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TWO WEEKS, OR WHAT I CLOCKED OFF as fourteen sleeps, which I imagined to be days, passed by without viewing Hamiel. The other two rainbow walkers were austere and silent, so my time spent waiting was dismally long. With the few coins I had left after locating seeds in some probably futile attempt to get the overgrown garden to produce some vegetables, I slipped into a bookseller’s stall in Dorchester to purchase a few tomes. No one seemed the wiser as I plucked a copy of The Lady of the Lake by Walter Scott as well as a book titled Zastrozzi: A Romance by Percy Bysshe Shelley. I enjoyed poetry a great deal. The romance may have been a bad choice given my lonely state. Returning to the carriage that I’d left a block over, I placed my books on the seat, removed my hat, and was about to climb into the seat to wait for an elderly lawyer who was leaving this plane after sixty-five years when a sunbeam deposited a smiling perky rainbow walker into the street.

“Hamiel,” I called out as he regained his footing. He waved madly, his grin instantly lifting the morose woes that had been clinging to me. “Come and sit with me as we wait. I’ve been hoping to see you these past weeks. Have you been ill?”

He skirted around a woman and her handmaid out for a walk, nodding at the ladies even though they could not see him. Abyss snorted at him, so he paused to run a hand over the hell horse’s flank before darting back to the carriage.

“Livingstone, my goodness, it is glorious to see you!” He looked at me, bright gold eyes glowing, soft cheeks appled, and sunshine radiating from his yellow curls. My chest tightened as I looked down upon his beauteous face. “I was not ill, no, that is not possible.” I reached down to offer him a hand. He took it, and that radiant heat I’d felt when we’d touched blossomed over my fingers and palm. “Ah, thank you.” I moved over as my hand glowed internally, the warmness spreading like a low fog over the shore up my arm to snuggle around my lonesome heart. Was this the common reaction when touching a heavenly being? I had to assume so, but I felt a pang of sadness for this kind of coziness I’d never felt before. “How kind. I have had something to tell you for a fortnight.”

“Oh. Well, I am all ears,” I said, wishing my duster were newer, my ascot tie tied better, and my trousers a little less dusty. “Were you assigned to another area of the country?”

“No, no, glory, nothing like that.” He ran a hand through his hair, the curls stubbornly falling back to tickle his cheeks. Such smooth cheeks. Mine were always rough with whiskers. “No, sadly, I was working through a punishment.” He peeked at me with a chagrined look. “Saint Peter caught me peering at the book of life and was not pleased with my behavior. He reprimanded me as well as Michael and then sent me to work with Sister Evangelista in the raiment and robes department.”

“Hamiel, please do not say that you were punished for doing that for me,” I said, guilt weighing down on me like a wet wool coat.

He waved it off. “It’s fine, no truly. It was well worth the time spent casting a cleaning touch to a few robes.” I sighed. “No, please, it was fine. I learned a great deal about how to properly care for dupioni and chiffon.” I felt terrible. “Livingstone, do not feel bad. I have a new respect for what it takes to keep our attire clean and shall endeavor to not be so clumsy. So, all is good and right! Please, wipe away your frown, for I have some news about your passing that I gleaned before Saint Peter found me with my nose in his book.”

Some of the shame left me at that news. Not all, of course, but a smidgeon. “What did you discover?”

“There, now I see a spark of curiosity in your lovely eyes.” Lovely eyes? Surely he did not mean lovely as in lovely as in…lovely. “When I found your entry in the tome, it had a mark by your name. Not the usual mark that he who guards the gates of Heaven regularly leaves as one passes by him. This was a bold swipe of a quill, a half circle, flat side down. I had time to research that symbol during my time spent repenting my sin.”

“It seems that you spent more time in the heavenly library than asking for forgiveness,” I teased and got a flush of pink to rise to his pale face. My guilt was still heavy, but I did not wish to burden him with it. He was a man filled with empathy.

“I did my penance, rest assured. Sister Evangelista runs a very tidy laundry. As is said in the good book, the glory of kings is to search things out, which means that the Lord loves a curious mind! Which I have.” He pushed his spectacles up his nose. I could not help but smile. “Yes, so that symbol turns out to be a rune from the Ebla era of Syria. A random thing, with only seven other runes that worked in conjunction with it, but this one means stasis, which given your existence, makes sense. However, it is also used to signify when a person’s journey is stopped or is standing in wait.”

“That does make sense. Malphus said my time in service to the dark lord is due to a deal of some sort that Lucifer made with my father,” I confessed.

“Yes, that could be, but Peter uses that symbol to also mark a person whose life has ended before its designated time. Your death was either a terrible accident or a vile murder, and so your soul was locked in stasis at the moment of your passing.”

“Murder?”

His amber eyes flared. “Do not fixate on that, for you seem a most genteel man. I am sure your death in that stable was a most unfortunate accident.”

I sat back, stunned, that one word circling about inside my head. Murder. No, definitely not. I had never crossed anyone in Avers Mill to such an extent that they would seek to end my life. I’d not taken anyone to task, although I wished to at times, for the poor treatment of horses or those of the serving class.

“There is nary a person that I can think of who would wish to end my life in such a ghastly way,” I finally said, the white eyes of my horse now locked on me. Long ago, I surmised that horses could sense human emotions. I worked to soften my brow and gave Abyss a smile. “I am sure that it was an accident. It could have been a lightning strike or a lantern mishap.” Though neither of those felt correct to me, but since I had no recollection of a large amount of time surrounding my death, I could not rely on hunches.

