Angels of Darkness

flickering light. He was a handsome man, or he would be, if his face wasn’t so closed and woeful. His features were fine, almost delicate, his cheekbones prominent enough to throw their own shadows. His eyebrows were so feathery they might have been painted on with a light hand, and again, he had found the energy to shave himself. He also appeared to have combed his hair. At any rate, it was not quite the mess it had been the day before.
    His eyes were a blank and liquid black that seemed to be swirled with streaks of white. But that might just have been the reflections of the flames dancing on the wick.
    â€œIt’s impossible to tell just by looking,” I said.
    He looked startled and then displeased. “What is?” he said, though he clearly knew what I meant.
    â€œYour eyes. They don’t look burned. And there’s no scarring on your face.”
    â€œJovah spared me disfigurement,” he said sardonically. “One of his many kindnesses.”
    â€œWhat about pain?” I said.
    â€œVery little now. At the beginning, when the burns were fresh—that was bad.”
    I finished up a mouthful of food and greedily took another. Even working with dried meat and limited materials, Alma was a good cook. “So you lost your sight, and you have some scars,” I said, when I’d swallowed another bite. “Were you harmed in any other way?”
    â€œThose seem to be sufficient evils.”
    â€œSo your wings weren’t injured. You can still fly.”
    His expression showed how stupid he thought me, or how cruel. The wings in question fluttered forward a bit, then back, reminding me of nothing so much as the lashing tale of an unhappy cat. “I can’t see . Of course I can’t fly.”
    I glanced at him in surprise. “Really? You haven’t tried it since you were blinded? You might need one of your angel friends to go aloft with you, talk you through it, but I’d think you could fly if someone acted as your guide.”
    Corban was silent a moment, his face creased with displeasure. At first I thought he was annoyed at me again, but then I realized he was angry at an old memory. “I did try flying with a guide—once—shortly after the accident,” he said at last. “But it was terrifying. I had no sense of direction—I don’t just mean north and south, I mean up and down. Once I was high enough, it was hard to tell where the ground might be below me. When the wind blew, even a little, I lost my bearings. It was like being—” He seemed to search for words. “Like being caught in a rockslide when a mountain is falling. I was tumbled in all directions. I couldn’t see, I was filled with panic.”
    â€œWhere was your friend?”
    â€œNearby, watching me flail, thinking if he remained silent I would be forced to figure out my circumstances, which would help me gain confidence. He did come to my aid when it seemed likely I would crash, and we both walked away from the episode shaken. We have only spoken once or twice since.”
    â€œWell, obviously he was the wrong one to try that with,” I said. “And maybe it was too soon.”
    â€œI don’t think the fear will leave me no matter how long I wait.”
    I shook my head. I couldn’t seem to break the habit, even though he couldn’t see me. “No, I mean—you seem to have keen senses of smell and hearing, and maybe those developed after your accident,” I said. “Maybe your other senses have grown more acute as well. Maybe you have a better sense of direction. You seem to walk around the room well enough without running into furniture. Maybe you wouldn’t fly into trees, or come up on the ground too fast when you tried to land.”
    I had surprised him; the expression on his face was considering. “Maybe,” he said.
    â€œSo you should try to fly again.”
    A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “We seem to be missing an essential element,” he said. “An angel who can fly beside me and help me find my way.”
    â€œCouldn’t you invite one of your old friends to visit you here?”
    â€œI could, but I can’t think of one I would trust enough to guide me in a flight.”
    â€œWhy do you consider them your friends, then?”
    The question seemed to catch him off guard. “They are—they were—people with whom I shared certain experiences,”