When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕

‘predictability’ of Le Ciel was one of his primary reasons for leaving.”

A crease formed between the angel’s brow; something between anger and disappointment. “Currently, his most frequent… pastime is to visit artists through dreams and visions. He’s the devil on their shoulder that whispers what to write, how to paint, and what is real. The further he leads them, the greater they become—at the cost of their sanity.”

Val’s cheeks blanched and a chill went down her spine. The book suddenly felt like a box of bricks. The soft pulse that she wasn’t sure existed was now vibrantly real. She set the book back down, almost in fear that it would begin leeching away her lifeforce. As her fingers left the cover, a melodic whisper played in her mind.

The Angels lie, and you are their fifth transgression.

They are coming, but we will save you from the saviors.

Close your mind and open your soul.

She had heard it somewhere before. The touch of the cover turned slimy under her fingers and a nauseous feeling crept through her insides. She blinked and stared blankly at the book with a sensation like someone was staring back.

“Valerie?”

“Hm?” Dove’s voice broke through. The book returned to being just another book.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Val took a breath and willed the color to return to her face. “He sounds terrifying, that’s all.”

Dove gravely nodded. He eyed her a moment, as if he saw the lie the second she thought it. Whether or not he could, he seemed content not to press the issue. “He is. However, it’s been over twenty years since he was last seen.”

“Any idea why?”

“We have some thoughts, but nothing solid.”

Val made an understanding noise and stepped away from the shelf. Dove was also withholding information, but by that point, she was just desperate to get away from the book. Whatever that line, or poem, or curse was, she would work it out later. Right now, she had to find a way out of the castle.

Her back bumped against the opposite shelf and another book toppled to the floor. She picked it up and glanced at the cover, then did a double-take to make sure she saw correctly. A chiseled Hispanic man with long, dark hair stared into the sunset. Grasping onto each leg was a beautiful, though comically disproportioned, blonde woman in lace lingerie.

“Umm...” she managed. “What’s this doing here?”

A bemused smirk played against Dove’s lips and he shook his head. “The library contains every book ever written—even if we never read them.”

Val found herself grinning and placed it back on the shelf. “Understandable.”

“Mmhmm.” Dove opened his mouth to say something, stopped, then eyed her over. Before she could ask, he reached over his shoulder and plucked a white feather from the air. He held it out and Val gingerly took it, confusion splayed across her face.

“Follow the stairs to the nineteenth floor, then go down the corridor. You’ll find a silver door on the right. My feather will allow you past the spell locks and guard runes.”

“Why—” Val started, but he held up a hand.

“When I told you why we cast the curse, my intention wasn’t to convince you here and now. At the same time, there’s no way for you to return to Earth Proper unless someone were to take you. That room has been sealed for ages so there may very well be something tucked away that can help.”

Val’s fingers tightened around the feather, heart hammering in her chest. “Thank you, Seph Ọkan.” She wasn’t sure how to even express the gratitude surging forth, but shakily settled on a small bow.

“It’s nothing.” He stepped past her to the end of the aisle. “You are the fifth sin, but that doesn’t mean you’re only a monster. Remember that, Valarie.”

There was a flash of light, followed by a dove quickly ascending. The air in his wake had a sweet smell similar to mint leaves. She tried to stare after him, but his white feathers soon blended with the golden rays.

Val looked back to the white feather in her hand and beamed. She may have found her ticket out.

Avia grimaced as she stared in the ladies’ room mirror. Her tawny skin was now a charred layer of black and red scales. Fire gently pulsed over her eyes to give them a warm orange color, parting slightly at the pupil to complete the dragon veneer.

“And why is it that I’m the one who has to go backstage?” Avia grumbled with crossed arms.

“Because we need to make sure it’s not just an enchantment, but that they’re really sempiternus,” Paris answered. She was obviously half-listening, busy comparing different mascaras with her now brown skin—courtesy of a glamour rune. “Cas and I will scope out the crowd. We’ll meet up once the show starts.”

They had gone near the outskirts of the city where the wind was strongest. There, Avia repeatedly ignited her entire body. The icy gales snuffed her out each time. After nearly forty minutes of this, her skin lost its color and became dry and cracked. At that point, she just had to call up a soft flame under the surface for a red hue. The result: nearly indistinguishable dragon scales.

The staff shirt fit comfortably enough, but it was hideous. Circ D’Undead was printed in grey bubble-font across pumpkin orange cotton. Beneath it was a cartoon image of the ringmaster. He was riding an elephant while eating cotton candy. It was bad enough she had to go to a circus, but the effort involved in her disguise made it even worse. Huffing out a small gust of smoke, Avia rolled her eyes and headed out the door.

The underground cavern was huge. She could barely see the ceiling or even just how far the place stretched. While there were decorative torches on