Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
All three of them considered that for the moment.
Until at last, Jessamy took a deep breath and said, “It’s an intellectual curiosity, but it doesn’t give us the answer to our most pressing question, does it?” No shine on her face now, the tiredness returning.
“You have done well,” Raphael said gently, for he would always have time for this kindest of angels. “The entire Cadre has faith that if there was something else to find, you’d have found it.”
“Yeah, Jess, don’t beat yourself up about it. If Vivek’s right about why the Legion mark is on the cover—that it has to do with when they last rose—then all this happened waaaaaaay back in the past.”
“There’s a vacuum.” A tremble in Jessamy’s voice, her eyes unfocused. “I never before truly thought about it, but we don’t have the story of our origins. Those records were lost long ago.”
Elena looked from Jessamy to Raphael. “Um, we’re talking millions of years, right?” A faint smile on her face, she shook her head. “I don’t think any sentient species will ever know exactly where they came from—it just doesn’t work that way. We didn’t even know about the whole humanity-rising-after-angelkind-poisoned-itself bit until the Legion told us.”
“Angels have always kept excellent records,” Jessamy insisted.
“Unless angels appeared out of the ether fully formed, Jess, your”—she winced, corrected herself—“our species has origins. It just so happens that the angelic cave-painting period was so long ago that time has erased all signs of it. Either that, or the conspiracy theorists are right and angels are aliens who flew here from outer space.”
“We are not aliens,” Raphael said firmly. “This is our home—it is in our blood.” Every angel born knew that; it was difficult to explain, but there was a resonance in the blood that told them this was home ground. He’d have to ask his Elena if she felt the same. “Flying through space is painful.”
“Are you serious?” His consort’s mouth fell open. “Have you tried?”
“I was young and stupid once.” He shrugged. “A friend and I decided to see if we could fly to the moon.”
Jessamy made a squeaking sound. “Can I write a record of this?”
“No. I do not wish my stupidity immortalized. Especially as I was already an archangel at the time.” His face tensed. “It was Uram. We decided to attempt the flight together.” Never knowing that one day, Raphael would be his friend’s executioner.
Elena’s wing brushing his, his hunter giving him silent comfort.
He was different then, he said privately to Elena. A better man. A good friend.
I know. I’ve seen that man through your memories of him.
Out loud, he said, “Most angels beyond a certain point in development and age don’t really need to breathe. But it hurts if we don’t. Archangels need even less air than most, so Uram and I thought we should be able to fly in space. After all, we surely had the power to escape the planet’s gravitational pull.”
Jessamy, her eyes huge, leaned forward. “Did you?” A whisper.
Raphael nodded. “We survived fine in thin air. But in no air? It felt as if our lungs would destroy themselves. The physical pain was the worst I have ever felt—and I say that after having experienced much more since then. We could technically have made it to the moon, but we’d have been insane from the agony by then.”
Jessamy’s look was tortured. She picked up a pen. “Please, Rafe.” A rare slip into the name she’d called him as his teacher once upon a time. “Can I just—”
“No. Not even for you, Jessamy.”
As Jessamy dropped her face into her hands with a whimper, Elena mimed pushing her own jaw shut. “Just when I thought I knew all the wild things angels could do. Fly into space? Seriously.” She shook her head. “So, not aliens, then.”
“No, this is our home soil. We grew here.”
“And you’ve been here so long that you’ve got no origin story at all at this point,” Elena said. “No, wait, you have those Ancestors. Is that your origin story?”
“Ancestors are more myth than history.” Jessamy raised her head from her hands. “Trust me, Ellie, I’ve tried to track down more information about them, but it all circles back to childhood tales. Not a speck of actual history in any of it. I think they’re phantoms we created to fill the gap of our distant past.”
Raphael couldn’t disagree. “Keep searching,” he said to the Librarian. “For anything. We’ll do the same.”
“Wait.” Jessamy held up a hand. “Vivek mentioned a language program he could run the text through in the hope the machine will be able to unlock its secrets. I will speak to him if that’s acceptable?” This time, her tone was formal, the request of the Librarian to an archangel.
“Yes, he’s cleared to the highest levels.”
After Jessamy said goodbye, Galen came on to discuss security-related matters. Elena shot him a quick salute before slipping away to go meet her sisters. Raphael’s weapons-master and his consort would never be best friends, but they respected each other, which was what mattered.