Redeemed by Rubies (A Dance with Destiny Book 6) (28 page)

“Aww, come on.” He pretended to pout. “You’re not still sore at me over that whole
trial thing
, are you? I mean… you exacted your pound of flesh in return.”

Vareilious laughed. “Yeah. He couldn’t even spread his wings for over a week without moaning and groaning.”

“He deserved it.” Jenevier put a check beside his name on the list. “You
bit
me.” She looked back up at him. “Twice.”

Valen only winked in response.

Jenevier sighed. “Okay, Valen will take care of the entrance to Vanahirdem. Michael will go to Earth. And… Duhrias will take care of the portal here on Jinn. Does that about cover it?”

“Umm…”

Jenevier looked up at Duhrias when he started to speak. “Problem?”

“I can’t make the stones glow. Remember? They only respond to Angel blood.”

“Oh yeah. That’s right.” She glanced around. “Then take Lala. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it? I mean, she’s definitely got Angel blood in her. You think you can do it, Lala? You think you can make the stones glow?”

“Yes, Obaasan. I will try my best.”

“The Urimtheim should respond to her presence,” Munenori said, eyeing the girl. “I’m all but certain of it.”

“Okay then, that makes…” Jenevier counted up the names and accompanying Dragon scales. “Thirty? But I thought…” She looked back into the basket. “…Still two scales.”

“You forgot layer ten,” Gabriel said softly.

“Oh, yeah… layer ten.” She furrowed her brow. “I’ve often wondered about layer ten. That’s the
one
place I have never been summonsed.”

“And you never will be,” Michael said. “Arcadia will never have need of a Death Angel.”

“…Arcadia,” she whispered. “I didn’t even know that’s what it was called.”

Gabriel and Raphael exchanged glances.

“Then that makes us one person short,” Tenshi said.

Jenevier looked down at the remaining scales, then back up to her kinsmen.

“Do ye want me tae go get Vinika, Lass? It’ll be nae trouble. She’d be happy tae help.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Vittor—”

“What about the dark Elf you were talking about meeting in Mangladune?” Apollyon said. “Did you not say
he
could make the stones glow?”

“Baytac.” She smiled. “Yeah, he can do it.”

“Then
he
should be responsible for Ashgard,” Daichi said.

“Very well, then.” She marked through her name yet again. “I will instruct Baytac what to do within the cave on Ashgard… then
I
will take these remaining scales to Arcadia,” she said, picking them up.

“That will not be possible,” Michael said.

Raphael and Gabriel glanced at each other again, yet didn’t speak.

“Wh… Why not?” Jenevier half whispered.

“As I told you,” Michael said. “No Death Angels allowed on Arcadia.”

“Hmpft.” Jenevier smiled to herself. “When I became Death… this vast universe shrank, almost immeasurably so.” She tried then to block out all those painfully happy memories of the past now racing through her mind. “I can scarce even remember the last time I went to Lyra, not to mention Byzantha.”

“That’s because the first and second layers are not made up of the type of creatures who choose to war,” Gabriel softly said. “Those realms are ancient—disputes long settled. They have need for the occasional intervention, yes. But not the need for Death.”

“Aye, he speaks true,” Vittorio said. “An’ what help they
do
need, we Guardians see tae it.”

She gazed down at the Dragon scales in her tiny hands, not truly seeing them. “Death is an unwelcome mistress, and justly so.” She bit her bottom lip. “In truth, if I did not
live
upon Jinn… I would never see this realm, either.”

“Jinn claims a bloody past as well,” Munenori said. “But since you cleansed this realm of the evil that inhabited it at your arrival… Jinn now mirrors paradise.”

“…Yes,” she barely whispered. “Yet, my existence revolves around all things
not
glorious and beautiful.” Jenevier unconsciously wiped at her tear-stained cheeks. “I only ever get to return to Val Hal to attend funerals… say farewells.”

“Look at it this way,” Raphael said, smiling. “You
accidentally
fixed all the problems plaguing the places you once called home—Ashgard, Val Hal, Jinn. You even managed to rid Spadroon of Shabriri and his constant darkness… and you didn’t even have to
live
there to do it.”

Jenevier snorted out a half laugh.

“Yeah,” Jophiel said. “Perhaps you could buy a summer home on Pretoria, a holiday hide-a-way on Dimthe Leard, and then build a secret castle on Earth… another half century from now, we’ll
all
be out of a job. Lounging on your balcony, sipping rose tea, and talking about the good old days when we used to war with evil.”

