Jovah's Angel (27 page)

Caleb nodded. He was still studying the ground, trying to find any visual clues that would reveal the location of the buried road. “Going to be hard to follow, though,” he said. “If you can't see it.”

Noah shrugged. “Follow the compass straight east to Breven.”

“Well, the road's going to curve now and then. Obstructions in the way. Natural human error. How will we know which way it's bending? We run off the road into the muck, we'll never tow the Beast out.”

Noah grinned. “Drive carefully,” he suggested. “Pay attention. You'll feel the front wheels drop off.”

“Going to slow us up some.”

“That's all right. We've made good time so far.”

So they swung the Beast back toward the road, since they'd overshot it by about ten yards, and continued their journey on the Jansai caravan route. The Beast's metal tires bit happily into the shattered stone of the roadway; this was, as Noah had guessed, the ideal terrain for the big vehicle. All three passengers could instantly sense the difference in the ride—not necessarily better or worse, Delilah commented later, but more consistent.

“At least you know what you're getting from bounce to bounce,” was the way she put it. “It lulls you into a sort of security.”

And, as Noah had said, the driver could immediately tell when his wheels had grazed the edge of the track. It was not easy, of course, to wrench the Beast back on course, but by the time they
came to a halt for the day, they'd never once completely left the road. Both drivers considered this a promising sign for the remainder of the trip.

There was yet another good omen: They'd arrived on the outskirts of a small town built at the juncture of the road and a minor river. No doubt it had enjoyed greater activity during Breven's more prosperous days, but still, it was a bright oasis of civilization for the three weary travelers.

“Look! I believe it must be Luminaux ahead!” Delilah called out in delight when they came close enough to make out the low stables and silos at the edge of town.

“Ysral itself could not be a more welcome sight,” Noah replied.

“They're going to bar the city gates against us if we pull up in this piece of junk,” Caleb said more practically. “You want to chance being mobbed, or shall we leave it a few miles away from town?”

“Take it with us,” Noah said. “Safer.”

Delilah laid her hand on his arm as if she were comforting a lunatic. She and the Edori were riding together in the back while Caleb took his shift as driver. “Noah—trust me—no one is going to steal your precious car. It will be safe no matter where we leave it.”

Caleb grinned. “No one could figure out how to run it,” he said. “I don't think it will be stolen.”

“Well, someone might throw rocks at it or break something,” Noah said defiantly. “I'd rather have it near.”

“Suits me,” Caleb said, and hauled the Beast to the left, leaving the road to head straight for the town.

Predictably, their arrival created quite a stir. Children were the first to come running up, shrieking and pointing, but the men were not far behind. The women mostly watched sensibly from the doorways and windows, calling out to their neighbors across the alleys, “Did you see that?” The travelers did not go very far down the main street that seemed to bisect the town, but pulled over at one of the first stables they saw and motioned an ostler over.

“Is there anywhere we could leave this for the night?” Caleb called over the rumble of the motor. “Not in the stable, of course, but maybe in back where it would be out of the way?”

“We'll pay you,” Noah added.

“What in Jovah's name is that damned thing?” the ostler demanded,
and variations of his question were repeated by everyone in the crowd that had gathered. “It smells like one of those factories over in the city. You riding in that?”

Obviously
, Caleb wanted to reply, but decided to be more diplomatic. “It's a self-propelled traveling vehicle,” he said. “We're taking it on a test run from Luminaux to Breven.”

“It sure is noisy,” the ostler remarked, but his words were drowned out by queries from the other watchers. “How does it run?” “How fast does it go?” “Can I take a ride?” “Dad, Dad, can I go for a ride in the propelled what's-it-called thing?”

Caleb glanced back at Noah, who was having a harder time communicating with the onlookers from the deep well of the passenger compartment. “You have a money-making opportunity here,” he said, but Noah merely grinned and climbed nimbly up and out of the car.

“Sure, we'll give rides to anyone who wants,” he said. “But kids can't ride unless their parents say so.”

