Lapidary

The rift was fused with the white wall, so that I couldn’t see it. It was in the corner of the balcony, and it was no surprise that I had never known it was there. This must have been how Ryker traveled to Vesea and back so quickly.

I shuddered to think that someone would have come through here and pushed him off the balcony. Neron had told me about the rifts, which meant he could have come here. But he didn’t have any motive to kill Ryker to take the crystal. The merfolk wanted the crystal as far away from Vesea as they could get it. Plus, it was Lakelyn, Neron’s sister, who had sent away the crystal in the first place.

Who else knew about this rift? The humans. They were part of the diamond-smuggling syndicate, and the rift was on their island. Robert Smith had reminded me that I was human, like him, and that the magical beings didn’t belong in this world. Ryker hadn’t belonged in this world.

I stepped backwards, into the rift, as I don’t want to linger and risk being seen by whoever lived here now. Once I was back on Bareband, I headed toward the north of the island, where the veil was thin, so that I could clear my head. I wanted to confront Robert about this rift because there was a chance that he had ordered his men to kill Ryker. They had, after all, read the letter and knew about the crystal. But how would I get them to confess?

Suddenly, the world cracked in front of me and formed an opening, a rift. White, heavenly light streamed through, and for a moment I could only stare. The world shook, and an angel stepped out. For a moment, I shielded my eyes against the bright light. This angel was tall with big white wings, and he was wearing white robes. I backed up, and he followed me several steps until the rift closed. He glanced to where the rift had been moments ago, before returning his attention to me.

“I’m the archangel Barattiel.” His face was so taut that I wondered if he is capable of smiling. “Was it you, mortal, who opened the rift?”

I shook my head and then found my voice. “No.”

“Who then? Who possesses the White Crystal?”

“I don’t know. Everyone is searching for it,” I responded. But clearly someone had it, as they have used it twice now to open portals. Maybe Ryker had hidden it, and someone had found it? Or maybe a human had gone through the half-rift and killed him to get it.

“You came from Heaven.”

“A rift opened unexpectedly in Heaven, and I decided to come here – for the other angels and the white crystal.”

“Why do you want the crystal?” I asked.

Barattiel met my gaze. “Last time the rifts opened and tore angels from Heaven. When the rifts closed, they were sealed shut – preventing anyone from entering or leaving, including souls. Everyone who has died during the past twenty-two years couldn’t move on.”

I shuddered. Where had the souls gone? What about The Accumulation, in Arameer? Some of the souls must have gone there. Others must be wandering around Vesea, as ghosts, which couldn’t be seen or heard. Finding the White Crystal was important, as it would allow the angels and reapers to use the rifts, like they used to, so that they could take the dead to the next world.

“Who is the archangel ruling over the angels on earth?” Barattiel asked.

“Artemis Highstar,” I answered.

“And who are you?” he wondered.

“Natka Roqueze.” Why did he even bother with my name?

Behind me sounded the clicking of a gun being loaded, and I turned around to find Robert Smith with several of his men, pointing rifles at Barattiel. I knew they hated magic, but threatening an archangel was simply stupid. Unnervingly, Barattiel looked as calm as a millpond.

“Get off our island,” Robert said.

I looked at him and wondered if he had killed Ryker. I somehow doubted that he had the crystal, because he would not have used it to let in an archangel.

“I don’t take orders from mortals.” Barattiel sent a wave on light-energy toward them that knocked them off their feet. The ground shook, and I forced myself to stay put instead of flee. Robert scrambled to his feet and rushed Barattiel. I kicked him to the ground then grabbed his gun and pointed it at his head. The shock on his face delighted me.

“You knew about the half-rifts,” I said, aware of Barattiel watching me.

“Everyone knows there are plenty of half-rifts in Vesea,” he said.

One of his men rose and aimed his gun at me, but I was fast enough to shoot him in the shoulder. He dropped, groaning, and I trained my gun on Robert again. Gods, first I had killed a daimon, and now I was shooting humans. Didn’t I have any limits?

“You knew about the rift that goes to Ryker’s apartment,” I said.

“Yes.” His throat bobbed.

“Did you kill him?”

“I swear I didn’t,” Robert said. “I never touched him!”

But if he did, he wouldn’t tell me because he knew I’d kill him for it. “Did you go looking for the White Crystal after you read the letter?”

Robert nodded. “When I let the letter go to Ryker, he must have used the half-rift to come here and retrieve it. But then he died. So, we went to New Peace and found his attorney, Zimran, hoping he could tell us where the White Crystal was. We hoped Ryker had left it to someone in his will, but Zimran told us he was no longer Ryker’s attorney. I thought he was lying—”

“You tortured him…”

“He knew there was a half-rift in his house, and he stayed there. He was asking for trouble.”

I shook my head, realizing that Bellevue hadn’t killed Zimran like I had originally thought. And Zimran hadn’t known where the crystal was.

