19

~Ali~

I wake alone, yellow light glowing behind the beaded doorway. The empty mattress space beside me is still warm, the blanket crumpled around my waist. Voices float to my ears, muffled from behind the wooden curtain. I brush the sleep from my eyes and part the hanging beads, padding softly on the cold floor in thick socks I don't remember slipping on myself.

Ethan, Jack and Jaz lounge across a dappling of armchairs and footstools opposite a small fire pit. The rich, oaky scent of crackling firewood drifts across the room in soft, grey tendrils. Despite the cold walls, warmth fills the space in a hazy glow.

"Good morning!" Thessaly chirps, wiping down a pan with a drizzle of oil. The grease sizzles when she places it over the fire. "It's Ali, right?" She thrusts out a hand of greeting. "I apologise we were not formally introduced last night." I grip her hand in a tight embrace and shake briefly.

Reaching into a cupboard above her head, Thessaly pulls down two small glasses and uncaps the stopper plugged into a milk bottle. She pours generously, the glasses filling with pearly milk. She slides the milk across the counter and I take a long gulp, relishing the sweet aftertaste coating my tongue.

"Guanaco milk," she answers before I have a chance to ask. "I ran into a herd of them in the valley yesterday when I was collecting a delivery at the edge of the mountains." I smile around another mouthful of milk, nodding my appreciation.

"Thanks again for last night," I say, setting the empty glass down. She waves me away with a flick of her lithe fingers. "We all really appreciate you letting us stay. I can imagine it wasn't easy on you yesterday."

"It is the least I could do for our Prince and his company." She swoops over and collects my glass, popping both into the basin and rinsing them out with a bucket of melted snow water.

From behind the counter, I watch her quick, precise movements, tail snapping happily behind her as if she were a vivacious cub. But it is the distance in her calculating gaze, as if she could see two paces in front of each movement around her, which pulls my interest.

I think for a moment about my question, teasing the wording to express my curiosity in a proprietary manner as Thessaly lifts a chunk of dark red meat from a cooler. She takes a sharpened blade to the soft tissue. When she glances up at me, the depth of her opalescent eyes have the question bubbling forth before I can rethink politeness.

"I hope you won't mind me asking, Thessaly," her erect ears twitch towards my voice as she quickly slices the bloody meat in thick, even steaks, "but how old are you exactly?"

Thessaly chuckles softly, the sound likening to that of a chattering cheetah.

"Gosh, last I counted I was a quarter through my third century! That must've been several decades ago by now." Her voice trails off as she thinks so she doesn't notice my wide-eyed astonishment. Focus crystallises in Thessaly's gaze moments later and I school my features, although clearly not entirely well as Thessaly chuckles again. "Although most Elders are fourfold my age, making me one of the youngest. I know more than most, but I have much to learn. And a something tells me I am about to learn much with you around."

I settle my elbows against the smooth stone countertop, resting my chin in the cradle of my hands.

"Tell me, how did you end up all the way out here? I'll tell you now, you are not an easy woman to find."

Thessaly drops a couple of meat steaks onto the sizzling pan and the two collide with a satisfying crackle. She folds her arms across her chest, leaning her hip against the counter. She looks at me but I sense doesn't see me, her mind somewhere else entirely as she relives days of the past.

"That's exactly what I was hoping for - seclusion. My people are a... unique species, so I suppose in hindsight it is unsurprising that someone realised our power and tried to exploit it. But it was the brutality that accompanied our deaths that blemish our history. When the last of my family were killed or disappeared, I came to seek refuge from the butchering in this ice land. I've been safe since, and this climate really suits my animal side." Her tail flicks in a wide arch behind her, driving her point home. "It also helps that's the conditions are a natural deterrent for most people."

"How come there are so few of you remaining? I would have thought that with the combination of your senses and talents, it would be hard to massacre an entire race."

A shadow passes across her face, clouding her gentle feline features and I wonder if my question was too apathetic.

"It was a long time ago, when I was just a cub. The Dark Angels fell from The Kingdom and crashed into the Between - here, Earth," she hisses, golden eyes smouldering like burning coals. "Banished from Heaven and left roaming the Between, they began plotting routes to enter the Underworld. In doing so, the fallen angels struck an arrangement with the Underworld - anywhere other than the lands with His most special creation."

Thessaly winces, as if physical pain accompanies her next words. "The Fallen dealt with Lucifer and came to the agreement that they would be granted entry into the Underworld, so long as they pay the admission fee - a hybrid soul. The condition they were presented in was of no matter.

"Over the years, they hunted us like it was a sport. They attacked our most powerful, struck our most loved and stole their bodies." She pauses, eyes lowering to the floor.

Heartbeats pass as I feel the grief from Thessaly suffocate the room like revengeful hands.

"So yes, most of us were killed in the hunt and the remainder of us who were cunning enough ran into hiding. It was a small win with big consequences that nobody could have foreseen. Since the other Elders and myself are untraceable, the Fallen have moved onto abducting a life equal to that of a hybrid's value - they started stealing humans with the Gift." Thessaly's look is heavy with the gravity of her words. My heart sputters and dies in my chest. "That is why you most of all need powerful Guardians. The Fallen are not an enemy to be taken lightly and that is why you will spend your life in danger."

"I-I don't know if I'm equipped to lead a life of hiding. My life is short, I don't have forever like you. I want to experience everything I can before my time."

