Year 2: Redemption: Guardian Angel Academy, #2

Year 2: Redemption

Guardian Angel Academy

Tamara Hart Heiner

paperback edition

copyright 2021 Tamara Hart Heiner

cover art by Fantasy Designs

Also by Tamara Hart Heiner:

Perilous (WiDo Publishing 2010)

Altercation (WiDo Publishing 2012)

Deliverer (Tamark Books 2014)

Priceless (WiDo Publishing 2016)

Vendetta (Tamark Books 2018)

Goddess of Fate:

Inevitable (Tamark Books 2013)

Entranced (Tamark Books 2017)

Coercion (Tamark Books 2019)

Destined (Tamark Books 2019)

Kellam High:

Lay Me Down (Tamark Books 2016)

Reaching Kylee (Tamark Books 2016)

The Extraordinarily Ordinary Life of Cassandra Jones:

Walker Wildcats Year 1: Age 10 (Tamark Books 2015)

Walker Wildcats Year 2: Age 11 (Tamark Books 2016)

Southwest Cougars Year 1: Age 12 (Tamark Books 2017)

Southwest Cougars Year 2: Age 13 (Tamark Books 2018)

Southwest Cougars Year 3: Age 14 (Tamark Books 2019)

Springdale Bulldogs Year 1: Age 15 (Tamark Books 2020)

Tornado Warning (Dancing Lemur Press 2014)

Eureka in Love Series

Shades of Raven (Tamark Books 2020)

After the Fall (Tamark Books 2018)

Guardian Angel Academy

Year 1: Renegade (Tamark Books 2021)

Year 2: Redemption (Tamark Books 2021)

Print Edition, License Notes:

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

IN THE BEGINNING, THERE was Light, and it cast out the Darkness. But one dark angel did not accept defeat and devised a plan to usher in the New Rule, the one that would take down the heavens and establish a new hierarchy.

Chapter One

MY FIRST YEAR AT THE Angel Academy was over.

It seemed like a miracle I made it through. It was a miracle.

I sat in a chair in the back of the auditorium with my wings folded behind me, still getting used to how it felt to have these new objects attached to my skin. And since they were different than the rest of my body, created in a holy, spiritual dimension, they were the one part of me that the other angels could touch.

The fourth years, graduating from the Academy, sat in the front rows of seats. They filed onto the stage, resplendent in their white wings, and received their new orders, along with a golden halo to rest upon their heads.

The fourth years sat down and the third years filed up.

I sat up straighter in my chair as the second years stood up and moved to the front to receive their promotion to year three, and I wasn’t the only one. The transition from second to third year was the most exciting. Every second year who leveled up became a GIT.

Along with the title change, third year angels were given a set of white wings to signify advancement.

This was my first Progression Ceremony, and I was breathless with expectation of seeing the new white wings.

Master Cassiel waited as Eldermaster Barachiel called the first student’s name.

Hesediel, Barachiel said. Recommendation: Third year.

She stepped forward, into a ring of Light illuminated on the stage.

Hesediel, Cassiel said, can you recite the words of promise?

I can, she said, staring straight ahead, her black wings trembling.

Please proceed.

She gave a little hum deep in her throat, then she said, I promise that I will bless and minister to the soul that will be entrusted to me with compassion. The Father is merciful beyond measure, and I will be an emissary of his mercy.

With those words, a sparkling, pulsing beam of Light descended upon the angel and transformed the black wings into wings of white.

I uttered a soft gasp, my own wings fluttering behind me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen something so beautiful. Days ago, I’d never dreamed I could have wings. Now, I already hoped to have white ones one day.

Cassiel handed her a scroll, and she took it before scurrying off the stage.

And then Eldermaster Barachiel started in on the second years from dorm Alef, and I paid more attention. As dormmates, we spent more time together. We took our meals together and shared a building. I knew these angels, even though we weren’t from the same year.

Abaddon. Recommendation: Third year.

The angel stepped forward and recited his words of promise to Master Cassiel, and then he received his wings.

Grigori.

I watched the change occur for each angel, fidgeting with anticipation.

Maalik.

