Unity Faithweaver's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Unity left the carved trees behind. She carried the last piece of fear in her chest. It was heavy and cold, shaped like something that did not belong. She still did not know where Lucifer had gone. So she asked. She asked every god and spirit who stood near the gathering. Miriam Lichtenberg heard her first. The Jewish warrior wore the Star of David on her chest. On her arm, a tattoo read 11-11. She kept careful records of the lost, and she did not forget a name. If anyone tracked where the cast-out went, it would be her. "The cast-out one," Unity said. "Where did he go?" Miriam shook her head. "I keep lists. His name was taken off every list. Taken," she said. "You cannot track a man they erased." Unity turned to JC. The golden light around him was soft. He had walked many towns. He shared bread with people who had nothing. "You carry the fear of being cast out," Unity said. "You said you feel what he feels. Then you can find him." JC shook his head. "I feel the fear. I do not feel the man. I have been run out of towns. I always went back." He looked at her plainly. "He never went back. I don't know where he waits." Bob Marley sat nearby in the shade. He had argued for Lucifer before the gods. He looked tired now. "I spoke for him," Bob said. "I never met him. Speaking for a man is not the same as knowing him." Unity felt the gathering grow quiet. No one knew. Every answer closed a door. The fear in her chest pressed harder. She pressed her hand flat against it. Then a young man stepped out from behind the others. He wore a white shirt open over a tank top. His black hair was pulled back loose. He moved like he was still half inside a song. He had slipped away from a rehearsal, and his feet shifted even standing still. "You are chasing the wrong thing," Michael Jackson said. Unity looked at him. "What do you mean?" "On stage, two sounds fight. The music and the noise. You pick one and follow it." He tapped his chest, over the spot where she held the fear. "You carry his fear. His fear is a sound. Stop asking people. Follow it." Unity went still. She had been asking the gathering. The answer was not in the gathering. It was in her own chest. The cold piece of fear pulled, faint, like a thread drawn tight in one direction. She closed her eyes. She let the fear lead instead of fighting it. It pulled toward high stone walls and stained glass. A soaring cathedral, crowned with a golden cross. The place that cast him out was the place his fear still pointed. "I know where he is," Unity said. She opened her eyes and walked toward the cathedral. The gathering stayed behind. The pull in her chest grew stronger with every step.