Bailee-
Things haven’t been the same since my brother left. Mom’s been tense–jumping at everything. Constantly monitoring him. Even though I told her he’s fine, she has been worried sick. I think there must be something she’s not telling me, and I feel like it has to do with Autumn Hathaway. One thing I do know for certain is that she was definitely not this paranoid when I was down on earth, helping Rylee. For sure, there are things she’s holding back. And I feel like she’s not the only one.
Tension is like an elephant in the room anytime there is a big gathering. Impossible to miss. No one wants to address it. But I know we all feel it, judging by the tight smiles and uncertain glances towards the people who are supposed to be telling us what to do. Maybe I’m the only one who realizes that these things must be dangerous, though.
I knew Adam wouldn’t tell me anything about his newly acquired bruise, so I didn’t bother to ask. Anger coursed through my veins when I’d seen it. Who would dare touch my little brother? Whoever it was, I hope Adam gave them just as good as he got–if not worse.
Currently, I sit at my vanity and stare at my reflection in the oval mirror. Beside it, tacked onto the wall, hang photos of Rylee and me in those silly photo booth things at the mall. I miss my best friend. Her short dark brown hair hangs in choppy waves framing her face. She has tiny periwinkle eyes that stand in huge contrast to her tan skin. We both smile like complete dorks and make funny faces. But hey, I was having a heck of a good time.
I finger the simple lock box I keep on my vanity. It’s nothing fancy, just a mahogany box with a simple silver lock. As for the key…
I glance behind me to double-check that my door is truly closed. (One can never be too sure). Satisfied, I stare at my reflection as she reaches for the neckline of her white blouse. She pulls out a small, nearly invisible chain. On this chain hangs a delicate key. I unlock the box and immediately, the smell of death smacks me hard across the face. No matter how many times I open this box, the pungent odor still makes me want to heave up whatever is inside my stomach. Gagging, I stick my hand into the box and let the dead, black ashes run through my fingers. But there is something else in this box. Besides the ash.
I pick up the dead feather.
For the longest time I was furious with Adam. Mom said I had a right to be. What he’d done was unimaginable, pulling one of my glorious feathers out! But he’d seemed so upset that I had to forgive him. There are some people you just can’t stay mad at.
This doesn’t change facts, though.
Once a feather is gone, it’s gone. It isn’t like hair or fur on an animal. It will never come back. I’ve managed to learn how to smooth my feathers over the dead spot. But if it’s windy and my wings get ruffled the you can see the black splotch clear as day. The flaw on my otherwise flawless wings.
Shouts from outside my door startle me. Quickly, I place the feather back into the box and lock it tight. The key goes back under my shirt, hidden from everyone. I pull a hand through my hopeless curls and swing my door open, nearly concussing a poor angel.
“ACH!” she shouts, stumbling back. Her dark skin is tinged with the red of a faint blush. Her black hair is neatly plaited. Wispy feathers trail down from her wings. They are really beautiful. I recognize her, I think. I believe her name is Ciara Evers.
“Watch where you swing that thing!” she snaps.
I help her up. “I’m so sorry. I heard yelling and it startled me.”
Ciara nods vigorously. “Something’s wrong.”
“What exactly?”
“No one knows for sure. But Theodoric Kastronov–do you know him? No?–well, there’s something seriously wrong with his charge.”
“Oh?” I frown. Troubles with charges are serious deals. “What has he said?”
“Theodoric? Well, his charge is a younger boy who was orphaned. The boy became afraid of everything, began to have some sort of...illness.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What sort of illness?”
Ciara lowers her voice. “No one really knows. But the boy keeps calling it a Monster.”
I take a step back. Rylee had once told me about something like that before. She talked about her fear like it was a real, tangible thing. For us angels, we just have things we worry slightly about. For humans, however, they seem to be scared stiff about things. Their giant fears are what are known as Monsters. Well, at least that’s how us angels understand it. The Monster is a source of terror.
“Theo tried to comfort this kid,” Ciara continues. “Tried to ease the Monster. But…” her eyes get shiny. “He didn’t do a good enough job. He just got word that he’s being withdrawn. The G.A. Council is taking away Theo’s Guardian Angel privileges. And with it, his wings.”
My jaw goes slack. “Wh-why? It’s not his fault!”
Ciara rubs at her red eyes. “I know that! And Theo knows it too, he couldn’t have prevented what happened to that kid. But his charge got out of hand. Theo couldn’t do anything. Kid went totally berserk, he said.”
“Did he say how?”
