Archangel Read online

  SHARON SHINN

  “The most promising and original writer of fantasy to come along since Robin McKinley.”

  —Peter S. Beagle, author of The Last Unicorn

  “The spellbinding Ms. Shinn writes with elegant imagination and a steely grace, bringing a remarkable freshness that will command a wide audience.”

  —Romantic Times

  ARCHANGEL

  And so it came to pass …

  Through science, faith and force of will, the Harmonics carved out for themselves a society that they conceived of as perfect. Diverse peoples held together by respect for each other and the prospect of swift punishment if they disobeyed their laws. Fertile land that embraced a variety of climates and seasons. Angels to guard the mortals and mystics to guard the forbidden knowledge.

  Jehovah to watch over them all …

  Generations later, the armed starship Jehovah still looms over the planet of Samaria, programmed to unleash its arsenal if peace is not sustained. But an age of corruption has come to the land, threatening that peace and placing the Samarians in grave danger. Their only hope lies in the crowning of a new Archangel. The oracles have chosen for this honor the angel named Gabriel, and further decreed that he must first wed a mortal woman named Rachel.

  It is his destiny and hers. And Gabriel is certain that she will greet the news of her betrothal with enthusiasm, and a devotion to duty equal to his own.

  Rachel, however, has other ideas …

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  ANGEL-SEEKER

  WRAPT IN CRYSTAL

  THE SHAPE-CHANGER’S WIFE

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  THE SAFE-KEEPER’S SECRET

  THE TRUTH-TELLER’S TALE

  THE DREAM-MAKER’S MAGIC

  ARCHANGEL

  SHARON SHINN

  ACE BOOKS, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  ARCHANGEL

  An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Ace trade edition / May 1996

  Ace mass-market edition / April 1997

  Copyright © 1996 by Sharon Shinn.

  Cover art by John Jude Palencar.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  EISBN: 9781101554869

  ACE

  Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  For my aunt, Mary Krewson

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  In the Eyrie

  Gabriel, leader of the host; an angel

  Nathan, his brother; an angel

  Hannah, a mortal woman; widow of the former leader

  Judith, a young mortal woman

  Obadiah, an angel

  Matthew, an Edori

  In Monteverde

  Ariel, leader of the host; an angel

  Magdalena, her sister; also an angel

  In Windy Point

  Raphael, leader of the host and Archangel of Samaria

  Saul, his foremost follower; also an angel

  Leah, Raphael’s wife; the angelica

  In Semorrah

  Lord Jethro, a wealthy merchant

  Daniel, his son

  Lady Clara, Jethro’s wife

  Lady Mary, Daniel’s bride

  Anna, a bondwoman

  Rachel, an Edori slave

  Others

  Elijah Harth, a wealthy Manadavvi landowner

  Abel Vashir, another Manadavvi landowner

  Malachi of Breven, a Jansai war leader

  Peter, a former priest now residing in Velora

  Naomi of the Chievens, an Edori woman

  Luke, her husband

  Josiah, oracle of Bethel

  Ezekiel, oracle of Jordana

  Jezebel, oracle of Gaza

  SAMARIA

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  CHAPTER ONE

  The angel Gabriel went to the oracle on Mount Sinai, looking for a wife. He did not go gladly, even hopefully, as befitted a man eager to find his lifelong companion. In fact, he had put off this journey as long as he could, but his deadline was rapidly approaching. In six months, he would lead the annual Gloria to praise and gladden Jovah, and it was a task he would be unable to complete without his ordained partner at his side. Because he was next in line to be Archangel, and therefore Jovah had a special interest in him, Gabriel went to the Mount Sinai seer to
learn who the god had chosen to be his bride.

  Flying, Gabriel took less than three hours to cross the hundred and fifty miles from his home in the Eyrie to Josiah’s rock-bound retreat. It was easy flying, for the air was very thin in the valley between the two mountain ranges, with no treacherous currents such as one might encounter over the western Gaza mountains or the southern coast of Jordana. To a mortal, the frigid air this high above the ground would have been deadly, but angels carried heated blood in their veins, ideally equipping them for surviving the icy wind in the higher reaches of the stratosphere. Gabriel wore only a leather vest and leather pants, tucked into his boots, and he felt no cold.

