Avi Marie's Arc

Chapter 10 of 30

Avi Marie held the scorched folder as they left the records building. The name inside sat cold in her chest. Petra Lund walked beside them, hands in her suit pockets. She had burned records for seven years to protect the one named on that page. Now she walked out with them. "Where do we go?" Avi Marie asked. Petra did not slow. "Somewhere quiet. My employer has ears here." They climbed toward the cloud-country, past the great cathedral where Avi Marie once lived. Petra led them to a wood cabin far from any road. Snow packed its roof. A broad porch faced open sky. "He kept records here too," Petra said. "Duplicates. Enough to hang him." She unlocked the door. Garrett stopped on the steps. He tracked people for a living, and he had walked these woods many seasons. He crouched and pressed a finger to a boot print in the snow. "Fresh," he said. "One man. Heavy. Came before us." He stood. "He's still here." The door swung open on its own. An angel stood inside, dressed in white, wings spread wide. Not Azrael. His face was hard and still. "Petra Lund," he said. "You talked. Word spreads fast." He raised a hand. Cold light gathered there. "He sent me to close every mouth before you reach him." Malphas moved first. The goat lowered his horns and charged low across the floor. He rammed the enforcer's knee. The angel buckled. His light shot wide and scorched the timber wall. Azrael sprang past Avi Marie and drove a shoulder into the man's chest, pinning a white wing against the doorframe. "The folder," Azrael grunted. "Burn it or we're done." "No." Avi Marie stepped forward. The enforcer tore free of Azrael and swung toward Petra. His hand closed on her throat. He lifted her off her feet against the wall. "You should have kept burning," he said. Avi Marie's power had returned in the cloud-country. She let it fill her hands. She caught the enforcer's wrist and pulled. His grip broke. Petra dropped, gasping. The angel turned on Avi Marie, light rising again. Garrett threw an iron lantern from the porch. It struck the man's temple. He stumbled. Malphas hooked a horn behind his ankle and dropped him flat. Avi Marie knelt on his chest and pressed her light to his brow. "Who sent you? Say the name." His mouth twisted. "You already have it," he said. "On the page." His eyes rolled back. His body went limp and cold. Empty. The same hollowing she knew. Her superior had spent this man to reach her, then discarded him. Petra rubbed her bruised throat. "He'll know we survived," she said. "He'll know I turned." Avi Marie stood. The name on the page was true. Her superior was hunting her now, and he would not stop. "Then we stop hiding," she said. "We go to him."