Just hearing his name sent a shiver of anticipation through me, a feeling that both excited and worried me. There he was. Maalik stepped forward, and I squeezed my hands together, my eyes soaking in his features, the high cheek bones, the light brown hair, the serious expression. I was so anxious for him. Did the angels change when their wings changed? Would he be a different person? Would all of his time and energy go into caring for his assignment? Would he forget me?

I knew my questions and doubts were selfish, but I didn’t know how to rid myself of them. My emotions often ran away from me, and I hardly knew how to find them. They were new to me. In Sheol, the only emotions I’d felt were negative. Pain, suffering, hunger, anger, despair. I’d fed off the emotions of humans, seeking sustenance, desperate to ease the agony of my own existence.

The very memory caused my body to flush with shame, and I willed it away. The Father had offered me forgiveness, a chance at redemption, and I was grasping it with both hands. I was not the same soul I had been.

Maalik, Master Cassiel said, his smile fond as he looked at Maalik. Can you recite the promise?

I can, he said, and he didn’t wait to be prompted but launched right into it. No sooner had he finished speaking than the same beam of Light appeared above his head. The Light diffused over his wings, changing the smoky black color I had come to adore to a pearlescent white. I lifted my eyes to his face and saw the excitement that radiated there.

He was ready for this.

I couldn’t help but smile wistfully. If only he knew how great he was. How much he inspired me. I owed a good portion of who I was to him.

The second years filed off, and now it was our turn, the first years. I stood with my peers, smoothing the white gown and double-checking the black wings that sprouted from my shoulder blades. Then I followed my roommate, Iblis, across the row and up the steps to the stage.

I had met with my teachers just a few days prior and been recommended to move up to second year. I could only hope that judgment still stood.

Iblis, Barachiel said, and my roommate stepped forward, her brown hair glossy over her shoulder next to the colored ribbons representing our dorm. Recommendation: Second year.

She smiled and nodded, and Cassiel handed her an agenda. It was fancier than the ones we’d had as first years with the simple black cover. This one was brassy, and the school coat of arms was emblazoned across the front.

This will be your agenda for the remainder of your time at the academy, he said. Keep it safe.

She clutched it to her chest and hurried down.

Jerahmeel, he said, and my eyes followed the angel who had covered for me when I stole the dagger. As far as I knew, he hadn’t gotten in trouble. Recommendation: Second year.

I exhaled, relieved for him.

Barachiel continued down the line, calling forth my dormmates and other first years.

Kerubiel, he said, and I narrowed my eyes as the shade stepped forward.

More like, sauntered. The smugness radiated off him, his aura an alluring blue and green. The shadows built in his wake, but I wasn’t drawn to him as I had been before. My angelic ichor pulsed within me, warning me. Mayhem was coming, and my soul whispered that Kerubiel had a part to play in it.

Barachiel studied him, a slight tilt to his head. Recommendation: First year.

A few whispers scattered through the angels around me, but Kerubiel was not the first to be recommended to repeat the year. I watched him for his reaction. He gave a smirk and strutted off the stage.

I’d seen that one coming.

Jezbathasat.

Barachiel did not even bother shortening my name now. I supposed there was no reason; my fellow angels knew my lineage. But I still winced when I heard it, the constant reminder of where I came from. If only I could get out from under it and get a new name. But the angels had been named for their parentage, many of them carrying a portion of the Father’s name in their names.

I was also named for mine.

I stepped forward, trying to stifle the fearful unease that crept down my spine. My wings quivered behind me, opening and closing nervously.

I didn’t know what was coming, and I could only hold my breath.

Recommendation: Second year.

My eyelids fluttered, and a smile broke across my face. I stepped to Cassiel and accepted the agenda, then hurried from the stage before he could change his mind.

Jez.

I should not have been surprised to hear Maalik’s voice in the darkness, but I hadn’t expected him. I spun from my walk to the back row and stepped into the shadows, where he waited near the stage. He held his hand out, and I hovered mine over it, allowing our auras to mingle. Delightful tingles ran up and down my arm, and I moved my hand up his arm so more of our auras connected.

Congratulations, he said, his voice deep and rich. You moved up.

And you have white wings. I stepped closer to him, my body nearly pressed against his, and longed to feel his arms go around me. But he couldn’t touch me without causing me excruciating pain. Our spirits were not of the same caliber.