  When he arrived at Sinai, one of Josiah’s acolytes led him to the oracle’s room, moving soundlessly through the shadowy gray corridors of rock. They came at last to a small, well-lit chamber where the oracle could be seen leaning toward a glowing plate of glass and metal embedded in the slate-rock wall. The acolyte put a finger to his lips.

  “Quietly,” the boy said. “He is communing with the god.”

  Gabriel nodded, and gestured for the boy to return the way he had come. Clearly the acolyte would have preferred to stay, making sure Gabriel did not disturb Josiah at his prayers, but very few people would gainsay an angel, particularly this one. The boy left, and Gabriel leaned against the wall, waiting courteously. He was nothing if not respectful of the will of the god.

  In a matter of moments, Josiah straightened, murmured an amen, and touched the face of the lighted screen. Instantly, the plate went blank. Gabriel stepped forward.

  “Josiah,” he said.

  The oracle turned to him with a smile. He was a small, gray man, nearly lost in a voluminous blue robe. Unlike the angels, he suffered from the cold.

  “Gabriel!” he exclaimed. “An unexpected pleasure.”

  The angel laughed, coming forward to take the seer’s hand and bow over it. “Come, now,” Gabriel said straightening. “You must have been expecting me anytime these past six months.”

  “These past three years, more like,” Josiah retorted. “If by that you mean you have come at last to seek my advice about your bride.”

  “Jovah’s advice,” Gabriel corrected.

  “You have not given yourself much time to woo and win,” Josiah said.

  Gabriel shrugged. The gesture caused his immense, immaculately white wings to flutter gracefully behind his shoulders. “These things are laid down by the law of Jovah,” he said. “If I have no choice about it, then neither does she. I do not know that it will be a courtship in the traditional sense.”

  Josiah was watching him. “Nonetheless,” he said, “she may need some time to accustom herself to the idea. She has not had fifteen years, as you have, to dream about becoming the angelica.”

  Gabriel smiled. He was a black-haired, blue-eyed man, with fair skin darkened to a perpetual tan from constant exposure to sun and wind. He was always striking, but never quite approachable until he smiled. “I thought all girls dreamt of becoming the angelica,” he said.

  Josiah snorted. “Those who have not met you, perhaps.”

  Gabriel looked faintly amused. “Well, at any rate, the girl handpicked by Jovah must be suited to me in all things, as I understand the theology,” he said. “So she will be eager to be my bride.”

  Josiah regarded him, his small head turned a bit to one side. “She will complement you,” he amended. “She will know things you do not, have skills you do not. If you were an angry man, she would make you calm. If you were a timid man, she would make you strong. As you are an arrogant man, I must assume she will make you humble.”

  “I am not arrogant,” Gabriel said mildly. “Confident, perhaps.”

  Josiah smiled. “Well, then. We will let the god determine. Come sit with me while I ask him his will.”

  They pulled up two chairs before the screen where Josiah had been working when the angel arrived. Gabriel settled himself carefully, spreading his wings wide so that they unfolded lavishly across the cold stone floor. Even among angels, his wings were remarkable—entirely white, exceptionally broad in span, and taller than he was by more than a head.

  Not waiting for Gabriel to grow still, Josiah leaned forward and touched the glass plate in the wall. Instantly it came alive with a soft bluish light. Strange hieroglyphics danced across the screen, changing as Josiah pressed the knobs and buttons on a small shelf lying before the interface. Gabriel watched, fascinated. As often as he had seen Josiah communing with Jovah, he never failed to be impressed. A man or a woman must be trained since birth to understand the rituals of the god; mere mortals, even angels, could not understand the words of the holy language.

  At length, Josiah completed his dialogue with Jovah, murmured an amen, and closed down the window between humanity and divinity.

  “Well?” Gabriel demanded.

  “She was born in a small village in Jordana, not far from Windy Point,” Josiah said. “Her parents are farmers, her family are farmers. She is twenty-five years old.”

  Gabriel stared at him in disbelief.

  “It is unlikely,” Josiah said, maintaining a serious expression, “that she has ever entertained thoughts of becoming angelica to the Archangel Gabriel.”

  Gabriel found his voice. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “A farmer’s daughter? From the wilds of Jordana? What do we know of these people? Are they educated? Are they civilized? Can they sing, by the love of Jovah? For in six months, this girl will need to stand beside me on the Plain of Sharon and lead the Gloria. Can she do so? Can she sing a note? Can she be taught? Six months, Josiah—!”