“You used the rift to break into our apartment on the night that Ryker died.” I tightened my grip on the gun.

Robert gulped, and his eyes widened.

“Tell me!” I cried.

He nodded. “We broke in and took everything that might have been the crystal.”

They had left valuables such as the TV and radios but had taken stones, crystals, diamonds, and even my jewelry. They had only come for the crystal. There had been no sign of forced entry because they had used the rift. That was why Ace was never able to catch them.

“Did you find it?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

Suddenly, he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. I lowered my gun and looked at Barattiel, who had his hand outstretched. He dropped his hand, and Robert’s body stilled. For a moment I thought he was dead, but then he drew a deep breath.

“Did you find the crystal?” Barattiel asked.

“No,” he said. “I swear it.”

Barattiel twisted his hand in the air, and Robert contorted on the ground. When Barattiel let him go, he screamed, “I don’t have it!”

Why were Robert’s men not coming to his aid? Each of them had a shield that pinned them to the ground – the angelic shield Devton had told me about. If there had been an archangel in Vesea on the day of The Shaking, would he have created a powerful shield around the city to save everyone, even though using that much power could kill him?

Barattiel lifted his hand again.

“Please don’t,” I said. “I believe him.”

Barattiel raised an eyebrow at me, and I tried to ignore the voices in my mind. For a moment I feared the archangel was going to kill Robert, but then he dropped his hand to his side.

“I will find the White Crystal,” he said.

Then, having released his shields, he shot into the sky. Maybe he was going to find Artemis.

Robert got to his feet. “I didn’t kill Ryker, and I don’t have the White Crystal.”

As I walked away, I wasn’t sure if I believed him. None of his men tried to stop me.

***

I reached my cottage, where Devton was lying in the hammock. His eyes were closed as I approached him, and they opened when I was close enough to touch.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Lying in the hammock,” he answered.

I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He sat upright, perhaps troubled by my tone of voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Another rift opened and let Barattiel, an archangel, through.”

“Where did the rift open?”

“Bareband,” I responded. “And it was the Insurgents who robbed me on the night of Ryker’s death – there is a half-rift that took them from Bareband to our apartment in New Peace.”

“Does that mean they have the crystal?” Devton asked.

“I don’t think they have it,” I said, “and I heard Volgrun might be coming after you.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, which suggested he already knew.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” Devton said.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I like hanging out with you.”

“How so?”

He smiled. “You’re not judgmental.”

I understood what he meant. The whole Clepsydra Society was judgmental. I was judged for being a human and thought weak. He was judged for being a daimon and thought evil. Devton liked to hang out with me because I accepted him for who he was, like he accepted me. I am what I am. Maybe the tattoo wasn’t there to scare people, but to remind him that he knew exactly what he was and accepted himself. I smiled at him.

I sat down next to him, in the hammock, and my body pressed against his. I like being close to him, but it also scared me, because every time I got close to someone, I lost them. The voices were mumbling in my head. Were they trying to warn me? I touched my forehead as if I could shut them up.

“Are they telling you how irresistible I am?” Devton asked.

Wow, I had trusted him enough to tell him about my schizophrenia, and he didn’t judge me for it. He hadn’t started treating me differently after he found out.

“I can’t make out what they are saying most of the time,” I mumbled.

Devton turned his head away from me, and I knew he heard something that my human ears couldn’t. I looked in the direction he was, and moments later, Sachiel came walking to the beach, toward the cottage. She was hunched over, like an old lady, and stopped when she saw us.

“Good morning,” I said to her.

“There is nothing good about the morning,” she snapped.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Devton asked.

“You daimons happened.”

Devton figured out what she was saying before I did. “After The Shaking, the city and water was covered in blood – including daimon blood. You drank some of it.”

“I didn’t know I was drinking water mixed with blood at the time.” Her anger faded suddenly, leaving her sounding sad and defeated.

It was the daimon blood that had made her so weak and old, and it was slowly killing her. I thought about the water, colored black like lungs that had smoked too much tobacco.

“Can’t an archangel heal you?” I asked.

“The archangels don’t do anything if it doesn’t benefit them.” With that said, she walked off along the beach, leaving us to sit in the hammock as it swayed in the wind.

For a while, we were quiet, then Devton lit a cigarette and took my hand in his. An electric feeling rushed through me.

“What are we doing?” I asked him softly.

His gentle eyes traveled up my body until he gazed into my eyes. “Pretending that you could actually love me.”

First, I thought he meant that I could move on from Ryker and fall in love again. But then I realized he felt that no one could love him because of what he was. He might have accepted himself but felt that others couldn’t.

I leaned closer to him . He had saved me from Lakelyn, had held me when I cried, and he had showed me that I could still laugh. “You’re very easy to love, Dev.”

His lips brushed lightly against mine. The kiss was brief, soft, and ended quickly, as if it should never have happened.