The Book of Miranda | gxg | ❖

(20) Seven Bloody Books

It all comes back to that damned angel. I glare him down, and he smirks back at me like a too-suave young man caught with his hand up a pretty lady's corset at a party. He's the heart of all this. MSTM, the Prince of Ravens, center of the angel cult. It would be lovely it we had even the remotest inkling who he was, let alone how to counter him.

I slide my hand into my pocket. The moment my fingertips make contact with the matches there, a visceral pulse of threat seizes me. I whip around. Colson II is glaring at me. Directly at me, making eye contact like he scarcely did when I interrogated him. Several other students are watching me as well. I've interrupted their Sunday worship services, and whatever Colson II was communing with. My tongue mutters an apology of its own accord as I beat a hasty retreat. Fleeing isn't glorious, but neither is getting lynched by a collective of disgruntled churchgoers. I'll take a demon anyday.

Exie stares at me with wide eyes when I rejoin her. Clarice is eyeing up the gold gilding on the nearest picture frame.

"We need to go," I say in a lowered voice. Exie doesn't question me—just nods. It takes both of us to pull Clarice from her ogling, but standing in her view of the gold seems to do it, at which point she too registers the threat. Going back to Exie's room doesn't feel safe enough. Those doors are thick, but I don't trust a teacher not to knock on ours, then question why Exie has two other girls over. My face heats up at the notion, so I shove the impure thought aside. Then I pause and secretly entertain it again. If we're dealing with a fallen angel here, maybe impure thoughts can dupe him into thinking we're on his side.

Exie pauses in front of her doorway as I make to pass it by. "Where are you going?" she whispers.

"I have a place."

She takes my word for it, likely against her better judgment. When we reach the hall's end, I pretend to admire the stained-glass windows as an excuse to shoulder-check for any students who might be surveilling us. It's almost lunch. People have gravitated towards the dining hall, and if we can get this conversation over with, we can use the bell as cover for our reintegration into the student body. As I'm looking over the stained glass, though, something snags my eye.

There's a book in this window spread, and I've seen it before. The first time I snuck out of my room at night, I saw another on the opposite end of the school, but this isn't just a matter of repeated motifs. This angel is posed differently, and in the daytime with good lighting, I can actually make out the book's design. To nobody's surprise, it bears an angel. The ornamentation is identical to that on the hymnal and Miranda Bible, but there's something different about this book. It's bigger, for one. Much bigger, requiring the stained-glass angel to hold it in both hands. And rather than the beaten-leather brown of both the angel-books we've acquired thus far, this one is red. Blood-red. The very color sends a shiver up my spine.

"Have we seen one like that yet?" I say.

"One what?" says Exie.

I point her to the book. In doing so, I notice more things. The angel in question isn't hiding in a corner as ancillary design. It's sitting front and center on a panel, and across from it, I spot another the moment I'm actually looking. Two books.

"It could just be decorative," says Exie, but even she sounds like she doubts the statement.

"How many are there?" says Clarice.

"At least three. Come on." I spin on my heel and make an effort not to sprint down the hallway towards the dormitory at its other end. I spot the book I once noticed there immediately. It too has a counterpart, a bit more subtle, but identically designed. I backtrack and veer into the lobby. The stained-glass panels on either side of it have a book each.