Thomas shuddered. “Intolerably,” he said.
Sheba gestured back toward the tent. “Have you come to join us for dinner?” she asked. “I assure you, angela, there is plenty of room. Come inside. You’ll see.”
“No, you can’t steal her. She is dining with me,” Thomas said. “But she did come here looking for you.”
Sheba smiled at the angel with complete unselfconsciousness. “For me? I will be glad to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, but now I’m not sure you can,” Alleya said. “I was looking for a man who would have been your brother, a man about my age. But Thomas says there is no such man.”
“There was a boy born to my parents three years before my birth,” Sheba said readily. “But he died when I was two years old. He ate some poisonous flowers that bloomed on the northern slopes of the Verde Divide. I have never seen those flowers anywhere else.”
“No, that is the only place they grow,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “A sad tale, though I have heard it before.” He turned to Alleya and made a little nod of apology. “I’m sorry, Alleya, I was wrong. There was a son. I am embarrassed that I did not know of him.”
“My parents missed the Gatherings for many of those first years they were together,” Sheba explained. “My father spent that time working for the Manadavvi. He wanted to be a landowner, my mother said, and he thought he might earn enough money to buy a farm in Gaza.”
“From the Manadavvi?” Alleya said, and she could not keep the edge from her voice. “They give up land to no one.”
Sheba smiled at her. “That’s what my father eventually learned, and so my mother finally persuaded him to return to the Edori way. I remember none of this, of course, but my mother told me the stories many times.”
“And you have no other brothers?” Alleya asked. “Your father—Cyrus—he had no other sons?”
Sheba shook her head. “None that were ever mentioned to me. I don’t think there could have been any. My father was a very loving man who could not stand to be away from his daughters for more than a day. I don’t think he could have left any child behind.”
“Well, then…” Alleya said, and let her voice trail off. She knew she should be deeply disappointed, even anxious, because she had nowhere else to look for the mysterious son of Jeremiah. But instead she felt relieved, almost exuberant, freed from a sentence of drudgery. It was hard to understand. She did not pause to analyze. “Thank you, anyway. I’m sorry to have kept you from your family for nothing.”
Now Sheba’s smile was radiant. “It was not nothing to meet you!” she exclaimed. “I wish you would stay for dinner. I think you would like Laban and my sisters. And I am an excellent cook.”
“Thank you again, but I promised Thomas—”
“Tomorrow night, then,” Sheba urged. “We will have venison cooked in wine—”
“I don’t plan to stay through tomorrow,” Alleya said. “But perhaps some other time—and I do thank you.”
It took a few more exchanges along these lines before Sheba finally let them go, and Alleya followed Thomas back through the narrow alleys to his own tent. It was now full dark and the damp air was thoroughly chilly. Alleya was pleased to see that the large communal campfire a few feet from Thomas’s tent was strong enough to beat back both the cold and the dark. A few shadowy shapes moved around its edges, setting up logs to be used as seats and arranging food in convenient sites.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Thomas said. “I misled you when I invited you to dinner, for Martha and I share our fire with the Canbellas and the Malotas and any strays who care to join us, and there are always several of those. I’ll have to introduce you to everyone. And this week we have had three more visitors join our campfire, and I’ll introduce you to them as well. Although something tells me that you may already know one or two of them.”
For Alleya was staring at a graceful, improbable shape outlined by the leaping firelight—the pristine arch of an angel’s folded wings, and the unlikeliest of all angels at that. Delilah stood between two men, her hands stretched out to touch each man lightly on the elbow, her head thrown back in a laugh of genuine delight. Alleya was dumbstruck.
A fresh shock was to follow instantly. For, “Noah!” Thomas called, and the angel and both her escorts turned to face him. One was an Edori man Alleya had not met before, and the other was Caleb Augustus.
If someone had told him Jovah would be joining the Edori campfire that night, Caleb could not have been more surprised to see a visitor appear. For a moment, he truly thought he had conjured the angel by sheer force of longing, for he had been thinking of her a great deal the past few days. That, or he was hallucinating on the strong wine someone had pressed on him a few minutes before. It could not possibly be the Archangel come to join them at the Edori campsite in Breven.