Jenevier looked up at the normally smirking Angel, and smiled. He sent her a comforting wink in return.

“Since you cannot go to Arcadia,” Michael said softly. “
You
go to Earth. I will see to the tenth layer.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Fine by me.” Jenevier winked at Duhrias then. “I already know where
that
cave is. Easy peasy.”

*****

“And that’s all you do, Baytac.” Jenevier smiled. “Simple. Right?”

He raised a single brow, hesitantly. “So… I just step into the light, turn around, then simultaneously place a scale on either side of the doorway I just walked through?”

“Yep. That’s pretty much it in a nutshell. Oh, but we need to sort of do it all at the same time.”

“And just how am I gonna know
that
, Naga?”

“We’ll count to a hundred.” She smiled happily. “We’ll start together, but then I gotta go. You just keep on counting at the same pace. When you reach a hundred—boom… your scales should be touching the walls. Got it?”

The dark Elf’s brow was still furrowed in doubt, but he nodded his head.

“Good.” Jenevier clapped her hands together. “Now, let’s get this party started.” She held up one finger. “One… Two…”

When she made it to three, Baytac joined her. She began to back away from him, still counting.

“Five… Six… Seven…”

She burst through the clouds over Jinn. Lala let out a squeal when her Obaasan suddenly appeared before them.

“Eleven… Twelve…” she was saying, in the same rhythm. “We go on one hundred. Fourteen… Fifteen…”

Jenevier transported to the field just outside her palace.

“Seventeen… Eighteen… We’re a go at one hundred, gentlemen. Twenty-one… Twenty-two…”

Then, she was gone.

“Seriously?” Jophiel turned to Uriel. “We are seriously
counting
to a hundred?”

Uriel shrugged his shoulders. “Their minds aren’t connected.” He smiled. “Not everyone is lucky enough to be an Arch.”

Chapter 18

Michael

(mick-ELL)

Jenevier smiled before setting her cup down.

“Michael, Brother… join me.” She motioned to the seat immediately left of her. “Would you like some tea?”

“Kagi Naga.” He chuckled. “I am surprised you would ask. Yes, little sister, I would love some.”

Jenevier poured, but did not serve him, did not dare accidentally look upon him.

“And why do you offer me
this
seat, Kagi Naga? Do you wish me ever near you?”

She snorted. “Not hardly. I asked you to sit at my left because that is my blindside.”

“Your blindside?’

She nodded and took another sip. “Yes. Because of my part…” She lightly touched her head. “…my curls hang fuller on that side. Unless I tuck my hair back behind my ears, I cannot see the person to my immediate left. Jophiel knows this, thus why he always tries to stand there. Just to harass me, touch me, startle me.”

“Is such a thing not a hindrance in battle? Having a blind spot?”

Jenevier smiled. “I bind my curls before battle, Milord.”

“I see. Well met, little one. Oh, and Jophiel can be a jerk sometimes.”

“Tell me about it.” She chuckled softly. “But… I love the smirking old Seraph, anyway.”

Michael studied her smiling profile. “Tell me, Kagi Naga. How did you know I neared? I have suppressed my essence for your comfort, and I was careful not to make a sound.”

“Neither one of those things could hide you from me, Brother.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Your scent.” She smiled again, almost turned to him. “I smelled you before you even entered.”

“Truly?” he said through a smile. “Tell me, Kagi Naga. What do I smell like?”

“You smell… like rain.”

“Rain?” He chuckled then.

“Yes, but not the spring rains. You smell like the heavy rains in autumn. The ones that fall after the trees have shed their leaves and the flowers their glory.” She smiled softly. “I like it. It reminds me of my childhood—campfires, hot cider, snuggly warm jackets… laughing with my friends, listening to folktales… getting scolded for tracking mud indoors.”

“Your words make my heart swell, little sister.” He reached for one of her curls. “I like the way you smell, too. I visited a place—many eons ago. It no longer is. But there was a garden there—manmade. It had hanging plants, flowering trees, little trickling waterfalls converging and then disappearing into a bamboo thicket. Fairy moss grew atop the moist stones and sugar cane had been planted… encircling it all about. So many enchanting, sweet smells all mingled together. When I first approached you on Ashgard, the memory of that place was made fresh in my mind.”