“Is it safe?” a man called out.

Noah nodded. “We've been traveling three days now. Nothing's gone wrong. Nothing here to hurt you.”

“How fast does it go?”

“Top speed is about twenty miles an hour, but we've been averaging a little less than that.”

“How does it run?”

“Fuel and steam and a lot of moving parts.” Noah laughed.

“Can I really ride? Can I really ride?” a little boy called.

“Sure. If your mom or dad says so.”

“How much does it cost?”

Noah spread his hands. “Free!”

There was a sudden commotion as excited children and boyish men pressed forward at that invitation—and a silence just as sudden that caught Caleb and Noah by surprise. As one, they turned back to look at the Beast, and saw that Delilah had risen to her feet and was now visible to the crowd. With her wings folded behind her and her arms spread for balance, she seemed to be floating above the vehicle like an angel offering benediction. Surely no one had recognized her in those few moments, but there was something—the tilt of her head, the intensity of her gaze—that always had this effect on people, of bringing them, at least briefly, to a state of humility and awe.

“Jovah's bones!” one of the children exclaimed to his friend. “I'd have thought
she'd
be able to
fly
to Breven!”

The ensuing laughter broke the tension and opened up the flurry of questions again, though Noah glanced quickly at Delilah to see how she'd taken that unwitting remark. Unruffled, she held her hand out to Caleb, who helped her from the car.

“I don't believe I would enjoy the amusement rides as much as you and Noah might,” she said in the pleasantest voice imaginable. “Why don't I go see if I can find us accommodations for the night? Perhaps an inn that also serves hot meals? Then you can join me when you've quite had your fill of fun.”

“Blue Heron sets a nice table, and I know they've two empty rooms right now,” the ostler spoke up quickly. No doubt courting the innkeeper's daughter, Caleb thought, but even the worst bed tonight would seem kingly compared to blankets spread thinly over bumpy ground. Besides, they wanted this man's good will if they were to leave the Beast with him.

“Blue Heron,” he repeated. “And where would we find that?”

“Up this street to the first cross, then turn to your left, and it's the second building on your right.”

Caleb nodded at Delilah and she smiled back. He handed her a bag of coins and watched her make her way gracefully through the crowd. Or, more accurately, watched the crowd part for her as it might part for a mountain cat inexplicably come down from the heights to make its home among humans. Angels were apparently as rare here as self-propelled motorized vehicles, and even more open to suspicion.

Caleb was not crazy about the idea of spending the next few hours piloting the Beast around the outskirts of town while giggling children bounced in the back. But when he saw Noah's joyous expression, his sullenness dissipated. “You drive first,” he said to the Edori. “I'll organize the carloads. Let's keep the rides as brief as we can, shall we?”

Noah grinned. “Done in an hour,” he promised, and he climbed into the driver's seat and waved his first passengers aboard.

Of course, it was more like two hours before they were able to accommodate all those clamoring for a turn, even crowding four and five people at a time into the passengers' compartment. Caleb was thoroughly exhausted by the time they made their way to the Blue Heron, and famished as well. The innkeeper, a pleasant middle-aged woman who had heard all about the excitement from her
son but betrayed no interest in the event herself, gave them their room key and told them dinner would be ready whenever they wished.

“There's a bathing hut out back,” she said helpfully, running her eyes over their dusty clothes and soot-streaked faces. “Your friend seemed to think you might want to wash up before you had your dinner.”

“When did she say she wanted to eat?” Noah asked.

“Whenever you returned.”

“Then we'll bathe,” Noah decided. “Dinner in half an hour?” Caleb nodded.

It felt unbelievably good to get completely clean in heated water in a controlled environment, Caleb decided as, a few minutes later, he slid his head all the way under the water in the big metal bathing tub. A quick swim in icy river water or a halfhearted splashing in a shallow stream did little more than wash away the surface dirt, and he felt grimy right down to the bone. It was rare for an inn this small to offer such a luxury; the hot baths must be a service for the whole community. And a damned fine one. He came up for air, soaped his hair, and went under again. In the tub beside his, he heard Noah splashing with equal pleasure. It made him smile underwater.

