Chapter 26

It happened just four days later. Sulamith was asleep, Sheila was at the garden centre clearing out the office, and it was one of those long, hot, still, summer evenings that you can feel clinging to your skin. It was Friday night and neither Evan nor I had anywhere to be the next day, so we were sitting in the grass in the back garden, enjoying the quiet, the warm air and the night scented blossoms, just talking and making-out a little, when something caught our eyes high in the oak tree at the back of the lot. Then we heard the leaves rustle and something started to flash in the last rays of the setting sun. Crimson and gold. Then a voice, a rich resonant voice, “Aw shit! Crap-olla.”

Evan looked at me and whispered, “Crapolla?”

I shook my head and said one word, “Raphael.”

We sat and waited to see if the angel would come out of the tree on his own but after a few minutes, he was still up there. “Does he think that we don't know he's there?” Evan asked me in a low voice.

“This is Raphael we're talking about. He can be . . . a bit . . . different. Who knows what's going through his mind,” I said.

“Raph?” I called out. “We know you're up there. You're molting all over the yard.” I turned to Evan and whispered, “He really hates it when I tell him he's molting.”

And sure enough, Raphael came crashing to the ground.

I'll be honest. I wasn't prepared to see Raphael. Telling Evan about the things that had happened to me had been hard enough, but there was something so immediate about Raphael—there still is, there always will be—and that day it brought the past too close for comfort, and I couldn't help but remember that the last time I'd seen Raphael I had been naked and in his arms. Seeing him also sent a shot of apprehension through me because there was always a chance that Raphael was there because he thought that Sulamith and I needed protection, and that thought set my heart pounding. But if he was only curious . . . ? I'd asked to be left alone, but did I have a right to keep him away? I had just started to feel like the collection of broken pieces I'd been gathering up for the past three years would fit together to make a whole and functioning heart. I had them all in one place, and I could see where they fit, but having Raphael there in front of me opened parts of me that I'd thought were gone, not just closed off.

“I'm not molting. You know that. Angels don't molt,” he said with a toss of his head that was oddly calculated, yet nonchalant.

Evan and I stood. I looked Raphael up and down. He was wearing factory distressed dark blue jeans, a pair of skater sneakers, and a T-shirt with 'These aren't the droids you're looking for' written across the front. His golden hair was a little on the long side, but tousled to angelic perfection. His face, like mine, was older now, refined, with layers of history in his eyes, and, as always, a longsword hung at his side. “Well if you're not here to molt, what are you doing? I asked not to be followed,” I said to him.

“Rhiannon?” he said, sounding uncertain and maybe a little hurt, and my old name on his lips carried with it the echoes of another life.

Our eyes met and I endured his golden gaze for a moment before looking down, but that didn't feel right either, so I looked back into his eyes, “Just . . . Call me Krista, okay. I don't go by . . . that name . . . anymore,” I said softly to him. I held his gaze and this time it was he who looked away, turning to Evan, and I watched as Raphael sized him up. Evan to his credit stood straight and didn't look away. “Raph, I think you remember Evan. Evan, this is Raphael,” I said into the heavy summer night.

“Water Fay,” Raphael commented. “Reminds me of Lugh.”

“I guess he is a little like Lugh,” I said, irked by the comparison to my father and added, “But only superficially. Underneath they're completely different.”

I could see Evan's irritation as well as he stood next to me. He took my hand then said to Raphael, “We still don't know why you're here.” His tone wasn't hostile, just serious.

Raphael sighed, “Fenna . . . She went to visit her parents a few weeks ago and she saw you, by the lake. She was so upset. She just wanted me to see if you were alright. I caved and told her I'd check on you. We've all . . . missed you. Nobody blamed you for leaving after everything that happened. It's just that for some of us, we have a sore spot in our hearts around the place where you used to be. I don't want to be shut out anymore. I just . . . need to know how you are.”

He looked directly into my eyes again and I could see that old strange love there still, and I couldn't deny my own love for him. I turned and buried my face against Evan's chest for a moment and let the steadiness of his heartbeat remind me that I was safe now. I felt his hands on my back silently reassuring me, then I relented and turned back to Raphael, “I'm getting better. Every day I'm a little less fragile. I'm not all the way there, but I'm beginning to feel like maybe someday I might be. There are some things that I'm not really prepared to face yet, but sometimes I think about facing them, and it isn't so hard.”

Raphael nodded, “It's just, good to see your face and . . . hear your voice.” A tear trickled down his cheek.

