Page 30 of Nightshade

“Yes. The heavens compel them to hunt the Fallen. It is their own personal demons which determine whether, or not, they do.”

Which would’ve suggested that a fallen angel had taken an interest in me at some point. Or at least stuck around the places I liked to play, because it seemed like I was always being watched. “And if that were the case, if he was watching over me … or simply watching, rather, it was likely due to the presence of the Fallen?”

“Perhaps. It’s hard to say what his motives might’ve been.”

“But he would’ve been the reason a fallen angel wouldn’t have taken me as a child?”

“He would be the only reason a fallen angel couldn’t have. The Fallen fear their kind, as they possess the powers of both Heaven and Hell.”

Pulling my knees up, I wrapped my arms around my legs, attempting to mentally absorb all of the new information I’d been fed while desperately searching my thoughts for any lingering questions. Who knew when I’d get to have such an open conversation with someone about these things again without sounding like I needed to be locked away?

“Have these Sentinels been around as long as any other angel?”

“Millennia.” Xhiphias held the feather over the flame, and I marveled at the way the silvery streaks glowed orange, even though the feather never caught fire. “Praecepsia was the birthplace of Sentinels.”

“Praecepsia! That was the name!” Forget that I was freaking out that the guy mentioned the name of a place from my premonitory murder nightmare.

His face lit with surprise at the same time orange embers drifted up from the flames he’d stoked and sparkled like gems of topaz and citrine. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Only recently. It seems many things have come to light only recently. I don’t know if it's a coincidence, or if I’m losing my mind.”

“Nothing is coincidence, Farryn. Everything has meaning.” Those words again. The same words my father had said to me. Ones that had become a mantra throughout the course of my life. “I’m surprised you’re even aware of Praecepsia’s existence.”

“Why do you say that? Is it not a real place?”

“Depends on who you ask. Some say it never existed. And others believe it was burned to the ground by a Sentinel.” Sighing, he set the feather down, and what appeared to be a skull face in the flames wavered and floated up with the embers.

Blinking, I stared back at the fire again, but saw nothing more than the mesmerizing flame. Weird. “So … the Sentinel succumbed to evil, then.”

“Perhaps. We don’t really know the circumstances, as it was many centuries ago.”

“If Nightshade is where the Fallen walk freely, then why did my father insist on going there?”

“Because it is also the place where the lost go after death.”

“The lost?”

“Those who believe in neither Heaven, nor Hell.”

“But my father believed in both.”

“Yes. However, your mother did not.” The knowing gaze he shot back at me felt like an Xray looking right through me. It was true, my mother didn’t grow up religious. She attended church with my father for his sake, but never because she’d actually bought into any of it.

“These humans in Nightshade. How do they get there?”

“Some choose to be there. Others don’t have a choice, at all.”

With every question he answered, a dozen more blossomed inside my head. “Those who choose, how does it happen?”

“There are only two ways the living can traverse. They’re either stolen by the Fallen. Or they come to me.”

“And how do you traverse?”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” He chuckled and reached for what had to be cold tea by that point, his comment setting my teeth on edge.

“Do you think my father is there? In Nightshade?”

“Hard to say.” An unpleasant scratching sound drew my eyes to where he circled the rim of the teacup with his nail.