Maalik glanced at the scroll in his hand. I’m to spend the summer with a fourth-year mentor, shadowing humans and practicing my gifts so I’m ready to accept an assignment.

I studied the white wings, the tufts of down on the arches and splaying feathers. They are beautiful.

Next year you’ll earn them too. He reached a finger out and stroked one of my black feathers.

I held very still, treasuring the touch of his hand. The only part of me he could touch without causing pain was my wings, and I took great pleasure in it every time he chose to do so.

Do you think we could try—? I whispered, but Maalik shook his head, cutting off my question.

We should be grateful for what we have.

I knew he was right; not so long ago, I didn’t have wings, and no part of us could touch. I just wanted to see if we could.

But while Maalik seemed patient and long-suffering, I wanted more. I wanted to hold his hand, to know what it felt like to have his arms around me. To kiss him.

He wouldn’t try it. The touch of angels burned my soul. I didn’t care; it would be worth it. But Maalik wouldn’t do it. A sigh escaped my lips.

Come on, he said, pulling on a feather. There will be a feast after. You won’t want to miss this.

Food had a way of brightening any occasion, and I’d grown fond of it. Besides, I was a Second Year now. I had wings and no reason to be dissatisfied.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I trailed after him and tried not to wish for more.

I FOLLOWED MAALIK BACK to the cafeteria, which had been redecorated to look more like a ballroom. Glittering chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, and a small platform had been set up in a corner with an orchestra of strings and harps. A large banquet table was set up by the wall, and from where we stood, the food looked delectable.

And some of the angels danced. The new second and third years moved awkwardly, laughing the whole time as they whirled their way around the ballroom. But the fourth years danced as if the music created the steps inside of them, clasping each other and moving their feet in a synchronized rhythm as they spun around the room, wings tucked close against their bodies except during certain moments when they spread them in unison. I stared at them, at the graceful dance they did with each other.

You look enthralled. Maalik stepped to my side and handed me a goblet filled with a sparkling red liquid.

I’ve never seen such beautiful dancing, I admitted. I had seen plenty of dancing when I had tiptoed around the earth, but nothing that could be considered inspiring or uplifting.

They are worshiping with every step they take.

I looked at him. Can you dance like that?

I don’t know how yet. Dance is a third-year elective. Along with choir and strings.

But you’re going to take it.

I’m going to take every class. Even if I have to repeat a year so I can get them in.

I smiled, my heart warming. That was Maalik. Whatever damage had been done to his soul on earth, he had managed to overcome it here in Arcadia. That knowledge pacified my guilt more than I could explain.

I want to learn. But I won’t be able to dance, I said, unable to keep the wistful tone out of my voice.

Let’s try.

I looked at him. You can’t dance with someone without touching them.

Have you ever tried? They did it during the Regency period. He wrapped his fingers around the base of my goblet and used that to pull me onto the dance floor.

Mirth bubbled up in my chest, and I wasn’t sure how to react to the sudden desire to laugh. Humor was still new to me. Was it an appropriate reaction to this?

One hand still on my goblet, Maalik positioned his other hand behind my shoulder, caressing the base of my wing where it emerged from my shoulder blade. The touch tingled, sending sparks of pleasure through my chest. He kept his elbow lifted so his body did not brush mine, but I felt his nearness.

Do you think I will be able to have an assignment one day? I asked as we moved in an uncoordinated pattern to the music.

Of course. That’s why you’re at the academy. You’re one of us, Jez.

I nodded, masking my face so he wouldn’t see my fear. His white wings were beautiful, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for them. I might be happy staying a second year for the rest of my eternal existence.

How could I change to helping mortal souls when I had spent my previous existence leading them down to Sheol?

The song ended, and Maalik released the goblet to me as a group of newly made third-years gathered around him, laughing and smiling and admiring their white wings together. I took the opportunity to slip over to the wall, fighting the urge to withdraw into myself, since that was what came naturally to me. Feeling inconspicuous, I picked up a cream tart and sniffed at the earthly delicacy.

You must feel pretty good about yourself.

I stiffened at Kerubiel’s voice and turned my head to see the shadow shade approaching me. I regarded him, memories of our last few unpleasant interactions floating through my mind.