“I am honored, Brother… and humbled.” She blinked away the beginnings of happy tears. “I wish I could have seen such a place for myself. It sounds amazing.”

“You have but to look in a mirror, Kagi Naga. You are the very embodiment of that little garden.” He inhaled deeply. “By sight, and by scent as well.”

She blushed.

After the teapot was well and dry, Jenevier sighed.

“Ahh, Michael. What brings you to my home on such a beautiful day as this? The veils are fully restored, are they not?”

“They are, yes. Yet… my thoughts are plagued.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Things went rather smoothly. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. “I was thankful. Normally, I end a quest with a new scar or two. Not so this time.”

“No, not so this time.” He smiled. “Jophiel was the only one to walk away with telling marks upon him.”

Jenevier bit her bottom lip. “Yeah… I should not have done that. It’s just… Ugh! When I saw him lunge for my Senpai, I lost it.”

“Yes.” Michael nodded. “You are… volatile.”

“Yeah.” She snorted. “I
can
be.”

“And what of your amethyst shackle? Any news or revelations on that front?”

She shook her head. “It remains a mystery.”

“Thus my troubled mind,” he mumbled. “When you come to know me better, Kagi Naga, you will find that skepticism and wariness can rule me. When I get a bothersome thorn… I tend to dig at it.”

Jenevier didn’t respond, only waited.

“Your exaggerated ability with scents… the Guardians taught you thus. Am I correct?”

She nodded. “And taste as well.” She smiled warmly. “The things my loving brothers gifted me with in Vanahirdem… they mark me to this day.”

“Yes… I suppose they do.” He paused a moment before continuing. “And the mask Father blessed you with during your Pyrolysis; it was an awesome gift as well.”

“Awesome and terrifying, yes. Vashti…” She chuckled softly. “My mask was as deadly as it was beautiful.”

“Yes. Yet…
you
are deadlier still.”

“I suppose so.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Comes with the job title, I guess.”

The silent spurts now falling between them was causing Jenevier to become restless and twitchy. Michael was worried—trying to cipher something out. His mood had her more than just a bit on edge. Michael suddenly stood and walked to the balcony railing.

Jenevier gasped. “I can see your back.”

When Michael turned to face her, Jenevier immediately closed her eyes. He sighed, then glanced back out at the lavender.

When the silence had gone on for far too long, she decided to try her best to ease the Archangel’s angst. It took her another few heartbeats to build up her courage.

“Michael?”

When he turned toward her, Jenevier had her eyes closed and her hands extended toward him.

“Will you come… sit here in front of me?” She patted her foot in front of her chair. “Turn around and sit here… between my knees.”

He smiled as he gently took her hand and obeyed her simple request.

“Are you going to slice my throat?”

She chuckled. “No, Brother. I save such as that for Jophiel and Uriel. No… I wanted to braid your hair. May I? Varick said it always relaxed him better than anything else in the universe.”

“Was Varick the only one to tell you such?”

“…No.” She bit her lip. “I have woven many lovely tresses in my life. Long hair—it is my weakness. I was happy to see that yours flowed down your back.”

“Have you ever plaited Raphael’s?”

“No. His is a bit short for a braid—only shoulder length.” She smiled. “I love his hair, though. It is soft and wavy. He used to let me run my fingers through it while we sat amongst the lavender. Back before I was all Angel.”

“But, not anymore?”

“We just… never make the time.”

“Mmm… That feels nice, Kagi Naga. No one has ever offered to do this before.” He smiled. “I agree with Varick. It is soothing… peaceful.”

She chuckled. “No one can resist it. Man, woman, Angel, or Guardian… everyone enjoys having their hair brushed.” She lightly kissed the top of his head. “Your braid will hang full and thick. It will be gorgeous. Almost as glorious as your golden wings.”

“Did you do this with Apollyon?”

Jenevier swallowed hard. “No. I brushed his hair, yes. But his is much like Raphael’s—a bit short. I braided Ahriman’s though,” she whispered. “His hair… it is truly breathtaking.”

“He was built for temptation.”

“Yes… and he is very good at his job.”

“When you remove his head… you should cut his hair off and keep it.”

Jenevier laughed. “You are morbid, Brother.” She lightly bumped him with her knees. “But… I must say, the thought
is
tempting.”

Michael chuckled softly.

