Chapter 26

Rhiannon would not, at that moment, have been Raphael, Sarah or Nuriel for all the worlds. It was not a pleasant feeling. Nuriel's hurt at being so completely excluded from what was obviously the focus of his son's life, and his anger at Sarah, his estranged mate, for raising Raphael the way she had, were evident in the Angel's eyes. Raphael, with his own rebellious spirit, was trapped in the middle and wracked with guilt at having chosen sides. And then there was Sarah. All of the secrets she had kept for so many years, and all of the sorrow that she had had to swallow alone as the result of her hidden rebellion were there on the table. Only Raphael had shared her burden, and now her secrets were out. The angels turned and looked at her, shocked at the full extent of her rebellion. She held her hands over her face for a moment, overwhelmed to be placed on the spot. She removed her hands and looked around the room for a moment. Her lip quivered and she tried to speak. “I didn't mean . . .” her voice broke and she stopped and swallowed, pressed her lips together, then started over.

“I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I wanted to tell you so many times.” She looked at Nuriel and it was a strange look that spoke volumes. Anger, regret, longing. Nuriel had never come close enough to admitting that the angels might be wrong for her to ever have dared to share her secret with him.

Sarah told them about her night flying, her curiosity, and the meeting between herself and Rhiannon's mother Sulamith. She explained to them Sulamith's plight and told them of the friendship that grew between them. “She was my best friend, and later she was my lover. She was the only person who understood the rebellious feelings that I had and what it was like to carry a child who had every likelihood of living a complicated, unhappy, lonely, life. She understood my guilt. And we were both guilty. I wondered so many times what my son would have in his life to live for. This,” she motioned vaguely to the dead city around them, “Is not a life. Rebellion was the only thing that I had to offer him. I couldn't promise him that he would grow up and have someone to hold at night, or that he would have his own children some day. I couldn't promise him anything but this pathetic existence. But I could share my secrets with him, and then at least his life would have some purpose.” Sarah went on to describe Sulamith and the abuse that she had suffered over the years at the hands of Rhiannon's uncle, Sulamith's own brother. Then, how she had felt landing one night on the tower roof to find Sulamith gone, never to return. She was silent for several minutes before picking up again. “After Sulamith died, Raphael and Rhiannon were all that I had left. Raphael and I kept Rhiannon safe as well as we could. There were times when we had to take turns guarding her house around the clock but more recently, up until seven weeks ago, things have been relatively quiet. When Raphael didn't check in I flew to Rhiannon's house in the other world. It had been burned and, because I couldn't find Raphael, I feared that they had both perished in the fire. I do not know what happened after that.”

Yuka spoke at this point, “I believe that I am informed enough to share the rest of the tale with these people, if that is what you would prefer?” She glanced from Raphael to Rhiannon and Rowan.

“Yes please do,” Raphael said to Yuka and she proceeded to fill in the blanks.

Rhiannon blocked out Yuka's words. She was still lost in Sarah's story. It had been one more disturbing angle of the tale that inevitably lead back to her. It didn't hurt any less. It was another layer. Another pair of sad eyes. To hear of Sarah flying to her mother at night, bringing news of the daughter she had been forced to abandon, that they had been lovers. This angel probably knew her mother better than anyone living. The mother Rhiannon would never know. Whose arms she would never feel. To hear Sarah tell of her mother's tears was yet another new and painful way to hurt. Rhiannon looked at Malik and then turned away from her own cruelty. She placed her hands over her belly as if to try to hold on to her own child, as yet, she knew, just a little bundle of cells, but still, just to comfort that little spirit.

When Yuka was finished there was another long silence, but eventually Nuriel looked up and spoke, “The time of the angels is over. We do not know better. I am your humble servant. I will not speak for the rest. You are free to do as you choose. If you seek leadership amongst us look to my son.” Then he directed his next words to Rhiannon, “I for one will do whatever you need of me. I am weary of feeling useless.”

“Thank you,” was all that Rhiannon had the strength for. Nausea was once again getting the better of her and she needed to lie down, at least for a little while.

Rowan came to her rescue. Always the hero. “Is there a place where Rhiannon can rest, and perhaps eat? I realize that there is much to talk about and little time, however it will be a waste if she passes out.”

“Yes of course,” Sarah said, rising from her seat. “Come with me. My house is close by. I will fix you something to eat. We've all forgotten that you've had to travel here the hard way.”

Sarah's house wasn't far but Rhiannon's stomach didn't make it and she knelt at the edge of the street over the gutter. Rowan picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. She let her head rest on his shoulder and half closed her eyes. Sarah's house was little, like a city town house, with a small kitchen and living room on the ground floor and two bedrooms upstairs. Following Sarah up, Rowan carried her and laid her down on a bed next to a large, winged, tabby cat where she let her eyes close the rest of the way and fell immediately into oblivion.