Nice wings, he said, sidling up beside me.

Thank you.

What did you have to do to get them?

I cocked my head. What do you mean?

I mean. He smirked. We know where you’ve been sneaking off to. How did you convince them you were trustworthy?

I didn’t answer him. He lowered his voice further.

You promised to come get me, he hissed. You promised to take me with you. But I guess your kind don’t keep promises, do they?

That stirred me to respond. I was protecting you by not taking you.

You made a choice for me that wasn’t yours to make.

His words pricked me. Had I done that? Taken away his choice because I knew it wasn’t right? If you want to go to Sheol, you don’t need my help to get there.

Oh, I know. It was your influence I wanted. You have some sway with the beings that dwell there.

I narrowed my eyes at his words and turned to regard him. I scanned him, noticing the deepening depths to his shadow. You’ve been there, haven’t you? I breathed out.

This time it was his turn not to answer, though his grin turned smug.

Someone told Iblis to follow me that night, I said, anger choking my voice. Someone who knew where I was going. Was that you?

He blinked, and then said very slowly, almost lazily, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I don’t believe you, I fired back.

If I’d known you were going that night, I would have gone with you. You didn’t tell me the plan. That same lazy smile turned up one corner of his mouth. It’s almost like you don’t trust me.

Insufferable! How had I ever been attracted to his Darkness? No wonder the other angels avoided him. I crossed my arms over my chest, my wings beating in irritation. At least you’re still a year one. You don’t deserve to move up.

I didn’t want to. But I’m sure we’ll still have classes together.

He reached a hand out as if he was going to touch me, and I jerked away, shooting lasers with my eyes. He laughed and withdrew.

You don’t have to be afraid of me, Jez. There’s a connection between us. I know you’ve felt it. So quit fighting it. I’ll see you later.

He drifted away from me, leaving me quite perturbed and slightly rattled. As much as I didn’t like it, there was truth to his words. I’d been drawn to him from the beginning. Even now, knowing what he was, a part of me couldn’t shake him from my thoughts.

Kerubiel had been to Sheol, I was certain of it. Was he the other one Hasatan had hinted at? The infiltrator who would take my place?

As much as I didn’t like it, I would need to keep him close.

Chapter Two

THE NEXT FEW DAYS WERE calm and quiet as we adjusted to life without classes.

Where are you off to? I asked Iblis as I watched her change into earthen clothing: jeans and a tank top, with her academy cardigan over the top. And of course, her pink shoes.

Shamayim, she said, pulling her long hair to the side and braiding it. Master Selaphiel told me I could spend a few days with my grandmother.

That will be nice. Right?

Shamayim was where the Father dwelled. GAs were not allowed to visit Shamayim or earth during our first year. But the year was over, and we were on break. The archangels were allowing students to go, under escort, to Shamayim if they had a loved one they wished to visit.

I’ve been looking forward to seeing her since she died four years ago. I loved my grandma. Iblis beamed and buttoned her cardigan.

You don’t have to wear the school uniform right now, I said.

I know. But I’m proud to be a GA, you know? I want Grandma to see I’m at the academy. She’ll be so happy for me. For a moment, a cloud crossed her face. I just wish my mom could see. It would give her a lot of peace.

Can’t do that, I said, my voice teasing. They would mistake you for a ghost.

While I kept my voice light, my words held a warning. The spirits who got stuck on earth were an issue unto themselves, and a department existed in Shamayim devoted to helping them find their way to Gehenna, the transitional sphere for the recently deceased. The stuck spirits caused all kinds of havoc among mortals. Angels were not to visit their family and cause the same sorts of trouble.

No, of course not. Iblis rolled her eyes. Give me some credit, Jez. Just because I wish my mom could see me doesn’t mean I’m going to go breaking rules and make it happen.

Of course not, I said, pretending like it hadn’t occurred to me. But I relaxed. Iblis was a rule-follower.

She and I were as different as night and day. But when she’d been offered the chance for a different roommate, one who wasn’t the daughter of Hasatan or wearing removable chains, she’d elected to stay with me. Some of it was probationary, I knew, but the fact that she gave me a second chance endeared her to me even more.

She finished her braid and looked over at me. What will you do while I’m gone?

