Shadows in the Silence (17 page)

Cadan flashed a little, embarrassed smile. “I’ll see you two around.”

“Bye!” When he was gone, I turned to Will and gathered the hem of his shirt between my fingers, beaming up at him.

“Enough of that,” he grumbled at me, but the corner of his lips tried to pull into a laugh. “You’re such a…”

“A what?”

“A spy!”

“I wasn’t spying!”

“You were eavesdropping.” He narrowed his eyes and tried not to grin.

“Maybe I was. So what?”

He kissed me, hard at first, but he sighed against my lips and relaxed into a slow, gentle kiss. When we parted, he looked a little sad.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, searching his eyes for answers.

“I wish we didn’t have to leave again,” he confessed. “I wish we could just stay here and be happy.”

“Well, we wouldn’t get much done if we did that,” I said. “Think of the mission as a vacation. I’ll bet Arizona is hot this time of year.”

“Heat and cold don’t really feel like much to reapers.”

“And you’re a Debbie Downer,” I told him bitterly. “We’ll be back home in no time. The sooner we get all of this done, the sooner we can relax.”

He nodded, but it seemed halfhearted. “We should get packing.”

“Can’t forget my satellite dish. The aliens might have valuable info.”

He laughed. “Maybe they can tell us where the Pentalpha is.”

My smile faded a little bit. “Before we go, I wanted to write letters to the families who lost their kids that night.”

He gave me a gentle look. “Is that something humans do for each other in times of loss?”

“It can be,” I replied. “I just want to express how sad I am in a way that doesn’t involve shedding more blood. After losing my parents, Nathaniel, Landon, and Sabina, I’m feeling so much right now and I may be one of the few people who understands what these families are experiencing.”

“If you’re mailing them, I can put them into envelopes and stamp them,” he offered.

“That would be great.”

We went into the study and I pulled out a loose-leaf notebook, envelopes, stamps, and a pencil. Will sat in the chair opposite my seat at the desk and looked curiously at my notebook and pencil.

“Don’t you need cards?” he asked.

“Cards feel so generic and insincere,” I said. “I don’t want to say the same thing to each family.”

I spent a little while writing the letters. I shared my memories of my classmates to their parents, wrote how sorry I was, and how I wished that night had ended up differently. I paused in horror when I saw Will cramming the letters clumsily into their envelopes.

“What are you doing?” I snatched the paper out of his hands.

“I’m putting them into the envelopes, just like you asked,” he said.

“Fold them hot dog style so they fit.”

“Fold them—
what
?”

“What’s the matter with you? You’re folding them hamburger style, the short way, and they don’t fit like that.”

“What are you talking about?”

I took a piece of paper and folded it lengthwise. “Hot dog style, see? Looks like a hot dog.” I folded it crosswise. “And hamburger style. Looks like a hamburger.”

“It looks like a piece of paper.”

“And you look like an idiot. Just fold it this way and don’t cram the paper into the envelope.”

He shook his head and grinned as he carefully folded the letters the way I wanted him to. “You are so ridiculous.”

“I’m aware,” I replied. “I just want the letters to look neat, you know?”

“I do. Sorry I messed a couple up.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “What do you say we get to packing and drop these off in the mailbox on our way to the airport?”

“Sounds good.”

I finished the last letter and gathered all of the envelopes. “Well, that’s it,” I said, and took a deep breath. “Adventure time.”

“I REALLY HOPE THIS RELIC IS SOMEWHERE THAT’S air-conditioned,” I mumbled as I threw my duffle into the backseat of the pickup truck we’d rented.

Will rolled his eyes, smiling. “We’ll stop at a gas station on the way and get you a battery-powered fan.”

I made a pleased little noise of approval and hopped into the passenger seat. “You have to drive, though. I’m not taking on the responsibility of dodging armadillos on the highway.”

He rounded the front of the truck and got into the driver’s side. “I’m pretty certain there aren’t any armadillos in Arizona.”

“Why would you know that?” I asked him, looking at him like he had a third eye. “Armadillos should be in Arizona. And Michigan. They’re so cute.”

“You are so weird.”

“Just drive. No complaints.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

We headed east from the airport on the 202 loop and took the exit toward Apache Junction. We drove around downtown and the surrounding neighborhoods to try picking up any trace of the relic’s or its guardian’s energy. The town seemed entirely normal and we could sense no reapers, angelic or demonic, and certainly no relics. By the time the sun began to set, I’d already lost my patience.

“How certain was Ava that there was a relic here?” I asked Will, looking over at him.

“She might have only marked the largest nearby town.”

I groaned. “This is like looking for a needle in a haystack. or rather, a needle in a desert. Let’s head to the more rural areas.”

He glanced at the GPS on the dashboard. “How about we take 88 out of town and go north through the mountains toward Tortilla Flat?”

“Why not?” I rolled down my window and let in the fresh air. “The heat’s not too bad at night and the stars are incredible. It’s nice out here, huh?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Lots of sun during the day. Good place to hide a powerful relic. The sunlight makes this place more unpleasant for the demonic.”

