Feathers and Brimstone

Chapter 12

As Adrien and Sister Elena continued to make idle chatter, the door to the kitchen creaked open. Mug still warm in his grasp, he turned back and saw that it was Sister Cassandra with Hannah nearly out of view behind her. Adrien tried his best not to seem too eager as he placed the mug down an stood up, but the chair scraped the floor and nearly fell backward as he made his way over to Hannah. His hands reached up to hold her by the shoulders.

"Did you get your wings back?" he asked, close to her. Her eyes were pointed to the ground as though searching for the answer in the cracks of the flagstone floor. When Hannah looked up at him, his heart nearly sank. "Fuck."

In his periphery, Sister Cassandra gave him a curt stare but Adrien ignored her. She shooed Sister Elena from the room before any more could be said. It was clear that knowledge about the angels was kept a tight secret.

"It didn't work," Hannah choked out before she fell against his chest, nestling her head into his neck as she sobbed quietly. "She tried to heal my mind so I might at least get some memories back, but that didn't work either. I still don't remember anything."

His arms came around her in a protective hug. 

"So what are we supposed to do now?" He turned to Sister Cassandra, who still shot him a disapproving glare. "Hannah's still an angel, isn't she? She has to get her message to the Vatican," he stressed.

"Since Hannah lost both wings, there is nothing for Mother Micheala to heal," said Sister Cassandra, her disposition softening. "It must be a protection spell, so fallen angels can't reveal the secret messages they are suppose to carry to anyone who is not supposed to receive them."

"Then how is Hannah supposed to get her wings back?" Adrien nearly growled, swallowing it back thickly. A familiar prickling skittered across his skin. Now was not the time for that.

"Hannah must go to New Babylon to become an angel again."

Adrien's brows furrowed, his arms unconsciously tightening around Hannah. She shifted beneath him, drying her eyes. "New Babylon?"

Sister Cassandra nodded. "Yes. I know things are... not best. Come with me."

While she continued to dry her face, Adrien took Hannah by the hand as Sister Cassandra escorted them out of the kitchen and back down the gallery to the central hall. Inside was like a grand parlour, with carpeted floors in geometric patterns and silk curtains hanging down from the ceiling. To the back of the chamber, chairs and tables were sparsely arranged in circles as though set up for small meetings or group activity. Nearer to the front were a few rows of pews.

A decorated dais was set in the middle of the back wall with a small silk and tassel canopy above it. On either side were two ornate doors. On top of the platform sat an old woman in a carved upholstered chair. The gold cross that hung from her withered neck stood out against the wine red of her nun's habit. Beside her stood another figure; someone dressed in all white and sporting wings.

He was an angel.

As Adrien stared at him, he wondered if this was the fabled War Angel that humans ever so rarely saw. From what little information about them that was known, they were always described as having three pairs of gold wings and non-human features. They were meant to have a fearsome appearance as they were the true demon hunters. But this angel didn't match that description. Nor did he look like the typical humanoid Messenger Angel or child-like Cherub that Adrien was more familiar with. Instead, he had two pairs of wings; one white and one that glittered like silver.

The three of them stood before the platform in the great silence of the room. Sister Cassandra bowed her head reverently before she addressed the ornate nun – most likely Mother Micheala, Adrien thought – in Greek. Her eyes, sharp and bright for her age, looked him up and down as though assessing him against some unknown criteria.