Eldermaster Barachiel wants me to brush up on my skills. And I might read a little. I’d discovered a bit of a passion for it, now that I could discern meaning from the symbols scrolled across the pages.

What about Maalik?

Maalik is gone to earth. He’s learning how to use his gifts among humans.

It would be hard to go back and not be able to visit my family, Iblis said, looking thoughtful. But I get the rule. How could we concentrate on our assignments if we’re worried about our families?

I nodded along as if I understood, but I didn’t. The only beings I had ever cared for were here at the academy with me.

Well, except my mother. But I would not allow myself to think of her.

Iblis’ agenda dinged, and she picked it up, opening it to read the message. Master Selaphiel is waiting for me in the courtyard. She reached over and squeezed the feathers on my right wing, the closest thing we had to a hug or girl handshake or whatever friends did. I’ll see you in a few days.

Which meant I might not see her until right before classes started. Time drifted differently here, hours sometimes taking days and days taking hours. Time as we knew it was rooted in earth and mortality. The stronger our connection to mortality, the more time reacted as it did on earth. With her on Shamayim, she might lose track entirely. The archangel would make sure she made it back in time.

Have a nice time, I said.

Thanks. Let me know what you do all summer. You can still message me. She eyed me. You can change your clothes also, you know, she said, taking in my plaid skirt and button-up shirt.

I shrugged. I’ve never worn earth clothes. They don’t make me feel more human.

She grinned and hauled a pair of jeans from her closet. You might be surprised. Try them. I’ll see you soon.

With that, she left me. I fingered the dark, stiff fabric. What the sky? I may as well. I hauled my skirt off and pulled the jeans on instead, surprised at how the fabric yielded to the form of my legs. No wonder Iblis liked these.

I felt another sting of envy. So many wonders and delights accompanied earth life. So many things I would never experience.

Be grateful for what you do get, I reminded myself. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful; I just longed for more.

I changed my shirt, also, pulling on a soft long-sleeved sweater I found in my closet. My wings tugged at the fabric before bursting out, and I ducked into the washroom to admire how they looked behind the sweater.

Luscious black wings. I doubted I would ever get tired of that.

I finished changing and went down to the courtyard as well. Students milled about in clusters, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company. It didn’t startle me anymore to see angels holding hands or sitting close to each other. It seemed only natural now that even after death, beings would pair up.

I continued past the courtyard to the Azreal Greenhouse. Archangel Barachiel had encouraged me to practice my creation skills, since they were the most lacking.

Other angels also practiced their skills, growing plants out of the ground or setting up work stations for art projects. Master Sabriel looked up from her plants when I entered. Her eyes clouded with distrust, but she gave me a smile anyway. She had recommended me for second year but clearly still had reservations.

Welcome, Jez, she said. She gestured at the rows of dirt in the greenhouse. Would you like to work on growing life? Or did you want to experiment with creating beauty?

I looked at the rows of dirt, ready to be seeded, and took a deep breath. Eldermaster Barachiel would like me to work on creation.

Both are forms of creation. Which would you prefer?

I gestured at the dirt. Life, I guess.

She crouched in front of a small dirt hill and gestured for me to sit across from her. Would you like my help?

I knelt also. I don’t know. What do I need to do?

I already have a seedling planted here. Can you make it grow?

I can try. I placed my hands on the dirt and gathered my energy around me, pulling it up from my soul into the ends of my fingertips, then shoved it into the dirt, directing it toward what I hoped was the seedling. The ground absorbed the energy, flashing with an orange brilliance for a moment before dissipating. I waited for the seed to burst from the ground with tiny green leaves, but nothing happened.

Why didn’t it work? I asked. Did I not wait long enough? I saw an aura. I know my energy flowed into it.

Sabriel nodded. Yes, you did good with that. But did you locate the seedling first? Do you know where you’re sending the life force?

Oh. My face warmed. No. I didn’t think of that.

That’s okay. The smile she gave me felt more genuine. You’re an Empatya. Reach into the dirt with your soul and find the seedling. Feel the tiny life pulsing within it.

I stared at the ground, but I couldn’t see past the black layer of soil in front of me. I dug my fingers in, pinching the rich, moist texture.

Find the seedling.

