Against medical advice, Uriel stood at the shore, the skin of his left side raw and warped. He didn’t say a single word as Delilah and Obie’s boats bobbed away on the current. When their boats went up in flame, he turned away. Fishing out a mostly empty bottle of ambrosia-infused whiskey, he took a long swallow, then staggered away from the water.
I didn’t reach for him when he passed me, knowing he’d reject the offer of comfort. He’d refused to see me every time I attempted to visit him in the hospital. Harriet, my old healer and Uriel’s current doctor, told me he was purposefully not healing from his burns.
“Survivor’s guilt, maybe,” she’d mused sadly. “Or maybe he’s still trying to find the will to live. It’s hard to say. Losing one Committed is bad enough, but two?”
The only reason he was alive was because of the medical care forced upon him. I had a feeling, if he’d had his way, he would have died alongside his Committeds. Living was harder than dying—I understood more than he knew.
As per Fallen custom, the loyal Fallen were burned on a pyre. In honor of their angelic heritage, the ashes were spread over the water in hopes the Maker would be merciful and welcome them home.
It was all very depressing. The pyre smoldered as the sun set, and I offered a final farewell to Belphegor, my friend and ally. I had a feeling he’d find Beau standing on the shore waiting for him. They might not have had their happy ending in this life, but I was confident they would in the next.
After all, death wasn’t an ending; it was simply the next step in the journey.
Within the last twenty-four hours, the main road of Utopia had been transformed. The doors of the bars, cafés, and restaurants lining the street stood open. Tables and chairs had been brought outside to allow the inhabitants of Utopia to mingle in the twilight.
If not for the morose atmosphere of grief, it would have looked like a festival. Ambrosia-infused drinks were in almost every hand, and sad music filtered through the air from a lone violinist. Condolences were passed around as Angel and Fallen socialized on Utopian soil for the first time in millennia.
After finding a free table, Gideon left to retrieve drinks, and Noel grabbed some hors d'oeuvres from a passing tray. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I nibbled on a grape as Gideon returned with hands full.
Gideon and Noel sipped at deep wine glasses full of red liquid. Jai gulped half of his frothy beer down before wiping the foam from his beard with the back of his hand. I stared at the tall glass of amber liquid Gideon had placed before me.
“Is this”—I sniffed at it—“beer?”
“We can switch if you don’t like it.” Noel offered me his wine.
“I’m underage,” I said stupidly.
They blinked at me.
“If you’re old enough to fight in a war, you’re old enough to drink,” Jai said gruffly, and Noel nodded.
I sent Gideon a dubious look, and he shrugged. “Age is just a number, Riley. And I think we all need a little liquid comfort right now.”
With another sniff, I took a hesitant sip. It tasted… different. But it warmed my belly as night settled around us.
“Gideon, may I have a moment?” Grace asked from behind us, and Noel stepped aside to allow space for her to join our table. She took the offered spot with a gracious nod, raising her glass of wine. “To our fallen dead,” she said solemnly.
“To our fallen dead.” We mumbled the stiff platitude before we all took a drink.
To Gideon, Grace said, “Thank you for all your organizational help these past few days. Things have been… difficult, to say the least.”
“Of course,” Gideon said. “I’m here to serve.”
A smile played at the councilwoman’s lips. “I’d hoped you’d say that. Decisions have been made, and the process of reformation has begun. I wanted to speak with you personally about certain developments that are on the horizon.”
“Developments?” Gideon asked as Jai, Noel, and I exchanged wary looks.
“The Archangel Council has officially been disbanded. It is an archaic and, should I say, unjust system, especially in this new day and age. We are pursuing a fairer and more democratic path.” She sipped at her drink, and we copied her, all eyes on Gideon as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I think that’s an excellent choice,” he said cautiously. “I have believed for some time that having one faction of angels presiding over the others was detrimental to the majority of our people.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m aware. It is why your name has been nominated to fill one of the Archangel seats on the new, elected council.”
Jai and Noel grinned, and pride swelled in my chest until I felt I might burst. Gideon looked rather ill, slack-jawed and pale.
“I b-beg your pardon?” he said, voice strained.
Placing a hand on his arm, she patted twice. “It is not an obligation, but a choice. Many believe in you, in what you stand for and”—Grace eyed each of us in turn—“who you stand for. Should you wish to help us rebuild our world into a more inclusive and just one, you would be welcomed. There are others vying for the position, and we will allow elections, so everyone can have their say and be represented. But I think you would do well, and I’m not the only one who believes it.”
Gideon swallowed once. Twice. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Think about it. Discuss it with your partners. Make sure it’s the right choice for all of you. But if I may be so bold, I hope you accept. It is time you take your rightful place with your people.” She squeezed his arm once before releasing him and stepping back. “You are a male of worth, Gideon, and I have hope for the future you could help usher forth.”
With that, she took her leave, disappearing into the crowd. Gideon stared after her, fingers drumming the tabletop. I covered one of his hands with mine, and he shook himself from his thoughts. He met my gaze.
“I don’t… why would they want me?” he asked, and I ignored the way Jai and Noel snorted and scoffed in exasperation.
“Because,” I said, “people look to you, even when you think they shouldn’t. They respect you. They see the way you stand for what’s right, even when it’s not easy.”
“You’d do so well,” Noel said.
“You’d do a lot of good for a lot of angels, especially the ones the Council has ignored for so long,” Jai added.
“You’d be amazing,” I said.
He shook his head. “Of all people, I shouldn’t be in charge. The choices I made—”
“Were made millennia ago.” I reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re not the same man you were. You’ve learned and grown. You’re older and wiser now.”
“Definitely older,” Jai teased.
“Maybe wiser.” Noel snickered.
With an eye roll, I drew his attention back to me. “I believe in you. I think the realms would be better off with you in that council room.”
“I’ll, uh, think about it, I guess,” Gideon said, exhaling in a rush. “It’s not something to be taken lightly.”
“Power never is,” I said.
A voice rose above the din, interrupting our conversation. Tracing the scars on Gideon’s neck, I gave him a look that said, this isn’t over. His responding smile was shy and beautiful, and he nodded. Our bond warmed.