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Stopping in front of the shelf with the employee cards, I pulled out mine and then held it out to the fancy bird perched on a golden branch on top of a column right next to the door. Her feathers ranging from hues of orange and red to midnight blue, with a lovely magenta thrown in as well, Karoz tilted her head, the feather crest on the top rising inquisitively.
“Punch me out, please,” I said.
She uttered a lovely chirp and then bit into the card I held out, marking the spot beside the hole where she’d punched me in earlier.
“Thank you.” I saluted her with the card. “See you tomorrow.”
Karoz trilled in answer.
I stashed the card again, threw open the large wooden doors, and stalked out of the stable building. Outside, facing the view of the rolling purple plains and meadows dotted with the white sparkles of unicorns underneath a sky caught in eternal sunset—or dawn, depending on one’s interpretation—I took a deep breath. And while that would have normally relaxed me a bit, with the usual notes of honey and lavender in the air, this time I coughed and gagged at the stink of unicorn manure that wafted up from me.
Right. I was still covered in shit.
Gritting my teeth, I forced my wings from my back. They appeared with a whoosh and a tingle of magic running over my skin, and I shook them out and stretched them once. One might think appendages that were magicked away most of the time and only appeared corporeal when summoned wouldn’t get sore while they were tucked away. Alas, that was not how things worked. My wings tended to feel stiff when I called them, and it usually took a few minutes of stretching or flying for them to become less tender.
“Here we go,” I muttered, and then I took off running.
In a maneuver that resembled a jacked-up parkour, I jumped, dashed, and heaved myself up the sides of the stable building, using my wings as help, until I’d scaled my way up to the gently sloped roof. There, I caught my breath for a second, my boots crunching on the slate tiles, before I ran toward the edge and launched myself into the air. My wings beat hard, my muscles straining, but then I caught an air current—and I soared.
To my embarrassment and the unending mockery by fellow angels, I still couldn’t manage a vertical takeoff.
I might have been made an angel, with all the bells and whistles that went along with it, such as fast healing, wings, some powers, and the general physical requirements to fly. But what it didn’t say in the New Angel Manual that they’d never given me was that this whole wing deal didn’t come with the innate knowledge of how to fly. No, I’d had to learn that part, like a fledgling bird.
And, like some bird species do with their young in order to teach them how to use their wings, my angel superiors had thrown me off a branch when they’d started my flight training. Or rather, off a high building, in my case.
Unlike a baby bird, I wouldn’t die if I crashed onto the ground; I’d only hurt myself. A lot. But, hey, I healed fast, right? Which was why my coaches hadn’t had any scruples about repeatedly pushing me off high buildings. Either I’d healed quickly on my own from minor injuries, or they’d mended any more-serious damage with their powers.
Not getting hurt anymore by crashing down again had been a really powerful incentive for me to learn how to fly, and I’d managed eventually.
The vertical takeoff, however, was my nemesis. I just couldn’t do it. My muscles were still too weak. According to my flight coaches, though, it was all in my head.
So I had to resort to using whatever higher perches I could find to give me a bit of a lift, like just now with the stable roof. Once I was airborne, though, I was free.
Flying was the absolute best thing about being an angel. The sheer exhilaration of soaring high above the ground, unbound and unburdened, the wind caressing my wings, was beyond words. I never felt as strong, as wild and carefree as I did when I defied gravity and hurtled across the sky.
The barn shrank to miniature size far below me, a speck of charcoal gray among the sea of white-dotted purple plains. Everything dwindled away, worries and constraints falling off me more and more with each powerful beat of my wings. Nothing mattered anymore, not the demands placed upon me, the strict schedule that chafed like an ill-fitting chain, the rules and regulations that pressed and pressed upon me until I thought I might choke. None of that mattered up here. Beneath this hauntingly beautiful sky, it was only me and the wind and the feeling of vast, open spaces.
Sadly, today was not the day to linger up here. As much as I enjoyed dancing with the breeze, doing so covered in excrement dimmed the pleasure just a touch.
So instead of riding the wind further, I angled my wings to take me back to Derdekea’s estate proper, and soon the sprawling set of buildings made of glistening white stone came into view. The main house was a thing of filigree beauty, with slender columns and elaborately carved designs decorating corners and spires. High windows would allow the warm hues of the sunset sky to flood the rooms, and there were balconies and terraces galore from which to take flight or land on. I’d seen pictures of cathedrals on Earth, their gothic architecture a feast for the eyes, but Derdekea’s mansion put them to shame.
I didn’t veer toward the main house, though, but instead dove for the set of smaller buildings to the right. An estate like Derdekea’s required a veritable army of staff to keep it running, and most of the lower-ranking angels in her service had their accommodations in these side buildings, out of the way of the mansion proper. Only the higher-ranked angels—seraphim, cherubim, and thrones—warranted a suite in the main house, where they were closer to the comings and goings of visiting angels and the pleasantries of the main household.
Those of the lower ranks—dominions, virtues, powers, and principalities—lived in the outer buildings, and most of us didn’t get a room of our own, let alone a suite. No, we had to share our “private” quarters with another angel. Private, my ass.
As a virtue, I only had one roommate, so at least I had that going for me. Still, my roomie sure made me wish I had just a tad more power and could rise through the ranks to dominion, which, among other rights, came with the privilege of a room all to myself. That alone was motivation enough for me to try to work my way up.
I landed in the courtyard between the different staff buildings, tucked away my wings with a thought, and proceeded to march into the house where I lived. Made of white stone like the main mansion, it echoed the estate’s overall style, though it featured fewer intricate carvings and decorations. It was more functional, after all, and less meant to impress visitors.
The dark wooden door gave way to a corridor wide enough to allow two angels to pass each other with their wings out. Skylights in the roof let in the shimmering colors of the never-ending sunset, which painted the white stone of the hallway in a sumptuous symphony of light. To the left and right, doors led to individual rooms.
I passed several other angels on the way, all of them breaking out in a gagging fit as my eau de merde hit their noses.
“By God,” someone croaked.
“I can’t breathe,” came another strangled voice from behind me.
I would have actually enjoyed the whole thing if it weren’t ruining my own olfactory sense, too.