I sighed. “Always the practical one. Do you ever enjoy something just to enjoy it? Besides root beer floats and playing music, I mean.”

“Not really.”

“If there is one thing I’ll teach you, it’s to enjoy the little things.”

He flashed me a beautiful smile. “We’ve still got a ways to go. Teach me now.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take that challenge. Roll down your window.”

He eyed me suspiciously, but lowered the window anyway. “And?”

“Stick your elbow out. Like this.” I propped my elbow on the door and hung my head out my open window. “Feel the warm wind in your hair? The dusty smell of the desert? There’s some good tunes on the radio. There’s no traffic or anything way out here. It’s a nice night, you know?”

He took a deep breath and let the wind catch his dark hair. He gazed up at the stars for a few moments and then he looked back at me. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a nice night.”

I smiled and closed my eyes, soaking in everything my senses could hold—and that was when my senses picked up something I didn’t expect. There was a hum of electricity on every inch of my exposed skin, much like the static on a television set.

“Will,” I said, watching all the tiny hairs on my arms rise straight into the air. “Will, turn off at the next road.”

Without question, he took the next right onto a narrow and rocky road. I gripped the door handle as the truck nearly bounced me out of my seat. The presence grew stronger the
longer we stayed on this road, as if whatever emitted the energy called to me. I was certain whatever I’d detected was a relic. There was too much power here for it not to be. I prayed that we’d found the Pentalpha.

It took a couple miles of rolling through the empty desert before the headlights shone on a trailer home that looked like it had been sitting in the dust for way too long. The roof sagged a bit and the handrail of its tiny porch was broken and hanging off. The worn and beaten front door hid behind a battered screen that swung on its hinges, and the windows were covered with a thick layer of dirt. Honestly, the place looked abandoned.

“It’s there,” I said to Will.

There was no visible driveway, so he pulled off the road in front of the trailer, driving over rocks and scrubby plants. His game face was on as he shut off the truck.

“Should we knock on the door?” I asked, unsure of how we would proceed.

“That doesn’t matter,” he replied. “The guardian already knows we’re here. Be prepared to fight just in case.”

I nodded but hoped we wouldn’t have to. As we climbed out of the truck, an angelic reaper appeared through the door of the trailer and stepped down the creaky stairs. Will moved ahead of me, approaching carefully. The reaper wore clothes much cleaner than the state of his house, and his hair was shorn close to his scalp. His eyes, a soft plum color that glowed a little bit in the darkness, studied us curiously. He
seemed to have concluded that Will was also angelic, but the way he rubbed the whiskers on his chin made me doubt he knew who I was.

“State your business,” he said, his voice carrying a light, unusual accent. “I don’t like people showing up at my door. And get rid of the girl. I don’t allow humans.”

“This is the Preliator,” Will announced, and the reaper’s eyes shot wide. “I am her Guardian. We’ve come to investigate the relic in your possession.”

He walked toward us, gaze locked on me, his steps slow and even. “Is it true? You are the Preliator? You’re very little.”

I chose to ignore that last addition. He seemed nervous, so I made an effort to appear friendly. I held out a hand for him to shake. “Hi. I’m Ellie.”

The reaper watched my open hand for a few moments, long enough to make things pretty awkward, and he gave Will an unsure look. When Will didn’t immediately break his arm, he took my hand and held it firmly. “It is an honor. I am your servant and my name is Icarus.”

I gave him a warm smile. “Great to meet you, Icarus. Can you show us to your relic, please?”

“Yes, yes,” he said. “Come on in.”

Will and I followed Icarus into the trailer. The interior was dark, with only a few sparse pieces of tattered furniture. The cabinets in the kitchen were broken and the carpet smelled thickly of mold. I didn’t want to seem rude
by covering my mouth and nose from the smell, but it was very difficult not to. Will, politely, gave no sign of discomfort, though his sense of smell had to be a hundred times stronger than mine. Icarus held a hand out, motioning for us to stand still, and he crossed the narrow living room to one of the windows. He pulled on the blinds cord and the floor between us slid apart with a mechanical hum, revealing a grated steel spiral staircase descending into a brightly lit shaft.

“That’s not what I expected,” I murmured to Will. He seemed unfazed by the secret passage, as if they appeared all the time in real life.

“What relic are you looking for?” Icarus asked as he returned to where we stood.

“It’s called the Pentalpha,” Will explained. “It’s extremely powerful and crafted by Gabriel herself. It has the ability to summon the Fallen.”

“Ah,” Icarus said. “One of your own creations, Preliator? I’m sorry I don’t recognize this word, but I’m happy to show you what I have. Perhaps you will know it when you see it.” He started down the stairs. “Follow me. All relic guardians have their own way of surviving and protecting their charges. The house above this facility is camouflage, more or less. People don’t usually come knocking, and if the demonic track me down, then they won’t find much. It also acts as a fallout shelter. You know, just in case. After World War Two, the fifties had me a little nervous about these humans and their affinity for explosives. So I upgraded when bomb
shelters were all the rage during the Cold War. Not that I’m paranoid. I’m careful. Just in case.”

