She looked up at Daniel, her eyes filled with tears.
“What’s happening?”
He glanced at Arriane. “Get Luce inside.” She felt her arms being lifted. “You’ll be okay, kiddo,” Arriane said. “Promise.”
The dark wood door of the hut opened and a warm light poured out from within. Peering out at the wet angels was the calm, collected face of Steven Filmore, Lu-ce’s favorite teacher from Shoreline.
“Glad you could make it,” Daniel said.
“Same to you.” Steven’s voice was steady and professorial, just as Luce remembered. Somehow it was reassuring.
“Is she all right?” Steven asked.
No. She was losing it.
“Yes.” Daniel’s confidence took Luce by surprise.
“What happened to her neck?”
“We ran into some Scale in Vienna.”
Luce was hallucinating. She was not all right. Trembling, she met Steven’s eyes. They were steady, comforting.
You are all right. You have to be. For Daniel.
Steven held open the door and led them inside. The small hut had a dirt floor and straw roof, a heap of blankets and rugs in one corner, a crude cooking stove near the fire, and a square of four rocking chairs in the center of the room.
Standing in front of the chairs was Francesca—
Steven’s wife and the other Nephilim teacher at Shoreline. Phil and the other three Outcasts stood alert along the opposite wall of the hut. Annabelle, Roland, Arriane, Daniel, and Luce all crammed into the firelit warmth of the house.
“What now, Daniel?” Francesca asked, all business.
“Nothing,” Daniel said quickly. “Nothing yet.” Why not? Here they were on the fields of Troy, near the place where Lucifer was expected to land. They’d raced here to stop him. Why go through everything they’d gone through this week just to sit around a cabin and wait?
“Daniel,” Luce said. “I could use some explanation.” But Daniel only looked to Steven.
“Please have a seat.” Steven steered Luce to one of the rocking chairs. She sank into it, and nodded thanks when he handed her a metal cup of spicy Turkish apple tea. He gestured around at the hut. “It isn’t much, but it keeps the rain and most of the wind out, and you know what they say—”
“Location, location, location,” Roland finished, leaning on the arm of the rocking chair where Arriane had curled up across from Luce.
Annabelle looked around at the rain wailing on the window, at the cramped room. “So this is the Fall site? I mean, I can kind of feel it, but I don’t know if that’s because I’m trying so hard. This is weird. ” Steven was polishing his glasses on his fisherman’s sweater. He slipped them back onto his nose, resuming his professorial tone. “The Fall site is very large, Annabelle. Think of the space required for one hundred and fifty million, eight hundred and twenty-seven thousand, eight hundred and sixty-one—”
“You mean one hundred and fifty million, eight hundred and twenty-seven thousand, seven hundred and forty-six—” Francesca interrupted.
“Of course, there are discrepancies.” Steven always humored his beautiful, combative wife. “The point is many angels fell, so the impact site is vast.” He glanced, very quickly, at Luce. “But yes, you are sitting in a portion of the place where the angels fell to Earth.”
“We followed the old broad’s map,” Cam said, poking at the fire in the stove. It had burned down to cin-ders, but his touch brought it roaring back to life. “But I still wonder how we know for sure that this is it. There’s not much time left. How do we know?” Because I’m seeing visions of it, Luce’s mind suddenly screamed. Because somehow, I was there.
“I’m glad you asked.” Francesca spread a scroll of parchment on the floor between the rocking chairs. “The Nephilim library at Shoreline has one map of the Fall site. The map was drawn at so close a range that until someone could determine a geographical location, it could have been anywhere.”
“It might as well have been an ant farm,” Steven added. “We’ve been awaiting Daniel’s signal since Luce came back through the Announcers, tracking your progress, trying to stay within reach for when you needed us.”
“The Outcasts found us at our winter home in Cairo just after midnight.” Francesca drew her shoulders together, as if warding off a shudder. “Luckily, this one had your pennon or we might have—”
“His name is Phillip. The Outcasts are with us now,” Daniel said.
It was strange that Phil had posed as a student at Shoreline for months and Francesca didn’t recognize him. Then again, the snobbish angel teacher paid attention only to the “gifted” students at the school.
“I’d hoped you would be able to make it in time,” Daniel said. “How were things at Shoreline when you left?”
“Not good,” Francesca said. “Worse for you, I’m sure, but still, not good for us. The Scale came through Shoreline on Monday.”
Daniel’s jaw clenched. “No.”
“Miles and Shelby,” Luce gasped. “Are they okay?”
“Your friends are all fine. They couldn’t find anything to charge us with—”
“That’s right,” Steven said proudly. “My wife runs a tight ship. Above reproach.”
“Still,” Francesca said. “The students were very alarmed. Some of our biggest donors pulled their children from the school.” She paused. “I hope this is worth it.”
Arriane shot to her feet. “You bet your bangles it will be worth it.”
Roland stood up quickly and tugged Arriane back to her seat. Steven took Francesca’s arm and pulled her over to the window. Soon everyone was whispering and Luce didn’t have enough strength to hear more than Arriane’s loud “I got her big donation right here.” Out the window, the slenderest band of russet light hugged the mountains. Luce stared at it, her stomach knotted, knowing it marked the sunrise of the eighth day, the last full day before—
Daniel’s hand was on her shoulder, warm and strong.
“How are you doing, there?”
“I’m fine.” She sat up straighter, feigning alertness.
“What do we need to do next?”
“Sleep.”
She straightened her shoulders. “No, I’m not tired.
The sun’s rising, and Lucifer—”
Daniel leaned over the rocking chair and kissed her forehead. “It will go better if you’re rested.” Francesca looked up from her conversation with Steven. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“If she’s tired, she needs to sleep. A few hours won’t hurt. We’re already here.”
“But I’m not tired.” She protested, but it was obvious she was lying.
Francesca swallowed. “I guess you’re right. It’s either going to happen or it’s not.”
“What does she mean?” Luce asked Daniel.
“Nothing,” he said softly. Then, turning to Fran cesca, he said very quietly, “It’s going to happen.” He lifted Luce enough so he could slide into the rocking chair beside her. He wrapped his arms around her waist. The last things she felt were his kiss on her temple and his whisper in her ear. “Let her have one last sleep.”
“Are you ready?”
Luce stood beside Daniel in a fallow plot of farmland outside the white hut. Mist rose from the soil, and the sky was the sharp blue color of a heavy storm’s wake.
There was snow in the hills to the east, but the sloping plains of the valley exuded springlike warmth. Flowers bloomed on the fringes of the field. Butterflies were everywhere, white and pink and gold.
“Yes.”
Luce had been awake only an instant when she felt Daniel’s hand lift her from the rocking chair and out the door of the quiet hut. He must have held her in his arms all night.
“Wait,” she said. “Ready for what?”
The others were watching her, gathered in a circle as if they had been waiting, the angels and Outcasts all with their wings extended.
A cloud of storks crossed the sky, their black-tipped wings spread wide as palm fronds. Their flight darkened the sun for a moment, casting shadows on the angels’