Iridescent (Ember 2) (42 page)

“
The earth shall cast out the dead
,” he sighed, surveying the room.

“What?”

“Candra needs to eat,” Sandal broke in before he answered.

Father Patrick nodded and directed them toward the serving station before returning his attention to the door. They queued up behind the few others accepting ladles of lumpy soup and huge bread rolls. For someone so concerned about heat, he sure didn’t seem to be conserving food.

“What did he mean about the dead?” Candra whispered. “And what’s going on with the windows? I thought Lilith can’t come in here.”

Sandal twisted her long braid into a knot at the back of her neck and leaned in close to Candra, keeping her voice barely audible. “It’s from the Bible. ‘Thy dead shall live, my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust: for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the dead.’”

“But they’re not the dead.”

Sandal’s eyebrows arched upward, and she shrugged. “It’s easier to allow people to accept what they want to than to try to convince them of the truth. There’s a whole bunch of people who don’t know what to think.”

“Is that why the windows are boarded?”

“That was to keep people busy for a while. They think it helps, so it helps them.”

“Who exactly do they think the Watchers are…and me?”

“Military, of course.”

Candra resisted the urge to smile. There was really nothing remotely funny about the situation. The idea that Father Patrick thought they were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse protected by the military, shockingly depleted of weapons, had her thinking that maybe she hadn’t woken up after all.

“I want to see the gym,” Candra said as she took a recently vacated seat at a nearby table.

“You need to eat.” Sandal covered her mouth to whisper, although she needn’t have bothered. The woman beside her was preoccupied with staring into empty space. “You are the key to saving them and us.”

“I know what I am,” Candra replied. She made no effort to keep her voice low. What did it matter if people had no idea what was really going on anyway. “Can I ask you something?”

Sandal nodded.

“How does a soul become ruptured?”

Sandal eyed her quizzically. “Why would you ask that?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Candra brushed it off quickly, hoping Sandal would take it as nothing more than a passing curiosity.

The clinking of spoons on bowls almost completely drowned out Sandal’s soft sigh. “A mortal sin, a deliberate grievous act, knowingly committed with awareness of the consequences.”

Candra stirred her soup, watching the tiny cubes of vegetables bob in the sauce.

“Of all the sins, only one can rupture a soul—murder.”

Candra bit down on the inside of her cheek and thought of Philip. Wasn’t that a mortal sin? Apparently not. She hadn’t been in control of her body then; the Arch’s power had overtaken her. She hadn’t willingly taken his life.

Sandal’s hand reached out and touched hers lightly. Candra met her eyes hesitatingly.

“Everything can be forgiven, Candra, even a mortal sin. If you need to talk, you can talk to me.”

Candra nodded, relieved that Sandal had presumed she was thinking about the gallery. The door opened again. Just as before, Father Patrick was there with his baseball bat. This time, she noted his frown and wondered if he wasn’t a little disappointed that he didn’t get to fight off an attack. Perhaps he was the type of guy who secretly played video games halfway into the night, with delusions of one day being a hero in his own action-man scenario. Either way, her slightly bland soup held more interest.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Draven standing just inside the door, observing her. She hadn’t seen him come in but presumed he was the one to disappoint Father Patrick.

Draven’s eyes pierced her, dark and depthless. His face betrayed nothing of his feelings, but something in his gaze caused a shiver to run over her skin…something raw and anguished. Notions of throwing herself into his embrace played out in her mind. She didn’t. She stayed at the table, frozen in place, the spoon halfway to her parted lips. His fingers flexed by his side, signifying that he wanted to reach out too, but he took a step back and stormed from the room.

He knows.

Chapter Thirty-Four

N
OTHING
C
HANGED
O
VERNIGHT
. Everyone, including Candra, sat around waiting. Every time she tried to suggest they plan, Draven insisted they wait it out. For a reason she couldn’t grasp, Gabe backed him up at every turn, but she guessed it had to do with Sebastian and Ananchel’s noticeable absence.

When he did speak to her, Draven didn’t make eye contact. His stare darted from the top of her head to over her shoulder. She tried moving directly into his line of vision, only for him to shift away again.

Candra ended up spending time in the gym, helping to organize the terrified people hiding out there. She fetched water, passed out blankets, and got in the way of a brewing argument between two young men over one of the few cots. Lofi pulled her away and stepped in to calm the situation. An elderly woman slept in the cot, and the two men at either end of the room with thin, itchy blankets from the nurses’ office.

After that, she took herself somewhere she could be of use until Sebastian got back, sitting with the orphaned child for a few hours. He eventually settled in her arms.

It also gave her a chance to think, a thing she’d avoided. It would have been easier if she didn’t feel different since she discovered the Arch had been inside her this entire time…but she did. She felt better, more at peace. The constant struggle inside her, the pressure, pushing her from the inside out, was gone. If she disregarded the absolute certainty of her meeting with the Arch being real, she might have almost convinced herself it hadn’t happened and the only entity inside her head was Candra herself.

She tried to get a handle on the situation with Draven and Sebastian. She didn’t doubt Draven knew about her connection with the Arch. However, she did question how long he had known and whether Sebastian also knew. Did it influence their feeling for her or hers for them? Both of them were drawn to protect her. Were they both drawn to love her too? She cringed when she thought of the implications. How could any of her relationships be real if she was never alone inside? How could they know her enough to love her when she never knew herself?

Holding the child in her arms gave her some perspective. As she sat in the corner of the cafeteria rocking him gently, she understood nothing else mattered but this young life. His pink pouting lips moved to what must have been a dream about suckling. The little boy had no name, at least none anyone was aware of yet, but he had the softest blond curls and milky skin. His pudgy fingers wrapped around Candra’s when she touched the palm of his hand. He deserved a chance at life, no matter what she had to do to give it to him.