“Oh Raphael!” I breathed, and flung my arms around him and his massive arms and wings closed around me and he pressed his mouth to the top of my head. We stayed like that for several heartbeats before I pulled away. He loosened his grip and I turned and ran into the house to try to catch my breath and get my composure back. I'd gotten to a point where, if I could keep from crying then I didn't have to try to stop, and stopping was still so much harder. I took a few deep breaths and pressed the heals of my hands into my eyes. I was standing near the screen door and I heard Evan say to Raphael, “I'll just give her a couple of minutes.”

“It's fine. Just let her be. It's okay if she doesn't come back out,” Raphael answered.

I peeked around the door frame and looked at Evan and Raph standing there talking and the scene would have almost have looked normal if it weren't for Raphael's wings. Strange, but I was pretty sure that they were wearing the same jeans, although Evan's feet were bare and he was was wearing a good celadon linen button up shirt that was hanging unbuttoned and untucked in the heat, showing his lean swimmer's muscles, which completely changed the look. He wasn't that much shorter than Raphael, but I was used to Evan being the tallest person in the room. Raphael, for all his quirkiness, was pretty easy company, as long as I wasn't there setting him off, and while there was definitely a 'worlds colliding' feel to the image of Evan and Raph standing there chatting comfortably in the garden, it made it easier to go back out. I smoothed my hands over the old red India cotton sundress that used to be Sheila's then headed back out.

Evan looked at me, concerned, “You okay?” he asked, rubbing the back of my arm.

I looked up at him, smiled hesitantly and took his hand. “I think so,” I said, then took a deep breath and asked Raphael, “Tell me, since you're here . . . How is everybody?”

I wasn't sure that I wanted to know, or maybe I was afraid of what I might hear, or that hearing might hurt. But it was like going to see Legend that day with Evan two years ago. I had to try.

Raphael's beautiful face softened as he looked at me and he motioned to the porch, “Let's sit,” he said and lowered himself into a slouchy wicker chair. He tucked his feet up and neatly ordered his wings with an unconscious grace that had always fascinated me. I sat on the loveseat next to Evan, looked at Raphael, and waited for his answer. I must have looked pretty worried because he said, in the most reassuring tone I'd ever heard from him, “It's all okay. Honestly. Everybody is fine. There's nothing happening that you need to worry about.”

I smiled and nodded, not feeling very sure of myself but appreciating his reassurance all the same.

He sighed, “After the war ended I don't think that anyone realized as fully as they should have how much things still needed to change but, when you walked out on us it sent a huge message.” I watched Raphael's face as his mind fell back in time those two and a half years, to the night I ran away. Emotions flitted across his face. He looked at me for a moment before going on and he smiled a smile that was both sad and amused, wry and self-deprecating. “Leaving was the best thing you could have done,” he said shaking his head. “Even at the time I knew it but . . . that night when Nimue snuck into my room through the window, shook me awake and told me you had run, was probably one of the hardest nights of my life. Definitely up there with believing you had died in the house fire. Nimue, Liam and I left that night and went to Gwydion's house in the city. We didn't know where else to go, or exactly what to do. Neither Nimue or Liam wanted the burden of monarch. They had committed themselves to one another and, without you there, they were the obvious next in line. Together they would have had the support of the people. They were the children of the revolutionaries who had conceived you. It would have been fitting in a way, but they had grown up with the pressure of knowing that some day they would be forced to live lives of obligation and responsibility and they didn't want it for themselves. Liam had already had a taste of it, and Nimue was already pregnant and she certainly didn't want it for their child, so their only real choice was to head up another revolution. It was wise of you to leave that letter with her, and the circlet. The morning after you left she stood on a platform in the centre of the market square in the city, with Liam there beside her, and me as her body guard, holding your circlet in her hand, and she read your letter out to the people and told them how much your wishes meant to her. There were riots. Liam and Nimue escaped to Fiannasmere. We did everything we could to uphold your wishes and eventually things turned around. Even the most staunch traditionalists couldn't look at what had happened to your life and see the validity of maintaining a royal family. It's meant changes, mostly good, but change can be hard too . . .” Raphael shrugged. “But closer to home, Thaylum ended up running in the election. He's the head of the new council. He and White Feather have two more children. Brian is Captain of the army. My parents patched things up, had another baby. She'll be the last though. For a year after things settled down I flew. I searched for leagues and asked the people I encountered on my journey if they had seen any angels,” he shook his head with finality. “The angels are gone.” He flexed his wings as if the thought made him uncomfortable. “But interestingly, so are the humans. I couldn't find any full blooded humans anywhere outside of Nova Britannia. So I flew home but I couldn't settle anywhere. The place is rife with bad memories. I spent some time with Liam and Nimue at Fiannasmere, they live there permanently and they're very happy there, but I got bored. I was pretty restless and I ended up at the Broad River stronghold.” Raphael stopped abruptly and gave me a conflicted look then blushed.