But then he heard Delilah’s musical, sarcastic voice say, “Why, Alleya! You do show up in the oddest places,” and the dark-haired woman stepped forward to greet the blond one. “Can it be just coincidence, this second time, or have you been searching for me?”
“Coincidence, this time,” Alleya said, her voice a little muffled. She, too, appeared to be wrestling with disbelief. “It had not occurred to me that you would have any business here.”
“No business—merely pleasure,” Delilah said lightly. “I take it you came on some grave mission?”
“I was looking—it’s not important,” the Archangel replied, and Caleb thought he saw a flutter of embarrassment briefly decorate her face. “I came on an errand and plan to stay only for the meal. What about you? Are you staying long?”
“I don’t quite know,” Delilah said, and now she affected a languid tone. “My friends came to—do something mechanical, I think—and I have no idea how long they’re staying. I, as you might imagine, am purely ornamental. But I’m dependent on their transport.”
“Transport?” Alleya repeated neutrally.
“It’s the most amazing vehicle! I’m sure they’d give you a ride in it if you asked them, although it’s not as much fun as you might think. Noah invented it—by the way, do you know Noah? I believe you’ve met Caleb.”
Alleya’s eyes flickered to Caleb, then back to Delilah. “No, I haven’t met Noah. But I’ve heard of him.” She stepped forward as Delilah made the introductions, offering her hand. Caleb watched as the Edori reluctantly took it. “You have a friend in Velora who mentioned your name to me,” Alleya said, smiling. “His name is Daniel, but his clan escapes me.”
Noah managed to return a small smile. “Oh, yes! Daniel and I go way back. We were always inventing wheels and tools and odd gadgets to make camp life a little easier.”
Thomas bustled forward, clapping one hand on Noah’s shoulder, offering the other to the Archangel. “Time enough to visit when your plate’s full,” he said, urging them back into the circle of firelight. “Can’t you see everyone else is eating? All the food will be gone if you just stand here talking!”
Once more Alleya’s eyes found Caleb’s, once more she looked away. “Yes, I’m quite hungry now,” she said with her usual courtesy. “Everything smells so good.”
There was a general jostling at the food tables as the five of them joined the other latecomers and those returning to the big pots and cauldrons to take their second helpings. Unobtrusively, Caleb maneuvered himself behind Alleya at the serving table, and he was hard on her heels as she moved over to the campfire, looking for a place to sit.
“Here,” he said, touching her on the arm. She started so violently, she almost dropped her plate. He responded with a crooked grin. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.
Now she smiled. “Not frightened,” she murmured, “taken unaware. Is this where you think we should sit?”
It was a half-sawn log draped with a ragged quilt, and it looked a little more comfortable than some of the other perches; more than that, it was separated by a few feet from the other makeshift seating, offering what passed in the Edori camp for
privacy. Alleya settled herself carefully, balancing her plate in one hand and spreading her wings behind her. Caleb flopped less gracefully beside her.
“Tell me,” he said, before she had a chance to speak a word, “what can you possibly be doing here?”
She had taken a bite of food. Maybe he imagined the mischief in her eyes as she took her time about chewing and swallowing. “But I was following you, of course,” she said at last.
So he had read the mischief right. “As glad as I would be to hear that,” he said dryly, “I cannot believe it’s true. But if you don’t want to tell me—”
“Oh, it’s not a secret,” she said. “I was looking for a man whom Jovah had identified—had not, as it turns out, identified very well—but he isn’t here. Apparently he died as a child.”
Caleb shook his head. “That is not a lucid explanation. Why did Jovah single him out? And how did he? And if he’s dead—well, what was the point?”
“Exactly,” she said on a long sigh. “And if this man wasn’t the one Jovah wanted, then who am I really looking for?”
