Breath of Angel Read Free Page A

answers for what they’ve seen.”
    “You have answers?” asked Hanni.
    “Some.” Benasin gently lifted the corpse and laid it back on the bier. “To start, few angels have wings. This one happens to be an Erielyon, one of the lower ranks of angels. A simple messenger. Erielyon are the only winged angels.”
    Iona stepped gingerly toward the bier. “I’ve never seen an angel before.”
    “How would you know, if they don’t have wings?” asked Nuri.
    “I wish I had wings.” Peron snuggled up to Melaia and put her thumb in her mouth.
    “That would make you the lowest rank,” said Nuri. “I’d rather be higher.”
    “How many ranks are there?” Melaia stroked Peron’s silky hair.
    Benasin eyed Hanni. “You’ve not schooled your charges in the histories?”
    “It’s all I can do to train them in herbs and rites. We’ve little time for histories. As for angels, they should stay in tales.” Hanni sank to the bench at the brazier and stared weary eyed at the stranger.
    “But the tale of the Wisdom Tree,” said Melaia. “Is it in the histories? Is it true?”
    “The part about no more angels in the world is obviously wrong,” said Iona.
    The girls began guessing which parts of the tale were true, which false. Hanni flapped her hands at them as if shooing chicks. “Off with you now. To your prayers and pallets.”
    As Melaia herded the girls out, Hanni caught her arm. “You’ll be wanted here,” she said. “Iona will take charge.”
    Melaia followed Hanni to the bier, where Benasin was examining the angel’s wounds. Melaia cringed at the sight of the gashes. Even though she had cleansed them, it took all her willpower to keep from turning away.
    “Hanamel told me about the hawk.” Benasin glanced at Melaia. “You saw the attack?”
    “Hanni was at a birthing. The girls came running when they heard the screams. I don’t know how much they saw, but …” She bit her lip. A hawkman sounded imaginary. Yet before tonight angels had existed only in legend. “The man who was here tonight is the hawk that killed the angel.”
    Benasin’s face hardened. “You’re sure?” He searched her eyes.
    “His face was scratched, and he limped,” said Melaia. “It was my doing. I chased away the hawk with a stick.”
    A smile flickered at the corners of Benasin’s mouth. “Shameful, being beaten away by a priestess.” He drew the sheet over the Erielyon’s chest.
    “But a hawk who becomes a man?” Hanni shook her head. “It can’t be.”
    “You’re right,” said Benasin. “He’s more likely a man who becomes a hawk.”
    “Wonderful.” Hanni held up her hands in exasperation. “Why now, Benasin? Why here?”
    “Should I know the why of it?” he asked.
    Hanni shook a finger at him. “Don’t trifle with me. You’re one of them. You’re—” She glanced at Melaia.
    Benasin raised his eyebrows.
    Hanni’s gaze locked onto Benasin’s. “You’re an angel, and you know more than you’re saying.”
    Melaia stared at Benasin. “Do you have wings?”
    He glanced over his shoulder. “I had none the last time I looked.”
    “Benasin is not an Erielyon,” said Hanni.
    “Angels are of different races,” said Benasin. “For the most part they move about undetected.”
    “And they live extremely long lives,” said Hanni.
    “But they can be killed.” Melaia eyed the Erielyon.
    “True,” said Benasin. “Angels can be killed in physical form, which is how most appear in the world these days. But if they can avoid getting themselveskilled, then, as far as I know, their time here is unlimited. I tend to think of myself as immortal.” Benasin stroked his close-trimmed beard. “This winged one was no doubt a messenger. Did he say anything before he died?”
    “He tried.” Melaia shivered at the memory of his vibrating spirit. “He carried a pack.” She retrieved it from the shelf and handed it to Benasin.
    He drew out a thin, palm-sized wooden box.
    “A money box,” said