Soon enough, they were dressed in clean clothes and joining Delilah in the tap room. There were maybe a dozen tables of varying sizes clustered together rather tightly in the low, dark room, and all but two were occupied. Delilah had selected one of the smaller tables in a shadowed corner. The two empty tables were at right angles to hers, as though no one had wanted to get too close to the angel—but everyone in the room glanced over at her repeatedly, in almost helpless fascination, and then quickly looked away.

“Well, don't you two look handsome,” was her greeting when Caleb and Noah seated themselves in chairs across from her. “I never dreamed either of you would clean up so nicely.”

“I was just thinking the same about you,” Caleb replied. “You must be showing off for the townsfolk. You never waste fresh clothes and a new hairstyle on us.”

Noah frowned at him, but Delilah laughed. “I've already ordered,” she informed them. “They only serve one meal every night, so I ordered three of everything and a pitcher of ale. I assumed that would be fine with everyone.”

“Perfect, if this is it,” Caleb said, watching a thin young
woman approach with a loaded tray. “I could eat the Beast itself, I'm so hungry.”

“Give you a stomachache,” Noah murmured, and they all laughed.

The meal was one of the best Caleb had ever eaten, though he was sure hunger and three days of road rations were the primary seasonings. Delilah was in the gayest of moods, flirtatious in a way that seemed entirely innocent—merely happy. She drank almost none of the ale, so her lightheartedness could not be put down to alcohol, and Caleb couldn't imagine that just taking a bath and eating a hot meal could lift anyone's spirits so much. But he wasn't complaining. As the candle on their table glowed with flame, Delilah glowed with charm, and the effect was just as cheering.

None of them had the energy to linger long over their wine (which Delilah ordered once the pitcher of ale had been emptied), so as soon as their meal was over they headed upstairs to the chambers the angel had bespoken. “I'm in the room right next to you, so come rescue me if you hear any trouble in the night.” She laughed as she unlocked her door. Both men solemnly promised to do so.

“I'm asleep on my feet,” Caleb said the instant they were inside their own room with the door closed. It was a small chamber, barely big enough for two narrow beds and a nightstand, but it seemed palatial to him. He stripped off his shirt and trousers and practically fell into bed. It took almost more strength than he had to wriggle his body under the covers. “Don't wake me tomorrow. Let me sleep till Jovah comes looking for me.”

“All right,” Noah said, blowing out the candle and crawling into his own bed. “But don't blame me if you wake tomorrow at noon and find that the Beast has crawled on to Breven without you.”

Caleb remembered laughing, and then he remembered nothing else. Sleep claimed him like a famished lover, and he went willingly into her jealous embrace. He'd been certain he would sleep through till noon, unmoving and oblivious, but something woke him a couple of hours later. He lay there a few moments, trying to recall where he was and then to reconstruct what might have disturbed him. But the streets outside were silent and his companion on the other side of the room slept soundlessly in his own bed.

Except…

Caleb rubbed his eyes, then looked again at the formless shape of quilts on the other bed. Moonlight filtered through the shuttered window and threw white bars across the floor, across the crumpled covers on the bed. No one was sleeping in it. Caleb sat up, said “Noah?” very softly, and then came to his feet. It only took three steps to cross the room, and he verified by touch what his eyes had already told him. The bed was empty.

And Noah could only be in the room next door, sleeping in the arms of the fallen Archangel. Bringing some salve to her wounded heart and cruelly wounding his own.

Caleb climbed back onto his mattress and turned his face to the wall, but it was quite a while before he closed his eyes again. In the morning, when he woke for the second time, Noah was in his own bed, sleeping the noiseless, guarded sleep of the Edori. Caleb lay there a long time, watching his friend's peaceful face, and wondered if he had dreamt the whole thing.