doesn’t need me or want me. I crack open the door and gaze at her. She looks so tired, but she also looks at peace, and I know it’s time.
Gabriel pushes through the door, and I walk behind him, stopping just inside. But then Frannie holds her hand out to me, and I stride to her side, needing to feel her touch.
“You’re ready,” I tell her, and she nods her affirmation. “Good,” I say to myself. “This is good,” I repeat a little louder-for her. Then I kiss her quickly and stand.
I turn to Gabriel. “Okay,” I say, giving him the signal.
He smirks. “Okay, what?”
“Tag her. She’s ready.”
“It was done before we walked back into the room. What’d you think, we have some big “Pomp and Circumstance” thing?”
I glower at him. “You’re such an asshole. I thought maybe you’d give her a heads-up, that’s all.”
“If she’s ready, why does she need a heads-up?”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” she says, glowering up at us.
“Should I have given you a heads-up, Frannie?” Gabriel teases.
Frannie grins. “No, but maybe Luc would have liked one.”
I start and stare down at her. “What are you talking about?”
Frannie’s eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them. “Tag-you’re it!”
I look at Gabriel, stunned. “You’re joking.”
He smiles and shrugs. “It was one of Frannie’s conditions. Plus, you’ve impressed the right deity, though Michael was less than thrilled.”
I try to digest what Gabriel is saying. “I’m tagged. for Heaven. ” I say, trying it on.
“Could you at least pretend to be happy about it? Otherwise, I may have to take it back.”
I feel the grin spread across my face as Frannie reaches up for my hand. I grab it and sit down hard in the desk chair next to the bed. “Holy shit.”
Matt cracks a dubious smile. “You can say that again. A demon tagged for Heaven. ” He shakes his head.
“So, what’s going to happen?” Frannie asks. “I mean with my life. college and all. ” her gaze shifts for an instant to me then back to Gabe, “. you guys.”
Gabriel sits next to her on the bed and grasps her other hand, visibly struggling with what to say. But his eyes say what he can’t. I see it, clear as day, even if she doesn’t. He’d give up his wings for her. All she’d have to do is ask.
His eyes drop from hers, but his hand grasps tighter. “What happens from here is up to you.”
Chapter 24
Charles
The white light of a winter afternoon, coupled with the blast of frigid air, brought water to Charles’s eyes, and he blinked for a moment. The strong hand on his upper arm guided him quickly through the open door as he was passed from one Machtvolk guard to another.
He looked out over the snow-covered forest, his eyes taking in the smoke of a hundred fires and the scattering of buildings that punctuated the foothills of the Dragon’s Spine.
He’d spent the first two days hidden with the mechoservitors and the book. He had met Garyt just hours after they’d arrived, when the loyalist guard brought the latest of Winters’s dreams, adding them to the most recent volume of the Book of Dreaming Kings. And as soon as the man had left to find food and water for Charles, the old arch-engineer busied himself reading the book while the mechoservitors continued sharing data in code. That first night-or perhaps it was day-he’d slept with a full stomach from cold roast chicken and small potatoes fried in salt and fat with dried onions. The bread had still been warm and the water was ice cold and sweet.
In the morning, he’d made his decision. The mechoservitors had resisted, as he’d expected, but in the end they had no other choice but to let him go. They needed their missing pages, and they could not leave the cave. Charles would elicit help from Rudolfo’s Gypsy Scouts.
Now, he stood outside for the first time in weeks. He felt the wind on his face and took in a great lungful even as Garyt pulled at him. “We need to move quickly,” he said.
Charles nodded and followed the guard. The dirty woolen and fur clothes stunk in his nostrils and made his skin crawl. He tried to ignore both. He kept his head down, feeling the bits of wood in his beard as they tickled his neck. It had taken them an hour to get him ready, applying the mud and ash to every inch of his body and then dressing him carefully in the clothes Garyt had brought.
They walked past log structures that looked new, and immediately Charles noted the crowd. Through the trees, he could just make out the bright canvas of large pavilion-style tents-liberated he suspected from the papal summer palace. “There are a lot of people gathering here,” he said in a low voice.
“Mass of the Falling Moon,” Garyt said. “One of their high holy days. There will be a ceremony tonight followed by three days of feasting.”
Charles smiled.
They moved along the edges of the larger pockets of people, with Garyt steering them away from the uniforms that Charles saw interspersed among the crowd. They picked their way carefully across the more populated areas near the larger wood structures and climbed a trail that took them behind a round building made of stone. They left the trail when they were out of eyeshot of any others, and Garyt kept them moving quickly.
When they were deep in the woods, Garyt paused. “You’re certain of this?”
Charles looked up. “I am.”
He’d learned about the Watcher yesterday. He’d surprised the man with his question when the guard brought him a second meal. And Charles had known the moment he asked that the man knew something about it. Still, beyond eventually acknowledging its existence, Garyt had said very little else about it despite the questions. But he had finally agreed to take him to Aedric.
Not that Charles knew exactly what he would ask of the first captain of Rudolfo’s scouts. The missing pages, according to both Isaak and the other metal man, were vital for the salvation of the light. Somehow, they had to wrest them from their mechanical guardian or-if fate was kind-search the caves that Garyt claimed it lived in while it was away on some other business. Charles hoped for the latter, because if they were truly facing one of those ancient artifacts from the days of the Younger Gods, the gypsy scouts would be no match in an open confrontation.
And Charles knew better than to believe it could be reasoned with.
He felt the strain of their quick walk in his legs now and noticed that the snow had let up. Overhead, beyond the canopy of frozen evergreens, he saw that the midmorning sky was clearing as northern winds pushed the clouds away. Even with all that time in the Beneath Places, his muscles protested the effort.
They’d not gone much farther when a low whistle brought Garyt to a halt. Charles started at the sudden sound and stumbled, catching himself. He looked around the clearing and saw the slightest shimmer, heard the slightest whisper of footprints as they materialized in the snow.
“Hail, Garyt,” he heard a voice call out. “And you as well, Androfrancine, though you are a long way from home.”
Charles noted that the direction of the words changed even as they were uttered. “Hail, Aedric. How are the others?”
“They bide well,” he answered. “We’ll see him safe back to your care, Garyt.”
Garyt inclined his head and looked at Charles. “Be cautious, old man.”
Charles nodded. “I will.”
