Finding Heathcliff

Fifty-Eight

As Azrael watched the small, vulnerable group ride across the field away from him, Astrid setting a fast pace as if she could perceive the sudden upheaval in his thoughts, he could feel anger rise within him. He had listened to Michael for long enough now. Apparently, being an archangel didn't prevent him from making mistakes because this, allowing Astrid to return to Arcturus unprotected, was a huge mistake, Azrael couldn't allow it...

"Stop, Azrael," Michael warned, putting a restrictive hand on his shoulder even as Azrael was about to fly off to follow Astrid, either to force her to take him with her or drag her back.

"You should have made me her proper guardian angel when I asked you, then she wouldn't be able to leave me behind!" he whisper-shouted at the archangel, a storm raging within his seafoam eyes.

Their interaction started to attract the attention of the fallen angels standing in small, silent groups around them, so Michael replied in his mind.

Oh really? Do you really mean it? Because it's not too late to change your status, angel of death... I was certain that that little condition of guardian angels not being allowed to get involved with their charges romantically without a severe punishment would be a problem for both of you. But if you changed your mind, then just let me speak to...

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just..." Azrael shook his head, unable to put his feelings into words.

"Do you really think that I would send my only daughter to my enemy if I wasn't sure she would be safe? I've been thinking about this for a long time now, I'm certain it's me Arcturus wants, he won't harm Angelisa, not until she brings me to him," Michael said, his thoughts slipping into words again.

"How can you know that?"

"I killed most of his family," Michael admitted on a sigh. "I fought against his grandfather in the last war and killed his two brothers and his sister-in-law later, when I believed they killed Polaris."

Azrael sighed, the great tension he felt loosening a little. "But what if...?"

"We'll follow them up to Starling, but we must be careful, Angelisa mustn't see us. Then we'll hide somewhere closer, within the castle walls if possible, I want to see what will happen there, too."

"Can we do that? Can we conceal ourselves from her? She always saw me, whatever I did to hide," Azrael gushed, his voice not hiding the joy of not having to let her out of his sight.

"You forget that I'm an archangel, angel of death. I'll make you as imperceptible to her as myself. Let them reach the town before we join them; there's no danger there, and it will give me time to instruct the others on how and when to join us."

The archangel contemplated Azrael for a long moment, his lips curling into a content smile, making Azrael feel that he had passed a test of sorts.

But Azrael didn't care what the archangel's thoughts, carefully shielded from his intrusion, were whispering about him; the only thing that mattered was that he was about to follow Astrid. He didn't know when it had happened, but without her at his side, within his sight and reach, he felt incomplete, as if he couldn't take a deep breath, complete a thought, think of anything else but her, rushing towards possible danger. Making sure that she was safe and happy had become his reason to exist.

A strange coldness seemed to creep up Astrid's legs from the field sprinkled with the night dew, flooding her entire body gradually, as the distance between her and Azrael grew. She shivered, forbidding herself to look back, certain that if she saw him still standing under the trees, looking so forlorn and betrayed as he looked when she had kissed his cheek in a rushed goodbye, she would lose the courage to ride on. And she couldn't afford that, she had to do this, dealing with Uncle Arcturus was her duty. The man kept her... mother. He had kept both her and Astrid for years.

Many things had cleared up in Astrid's mind since she had left the castle, making her see her life, and the people who surrounded her while growing up, from a different vantage point, under a new light. Arcturus was an awful ruler. She had never loved Orion, not romantically. Deimos wasn't her uncle's scary sorceress, she was a human of angel descent loved by an archangel, Astrid's mother, a woman who most likely sacrificed her life and happiness to protect her only daughter...

The confusing thoughts helped Astrid to keep her mind off Azrael and not turn back, she kept her gaze glued to the trail across the field growing into a path as they reached the foot of the castle hill. She only looked towards the distant forest once, when they reached the gate in the town wall, and she saw no one under the tall, dark trees of the forest. Astrid sighed, remembering how the great open spaces used to scare her not too long ago, as that old feeling of oppression settled upon her again as she rode into the town, already pining for the freedom she had discovered, pining for Azrael. She shook her head and took a deep breath to disperse her anxiety and the few tears suddenly blurring her vision as she urged her horse to follow Izar's as she preceded Rigel into the streets of Starling.

Astrid, who had never visited the town as often as Orion, felt happy to see that the people who greeted Izar and Rigel in a most friendly manner, asking about their unusual number, eyeing whom they supposed to be their charge curiously, did not recognise her. The black dress Evangeline had given her and her hair which she started to wear in a single long braid falling over her shoulder during her travels must have made her look older, along with the adventure and loss she had been through. She preferred it this way; she didn't want to talk to anyone; she needed this time, the last part of the journey to gather her thoughts and decide how she would deal with her uncle. Would he be expecting her return? Would he suspect that she had learned so much on this journey, would he accuse and condemn her for Orion's death? He had always been fond of Orion; he had promised him the throne...

Astrid shook her head again, not paying attention to the people who moved out of their way politely, whispering, as the three back-clad figures rode through the streets and out of Starling again. Nothing of that mattered now. Whatever had happened could not be undone; it was the future she needed to change. She would start by freeing Deimos from Arcturus, and then take everything else step after step, the same way their horses climbed up the steep rocky hill all the way to the entrance of the castle, whose smooth white walls glistened under the morning sunshine, distracting her, taking her mind back to Oblivis, to the glowing White Tower, to Azrael...

And then the three silent, thoughtful riders were through the gate, and nothing within the castle's walls was as Astrid had expected it.