"She died in my arms, Daniel. Because I didn't know any better than to follow Miss Sophia to this torture chamber." Luce looked at all three of them. "Because none of you told me anything."
"Okay," Daniel said. "We'll make things as right for Penn as we can. But then we need to get you far away from here."
A gust of wind filtered down from the gash in the ceiling, causing the candles to flicker and making the remaining shards of glass in the broken window sway. In the next moment, they fell in a rain of sharp splinters.
Just in time, Gabbe glided off the altar and came to stand at Luce's side. She seemed unfazed. "Daniel's right," she said. "The truce we called after the battle applies only to angels. And now that so many know about the" — she paused, clearing her throat—"um, change in your mortality status, there are a lot of bad ones out there who'll be interested in you."
Arriane's wings lifted her off the ground. "And a lot of good ones who will come out to help fend them off," she said, gliding toward Luce's other side as if to reassure her.
"I still don't get it," Luce said. "Why does it matter so much? Why do I matter so much? Is it just because Daniel loves me?"
Daniel sighed. "That's part of it, as innocent as it sounds."
"You know everyone loves to hate a happy pair of lovebirds," Arriane chimed in.
"Honey, this is a very long story," Gabbe told her, the voice of reason. "We can only give it to you a chapter at a time."
"And like with my wings," Daniel added, "you'll have to awaken to a lot of it on your own."
"But why?" Luce asked. This conversation was so frustrating. She felt like a child being told she would get it when she was older. "Why can't you just help me understand?"
"We can help," Arriane said, "but we can't unload everything on you at once. Like how you're never supposed to shock a sleepwalker into wakefulness. It's too dangerous."
Luce wrapped her arms around herself. "It would kill me," she said, offering up the words the rest of them were circumventing.
Daniel put his arms around her. "It has before. And you've had enough close encounters with death for one night."
"So what? Now I just have to leave school?" She turned to Daniel. "Where will you take me?"
His brow furrowed, and he looked away from her. "I can't take you anywhere. It would draw too much attention. We're going to have to rely on someone else. There's one mortal here we can trust." He looked at Arriane.
"I'll get him," she said, rising.
"I won't leave you," Luce said to Daniel. Her lip quivered. "I've only just gotten you back."
CHAPTER 20. DAYBREAK
Dawn. The break of the last day Luce would see at Sword & Cross for—well, she didn't know how long. A single wild dove's coo rang out in the saffron sky as she stepped through the gym's kudzu-swathed doors. Slowly, she set off toward the cemetery, hand in hand with Daniel. They were quiet as they walked across the still grass of the commons.
Just before they'd left the chapel, one at a time, the others had retracted their wings. It was a sobering, laborious process that left them lethargic once they were back in human form. Watching the transformation, Luce couldn't believe how the massive, brilliant wings could turn so small and feeble, finally vanishing into the angels' skin.
When it was over, she'd run her hand over Daniel's bare back. For the first time, he seemed modest, sensitive to her touch. But his skin was as smooth and unblemished as a baby's. And in his face, in all of their faces, Luce could still see the silver light manifested inside them, shining out in all directions.
In the end, they'd carried Penn's body back up the steep stone stairs to the chapel, wiped the altar clean of glass, and laid her body there. There was no way they could bury her this morning—not with the cemetery teeming with mortals, as Daniel promised it would be.
It was agonizing for Luce to accept that she would have to settle for whispering a few last words to her friend inside the chapel. All she could think to say was "You're with your father now. I know he's happy to have you back."
Daniel would bury Penn properly as soon as the school calmed down—and Luce would show him where Penn's father's grave was so Penn could be laid to rest at his side. It was the very least she could do.
Her heart was heavy as they crossed the campus. Her jeans and tank top felt stretched out and dingy. Her fingernails needed a good scrub, and she was glad there were no mirrors around so she could see what was up with her hair. She wished so much that she could take back the dark half of the night—could have saved Penn, most of all—while keeping the beautiful parts. The climactic thrill of piecing Daniel's true identity together. The moment he appeared before her in all his glory. Witnessing Arriane and Gabbe growing their wings. So much of it had been so lovely.
So much of it had resulted in utter, bleak destruction.
She could feel it in the atmosphere, like an epidemic. She could read it on the faces of the many students roaming the commons. It was way too early for any of them to be awake of their own accord, which meant they must all have heard or seen or felt some of the battle that had taken place last night. What would they know? Would anyone be looking for Penn yet? For Miss Sophia? What could any of them possibly think had happened? Everyone was paired up and speaking in hushed whispers. Luce longed to linger close to them and eavesdrop.
"Don't worry." Daniel squeezed her hand. "Just imitate any of the baffled looks on their faces. No one will give us a second thought."
Though Luce felt entirely conspicuous, he was right. None of the other students' eyes lingered on the two of them any longer than they did on anyone else.
At the gates of the cemetery, blue and white police lights flashed, reflecting in the leaves of the oak trees overhead. The entrance had been marked off with yellow hazard tape.
Luce saw Randy's black silhouette outlined against the sunrise ahead of them. She was pacing before the cemetery's entrance and shouting into a Bluetooth clipped to the collar of her shapeless polo shirt.
"I think you should wake him up," she yelled into the device. "There's been an incident at the school. I keep telling you… I don't know."
"I should warn you," Daniel told her as he steered her away from Randy and the blinking lights of the cop cars, through the oak grove that bordered the cemetery on three sides. "It will look strange to you down there. Cam's style of warfare is messier than ours. It's not gory, it's just… different."
Luce didn't think much could alarm her at this point. A few toppled statues certainly weren't going to set her off. They picked their way through the forest, brittle fall leaves crunching beneath their feet. Luce thought about how, the night before, these trees had been consumed by the thundering locust-shadow cloud. There was no trace of them now.
Soon, Daniel gestured to a badly bent segment of the cemetery's wrought iron fence.
"We can enter there without being seen. We'll have to be quick about it."
Stepping out from the shelter of the trees, Luce slowly understood what Daniel meant about the cemetery looking different. They stood at the rim, not far from Penn's father's grave at the east corner, but it was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them. The air above the grounds was so murky it might not even have qualified as air. It was thick and gray and gritty, and Luce had to fan her hands through it just to see in front of her face.
She rubbed her fingers together. "Is this—"
"Dust," Daniel said, taking her hand as they walked. He was able to see through it, didn't have to choke and cough it out of his lungs as Luce did. "In war, angels don't die. But their battles leave this thick carpet of dust in their wake."