thing to behold, to see the way the paths reverberate out through the whole of it.”
“What was Cal’s test?” I ask, suddenly not wanting to know. “How did he fall?”
Something flashes behind Michael’s dark eyes, but I don’t know what it is. “Calliel is the guardian angel to Roseland, Oregon,” he says. “He is the youngest angel in all of On High. Normally, when new townships are incorporated, they are enfolded into an existing angel’s territory to protect. One day, our Father let us know that a new angel would be created, and that his name would be Calliel. This was cause for celebration, and, I admit, consternation, as no new angels had been created for millennia. He was given Roseland and its people, and while he may have fumbled at times, he was good at what he did.” Michael shakes his head. “To be honest, he reminded me of me when I was his age. Overprotective of his charges. Desperate to please. Incapable of corruption.
“He existed quietly in this part of the world, on this plane of existence. He loved the people he watched over as he was supposed to. And that love was as it was supposed to be: a distant thing, a faraway thing that could never become more than that. But that changed.”
“Who did it change for?”
“You’re not that blind to the way of things, are you?” Michael asks with a smirk. “Me?” I say incredulously. “You’re talking about me?”
He cocks his head at me, an action so like his Strange Men I get goose bumps on my arms. “Of course I am. Who else would it be?”
“I… just… I don’t know.”
“From the moment you were born, Calliel watched you. It was a simple thing, at first. You were one of his charges, and he cared for you. He loved as he should. But then you began to grow, and those feelings changed. You have to understand, in terms of angels, Cal is still considered a teenager, if you will. He doesn’t have the tight rein on his emotions that one in his position should have. There have been a few small instances in the past that have come to this, but they’ve always been corrected on their own as such things are unrequited. We are not meant to love.”
“That’s… so sad,” I finish lamely. “You can love your Father and the people you watch over, but you can’t ever get close to someone?”
Michael’s eyes turn wistful for a moment, and I wonder if there’s a story there. “It’s the way of things, Benji. But Calliel changed that. He broke away from the pattern, the design. He allowed it to become something more. So Father did what he always did. He tested him.”
“How?”
Michael’s eyes burn darkly. “He gave him a choice. Either save your father and allow the man named Griggs to die, or allow your father to die and Griggs to live.”
Of all the things he could have said, what he did say is what I expected the least. I grip the arms of the white chair as anger begins to well in my chest like a bloom of fire. I want to leap across at the angel and put my hands around his throat until he takes it back. I want to tear the White Room down until it’s nothing but rubble underneath my fingers. I want to find God and make sure he pays for everything he’s done.
But most of all, I want to find Cal and tell him to return to On High. I want to tell him to never come back, to forget he ever knew my name. And after that, I never want to see him again, and I will find someplace to float off into the darkness. It’s the only way to keep me from killing him myself.
The White Room begins to shake a little, the walls and floor vibrating. I think I hear whispers all around me, but I can’t tell above the blood roaring in my ears. Michael doesn’t move, his eyes still on me, waiting.
“Why?” I manage to say.
“Because that is how my Father works. The tests aren’t ever something simple, with a choice to be made that won’t matter in the long run. What would be the point of such a thing?”
“This is my life!” I snarl at him. “This isn’t some fucking game!”
Michael’s not intimidated in the slightest at my fury. That sad smile makes an appearance again, as if he’s trying to show