The Envy of Angels

Chapter 5

Jophiel's touch lingered on my skin for hours afterward--too much love, desperate as dying winter. The encounter elevated me quickly within Hosanna's society. I enjoyed the admiration, but the angel had unsettled me.

Regardless, the perks of joining the Sacred Chorus satisfied my desire for luxury. Conductor Elias assigned me an apartment within an elegant tenant building along the Temple rise. What good fortune. I now had a space to call my own, and a respectable calling for my music.

The crisp floor tiles and arches of my parlor opened onto a veranda overlooking the sea. I flung the doors aside the first morning, as dawn fragmented through the rectilinear glass panes. Hot jasmine tea and the velvet cushioned divan soothed my mind.

I rehearsed with the Chorus that afternoon and became better acquainted with its members. Everyone marveled over my encounter with the angel and complimented my adjustment to fame. Several people invited me to dinner, but I discreetly declined them all. Only one person occupied my thoughts--the captivating poet, Miss Annabel Lee.

At day's end, I headed for the rock where we'd met. Soon came the thud of hooves on sand, and I played with enthusiasm to draw her attention.

She trotted toward me. "Hello, Tristan of Steelbend. I hoped I'd find you here."

I tipped my new fedora to her. "It's now Mr. Tristan Herald. And I'm a member of the Sacred Chorus."

She smiled. "You look like a proper Hosanna gentleman, but I rather liked your simpler attire." She threw me a flirtatious glance. "I heard you were blessed by an Archangel."

I set the harp aside. "I was. A startling experience, to say the least."

"I've only seen an angel once, when I was little. It was definitely startling." She pursed her lips, then extended a hand to me. "I want to show you something. Hop onto Fidelius with me."

I slung the harp over my shoulder and climbed behind the saddle.

Fidelius sloshed through the receding tide, leaving a trail of crescent hoof prints. I rested my arms about Annabel's slender waist, trying to be a gentleman.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To a place of memories."

A craggy peninsula protruded into the surf. We passed through a wrought-iron gate, rust decorating its spiral patterns. Within the enclosure, rows of tombstones poked like bony twigs among sepulchers.

"A cemetery?"

"These are the tombs of Hosanna's nobility," she said. "But we're going down there."

We wandered down the trail and arrived at a quiet cove.

"Whoa, Fidelius." The horse halted on cue, and she looked over her shoulder at me. "There's a secret here, and I think we can write a song about it. Come on, I'll show you."

I slid to the ground, and she dismounted after. A bank of mist curled over the open sea, tinting the sunset a dim orange. Decaying seaweed littered the ground, pungent with fishy odors. She led me to the water's edge. Distant buildings and bridges sparkled over the harbor.

She took off her boots and waded into the surf. After watching for a few minutes, she picked something shiny out of a retreating wave. Childish wonder lit her face. "They say the Prodigal Star crashed on this very spot, many years ago. Some call it a myth, but no one can explain the shards which wash up here. Bright as moonlight, and they never rust. If the Star was made of this metal, where do you think it came from?"

She placed the object into my palm. I studied its glistening surface, and the enigmatic symbols etched upon it. One of the inscriptions resembled a face, similar to Jophiel's mask.