Rays of white light broke through the spaces between the boards on the windows, and the sounds around her went from nighttime whispers to morning tensions about what would come next. Candra handed the baby back to the female Watcher.

The time for waiting was over. She had to get the Creation Blade and send Lilith back where she belonged.

Candra arrived back at the church with Lofi, determined to make plans. Before she had an opportunity to do so, the main entrance doors crashed in, shooting a hazy soft yellow light over the central aisle. Candra spun toward it in the exact same instant Lofi pushed her to the ground behind the pews. She slammed down hard on her shoulder, and the shock of it rocketed down her arm. There was a flurry of movement from the others that she couldn’t make sense of, but she presumed they were taking their places ready for a fight. Lilith had found a way around the banishment and had come for her. On instinct, she fought Lofi, still intent on facing Lilith herself with or without the blade.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

“Sebastian.” Draven voice echoed through the empty church.

Lofi’s grip loosened, and they both scrambled to their knees and peeked over the dark wooden rail. Candra blinked, adjusting to daylight after so many hours spent under the radiance of candles thanks to Father Patrick trying to save power. The muted glow from the stained glass above them didn’t help.

“Sebastian,” Lofi whispered, pulling her tawny wings against her back.

All the air left Candra’s lungs in a great whooshing sound, and relief flooded through her at an alarming rate. She didn’t stop to think about any of the reasons she should still be angry toward him. She’d told him to his face she would never think of him again and had made him believe she never wanted to. Her words had been cruel, plain and simple…but then, so were his. She’d known who and what Sebastian was when she’d fallen in love. She’d known his indelible strength and every one of his abysmal weaknesses, yet when faced with the reality instead of the abstract, she’d bolted. She experienced her own frailty down to her core when she couldn’t find any compassion for him within herself.

He stood in the huge arched doorway, as if frozen in time, except for the subtle movement of his shoulders. Brilliant daylight backlit him, as clouds rolled by outside and cast an elongated silhouette of his body on the illuminated, polished floor. In the hand of the shadow, long fingers wrapped tightly around something pointed, something that glinted when Sebastian took a step and the light caught the object.

“Sebastian,” Candra said. His name didn’t sound real coming from her lips, as if the name of the boy she loved was a figment of her imagination or a wisp of smoke she never fully grasped. She pulled herself up from her hiding place, suddenly consumed with a deep physical ache to be in his arms again.

Sebastian took a couple of halting steps before he stopped and leaned shakily on one of the pews. Draven reached out, as if to stop her when she rushed past Lofi and then him. Candra barely registered the light brush of Draven’s fingertips on her arm. A twelve-inch wall of steel and concrete could do less to keep her from Sebastian in that moment. Draven knew that, or else he would have tried harder.

She didn’t run, but merely walked as quickly as her legs would carry her. Sebastian moved with measured steps. Candra wondered if she’d hurt him irrevocably, and a stinging panic swept through her. How ridiculous that she should immediately presume he’d returned for her. She saw him more clearly as she neared. Under a layer of filth, he looked as beautiful as ever. Except there was something different about the way he held himself, something distant and yet desperate about his eyes. His hair matted to his face and neck, and his skin was damp, soaking through his cotton T-shirt. One side of his bottom lip had a nasty split. The shining red blood still fresh in the wound indicated a recently aggravated injury.

Candra hesitated four rows away from him when his fingers tightened on the blade in his right hand. His left settled on the back of one of the pews, and he seemed to lean into it for support. Thick veins snaked up around his forearms under damp, golden skin. Exhaustion weighed him down, and he’d clearly been fighting. Candra noticed a deep salt and musk scent in the air; it caught in the back of her throat—blood. She looked again and saw a thick red crust coated the blade.

“The Creation Blade,” she said in a hushed voice, her eyes opening wide. “How?”

Sebastian’s chest rose and fell heavily with each breath. “Does it matter?”

Candra flinched at his cutting tone. He looked down and shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Candra.” His eyes lifted, and she saw genuine remorse and pain. There was something so different about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “But I need you to know I wouldn’t change any of it. I wouldn’t give up one second of the time we’ve had together for anything.” He paused and sucked in a deep breath, wincing.

She started forward, wanting to go to him, but something in her told her to stay exactly where she was. A deep sense of I-don’t-want-to-see-around-the-next-corner overtook every other instinct in her body. The thought felt distinctly like self-preservation and terrified her beyond comprehension.

Sebastian’s eyes flickered past her and drew her attention to the footsteps coming from behind. Candra glanced over her shoulder and wasn’t comforted in the slightest by what she saw. Draven approached with caution, as if sneaking up on a small animal he didn’t want to disturb. Brie stood in between Lofi and Gabe, all closely bound together. Both her hands were pressed tightly to her face, so Candra could only see the way her eyebrows drew down. One of Gabe’s arms stretched around her shoulder, holding on to Lofi’s. His other hand rubbed up and down Brie’s arm in a comforting gesture. His expression remained a perfect mask displaying nothing, but Lofi was different. One of her hands held onto Gabe’s, and the other was tucked into the underside of Brie’s arm. Candra couldn’t be sure who was holding up whom. Lofi’s tears virtually screamed that something was very, very wrong.

Lofi didn’t cry. She usually barely registered any negative emotions for longer than brief moments. But now, heavy tears poured from her eyes as she sniffled in a vain effort to restrain them. The others stood around in varying degrees of curiosity and horror. Sandal closed her eyes and turned away. Even Nathaniel rubbed his palm back and forth over his shaven head and frowned gravely.