I had never seen Raphael blush before but I'd heard, earlier, the tone in his voice when he'd explained what he was doing in my garden. I'd heard the name he'd spoken and the softness in his voice when he'd spoken it. “Fenna.” He wouldn't risk my anger for just anyone, but if he'd fallen in love . . .? If someone who he couldn't say no to had asked him to find out how I was . . . ? I put two and two together so fast that I had Raphael blushing even harder. “That's where you met Fenna isn't it? You're in love with her aren't you,” I said smiling.

He smiled and looked up and away from my face and, trying to quell the urge to grin like a complete idiot, he chuckled lightly, shook his head with a look of sheepish pride on his face and turned an even deeper shade of pink. “Yeah . . . I met Fenna. She was there doing an apprenticeship with the healers,” he said finally, looking back into my eyes and I smiled at him again. “Magically speaking she was a bit of a late bloomer but nowadays she's as fay as you are.” He was silent for a few heartbeats, “I finally understand how you must feel. She's my wife. I would never betray her, I love her like I never imagined I would love anyone, and I know now why you would have found Rowan so completely irresistible, Fenna is a lot like him. But at the same time, I still love you. I always will, but I don't feel all that grief and conflict over it anymore. And, just so you know, you look amazing,” he tagged on with an irrepressible grin then winked at Evan.

I shook my head then asked, “What about Leif?”

“He's doing . . . Better. We don't see a whole lot of him, but when we do he seems like he's getting clear of things.”

I nodded. I hadn't been sure what sort of news Raphael would have had for me of Leif and I'd been half afraid to hear.

Raphael continued, “He was one of the loudest to defend your right to be left alone and he's gonna be pretty pissed off with me when I tell him I came here. I think that he understood best in some ways that you . . . needed to be away from us.”

I nodded slowly before commenting, “You're obviously still comfortable here.”

“Yeah,” Raphael chuckled. “I can't really hang out in this world much unless I'm at a costume party but I still like to visit now and again.”

Then a look of impatience flitted across his face, “But enough about me. What have you been doing with yourself these last two and a half years?”

I sighed, “Not much really. I helped Sheila run the garden centre. We sold it recently. I take care of Sulamith . . . I . . .” I faltered then took a breath and said what I meant. “I was falling apart when I left your world. I felt . . . no, I didn't feel. My life was, shattered. There were pieces everywhere. So I suppose I've been mending for the last two and a half years. I need time and space and love and patience to do that, and I have those things here.” I leaned into Evan's side as I spoke and held onto his hand more tightly. “No magic in the world can give them to me.”

Raphael nodded and was silent for a moment before asking, “What about Sulamith? How is she?”

“She's,” I smiled and paused trying to find words that were adequate. “Oh, I don't know . . . She's wonderful. She's sleeping right now but if you're quiet I can take you up and you can have a peek at her.”

“Yeah, I want to see her,” Raph nodded.

So I took him up stairs and cracked her door open so that the light fell on her face and you could see her dark curls and her smooth, still baby perfect cheek and brow. Raphael gazed at her for several minutes before we headed down to the kitchen where Evan had put on a pot of tea. Sitting at the table I pushed one of the most recent photo albums that Sheila had put together over to Raphael and he flipped through it, seeing little snapshots of our life. He stopped and stayed at a picture of Sulamith, fingering the image lightly and gazing softly at it. “She's a beautiful little girl,” he said. The picture was of Sulamith with a watering can at the nursery smiling in rubber boots and mud pants, her hair in wispy little curls around her face and her dark eyes sparkling. “She's perfect,” Raphael went on. “I can see so much of both you and Rowan there, and her eyes, it's like he's looking out through her eyes.”

“Raphael . . . don't,” I said placing my hand on his arm. I didn't want him to push me past that point that could be difficult for me to come back from.

He nodded and stopped. He looked at me silently weighing what to say next. Eventually he sighed, “I'm going to go, but . . . I want you to know, if you ever decide to come back, even just for a day, we all meet at the castle in the city on the winter solstice. Everyone is there and we made a pact to keep it going. It was Liam's idea. If you ever want to come . . . you could bring your family . . .” he trailed off.

“I . . . I'll think it over. I really can't make any promises. The idea of being back there still . . .” I shook my head unable to go on.

Raphael stood. He bent and kissed the top of my head, headed for the back door and out into the garden. I followed as far as the doorway and raised my hand. He turned and raised his hand in return and I could see that it hurt him to leave, and then he winked out of sight.