The Dark Divine

Father Miguel says the winds are shifting in our favor. He thinks tomorrow the armada will be able to move in closer to the city walls. Perhaps the only good that might come from our forces taking the city is that I might be able to search the books of the great library for more texts on the subject of the Urbat. What jewels of knowledge must lie therein.

If not from the library, I must know more about these Hounds of Heaven. I will make preparations for the journey. My dear Alexius is reluctant to join me, but I will persuade him to go, for I need a translator. He seems to fear the Urbat more than any of the local boys. When pressed about the issue, all he utters is, The wolf seeks to kill what he loves the most

I dropped the book. It skittered across the hardwood floor. I leaned out of bed and gingerly picked it up. Little particles of yellowed paper sprinkled from the binding. I opened the book and found that the page I had just been reading and a few others had disintegrated under my absentminded handling. But my guilt for damaging the book was nothing compared to the other thought that crumpled my insides.

The wolf seeks to kill what he loves the most.

Did Daniel love me? He said I was special. He said I "did" things to him. He said he missed me--sort of. But he hadn't said he loved me.

But he'd kissed me like no one ever had. He made me want to tell him how I felt.

But I couldn't forget how he shook and the way his eyes glowed when I did. He'd lost his necklace momentarily, and he looked more frightened than I'd felt. Had I been in danger then? Had the wolf wanted to kill me? If Daniel didn't have that necklace, would I already be dead? Or would he have just turned me into a beast like him?

I put the book away. I could not handle any more questions--or answers--for a long time.

Chapter Twenty-one

Hopeless

AVOIDANCE

Trying to steer clear of Daniel became as difficult as ru

Friday afternoon, he came into Brighton's Art Supplies while I was picking out a new set of hard pastels to replace the ones I'd broken the week before Thanksgiving. I waited until he was finished at the cash register and had gone before I took my box up to the front. When I pulled out my wallet, the girl behind the counter informed me that my "wicked hot friend" had already paid for the pastels.

"What if I don't want them anymore?"

She shrugged and snapped her gum.

I left the box on the counter.

"Are you sure?" she called after me like I was crazy. "You can keep them."

On Saturday, he was at the parish repairing a broken pew when I brought the bulletins from the copy shop to my father. I set them on his desk and left through the office door that led into the alley between the school and the parish.

Sunday morning, I saw him staring down at me from the balcony during Dad's sermon. And by Monday, I realized that ru

That afternoon, Dad sent me to Day's Market with a list of groceries. It was his turn to make di

I rounded the corner into the ca

"Sorry," I mumbled, and tried to move around him.

He stepped in front of me and blocked my path. "Grace." The cut in his skin healed over as he put his hand on my grocery basket, stopping me from stepping away.

"We need to talk--alone."

I looked at the bloody box cutter he held against his apron.

The wolf seeks to kill what he loves the most.

"I can't." I let go of my basket, backed away, and ran out of the market.

Dad didn't question why I came home without the ingredients for chicken-fried steak. He made mac and cheese instead. Don, James, and I were the only ones who joined him for di

"Real great," Don said. "Mr. Day's been so stressed about Jess, he needs all the help he could get. Lucky Daniel needed a job."

Or convenient, I thought--but it was Jude's voice that echoed sarcastically in my head.

I pushed away my plate. Daniel had cared for Marya

All I knew was that she was missing, and Daniel had a good job that let him fulfill the requirements for Barlow's class. Which meant he'd be able to stay in Rose Crest indefinitely.

Convenient. It was all too convenient.

But to what end? Were they random attacks on people he cared about? Or did they serve some purpose? Did they point in some direction?

Did they get him closer to ... me?

Something deep down in my heart told me my doubts about Daniel had to be wrong. Dad had read those letters. He knew that Daniel's i

But the thing was, I'd thought the same thing about Jude's accusations. I'd thought that if Daniel had truly tried to kill my brother, Dad would never let him near our family. But I'd been wrong about that. He helped Daniel, fully knowing what he'd done--what he was.

Was Jude right? Did Daniel have Dad under some type of spell?

Or did Dad just know something that I didn't?

GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE

I didn't know why, but I felt like I couldn't read the book of letters in my bedroom that night. Like the words that echoed off of them would be heard by everyone in the house. I drove to the library. It was almost closing time, but I settled into one of the scratchy orange couches, trying to push down the nerves that rumbled inside of me. I figured that if Dad really knew something that I didn't, then the answer was probably hidden in these letters.

My Sister, They have destroyed it. They have destroyed the great library!

The knights and their footmen have sacked the city. They have looted and plundered the great treasures. They have set fire to the library, destroying all I wished to learn. They call the Greeks heathens, jet our Knights of Christ are the ones who rape the city.

The smell of smoke and blood permeates my tent. I ca

Thou may think me foolish, yet I will not be deterred.

God's love be with thee and Simon, Thy brother in blood and faith