Page 150 of Architecti
You owe me a soul.
“There was no timeframe.”
You’ve had a year.
“Is it really you…?”I say trying to scan my mind for anything I can think of to escape.
Yes.
All this time, I didn’t want to face the truth of it, but the more we uncovered about Lucy’s runes, the more the nagging grew in my gut.
“A real angel?”And for a moment I forget myself, forget that she is fallen, a murderer, and I fall to my knees.
Yes.
I swear a feather brushes my cheek, gentle, tender.But she’s a killer?
“I can’t kill Lucy.I won’t bring you back to wreak havoc on our world.”
Your city has been deceived.I am not your enemy.They walk among you, disguised.You have to help me.It is your destiny.
My destiny is to be reaped by Ignatius.
Do you really believe that?
I smile.“If you’re asking me if I want another fate.Of course.”
“What if the only other way is to reap Lucy?”
“Then I choose her.”
“Fate repeats.We’ll see.I think there is another destiny meant for you.I can’t hold you here any longer.I have to show you who I am…”
There’s a heavy pressing sensation on my chest, and then my vision fills with colour and stood before me are two young angels and an enormous, looming bridge made of glass and smoke.
45
Architecti
Interitus has been erratic for days.Pacing, having outbursts, arguing with our peers, even shouting at some of the elders.She has grown restless in a way that I am struggling to appease.
The archelder asks me to take her for a walk to establish what is wrong.I didn’t want to, but he pleaded, and I complied because that is what I always do.
We’ve walked for miles, to the edge of our celestial realm.I thought we were walking randomly, but Interitus edges ahead, picking up the pace until a sheen of sweat appears on my brow.I realise too late where she is leading me.
“Must we walk to the bridge?”
She snaps her head around to face me.“Must you act so scared?It’s just a bridge, sister.”
“Yes,” I hiss.“That is a direct path to the underworld.It’s dangerous.We should head home.”
I tug on her wing tip, but she snatches it out of my hand, a feather pulling loose.It’s a black one, more of her tips are black these days.It crawls up the white of her wings, spreading like a virus.
“Sorry,” I say, clutching the feather to my chest.
Her eyes narrow at me, her mouth flexing as if she’s chewing on something.She says nothing, simply turns on her heel and marches in the direction of the bridge.She knows she has me.
I turn to see our home, the city of fates.It seems so distant now, so tiny.The glass spires and skyscrapers slicing fluffy clouds and reflecting the light into rainbows.