  “Perhaps you should not have waited so long to seek her out,” Josiah responded.

  Gabriel was on his feet. “No doubt! But I did not expect Jovah to have such a sense of humor! An untutored hill-farmer! I expected a girl from the gentry of the Manadavvi, or even a woman from one of the river cities—someone trained to take on the duties of a household such as mine—”

  “You really have no one but yourself to blame,” Josiah said unsympathetically. “As it is, you still have six months. A lot can be accomplished in that time frame. Search her out immediately.”

  “I will,” Gabriel agreed somewhat grimly. “What is her name? Or did Jovah seek to make my task harder by withholding that information?”

  “No, it was part of the registry,” Josiah said. “She is called Rachel, daughter of Seth and Elizabeth. It is a small village in the shadow of the Caitana Mountains. There should not be many with that name and those parents.”

  Gabriel was still angry—fruitlessly so, because it was of no use to rail against the god, and he knew it. “And if she has changed her name? Or refuses to believe me?”

  Josiah nodded at Gabriel, indicating the small amber stud embedded in the flesh of the angel’s right arm. “There should be no mistake,” he said quietly. “The Kiss will react. You will feel heat, and its light will flare—yours and hers. There is no denying the Kiss.”

  Automatically, Gabriel put his hand over the acorn-sized crystal in his arm. Like almost every child born on Samaria, he had been dedicated to the god when he was only a few days old— in fact, Josiah had been the one to perform the ceremony, although there were priests who did no work but this the whole year round. The Kiss of the God was embedded in Gabriel’s flesh, grafted to the bone, to remain there until he died, and to be buried with him. It was through the Kiss that Jovah acknowledged the existence of all his children, tracked them through their lives, knew if they were ill or unhappy or dying. At times, when he had been most exhilarated or most afraid, Gabriel had felt the Kiss flicker against his skin, a slight sensation of warmth, a brief flash of light in the brandy-colored depths of the stone.

  But. “I thought that was a myth,” he said slowly.

  “What? That the Kiss shoots sparks of light when true lovers meet for the first time? No myth. Have you never seen it occur?”

  Gabriel shrugged impatiently. “Among some couples who have been marrie
d a long time and who feel great mutual affection—yes, I suppose I have seen a glimmer now and then,” he said. “But—this business of recognizing your true lover the first time you meet—”

  “Well, there should be some reaction,” Josiah said. “As you are only seeking to confirm an identity—”

  “And as I am not looking for true love—”

  “Perhaps the reaction will be slight. Go to this village. She should not be hard to find.”

  Gabriel was still frowning. “I admit, it seems odd to me that she comes from a place so near to Raphael,” he said. “For Leah came from Jordana as well.”

  “Jovah does not care about the angelica’s origin,” Josiah said. “He cares about her heart.”

  Gabriel made a slight gesture of disagreement, but continued to brood. Well, it was true. The Archangel Raphael, who ruled the host of angels quartered in the bleak mountain retreat of Windy Point, had twenty years ago chosen a bride from among his own people. Her name was Leah, and she was a pale, silent woman of whom very little had been seen outside of the annual Glorias held on the Plain of Sharon. If Jovah did indeed look to meld opposites when he selected consorts for his Archangels, he had come up with a definite contrast here. Raphael was suave, smooth-spoken and self-assured. Leah was tongue-tied, shy and docile. Or so she seemed. Gabriel had not troubled himself to converse more than politely with her for the past twenty years.

  The fact was, he did not care much for either Raphael or his angelica, though he had done his best to work with the older man during Raphael’s reign as Archangel. Harmony was, after all, the central tenet of their religion, and it was not for the Archangel-designate to cause dissension among the angels. But he had been shocked at some of the abuses that occurred during Raphael’s tenure—the growth of power among the city merchants, the gradual impoverishment of the lowland farmers, the increasing violence directed against the nomadic Edori tribes. These were circumstances that were within the Archangel’s power to control, and Raphael had not controlled them. To Gabriel, it seemed as though the harmony of Samaria was out of tune—but Jovah had still accepted their singing at the Glorias, and so to Jovah, perhaps, all still appeared well.