A Beautiful Dark

else, let’s get some things straight. Your parents are the nomads in the story Asher told you. On that we’re clear?” Devin asked.
    I nodded, my heart pounding. “And me?”
    “Yes, you know what I’m going to say. You are their child. And—” He glanced at Asher, who nodded in some kind of agreement.
    “Skye, for this to make sense, we need to tell you the truth,” Asher said.
    “Meaning what? You’ve been lying to me up until now?”
    “You’re being difficult.”
    “You’re tearing apart everything I’ve ever known to be true. Did you think I wouldn’t rebel a little?”
    He gave me a warm grin. “Actually, I do appreciate the rebellion.”
    “You would,” Devin said cuttingly.
    “Okay. Enlighten me.”
    “The Order,” Asher began. “They oversee Earth . . . but they’re not exactly, uh, from Earth.”
    “Obviously.” I didn’t bother to hide my impatience. I was ready for straight-up honesty between all of us.
    “We’re unearthly beings,” Devin cut in. “We’re—”
    I closed my eyes. I already knew what was coming. “You’re angels, right?”
    “Yes, in a manner of speaking,” he said. “It’s complicated. I suppose if it’s easier for you to classify us that way, you can, though I barely know what that word means anymore. We are also known as Malakh , messengers. We believe we are the ones who keep Earth running.”
    “But yeah,” Asher chimed in. “The wings are the same in any language.”
    “A lot written about us is pure fiction,” Devin continued, ignoring Asher. “There is so much that’s glossed over or interpreted in various ways for the sake of convenience.”
    Remembering all of Devin’s complaints about Asher’s aversion to following rules, I turned to Asher. “You’re a Rebel?” He nodded. “You broke off from the Order and left Paradise? So what is that, like a fallen angel?”
    “We’re not exactly ‘fallen,’” Asher said huffily. “I guess you could say we jumped.”
    “So my father, he was one of you?”
    “Yup. Right up until the day he—”
    “Met my mother, yeah, I know.” It was beginning to come together. “Are you a messenger, too?”
    “I often am,” he said. “I’m often sent out on what you could call, like, counterintelligence missions. You know one of the basic laws of nature: for every action there is an equal and opposite re action?”
    “Uh, yeah?”
    “Well . . . if you think of the Guardians as messengers of fate, keeping order, balance, manipulating destinies—then we’re dispatched to, you know, stop that from happening. We’re like our own system of checks and balances.”
    “ Manipulate is a strong word, Rebel,” Devin argued. “Are you sure you want to start this now?”
    “I’ll start it up any time you want, but I think we’d better keep our focus on Skye at the moment,” Asher spat.
    “Uh, guys?” I shouted. “Enough? I have another question. A big one.”
    They looked at me.
    “Ask it,” Devin said.
    “Well, if my mother was a Guardian, and my dad was a Rebel, and they were both angels but they were both mortal when I was born . . . what does that make me ?”
    “That,” Devin said, “is exactly what we’re here to find out. You are different. Special. The daughter caught between the Order of the Natural World and the chaos that tries to unravel it. Your destiny and your powers are completely unknown.”
    “My powers?”
    “Oh yes,” Devin said, smiling for the first time all afternoon. “Your powers.”

Chapter 20

    A cold wind blew through the trees and swept across the field. Asher looked dubiously at the sky.
    I shivered. “What kind of powers?”
    “We’re not human,” Asher reminded me. “Of course we have powers. Some we were born with, some we developed out of what I’d call necessity.”
    “That’s skipping ahead a bit,” Devin said, placing a tense hand on Asher’s shoulder. “But the gist of it is true. The Gifted are born with the Sight, as we’ve told you. And the Guardians in turn have other gifts. Nothing like foreseeing destinies but a few cognitive and precognitive abilities. A subtle influence on people’s minds. One of the most useful ways this manifests is in our ability to intuit—to connect with—pain. And heal it.”
    “So you did heal my ankle?” I cried. “I knew it wasn’t crazy!”
    “Far from it. Though I shouldn’t have revealed myself to you so soon, before you knew and understood the true extent of your