"Not forever," she concedes. "We are not completely immortal as you may have been lead to believe. We're born. We live. And at some point, we die. Everything that lives will die eventually, just maybe not in the way you are used to. But my people have a generously extended lifespan, bestowed from The Throne to allow us to acquire and spread as much knowledge as possible. The only species that will outlive us are the angels - like your Guardians. Well..." Thessaly's head tilts to the side as if she were reconsidering her words. "You of course know the exception."

My glance of confusion is quickly mirrored in Thessaly's gaze.

"You don't know?" She chimes, surprised. The slack look on my face must have been answer enough. "Oh, Child, you don't! Okay, let me quickly explain what it means exactly to have an angel guarding you. To have a guardian angel means that from birth, his soul is tethered to yours. It is this connection that brings out the Guardian's protective instincts. So, unless you die of nothing other than natural causes, then your souls will gently be unstitched and he'll be connected to the next human. But, if the cause of death is due to poor guarding - like overdosing, driving under the influence, suicide - as punishment, your angel will suffer the same fate."

I laugh nervously, for lack of any other immediate reaction, and consider the possibly devastating end that could have greeted not only myself, but also Ethan when I blundered from the cliff. Thessaly spoons the two well cooked steaks off the fire, wrapping them in crisp tinfoil, before placing two more meat slices onto the juicy pan.

"If you don't mind me asking without the others here, what brings you to me?" A single brow rises not unkindly.

Not sure how much I'm allowed to reveal at the moment, I play for polite aloofness. "We are looking for something - something important that could change everything."

Silence. Contemplation.

She nods a few times as she pokes the pink meat. "Well, of course my knowledge is at your whim." She fishes the two steaks off the pan, less cooked and still bloody in the middle, joining them with the others. "What is the topic of your troubles?"

"I don't think it's quite my place to say. It would be best for Ethan to explain."

"I understand my dear, just trying to glean information. I'm a curious cat, what can I say?"

"Well, we all know the saying." Thessaly chuckles and dips to collect more ingredients from a cupboard below.

I make my way towards the others lounging across the sofas and velvet footstools. My gaze meets Ethan's in a tantalising grasp and I have to cast my eyes to the floor to cover the flush blooming across my face.

When I look up again, his pastel blue eyes are still on me as he vacates the one of the three chairs, leaving the space open for myself. With no other small sofa or armchair to occupy, he slides to the floor and leans against the armchair I slide myself into. He leans backwards comfortably, cushioned between my feet. One of his hands rests on the cold floor beside my foot. His fingers find the hard points of my ankle, gently stroking the smooth curve of my achilles without breaking conversation. The warm fire glow sends waves of heat across my cheeks, giving me an excuse for my rosy complexion.

As if it were instinct, my hands dive into his waved, honey locks and fiddle with the strings. He falls impossibly further backward. This should be weird. I know it should. How can something so wrong between a mortal and angel just feel so right?

Thessaly pauses in her cooking over the open fire, fascinated by the sight of Ethan and I. No, not of us, but around us. She doesn't look at us - not directly anyway - but her eyes follow a path surrounding the two of us, like reading tracing the lines of a cloud. She smiles, a secretive smile to herself, and continues labouring over a large breakfast.

Jack's eyes settle heavily on my hands teasing Ethan's knotted curls. Ethan's head tilts to the side, stealing Jack's disapproving gaze away from our gently wandering hands. From the exasperated eye roll Jack makes a show of, I can only assume Ethan's returning look wasn't particularly inviting.

"Breakfast is ready!" Thessaly calls, unwrapping the cooked meat from the tinkling foil and sliding a stack of fresh toast off a skewer that was roasting gently over a small fire.

Breakfast predictably doesn't last very long, and after Jaz woofs down the last of her buttered bread, we gather the plates and cutlery and place them in the basin.

Gathering around the small kitchen bench, we all see the questioning in Thessaly's glowing eyes. It is time to get serious.

Thessaly directs her conversation to Ethan in a matter that doesn't exclude the rest of us.

"Ali tells me you are searching for something valuable. I'll be here to help as much as I can."

Ethan doesn't hesitate. "The Book of Angels," he bites. Thessaly's diamond pupils narrow. "We have reason to believe that the Fallen are convening. We need your help to find the book." I shift uneasily, inconspicuously sliding closer to Jaz. A darkness thickens the air at the mention of our request.

"If the fallen are conspiring an army against the Throne, then nothing is going to stop them. Especially not a book," she replies, cold.

"This is not just a book. This is The Book of Angels."

A growl rolls in the back of Thessaly's throat, like a far away thunder closing in.

"Thessaly, please." My voice wavers. I breathe and try again. "They're after us and any other gifted soul. You, above all others should understand that - do understand that. This isn't a selfish request, it's a selfless one. It is about revenge for the the stolen and the to be stolen. For a life where we don't have to hide..."

For all the determination and hatred burning behind her eyes, it is the fear that dowses the flames.

She swallows deeply, her eyes glassy as she tilts her head imperceptibly. She prowls away from us, paws moving with new purpose as she melts through a small, waist high door behind her desk.

A tall, leather bound book slides out from the darkness behind the little door. The papers crinkle as Thessaly crawls out and snatches the thick book, caressing away dirt on the tan cover.

Thessaly lets the record fall the short distance with an acceptable, dramatic thud to the table top. Dust plumes from between the pages, settling around the table like a gentle snowstorm. The cover opens with a tight snap.

She hooks her foot under a stool and reels it in toward her, perching on its upholstered edge.

"Well? Skedaddle! I can't work while you four sit around like a sack of mouldy potatoes." she dismisses us with a flick of her slender wrist, a glint of humour in her eyes as they travel across the tattered pages spread before her.