Angels of Darkness

superior talents—but instead I had found it comforting. There were days I had actually wondered what it must be like to live there and feel welcome, from time to time, to join the others in an impromptu concert.
    But I hadn’t stayed long enough to find out.
    â€œWell, it seems like the perfect place for you,” I said. “And you could find some nice young angel-seeker who’d fly with you whenever you wanted to leave.”
    â€œThat makes it an even more appealing notion,” he said dryly. “I’ll have to give it some consideration.”
    I pretended to laugh, but the truth was I felt a little sad. Not that I had ever expected this strange midnight relationship with the blinded angel to last more than week or two, but it was the most interesting, the most enjoyable interlude I had had in years. I would be sorry to see him go. Sorry to see my life return to its usual parameters of drudgery and defensiveness and worry.
    Well, at least I could cross worry off my list of activities. Among the gifts Corban had bestowed upon me was the knowledge that Reuel Harth was dead and the angels didn’t want to apprehend me for crimes against him. I could leave the Gabriel School, if I wanted. I could travel anywhere, look for any kind of work. I could live, as it seemed I had not for so long, in the light. It shouldn’t matter that an angel was unlikely to be beside me.
    Ridiculous to even entertain those thoughts. I gave my head a tiny shake and concentrated on the landscape below. “Do you know where you are?” I asked Corban.
    â€œI think so. Another few miles and then I turn to my right to find the mine.”
    â€œGood. I won’t say anything unless you ask for my help.”
    But he didn’t. He made the broad, easterly turn a bit earlier than I would have suggested, but soon enough, the road was within view again, and not long after that, we could hear the familiar clatter of the windmill. Corban spent a few moments circling the mine site, and I realized the percussion of the blades must sound slightly different from different vantage points, because he obviously was trying to orient himself according to their noise. But soon enough he had the cues he wanted, and he set off southward on a course perfectly parallel with the road.
    We were within a half mile of the house before he showed indecision. “By this point, I’ve usually been following your voice for ten minutes, so I haven’t needed other markers,” he said. “I know I’m close, but I can’t find the house without help.”
    â€œStill, I’m impressed by how you’ve managed so far,” I told him. “Just keep going in the same direction—drop a little lower—we’ll be there in a few moments.”
    It was clear that he found it much harder to judge his distance to the roof when I was in his arms than when I was on the surface and he was navigating by the sound of my voice. He came down harder than either of us expected, and almost tripped on one of the pipes, so there was a dizzy moment of both of us stumbling and trying to catch our balance before we finally came to a complete halt.
    â€œ Definitely a good idea to install chimes,” I said breathlessly. “Maybe string them around the whole perimeter so you know exactly where you can land.”
    â€œSomething to work on for another day,” he said. “So did you like it? Wasn’t it magnificent?”
    â€œIt was amazing,” I said. “I can’t imagine an experience to compare. You must have missed flying very much.”
    â€œMore than I realized. To think I’ve gone two years without it—” He shook his head and then spoke in a deeper tone. “And I have you to thank for making it seem possible again.”
    Oh, no; I still was not interested in the angel’s earnest gratitude. Heartfelt has always been a word that made me shudder. “And to think, I was only trying to irritate you by insisting you should try to fly,” I said lightly. “I wonder if I’ve done this much good all the other times I was being difficult and annoying.”
    He laughed, but I could see a look of puzzlement on his face. Or maybe it was speculation. Why does Moriah always turn the subject when I try to be serious? “I doubt it,” he said. “You’re annoying so often. The odds aren’t in your favor.”
    Now it was my turn to laugh.