Fallen

Chapter Twenty

"I cannot promise that he is here," Miles said for the fourth time in the last several hours.

"I know,"

"Nor can I promise his warm welcome,"

"I am aware that neither are guaranteed, Miles," Michael sighed.

The two companions had been mainly silent since first setting out on their mission. At first, Michael assumed this to be in part to the fact that they had already discussed at length the various issues, problems and possibilities over the previous week. At this point, anything said would merely be repetitious. Then, he considered the silence due to their mortal driver of the taxi they had hailed once exiting the Los Angeles Otherworld compound. As neither knew how to drive, and could hardly ask a member of the community to aid them in their quest, the only other option was a taxi cab. They did not wish to risk the human overhearing anything that would cause him to consider them insane.

But in the end, Michael decided that the silence was one of nervous tension. Although both other considerations true, the tightness in his abdomen was a clear sign to the uncertainty he felt. A feeling that he was just as confident was shared by Miles.

It was now early evening, the late days sun slowly lowering along the horizon, edging closer to the tops of the buildings in the distance. It seemed fitting to Michael that this meeting occur at such a time. Since everything he was and everything he felt was now riding on the opinion and decision of another, having it all culminate at the close of the day seemed fitting; since he may in turn be the close of his immortality.

After going to Harper that night almost a week before, and confessing his feelings, Michael had turned his attention to their salvation. He had allowed himself very little time to rejoice in the fact that Harper felt the same towards him as he did her, for fear that allowing that elation would only crush him further if it were to fail because he was unsuccessful in this pursuit.

He poured himself in to his task, looking back on old documents, trying to recall stories and history of Father Josiah. Of course, this all occurred at night, after his duties of the day to the council of the Fallen had finished. He was careful, meticulous in his impassivity, to ensure that Ariel did not become suspicious in his actions or his intentions. He was careful to avoid any situation which would require him to lie, as he knew he could not. He was cautious in his answers, in his responses, and focused in his own work towards the judging. Outwardly, it was as if nothing had changed.

But at times, when his guard dropped and his mind calmed, he would think of Harper and the flutter of happiness and excitement would brush against him, and he would feel weightless.

He had seen her only once since that night, in passing on the street. She had been with her mother, himself with Ariel. Of course, the two sides stopped and spoke. All very superficial, polite and expected. Michael was careful to look at Harper very little, for fear that his gaze would give him away. It felt as though a physical pain, however, to be this close to her, and unable to touch her. Unable to speak to her as he wished, and unable to taste her lips.

As they parted ways, he could not help glancing over his shoulder towards her. Finding her doing the same, the two smiled knowing grins. It was all he needed.

Several days had passed since Michael began his search for Father Josiah, and he had yet to find any trace. He knew little of the history, as his own experience was not in the realm of judgment. He knew only of what he was told during the course of his years, and what he had studied in preparation for this task.

He did not want to involve Miles in his betrayal. He knew to approach his friend, would be to risk his purity as equally as his own. But it did not seem as though Michael needed to ask, as late one night, Miles appeared at his door. Thick volume in hand, Miles slipped inside his room.