I shot Will an uncomfortable look. “No, of course not. So you’ve been down here for sixty years?”

“Is that how long it’s been?” he asked. “I’ve had modifications done a few times. Be careful where you step and where you touch the walls. There are defensive devices triggered by touch.”

“This place is booby-trapped?” I asked, suddenly panicked.

“A bit,” he replied. “Yeah.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, making Will bump into me. “Why didn’t you say something? How do we get past them?”

“No worries,” Icarus said casually. “I deactivated them when I opened the doors. I have an ability to control metal and electrical devices. But you never know. I could have missed one, so be careful.”

I gulped. “Just in case?”

“Yeah.”

I bit my lip and decided to proceed at my own risk. Icarus seemed content navigating the booby-trapped staircase, so I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. We reached the bottom of the shaft and found a hallway made entirely of steel, which led to an enormous heavy door with an elaborate adornment of high-security locks. An angelic spell repelling the demonic was painted in red across the door and on the metal floor in front of it. I didn’t need to get close to smell
that the paint was actually blood—
fresh
blood.

“Have you ever had a breach by the demonic?” I asked Icarus.

“They’ve never gotten this far,” he replied. The locks clicked and buzzed and retracted, allowing the door to swing open. Beyond the door was another hallway, but this one looked like it belonged in an ordinary house. A runner stretched over the carpet and the hall opened up into a living area with leather couches and an insane number of books scattered around and stacked in leaning towers. Despite Icarus’s talents with metal, there weren’t many appliances to be seen.

“Do you live down here?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said. “I don’t get out much except to get food and anything else I need.”

“Couldn’t tell.”

“Such is the life of a guardian,” he mused. “Yours ought to know.”

I peeked over my shoulder at my hard-faced Guardian. “Will definitely doesn’t get out much unless I make him.”

Icarus led us into a bedroom. “When one has something precious, one tends to be unwilling to let it out of sight,” he said.

“I understand all too well,” Will replied.

Icarus gazed up at the ceiling, and a panel hissed free and slid to the side, allowing a metal safe to be drawn out of a dark space on a high-tech dumbwaiter of sorts. I marveled at all the strange devices Icarus had in here and wondered
how he managed before electricity was invented. I imagined he was pretty bored back then.

“You probably haven’t opened this up in a while,” I said. “I hope you remember the combination.”

“There is no combination,” the relic guardian replied and stared at the safe door. After a moment, mechanical things inside clicked and whirled and the door popped open, just as the locks on the passageway door sprang free. Icarus reached in and removed an object larger than I’d expected. It was a statue—not the Pentalpha ring.

I let out a tired breath of disappointment. “That’s not what we’re looking for.”

“No?” Icarus asked. “This is the idol of Pazuzu, capable of summoning the demon of that name. I’ve been protecting it for two hundred years.”

While the relic was incredibly powerful, strong enough to make me feel a little light-headed, it was definitely not the one we needed. “The relic we’re after can summon any demons, not just Pazuzu. It’s a ring, kind of.”

Icarus frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything like that. I wish I could help you.”

An awful, nauseating dread began to creep through my belly and the worst worries whispered in my head. We’d come so far to find this thing, but it was a dead end. I’d have to call Ava first thing in the morning to see if she had found anything. We had to find the Pentalpha before anyone else did. Everything depended on it.

A hand touched my shoulder. “Hey,” Will said gently. “Just because it isn’t here doesn’t mean we won’t find it. We still have to check in with Ava and Marcus, and there’s still Belgium. If we can’t find the Pentalpha, then we’ll find another way to evoke Azrael.”

“Belgium, you say?” Icarus asked. “It’s a very well-kept secret among the guardians that there is a supremely powerful relic hidden in Belgium, protected by the same guardian for nearly six hundred years. No one knows the guardian’s name. That’s how well-hidden he is.”

“That sounds promising,” I said, hoping to seem positive, even as doubt crept through my thoughts.

“We’ll head out in the morning,” Will said.

“Do you two have a place to stay?” Icarus asked. “You’re welcome in my house. I insist. This facility is a whole lot safer from the demonic than a motel.”

After all of the traveling and fighting I’d done in the last seventy-two hours, I was more than willing to crash on the first soft surface I found. “That would be great, Icarus. Thank you.”

He seemed pleased with that and returned the Pazuzu idol to its safe and hidden place in the ceiling. “I’ll show you to a room. There are a few bedrooms, but I rarely have guests, as you might imagine. I promise you’ll find the accommodations very comfortable. Are you hungry at all?”

“We should both eat,” I said.

Icarus’s plum eyes grew to a vibrant hue with excitement.
“I love to cook. I must have a hundred books on it. Since I don’t get to cook very often for others, let me make you this incredible dish I’ve been dying to try out….”