless there was some physical activity, like fighting, going on while talking. Arcturus loved to fight. And teaching me how to fight well, he loved that even more.

“Talents are like jobs. So, an angel can be a healer or comforter or peacemaker. That would be his talent. He can also be a death monger or demon-slayer. Also a talent and much more fun if you ask me. Some angels have multiple talents, like you.” He let go of my arm, which now felt like it was on the mend. It still hurt, though. Arcturus ran his hand over my arm and a cast materialized over it.

“I do?” I perked up and cocked my head sideways. “How do you know what your talent is? What about posts? What’s Remi’s post?” I spat it out as if someone had slapped me on the back while drinking.

“Grace.” Another long sigh from Arcturus, like I was exhausting him with my stupidity. He stood up. “I tell you what. Let’s continue this outside. You know, so we can get some fresh air. It’s kind of stuffy in here.” Arcturus looked like a kid who had just begged his mother for an ice pop before dinner. Because I ranked higher than he did, he was not allowed to turn his back on me or walk away. He wanted to so badly, I could tell.

I fought a smile. “Okay, Arcturus. Okay.” I was so tired, and I had little desire to get beaten up by Arcturus again. I found the strength I needed to complete the physical portion of my training, which continued for six hours after Titan finished with me. I didn’t return to my quarters most nights until after midnight.

By the end of the week, I had completed training in military defense strategy, martial arts, defensive action, offensive maneuvers, ancient physical and mental arts, street weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, and chemical, cyber, and biological warfare. I worked hard to achieve superior agility, flexibility, strength, range, and timing. Arcturus suggested I keep my advancement in these areas between the two of us. Said I couldn’t trust anyone.

That day, Arcturus wanted to “practice hand-to-hand combat.” He threw the first punch and hit me square in the face. Little cornrowed jerk.

I steadied myself, pushed my right leg back, and held one hand up blocking my face, the other hand—now completely healed—ready to punch. He circled me, jumping up and down like Muhammed Ali. Amateur. I remained still.

“Let’s go, cherub. Answer my questions. You promised,” I yelled over the growing wind. Just as Arcturus planted his right foot back and looked down to ensure he was on solid footing, I rocked an X-kick that hit him under his chin and knocked him back. Then I spiral kicked him again with my other foot, which knocked him to the ground, probably part of his plan all along. I wasn’t that good. Not yet.

I landed above him with legs spread on either side of him, my left arm in front of my face ready to block him, and my right arm close to my chest, ready to jab. I was breathing heavily, adrenaline flowing, getting warmed up. My arm was getting heavy and starting to hurt.

“Uncle, uncle.” Arcturus smiled and faked a wounded look.

I knew it was gonna take way more than that for Arcturus to go down. “Yeah right. Get up. Let’s go. I’m ready now,” I insisted even as my body began to betray me. My limbs were getting shaky, and my arm muscles were burning. I hated feeling like I couldn’t keep up, feeling winded and in need of water and rest and food.

Arcturus spoke to my mind.
You can do it, Grace.
You are the one who sits at the top of the Order with a capital O, who has been sent to ensure the order, with a lowercase “o,” if things go as planned.
It was the distraction he needed to slide forward and up from under me. He steadied, and the last thing I remember was a loud “
kihap
” before he punched my lights out.

***

I’d passed final exams, and supposedly I could’ve built a human being had I wanted to. No angel had ever tried it, and I certainly wasn’t going to be the first. I had, however, built an entire galaxy, recreated the history of the world exactly through the year 1995, and frozen hell over, twice. Just kidding. That last part, it’s a joke. But no one was laughing. The crowd at the police station had grown silent, still. I stood and stretched my legs.

***

Arcturus and Caius waited for me at the exit.

“Congratulations. No one’s ever aced exams like that!” Caius shouted. He looked as if he might hug me, but his body was twisted at too awkward an angle.

“Yeah! Way to go, Grace!” Arcturus’s smile was wide and bright.

“Thanks,” I offered, trying to hide the smile I’d been wearing since Titan had graded my perfect score. After all, they were there to spar with me, not make nice. They were there to teach me how to defend myself. “Wait. All angels had to do this? I thought it was just me. ’Cause I’m human. Well. Not. You know what I mean.” I looked from Caius to Arcturus, then to the open field in front of us.

“Nope. Everyone trains, regardless of class, race, talent, or post. Which reminds me … ” Arcturus elbowed me in the arm without looking in my direction.

Caius walked toward the center of the field. I ran to catch up with him while Arcturus wrapped his hands. But Caius wasn’t skilled in human communication. He didn’t know I wanted to ask him something. That I had been dying to ask … someone. “Can you tell me about … Remi?”

“What’s to tell?” Cauis stared off into the field. His hands were already wrapped.

“Why is it that every time I ask a question of you people, I can never get a straight answer? Is it not your job to teach me?” I kicked the dirt under my feet.

Arcturus arrived and began wrapping my hands. I grabbed the heavy-duty hand wrap from him and did it myself. First, I looped it over my thumb, then pulled it across, then under my wrist four times, then over my thumb knuckle and under my palm. “Well?”

“Grace, we’d never lie to you.” The look on Arcturus face was serious, wounded even. “I just think sometimes the whole truth is best heard from the person in question.” He reached for the wrap, but I snatched my hand back.

I wrapped my knuckles three times, then placed it under the thumb and between my pinky and fourth finger. I repeated wrapping, alternating between my knuckles and fingers until I was done.

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” I placed my red-wrapped hands on my hips.

“I’m just saying. You should ask Remi what the email means, who it’s from or whatever.” Arcturus hung his head down again as if awaiting my chastisement. But the joke was on me. I had no idea how to chastise a lower angel. We hadn’t studied that part. I turned to walk away from the two of them, right into Caius, who greeted me with a jab to the face.

***

Being a runaway was harder than it sounded, considering Sergeant Mullane had all sixty of Peak’s finest police officers searching for me at any given time. I managed to stay out of sight, though I did attend a few of Gavin’s shows. Learning to be invisible was an art I still had to fully master. My options were limited to shapeshifting, which was kind of cool, or inhabiting others, which I don’t recommend.

After a few unsubstantiated “Grace” sightings, Gavin suggested I try shapeshifting so we could be together without anyone noticing. I did it twice; once as a polar bear (yes—that polar bear spotted on North Elm Street was me) and once as Gavin’s new pet leopard (eccentric rock star extravagance). Neither was as cool as it sounds. You try eating gazelles for dinner.

In the end, our little fun gave way to Gavin being fined twelve hundred dollars and me earning a tranquilizer in the butt. Emeria and LJ refused to let me live that down. Not to mention Caius and Arcturus had to don zookeeper uniforms and rescue me from animal control’s lockup. I so wanted to bite the lunatic animal control guy who kept smacking my butt and calling me kitty. To which Gavin added, “Now you know what it’s like to want desperately to bite someone.”
Har har
.

Aside from Gavin, my only friend was LJ, if you wanted to call her that; friend, not LJ. Though she mostly hung with Emeria; LJ would come by when she tired of her, or when Emeria made her mad, which was just about every other day. I accepted the fact that I was the backup friend. It was better than nothing, I suppose, since Remi had put me on the Pay No Mind list.

I had developed a small tolerance for the otherworldlies who hung around Kheiron. “Yeah, that’s gonna come back to bite you,” Caius had warned. He didn’t even recognize the pun he’d made. My one qualm was their tendency to keep humans around as pets for a few days prior to dining on them. I’d see them hanging around the mansion, thinking they were all cool and emo, with no idea they were about to die.