*

She wasn't sure how long she had slept or what it was that woke her. She suspected that it was the sunlight around the edges of the curtains on the west facing windows rather than the large warm rumbling mass curled against her stomach and chest. Something told her that the rumbling mass had been there for the entire nap. Rhiannon opened her eyes slowly. Sarah was just coming in with a tray. She placed it on the bedside table and pulled a chair over. Rhiannon pulled herself up to a sitting position, dislodging the big cat who ruffled his wings and flicked his ears as he found another prime spot to curl up pressed against Rhiannon's thigh. Rhiannon ran her hand along his back following his spine between his wings and he rumbled even louder.

“That's Grimble. He's the last of his kind too,” Sarah said, reaching for a thick folded blanket and placing it on Rhiannon's lap. “Here, the bowl's hot.” She placed a bowl of hot steaming, what smelled like potato celery, soup on the blanket and passed Rhiannon a spoon. “Hot soup was one of the few things I kept down when I was pregnant with Raphael.”

Rhiannon had to smile at the image of this beautiful angel with morning sickness. Rhiannon ate, grateful that the nausea had abated and grateful for plain hot food. “Have I been asleep long?”

“No, just long enough for me to prepare the food. You just needed a rest. It's normal and I'm guessing that rest is something you've not had the luxury of. Do you feel well enough to go back to the meeting hall?”

“I suppose I do,” Rhiannon smiled. “Although I'm not sure that I want to. I'd rather stay here with Grimble.” She scratched the cat's ears so that he turned his broad head and leaned into her hand.

“I must apologize for Nuriel. He has always believed that our ancestors were right, and I must apologize for myself as well for I have never had the courage to tell him of the things that I have seen and done. I knew in my heart that our ancestors were wrong but, I . . . well . . . I have no excuse. I told myself that everything I did for your mother absolved me of guilt, but my secret drove Nuriel and I apart and the more I tried to change him the more rigid he became. Because of the way I raised Raphael a rift grew between him and his father. I see now how wrong I was. Can you forgive me?” Sarah's lush violet eyes were full of regret.

Rhiannon kept her voice soft, “I keep telling this to people. There is nothing to forgive. Just promise me, no more secrets.”

Sarah nodded.

*

In the meeting hall the Angels were animated in a way that they had never been in their lives. Action was something that they had always been denied. They had lived their lives and gone about their days in the same routine for many generations and they had not been unhappy lives except for the last generation . . . and that is what they were, the last. As Raphael had said, there were only four angels under twenty-five and only one female amongst them, there had always been unrest. Malik had reacted by clinging to the old ways, Raphael was the rebel. Mikhail, who was between Raphael and Malik in age, loved Arariel, the only female, but she had shunned him and retreated from everything. She felt it would be unfair to raise children who would grow up alone with no one to love. That was if she was even able to have children, as so many of the angels in the generation before her's had been unable. For these four angels in particular, what was happening now was like the beginning of a new life.

Rhiannon was shocked by how changed they seemed when she entered the room. Rowan had returned to the meeting hall ahead of her and she smiled at him as she walked in and sat quietly beside him. “I like it when you smile,” he whispered in her ear and then searched for her hand under the table. It was such a small thing, but a wonderful thing to Rhiannon. Then Rowan told her more loudly, “It was wise of you to insist on bringing Yuka, by the way. She's a brilliant facilitator. Everything has been more or less decided with very little trauma. We can go home tomorrow and have a day to recuperate before we leave for the King's city. The angels will come. The younger ones anyway.”

The sense of anticipation in the room was palpable. The angels seemed as if they had been sitting quietly in the mountains, dormant, just waiting for a catalyst to spur them into action, and now they were all intensity and purpose. They were speaking excitedly about the things that they would do out in the world or, and this was from the older ones, how wonderful it would be to have people in the city again. To see new faces and share stories and knowledge. Nuriel approached Rhiannon and she stood. He spoke tentatively, “This will be the end of our secret. Do you think the world will hate us so very much for it?”

Rhiannon spoke gently, “You are coming into the world again, with the purpose of making things right. There will be too much wonder at that for hatred, I hope.”

Nuriel nodded silently.

“Have you ever considered that perhaps it was your secret that allowed the elves to spread? Did the angels never think it was that which has kept the elves strong all this time? There is power in naming things. Perhaps admitting that your ancestors made mistakes, perhaps telling this story will weaken the elves.”

“I don't know,” Nuriel admitted, “though both Sarah and Raphael have tried to convince me of it. I was always taught that the creation of the elves was our burden to bear and that it was not to be shared.” He paused. “I don't know what to think now, but for the first time in my life I am confused.” He smiled almost imperceptibly, “Perhaps it is a good thing, although I must admit that I am not used to it.”