Avi Marie's Arc

Chapter 20 of 30

Avi Marie rode until the horns behind her faded. Azrael had held the pass with the crystal scepter, trapping the angels who chased her. Now she flew alone with the wrapped stone against her chest. It was proof of the crime that killed her mortal. But proof meant nothing if she could not show it. If she surfaced in the open, the higher angels would seize it back and blind her again. She needed a place to reveal it where they could not reach. She passed through a jagged tear in the clouds and dropped into a quiet garden below. A white stone angel stood at its center, weeping into a fountain. Water ran down its carved cheeks and gathered in the basin. Flowers ringed the pool. The place felt forgotten, hidden from the light above. Avi Marie landed and slid from the horse. Here, at least, no wings beat overhead. But a hidden place was still a trap. No witness could see her here. If she stayed, she died in secret, and the stone stayed buried forever. She stared into the weeping fountain and understood. Hiding was not the answer. She needed the truth to reach someone who could not be silenced. Azrael landed hard beside her. His white robe was torn. The scepter was spent, its crystal dark. "They'll break free soon," he said. "The crystal doesn't hold forever." "I can't hide with this," Avi Marie said. She lifted the wrapped stone. "And I can't fight them for it. Whatever I do, they take it back." Azrael looked at the fountain, then at the tear in the clouds above. "Then don't keep it," he said. "Send it down." She stared at him. "Down where?" "To the castle. To Petra. She has the ledger. She has the plate." He pointed at the horse. "It carries its own light. It knows the way back. Tie the stone to it and send it home alone. If the truth is below with your allies, the angels above lose their prize." Avi Marie's hands went cold. She had climbed this far to face the ones who gave the order. Sending the stone down meant staying here without it. It meant she could not carry it herself. "They'll come for me," she said. "Yes." He did not soften it. "But they'll chase you, not the stone." She looked at the weeping angel one last time. Then she pressed the wrapped stone into a saddle strap and knotted it tight. She turned the horse toward the tear in the clouds and struck its flank. It leapt through the rift and dropped, its light shrinking to a point below. The stone was gone from her hands. It was on its way to Petra, to the ledger, to the ones who would speak. Above her, the trapped angels began to stir. Avi Marie drew herself up between Azrael and the light. She had nothing left to lose but herself, and she meant to make them come and take it.