“Yes, that is the crux of the problem. We simply do not know, which led me to delve into some other light reading.” He dug into his shoulder bag, removing a few apples, his small bible, and a scroll filled with chicken scratching. “I know my handwriting is a terrible sight, but I have to wonder if it has always been so. I made some notes about the possibility of a dream walk.” I was still watching Abyss who, it seemed, looked more at ease as he munched on what were some well-tended marigolds in a window box outside the attorney’s office. I’d have to leave a coin in the box for recompense once judgment had been made. “As you may know, or may not know, angels can enter dreams. Livingstone? Are you shaken still?”

“Apologies. I was lost in thought.” I turned slightly to face him. A welcome ease washed over me just viewing his face. “Continue, please.”

He studied me over the top of his spectacles for a moment, nodded, and returned to his notes. “Yes, so angels can enter the dreams of mortals. Gabriel appeared to Mary, Joseph dreamed of an angel, and a heavenly messenger came to Zechariah with a message from God, just to name a few incidents. So, entering dreams is rather commonplace. Now, the questions are varied but important.” He shoved his glasses up. “One is that you are not wholly mortal. I could find no references as to angels entering the dreams of those like us. But that does not preclude it from happening. Secondly, and this is a bigger issue, is if one of the winged ones would consent to do this for you.”

“That hardly seems likely. Most of your fellow rainbow walkers will not even speak with me. I highly doubt that an exalted angel would lower themselves to my level.”

“Hmph, yes, that’s ridiculous. Your position with the fallen one does not make you an inherently bad person. I do not understand why so many harbor dislike for others before even getting to know the person.” That was a question that I also had no answer for. “So yes, I would surmise that many of those above us would also not be willing to aid you in this endeavor. Which leaves me.”

“You?” He bobbed his head, gold curls bouncing like wild springs released from a box. “But you are not an angel.”

“True, but I do possess many of their traits.” I mulled over his suggestion. “If you are not comfortable…”

“No, it is…” I glanced away. “It is just that you may find my dreams to be…unsettling for a man of your divinity. I am fond of men.”

I stared at the back of Abyss’s black head as I waited for the condemnation to begin.

“Oh. Well. That is nothing of concern. I, too, am fond of man.”

My sight flew from my steed to my angel. No, not an angel and not mine. “Hamiel, I do not mean in that I am fond of man in a benevolent manner as one of your kind would look on all mankind as men. I mean that I lay with men. I know them in a biblical sense.”

He bit down on his lower lip. A motion that did unsettling things to my body. “I understood,” he whispered after releasing his lip. “I, too, find myself drawn to the male form. I suspect I did when I was mortal as well. Although, it’s possible it is just a certain man who draws my attention.”

I stared at him as his meek confession sank in. The odd sensation in my lower belly grew as he peeked at me from around a wayward curl. The urge to touch his smooth cheek was overwhelming. I shoved my hands between my thighs as I willed the now familiar ember of desire to go out. Instead, it radiated outward.

“Whoever that man is, he is indeed a lucky,” I managed to croak out like a toad with pharyngitis. An awkward moment passed as we sat there in stilted silence.

“You’re very kind, Livingstone.” His reply was as soft as kitten fur. “Uhm, yes, so, we could…” He cleared his throat. I glanced over to see him adjusting the papers on his thighs, a soft wind rustling them so his hands were needed to keep them in place. What would he do if I plucked one of his small hands from his papers to drop a kiss on his knuckles? And why was I thinking of flirting with a man when I had Theo mourning my loss back in Avers Mill? I was a terrible sort of man. “We could give it a try?”

“You wish to try to enter my dreams?” I pushed away my guilt to deal with later.

“Well yes, but only if you so wish it.” He stared at me with big, honey eyes and I felt myself willing to do whatever he bid of me. He need only ask and I would ride through the fires of Hell a hundred thousand times a day if it would bring forth one of his smiles.

“Yes, of course. I would like to understand what happened. Stasis. That is a worrisome notation I suspect, so if we can clarify my passing, then it’s possible I could move past the nightmares that plague me whenever I close my eyes.”

“Excellent. I shall go with you to your residence in purgatory.” He began stuffing his papers and my new books into his ivory satchel. I blinked dully.

“Now?”

“Mm, yes, now is fine. The gentleman we are waiting for is putting up a brave battle against the cancer that is riddled throughout his body. I suspect we have several hours before his spirit leaves his body and a judgment is made.” He paused, placing his notes back. “Unless you wish to do this later?”

“No, now is a good time. I just…can you enter the shadow space?” I handed him my newly purchased books to place in his bag.

“Oh yes, angels are allowed to travel into purgatory. Many go there to carry the prayers of those who wish to be purified to the ear of our Lord.” He tucked his satchel under his backside, sat up straight as an arrow, and smiled out at Abyss. “I am most thrilled to finally take a ride in this magnificent carriage!”

While I did wish to bring out the truth of the day of my death, I was nervous about taking this petite heavenly guide into my dismal little hovel. Still, the man was ready to go. It would reflect badly on me if I were to back out now. Granted, most thought ill of me as it was, Satan’s coachman and all that, but what others thought hurt far less than what Hamiel might think of me if I showed any sign of cowardice. He had taken punishment for me. The very least I could do was not shirk from what could be an unpleasant nap.

So, I picked up the reins, placed my hat firmly on my head, and looked to the side. Hamiel fairly bounced in his seat, his excitement was so large.

“You may wish to hang onto something. Abyss has a great love of speed,” I warned my passenger. He grabbed onto my biceps. The heat of his hands flowed into me, washing away my worries. “Off we go then.”

I snapped the reins over the back of the magnificent black stallion as the carriage vibrated in soft pulses. The horse spit out his mouthful of flowers, laid back his ears, and hurtled into a gallop. The apples he had placed on the seat rolled off. Hamiel squealed, his fingers digging into my arm, as we sped through streets and woodland in the blink of an eye. His hoots of glee made