“I have had the honor of doing this same thing with many great men… all whom I loved. Varick, Vittorio, Brodder, Munenori, Finnean—beautiful men, all.” She smiled. “My Senpai’s braid hangs nearly to the ground. But my Yui, ahh… that glorious ninja puts all others to shame. He is the rarest creature on this layer.”

“Do not sell the Emperor short, Kagi Naga. He is the rarest creature on many layers.”

“Yes, ‘tis true.” She tied a silver cord around his hair. “There you go, Milord. A splendid credit to your regal crown.”

“You are… my favorite Angel,” he whispered.

Jenevier kissed the top of his head again before he stood. “Spread your wings so that I may behold the glory of heaven.”

When his golden wings expanded, framing the newly woven braid down the center of his back, Jenevier’s eyes filled with tears.

“You are beautiful, Michael. Truly magnificent.”

“Alas…” he said softly, almost whispering. “You will never trust me as you do my brothers. It cannot be helped. We tend to
trust
, or mistrust, what our eyes behold. Me… I am as a void to you—your blind spot.”

“This is true, yes. Yet, I was gifted with blindness once before, Brother.” She swallowed hard. “The word trust… it never meant more than it did during those dark days. Perhaps because of my blindness, I now trust Vittorio over any other creature I have ever known. And… because of my learned comfort—living in such darkness—I could not actually
see
Shabriri.” She smiled. “Thusly, I was blessed with courage I did not truly possess… a fire I didn’t even realize I was capable of. Sometimes, having a
blind spot
can be a good thing.”

“Perhaps…”

Again, the uncomfortable silence returned.

“You’re worried about Ahriman, aren’t you?” she finally whispered.

“You can handle Ahriman, minus my worry and concern. No… I am more worried about his treachery than his might. The webs that silver devil can spin… they are tricky, to be sure. Tricky…
and
deadly.” Michael blew out a long sigh. “The whole bit with the
thinning
—how it all played out…” He paused.

“You think it was part of a grander scheme?”

“Perhaps. I mean… why did it just
stop
? Whatever, or whomever, was draining the magic… why did it stop?” He let out another sigh as he leaned against the balcony railing. “Such beauty here,” he said softly.

Jenevier kept her gaze fixed on his broad back and flowing braid.

“This whole layer is magical looking,” he whispered. “I have always thought so.”

When he turned back to face her, Jenevier quickly closed her eyes.

“It makes me sad,” he said.

“What does?”

He gently took her hand, guiding her to stand. “That I will never get to gaze into those magical pink eyes Uriel is always going on about.”

“Uriel?”

“I told you, did I not? He was enamored with you while you were yet young. He knew there was something different about you… something special. His obsessive curiosity with you about drove the lot of us mad. He loves you too much… and he always has.”

“We fight all the time.”

Michael chuckled. “Yes, you do.”

“He tries to bully me.”

“Yes, it is his way. Yet, he protects you from Jophiel… more than you even realize.”

When Jenevier didn’t respond, Michael gently took her hand and placed it to his brow.

“
See
me, Kagi Naga. I want you to see me with your mind. I
need
you to trust me. Trust me the way you trust Vittorio. Trust me to guide you into the unknown.”

“But… why?” she whispered.

“Because, little sister… when the darkness comes, I need you to trust that I can lead you safely through it.”

She timidly ran her fingers along the mighty Arch’s brow line, down the edges of his sculpted jaw, and then traced the outline of his smiling lips.

“You do favor Gabriel,” she whispered, as she gently ran her finger down over the bridge of his sharp nose. “And I love the fact that you are painted golden. You sparkle, Brother. Yet… your hair is much thicker… coarser than Gabriel’s.”

“Yes,” Michael said, smiling. “And that is because I have a man’s hair. My refined-acting brother has the silky locks of a young girl.”

Jenevier couldn’t help but giggle.

Michael waited patiently, until she seemed satisfied with her tender exploration.

“Are you more comfortable with me now, Kagi Naga?”

“Perhaps a bit. In truth, my comfort with you has grown exponentially during this lovely, unexpected visit.” She turned toward the lavender and opened her eyes. “Alas, the
look
of you is not what causes my unease.”

“It is the
feel
of me… of my power.”

Jenevier nodded. “I’m not the scared little girl I once was. I haven’t been
her
for many years now.” She took a deep breath. “But when I felt your… spiritual pressure.” She sort of snorted. “I felt true, raw fear. It was suffocating.”

“Apologies, little one.”