Paradise Made

Thirteen: Answers

 I was blown backwards off my feet, and my head hit the marble steps of the library. There was heat, massive and sudden, and screaming. The distant voices rang like they echoed towards me down a long hallway.

Struggling to my feet, shaking, I tried to understand what was happening. Finally, my eyes were drawn to the flames. They were massive, completely consuming the building they feasted on. It was one over from where we stood. The church was on fire. I stood, open mouthed, as the cross on the steeple broke, crashing down to the ground below with a showering of sparks.

“Xavier...” Clay grabbed my shoulder, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

“What the hell?” I asked, as the two of us stood watching the blase.

“I don't think this is a good sign,” Clay commented, and I had to agree.

Realizing how close we were to a massive fire, we quickly retreated from the library steps, joining the crowd of onlookers.

“I'm getting a pretty demon vibe from this,” Clay commented. “What better way to make a statement than this? I'm going to have to tell my uncle.”

Beside the stairs to the library, half submerged in shadow, Pen watched me. The pattern of the flickering flames was reflected across half his face, and he nodded when our eyes met. It was like he'd been waiting for me to notice him.

“Call your uncle,” I told Clay. “I'll be right back.”

Though the firefighters had set up a perimeter, they seemed to have ignored Pen. He moved so he sat on the steps of the library, in plain view, but they did nothing. I expected them to stop me as I pushed past the barricade, but no one said anything.

Nearing Pen, I realized how angry he was. His fists shook by his side, and his jaw was locked, teeth ground together.

“Did demons do this?” I asked him.

He nodded. “Filthy pit scum. I'd sooner bow to God again than work with them. The pure stupidity that would have lead to this.” He gestured towards the burning church.

“It is pretty disrespectful,” I commented. “To burn a church I mean.”

“I couldn't care less about the fucking church,” he spat.

And it was then that I realized where he was looking. The library. It loomed above us in all its glory.

“That's the problem with demons,” Pen said, “they never think about the collateral damage.”

Then, turning around, he began to head up the steps on which I'd first seen him.

“Wait,” I ran after him, “you can't go in there. It's already catching fire, look.”

On the side of the building facing the church, flames had began to take hold, and the firefighters weren't working fast enough.