His expression must have been pained, for Alleya laughed and launched into a fuller explanation. “I went to the oracles to ask Jovah about all our recent troubles—storm, flood—you know what I mean. I asked if anyone on Samaria could help us solve these problems, and he told us to look for one of the descendants of the Archangel Gabriel. And the oracle Mary and I were able to eliminate most of them for one reason or another, but he did say that this man Cyrus—who was a descendant—had taken an Edori woman as a mate, and that they’d had a son. And I thought this son might be the man we wanted. But he’s dead.”
Caleb was still confused; he was convinced she was leaving out vital parts of the story, but he didn’t want to press her if she preferred not to tell him. “You were talking to Jovah?” he asked instead. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Well, not face-to-face,” she said, laughing. “We weren’t actually speaking. Haven’t you ever been to see one of the oracles?” He shook his head. “Well, all of their retreats have these amazing”—her hands described a square—“panels of glass, except it’s not just glass. There’s a light behind the glass and it’s all connected to some strange machine. It’s called an interface. And you can form letters on this interface to ask Jovah questions, and then you wait a while, and his answers appear. It’s the most incredible thing.”
His mind was racing, trying to fit this description into some familiar context; but it literally made no sense to him. “I can’t even guess how something like that might work,” he said. “I can’t even visualize it. And you say you can ask Jovah—anything?—and he answers? Just like that?”
“Well, sometimes he answers in a more direct way than at other times,” Alleya said, and he detected a slight note of bitterness in her voice. “Lately his answers have been very—how can say?—circuitous. Open to interpretation. But he does answer.”
“Can anybody go up to him and ask him questions?”
“No, of course not! You must ask through an oracle, because they’re the only ones who know how the interface works—and they’re the only ones who know the language Jovah speaks.” Alleya fell abruptly silent as she said the last words, then tossed her head as if to shake away a worry. “But if you’d like to see this for yourself, I’ll take you sometime to visit Job at Mount Egypt.”
“I would like to very much,” he said, smiling down at her. “I would be interested in witnessing a communication from the god.”
“And would that make you a believer?” she asked softly.
“Well, it might. But I won’t make any promises, angela.”
She touched the gold clasp in her hair. He had noticed immediately that she was wearing it. “Angela?” she repeated. “You called me Alleya when you left me this.”
“I’m more of a coward in person,” he admitted.
“Aren’t we all. But I wanted to thank you for the gift. It was very thoughtful.”
“Not brazen?”
She laughed. “From the adventurous outspoken Caleb Augustus? I thought it was restrained.”
He was grinning broadly. “Just wait,” he promised. “See what I buy you in Breven.”
“I won’t be here long enough to qualify for presents. I’ll be leaving tomorrow at first light.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Well, I didn’t think I could turn down the meal, but as soon as I’m done here I’ll head on back into the city and find a hotel.”
“You can’t do that!” he exclaimed. “Alone—in Breven!”
She looked amused. “I hardly think anyone will mistreat me. Unlike our gentle friends here, I think most everyone in the city will recognize me and handle me with caution.”
He shook his head again. “It’s not like Luminaux, or Velora, or even the river cities. Breven is—it’s a nasty place. Especially at night. Especially for a woman. Alleya, they don’t even let their women out of the house during the day.”
“Well, but I think I’ll—”
“Here’s where you’ve been hiding!” a voice came booming out of the darkness. Caleb glanced up quickly to find that Thomas, Noah and Delilah had strolled the perimeter of the fire, presumably to find them. “I can’t believe the nerve of you allali men! I invited the angel to join my campfire, and you’ve monopolized her all night.”
“Happily, it would appear,” Delilah murmured.
Caleb was on his feet. “Thomas, tell her,” he said urgently. “She can’t return alone to Breven tonight.”
Thomas’s bantering tone instantly vanished. “No, angela, it really isn’t safe,” he said. “We allow even our children to roam free in Luminaux, but in Breven—no one goes about alone, even by daylight. Surely you weren’t thinking of leaving tonight?”