I pushed the energy out, imagining my fingers growing, groping through the soil, finding and caressing the seed.

There is was. I blinked in surprise at the energy I found. It had a—an essence. It’s—it’s alive, I said, awed.

Of course it is. Sabriel laughed.

"But—it has a soul."

A spirit, Sabriel corrected. It’s a living entity. It’s not sentient and has no thinking abilities, and thus no soul. But it can feel, I promise you that.

For a moment, I let my energy mingle with the seedling’s, feeling its tiny desire to fulfill its purpose in life: grow. Soak up the sunlight and sprout leaves, send forth blossoms and fruit. Such a simple mission.

Can you help it? Sabriel asked.

I took a deep breath, feeling an unexpected connection to the little plant. I wanted to help it succeed. I wanted to see it flourish. Once again summoning my energy, I directed it toward the seedling. I felt a jolt when they connected. The seedling released its own burst of energy, and then it sent forth little green sprouts which poked up from the soil and trembled in the humid greenhouse air.

I pulled my hands back, unexpectedly moved—and also tired. It worked.

Good job, Jez. Master Sabriel wiped her hands on her pants and stood up, studying me. You connected with the plant’s spiritual being. That allowed you to keep your eye focused on the task while you directed your energy toward it.

I didn’t know. I didn’t know they’re alive. I thought of the plant I’d killed on my first day in Creations class, and shame and regret filled me.

And then reality set in. How could I be distraught over the death of a plant, a non-sentient being, when I had a hand in bringing about the spiritual, even physical, deaths of hundreds of human beings throughout history?

No wonder she didn’t trust me.

My dark thoughts clouded my vision, and I backed away from the soil, afraid I’d contaminate the little sprout with my Darkness.

I am sorry, I said, and then I turned around and fled before I could do more harm.

The Darkness followed me out of the greenhouse, carried me to the Skyball pitch, where I stood with my arms wrapped around my torso glaring at the library tower.

I closed my eyes and inhaled. I wanted Maalik. As a Shade of Light, his mere presence calmed me, helped me deal with the evil inside of me. My fingers clenched into fists. I’d made my choice. Why did the Darkness still influence me?

Jez? Is that you?

I opened my eyes, part of me hoping it was Maalik but knowing it would not be. I could feel when he was near. I turned around to see Jerahmeel approaching, his head tilted to the side, blond curls framing his bronze skin.

It’s me, I confirmed.

He gave a smile. You’re harder to pick out of a crowd now that you have wings. His wings flapped, and he flew upward before sitting on one of the seats on the platform bleachers that surrounded the Skyball pitch.

You can fly already? I looked up at him, but I couldn’t fly, as most first and second years hadn’t learned the skill yet. These wings of mine didn’t do that. I’d have to take the stairs winding around the back.

I’ve been practicing, he said when I reached him. I like these wings. He said it with a wistful fondness in his voice.

I moved to sit beside him. Iblis went to Shamayim.

I know.

You didn’t want to go with her? Though neither had told me, I’d noticed how the two of them had gotten closer in the last few months of school. I kept quiet about it, not sure if either of them was aware.

I had to admit Iblis was good for him. He’d been less caustic, more open, happier since they’d gotten close.

She didn’t ask me to. She went to see her grandmother. Probably a private visit. I bet she’ll find lots of family members there.

Don’t you want to go?

He shook his head. The only people I’m concerned with are still on earth, and the archangels won’t let me go there.

The bitterness crept into his tone again, and I shifted uncomfortably. Jerahmeel left himself open to manipulation. He was the other one I’d intended to deliver to Hasatan because I knew his desire to help his family was a weakness.

Weaknesses led to bargains, but bargains were one-sided. Always. Every moral story and fable told about what happened to those who made deals with the devil. Yet mortals and angels alike continued to do it.

I had even fallen for it.

Didn’t they assign Guardians to your family? I asked.

They said they did, but I don’t trust them. Guardians are weak. They won’t interfere if something bad’s happening. All the stupid free-will stuff.

Yes, they will, I said. That’s why we’re learning how to protect and defend, how to summon the elements. So we can protect our assignments.

