Halo

By the time morning came I was an emotional ruin. When I washed up and glanced in the mirror, I realized that I looked it too. My normally pale face was even whiter, and the circles under my eyes had deepened. I now even looked the part of an angel that had fallen from grace.

When I found the kitchen empty I knew immediately that something was wrong. I couldn’t remember a morning when Gabriel hadn’t been waiting to greet me with breakfast already cooking. I had repeatedly told him I could make it myself, but like a doting parent, he insisted that he enjoyed doing it. Today the table was empty and the room was quiet. I told myself that this was nothing but a minor deviation from routine. I went to the fridge to pour myself a glass of orange juice, but my hands were trembling so much that I spilled half of it across the counter. I mopped up the mess with a paper towel, fighting against the fear that was clutching at my throat.

I felt the presence of Ivy and Gabriel before I saw them or heard them come in. They stood together in the doorway, united in silent condemnation, their faces immobile and expressionless. I didn’t need them to say the words aloud. They knew. Was it my restlessness that had betrayed me? I should have expected their reaction, but it still stung like a slap in the face. For several long minutes I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I wanted to run and hide my face in Gabriel’s shirt, beg forgiveness, and feel his arms close around me; but I knew that I would find no comfort there. Despite the common portrayal of angels as endlessly loving and compassionate, I knew there was another side to them, one that could be harsh and unforgiving. The forgiveness was reserved for humans. They were always let off the hook. We had a tendency to regard them as infants, to conclude that the “poor things” didn’t know any better. But for me, the expectations were higher. I wasn’t a human, I was one of them, and there was no excuse.

There was no sound but the dripping of the tap in the sink and my ragged breathing. I couldn’t bear the silence. It would have been easier had they attacked me outright, berated me, or thrown me out; anything but the deafening silence.

“I know how this must look to you, but I had to tell him!” I blurted.

Ivy’s face was frozen in a mask of horror but Gabriel’s had turned to stone.

“I’m sorry,” I continued. “I can’t help the way I feel about him. He means so much to me.”

No one spoke.

“Please, say something,” I begged. “What’s going to happen now? We’ll be recalled to the Kingdom, won’t we? I’ll never see him again.”

I broke into a wave of tearless sobs and clutched at the edge of the counter to support myself. Neither of my siblings made any move to comfort me. I didn’t blame them. It was Gabriel who broke the silence. He turned his steel gray gaze on me, eyes blazing. When he spoke I could hear that his voice was flooded with anger.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he asked. “Do you realize the danger you have put us all in?” His anger was mounting, the signs were evident. Outside, a fierce wind began to blow, rattling the windowpanes, and a glass on the counter shattered into tiny fragments. Ivy put her hands on Gabriel’s shoulders. Her touch recalled him, and he let her guide him to the table where he sat with his back to me. His shoulders heaved as he tried to bring his rage under control. Where was his endless patience now?

“Please,” I said in barely more than a whisper. “This isn’t an excuse, but I think…”

“Don’t say it.” Ivy turned to me, a warning look on her face. “Don’t say you love him.”

“Do you want me to lie to you?” I asked. “I’ve tried not to feel like this, I really have, but he’s not like other humans. He’s different… he understands.”

“Understands?” Gabriel’s voice was tremulous, so different from his usual calm. I’d always thought nothing could ruffle his composure. “Only a handful of mortals throughout history have ever come close to understanding the divine. Are you suggesting that your school friend is one of them?”

I shrank back. I’d never heard Gabriel speak in that tone before.

“What can I do?” I said softly, tears spilling out and pouring down my face. “I’m in love with him.”

“That may be, but your love is futile,” Gabriel said unsympathetically. “It is your duty to show understanding and compassion to all of humankind and your exclusive attachment to this boy is wrong. You are from different worlds. It cannot be. Now you have endangered your own life and his.”

“His?” I asked in panic. “What do you mean?”

“Calm down, Gabriel,” Ivy said. She gripped his shoulder. “This situation has arisen and now it must be dealt with.”

“I have to know what’s going to happen!” I cried. “Will they call us back to the Kingdom? Please, I have a right to know.”

I hated to be seen like this, so desperate, so completely lacking in control, but I knew that if I wanted to keep my entire world from falling apart, I would have to keep Xavier.

“It seems to me that you have forfeited any rights you had. There is only one thing now that can be done,” said Gabriel.

“What?” I asked, trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice.

“I need to speak with the Covenant.”

I knew he meant the circle of archangels that were called upon to intervene only in the direst of situations. They were the strongest and most powerful of our kind — together, they could bring the world to its knees. Gabriel obviously felt the need to call for reinforcements.

“Will you explain how it happened?” I asked.

“There will be no need,” Gabriel replied. “They will already know.”

“What’ll happen then?”

“They will give their verdict and we will obey.”

Without another word, Gabriel swept from the kitchen, and moments later, we heard the front door close behind him.

The wait was excruciating. Ivy brewed cups of chamomile tea and sat with me in the living room, but it seemed a black cloud had descended over us both. We were in the same room but there was an ocean between us. Phantom too became uneasy, sensing that things weren’t right, and burrowed his face in my lap. I tried to block out the thought that, depending on the verdict, I might never see him again either.

We didn’t know where Gabriel had gone, but Ivy said it was most likely somewhere desolate and empty where he could communicate with the archangels without human interference. It was a bit like using wireless Internet — you had to find the best place to connect and the fewer humans around the better the connection. Gabriel needed somewhere he could meditate easily and contact the forces in the universe.

I didn’t know much about the other six in Gabriel’s arch. I knew them only by name and reputation. I wondered if any of them would be sympathetic to my cause.

Michael was the leader of the arch. He was a Prince of Light, angel of virtue, honesty, and salvation. Unlike the others, Michael was the only one who served duties as Angel of Death. Raphael was known as the Medicine of God because he was a healer and it was his duty to oversee the physical well-being of his charges on earth. He was talked of as the warmest of the archangels. Uriel was called the Fire of the Lord as he was the Angel of Punishment and was one of those called upon to devastate Sodom and Gomorrah. Raguel’s purpose was to watch over the others in the arch and ensure they behaved in compliance with the code set by the Lord. Angel of the sun, Zerachiel, kept constant watch over Heaven and earth. Ramiel’s role was to oversee divine visions given to the chosen ones on earth. It was also his duty to lead souls into judgment when their time came.

And of course there was Gabriel. He was known as the Hero of God, chief warrior of the Kingdom. But unlike the others, who were distant and removed, I looked upon Gabriel as my brother, protector, and friend. I recalled a human saying about the power of blood ties. I felt that way about Gabe and Ivy — we were of the same spirit. I hoped I hadn’t destroyed that bond through one careless action.

“What do you think they’ll say?” I asked Ivy for the fifth time, and she let out a heavy sigh.

“I honestly don’t know, Bethany.” Her voice sounded far away. “We were given clear instructions not to allow ourselves to be exposed. Nobody expected that rule to be violated, and so the consequences were never discussed.”

“You must hate me,” I said in a small voice.

She turned to look at me. “I can’t pretend to understand what you were thinking,” she said. “But you’re still my sister.”

“I know I can’t justify what I’ve done.”