He bends to collect the finger, picking it up with the edge of his thumb and index finger and deposits it on his desk.
“No catches?You’re not messing with me?”
“I’m an angel, Ignatius, not a demon.My motives are pure.”
His eyes narrow as he scans my face, searching.Perhaps for the lie his gut tells him I’m weaving.
“Now, shall we make you a devil?”I say, slicking my words with charm and allure.
And just like that, his arrogance pushes his doubts away and we create a prison fit for an angel.
35
Lucy
Iam an angel.
But I was meant to be a demon.
No.I’m neither of those things.
It takes me a moment to come back to reality.More and more, I am daydreaming or losing moments of time as I flit from one memory to another.
No, that’s not right.
They’re not mine.They’re Architecti’s or sometimes they’re Interitus’s.
I’m getting flickers of things that happened but in pieces and shreds.Nothing is coherent, and it’s making me fight with reality because every scene feels more real than the last.
I am six and Interitus ruins my playhouse made of light.I am a teen and my moth is taken.I am an adult stood in front of a mirror.I am confused, staring at my destiny.Stood atop Finis Tower, my hands twining with fate and the stars.Then I’m standing in a different position and the mirror is blank.
It’s too much.
I made a bad choice.Too much responsibility.I chose wrong.I ruined myself.
Trapped.Trapped.Trapped.
The tower suffocates me.
I am Architecti and I witness my fate to bear the weight of responsibility for stopping my sister.
As Interitus steps in front of the mirror, my heart, no, Architecti’s heart sinks.Her vision is of death and ruin.It’s always the same.I hoped for more.
The mirror is blank.Why is the mirror blank?
This dream is so real.Too real.It feels more like a memory.
I—no, Interitus—shoves her fist into the mirror in frustration.It shatters.
Midnight grips my arms.“Lucy, Ora to Lucy…”
I shake the images away.
“What did you see this time?”she asks.
“The Celestial Realm.Fragments of ceremonies.I’m not really sure.It’s all jumbled and I can’t hold on to the images for long enough to make sense of it.It’s like I need more control or power or I’m not sure.”
Midnight makes her way to the kitchen to put the kettle on.It’s still dark and I’ve lost all sense of time.