Ciara bites her pink-glossed lip. “The kid...Oh, it’s so awful! He went insane. Theo woke up to find the boy locked in a closet screaming his head off and ranting about the Monster. The poor boy. And poor Theo.”
“Are you two...you know...together?”
Blushing, Ciara nods. “As of recently. But I’m afraid not for long.” she bursts into shaking sobs. Gently, I take her by the crook of her elbow. We walk to the Lobby of the Hotel. I lead her to a red plush couch with a pot of orchids on either side. In front of us sits a low, glass table with a box of donuts. I grab a strawberry-frosted, break it in half, and offer on side to Ciara. Through her tears she smiles and nibbles on a corner.
“Why wouldn’t it last?” I ask. “Theodoric sounds like a really good guy.”
“He is. And that’s not why. He’s embarrassed about losing his wings. He thinks I won’t want to be seen with him.”
That thought makes me feel queasy. Not scared, just disgusted. In my opinion, an angel should NEVER be stripped of their wings. Especially not after all they’ve done to earn them. And Removal of the Wings...it is not a pretty process. It’s also the reason why helping your charge is so important. Failure to help your charge results in Removal of the Wings. Or not even earning them, if it is your first assignment. After that...well, Removal of the Wings is like the ultimate disgrace. No one has ever earned them back before. And wings are the most important thing to an angel.
“The Kastronov’s have always had such beautiful wings,” Ciara says mournfully, fingering her own. “And Theo is so proud…”
“What time is the Removal?”
“One hour. He didn’t want me to come. But how can I not?”
“Would you mind if I joined you? My little brother is out helping a girl–it’s his first charge–and I’m worried that she might have a Monster. I wanna give him advice, you know?”
Ciara wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Yes, I’d feel so much better if you would. Uh...what’s your name?”
“Bailee Malach,” I hold out my hand and we shake.
“Do you happen to know Koda Malach?”
I deflate slightly. The name is a pin in my heart. “He is–was–my father.”
“Was? Oh,” Ciara grows silent and ducks her head, weaving her fingers through out her dark braid.
Clearing my throat I ask, “You knew him?”
“Yes,” Ciara smiles sadly and grips her knees. I watch her slim, mocha-colored fingers with lavender-painted nails and a small golden ring. “Papa–my grandfather–always told us how he mentored a smart boy named Koda. And then Koda trained my father.”
“Really?” It amazes me to hear about my dad from other people’s perspectives.
Ciara nods. “Your father was a great person.”
“I miss him,” I say quietly.
“Did he...die?” Her voice is questionable, because angels have indefinite life spans. For one to die...something truly awful has to happen.
“Well, they always say that humans have angels looking out for them,” Ciara says quietly, squeezing my hand. “But I believe that somebody is watching out for us too.”
I’ve never thought of that before. And it’s comforting to know that somewhere in my universe or outside of it, somebody’s job is to protect me. Maybe somewhere, somehow, the great Koda Malach is peering down and smiling at his seventeen-year-old daughter.
I want to find out what happened to him. Maybe it’s got something to do with why everyone is so freaked out about Adam. Is there some sort of secret about the Malach boys that I am unaware of? Sounds crazy. But I make a mental note to ask Mom about curses or bad genes later. Not that she’ll tell me anything.
Ciara nudges me. “Did I bring up some ghosts?”
“Ghosts?”
“Bad memories. If I did, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Huh? Oh, no. It’s not that. Just thinking about Koda—Dad—made me worried for my little brother, Adam. That’s all.”
She locks my gaze. “Does he have wings?”
I shake my head.
“Oh. Well, hey. Don’t worry about it. This stuff rarely happens. And on the occasion that it does, it’s just the Council being stupid.”
I glance around nervously, wondering if anybody heard Ciara bashing our leaders. True, I agree with it. But I’ve never heard someone so openly express their opinion about the G.A. Council like that. If I were Ciara I would be scared. But she just stares at me with her fierce eyes like iron. Her jaw is locked. I like her fire, and I wish I was bold enough to have some of my own. I decide right then that this girl is gonna be my new best friend.
“You’re not afraid to say stuff like that?”
She looks defiant. “Why would I be?”
“You aren’t at all worried that the G.A. Council will be angry with for saying that kind of stuff?”
She snorts. “Trust me, it’s not possible for someone to be angrier than I am right now. The worst they can do is take away my wings. And they’re already doing it to Theo. So really, how bad can it be?”
She has a point.
“C’mon,” I say, linking arms with her. “Let’s go check on your friend.”
Ciara grabs a glazed donut for the road and begins gnawing on it somewhat nervously.