He gave me a long-suffering look. Just go ahead and believe that. You’ll learn otherwise when you get an assignment. Our job is to watch and make sure everything plays out according to heaven’s plan. Only if it’s not do we intervene. We’re not helping.

There was truth in his words, and yet it didn’t sit right with me. I frowned. What was the point to the academy and our education, then?

You don’t have to stay, you know, I said. You can leave the academy anytime you want. Why don’t you?

I will, he said. But I’m not done mastering my gifts yet. When I am, I’m going back to earth. I’ll protect my family myself.

Jerahmeel, you can’t, I said, feeling a rush of concern for the other angel.

What are they going to do to me, take my wings? Make me a Fallen because I love my family too much? Let them.

But you would never be able to return. You couldn’t come back to Arcadia or go to Shamayim.

Jerahmeel turned his blue eyes on me as I spoke, and my voice trailed off. He didn’t want to come back to Arcadia or Shamayim. He would live out eternity on earth as a Fallen if it meant helping his family.

I tried one more tactic. They won’t live forever. Someday they’ll die and pass on, and you’d be stuck there without them.

I don’t care, he said. As long as they’re protected during their earth life.

What about Iblis? I said, taking a chance that she meant more to him than he let on.

He blinked, considering. Maybe she’ll come with me.

More arguments floated to the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. Jerahmeel wasn’t thinking logically. Earth life passed in a blink of an eye, and it could be unpleasant, but the life that came after was what mattered.

I would talk to Iblis about him when she returned. She’d be able to make Jerahmeel see reason.

I KEPT MYSELF BUSY at the greenhouse over the next few days, tending to my little sprout, with neither Iblis nor Maalik present at Arcadia. I channeled my energy forward and watched the branches shoot out, leaves unfolding at the ends and quivering with new life.

You’re becoming quite good at that, Master Sabriel said as she watched me care for the plant.

How could I explain that making this spirit grow somehow made me feel as if I were atoning for my wrongs? I was learning the value of life. The value of creation.

Master Sabriel, I said, how did the spirit get into the seedling? Who creates that?

The energy of creation is in the universe, she said. It’s what makes the greenhouse special. The energy is concentrated here. All life is pulled and created from the universe.

All life?

All except for us. We were created by the Father. He made our spirits. She studied me. Except you.

I wondered for a moment if she was rubbing it in my face, trying to shame me, but I saw no malice in her eyes.

I was created by Hasatan, I said. I had a father and a mother. They used their combined energies to create a new life.

I know, she said.

I hesitated, then ventured, Can all spiritual beings create life?

She didn’t answer for a long moment. Then she said, It was believed that Hasatan could not. The gift of creation was taken from him when he barricaded himself in Sheol, or so we thought. The discovery of your existence came as quite a surprise. But then we learned who your mother was, and it became more clear.

She hadn’t answered my question, but her words sparked my interest in a different direction. You knew my mother?

Of course, she said, and she looked away. We all knew your mother.

Who was she? Where is she now?

I do not know, she said, and she stood up before I could ask her to clarify her answer. When was the last time you tried creating inanimate objects? You should see if you’re more capable of transferring your energy into them now.

With that, our conversation ended. I spent the rest of the week with the clays, trying to impart beauty and life into something that had none.

Chapter Three

BARACHIEL SUMMONED me to his office a few weeks before the start of the next year.

Master Sabriel tells me you’ve been doing quite well in Creations, he said.

I bobbed my head. I’ve had some success with the plants. Still not good with inanimate objects.

You’ll get there. I haven’t seen you at the Synergy fields practicing the elements.

I shrugged. I don’t have a difficulty with them. I had an innate ability to manipulate three of the four elements, including water: the only student in the history of the academy to be able to do so.

That’s true, isn’t it? He smiled in acknowledgment. What about weapons? You should be training. But Master Ingram says you haven’t been down to the armory even once.

She doesn’t want me there, I said.

That doesn’t matter, Jez. You’re untrained. You must know how to defend yourself and even take the offensive.

Jerahmeel’s words echoed in my mind in spite of myself: that our skills were pointless. We weren’t to intervene. Why? Who will I be fighting?

I expected Barachiel to tell me I’d be fighting the Temptare, protecting my assignment, or defending myself against the Fallen. But instead he gave the slightest