Alleya, looking exasperated, rose slowly, fanning her wings behind her. “Thank you for your concern,” she said. “But I think I’ll be just fine. I’m used to traveling alone.”
But Delilah, of all people, was shaking her head. “I wouldn’t, Alleya,” she said with unwonted seriousness. “Not Breven. The Jansai are not much to be trusted.”
“But then—I suppose I could fly back tonight, as far as Castelana, maybe… .”
“Angela!” Thomas exclaimed. “Of course you will stay right here! There is always room for one more. In fact, we would be insulted if you left.”
Alleya cast a quick, despairing glance around the densely packed campsite. Caleb had never heard her say so, but he would guess she was not a woman who enjoyed a crowd. “I do not like to trade so much on your hospitality…” she began, and Delilah laughed aloud.
“Poor Alleya! She’s too polite to say that she can’t sleep in a tent with more than a dozen people in it. You can stay with me, all right? I’ve been given a tent all to myself, as a special mark of favor. It’s small, but I think the two of us will fit.”
Caleb caught Noah’s swift look at Delilah, but the angel appeared oblivious. Ah—probably she had just scotched a rendezvous, Caleb decided, and thought better of her for making the sacrifice on Alleya’s behalf. Alleya, on the other hand, looked trapped and unhappy, but she made a valiant effort to cover her unease.
“Well, then—what can I say?” she responded, essaying a smile. “You have convinced me. Thank you for your offers—Thomas, Delilah—and I will certainly stay the night. I do appreciate your concern.”
Thomas brought his hands together in a single slap of applause. “Good! That’s settled. Now it’s time for singing.”
As Caleb had learned during the past two days in camp, singing was a nightly occurrence and one that the Edori approached with exuberance. Everyone joined in, or at least came together in the center of the camp to listen. Already the other diners, finished with their meals, were gathering around the most central of the campfires, dragging mats or pillows or small logs with them to sit on. Thomas ushered before him Martha, Noah, Caleb and the two angels, making sure they all had prime seats in the in
ner ring closest to the fire. Caleb found himself between Noah and the Archangel; Delilah sat on the other side of Noah, and Thomas and Martha on the other side of Alleya.
“So what happens next?” Alleya murmured to Caleb.
“It’s very informal,” he replied in an undertone. “Whoever feels like singing will rise to his feet, look around to make sure no one else is also standing, and then launch into whatever song moves him.”
“Do they sing masses?”
“Not that I’ve ever heard. Or maybe they have their own version of sacred music, but I haven’t been able to identify it.”
“Do they—” Alleya began, but instantly fell silent as two young women stood and glanced around the fire. When they had verified that they had the stage, one of the girls nodded three times to give her friend the count, and they began singing at exactly the same moment. Caleb listened appreciatively. These two had sung on the night of his arrival, and he remembered distinctly the sweetness of their blended voices and the plaintive thread of the melody. Thomas had told him that the oldest one was the songwriter, and Caleb had been impressed. She did not look more than fourteen years old.
He glanced at Alleya to see how she liked the music. She was leaning slightly forward, hands braced on her knees, listening intently. When the girls hit a particularly beautiful harmonic, he saw Alleya’s head arc backward slightly, as if she’d been struck, and then she smiled faintly. Yes, the Archangel was enjoying the concert.
Enthusiastic applause greeted the end of the song, and another singer was on his feet before the last few cheers had died away. This was a man about Caleb’s age, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with a light, polished voice and a penchant for lively tunes. He, too, had entertained them a couple of nights ago. When he finished, a woman rose to stand beside him, and the two of them sang a rollicking duet that had everyone in the audience laughing and clapping along. They also were zealously applauded after the last note.
The next several singers turned to more sober music—love songs, lullabies and ballads. Caleb remembered hearing Noah sing one of these while they were on the road, and he glanced over at his friend to see if he recognized it. Noah, however, did not seem to be paying much attention. He had leaned over and was whispering in Delilah’s ear. But the angel stared straight before her and did not appear to be listening. Caleb swung his eyes back around to the performers.