“Stress-eating?” I ask.
She blushes. “Yes. Even after what I just said, I am still nervous for Theo. I hope it won’t hurt him.” she swallows the donut and then nibbles her thumbnail.
We walk down the halls, navigating our way through the Hotel for about twenty minutes. We make a little small talk, but mostly we just walk in a companionable silence. After a little more walking, we stop at a white door with translucent, mottle glass. Ciara timidly puts her hand on the handle and hesitates a moment before turning it and marching in with me in tow. We enter a round, white room with seats like white bleachers surrounding a lowered section of circular floor. In the center is a huge metal eyesore of a machine. I can only guess what its for…
The G.A. Council fill the seats on the top row, all of them clad in snowy robes with their bright wings stretched out in all their glory. That seems a little rude to show off your glorious wings when someone is about to lose their own. Though maybe that’s sorta the point.
Ciara thrusts her dark chin up into the air and sits down on a row of seats. I copy her. There are at least three dozen other angels here, if not more.
Khisoul calls us all to attention. “Quiet, quiet! We are here today to witness the punishment of a young man who has led his charge to insanity and failed to protect him.”
I sense Ciara stiffen beside me.
“Mr. Kastronov has not taken his Guardian Angel task seriously. And therefore, he must be punished.” Khiosul turns to Eme. “Eme, bring in Mr. Kastronov.”
Eme snaps her fingers and a giant door behind us slides open. A young man stumbles out, dripping with sweat. His long brown hair hangs in soggy strands around his tired face. He wears no shirt and you can see where his beautiful wings connect to his shoulder blades. The feathers look silky and are spotted with tufts of periwinkle. They are some of the most gorgeous wings I’ve ever seen.
He falls down in front of the Council, exhausted.
“THEO!” Ciara can’t take it anymore. She jumps up from her seat and tries to run towards him, but Leasen from the Council flies over and holds her back.
“Cia!” Theodoric shouts, his gray eyes blazing with passion, love, and what I think might be shame. “I told you not to come!”
“I couldn’t leave you!” she cries desperately. She turns to Leasen. “Please! He’s done nothing wrong! Don’t take his wings from him!” her voice breaks.
Sky gives her a hard look. “The matter has already been decided upon, young lady. There is no changing our minds. Now if you would please remain silent so that we may go on with the procedures.:
“I’ll never forgive you if you do this!” Ciara spits.
“Well,” says Khisoul with a brittle smile. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that the G.A. Council does not run on Miss Ciara Evers’s forgiveness.”
“You don’t know anything! Is this a game to you? You can’t do this to him!”
“Quite the contrary, Miss Evers,” Aero remarks. “We can. And we will.”
Celestial has said nothing this whole time. And it makes me wonder whether this was a unanimous decision. But I don’t get to say anything, because Khisoul flies off his perch and flips on the evil-looking machine. He pulls it toward Theodoric who is visibly shaking but trying to look brave. Ciara, however is in hysterics and it’s taking all of Leasen’s strength to hold her back. Her dark cheeks are streaming with tears.
“THEO!” she gives a bloodcurdling scream. “THEO! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO HIM! STOP IT! STOP IT! THEO! THEO! NO!”
No one listens to her. I am too terrified to move.
“Ciara, don’t,” Theodoric says firmly. “You’ll only make things worse for yourself.” he looks at Khisoul. “Please listen to me. I didn’t make Sam go insane, I promise. That kid’s like my little brother. I would never do something like that.”
“What’s done is done,” Khisoul replies grimly. “And certain taxes must be payed.” he presses a button and the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen juts out from the side of the machine. Ciara looks like she might throw-up. She sags like a piece of wet laundry in Leasen’s arms and I hold her tight.
We hear Theodoric’s begging.
“I can’t watch,” she whispers.
As the blade comes down with a sickening whoosh!, I decide that I can’t either, We huddle together, listening to Theodoric’s agonized screams. Tucked in my shoulder, Ciara lets loose her own screams. I look up and see Theodoric huddled in a ball, his back coated with glossy red. Two magnificent wings lie on the ground a few feet away. Ciara picks her head up and everybody watches as the wings fade from white to gray and then black. Slowly, they crumble into a pile of ashes. I remember my own dead feather.
Theodoric pounds his fists in rage and glares at the Council with pure black hate before pressing his forehead against the cold floor. Ciara chokes and goes back to crying.
I can’t help it. When I look at Theodoric, I see my little brother. And when I see Ciara, I see me. The possibility of this happening to Adam is so very slim.
So why do I feel like it will?
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