Page 41 of Caelum

Caelum was the word for heaven, after all. I’d learned that after Nestor had shown me how to use Google Translate.

The Internet was beyond wonderful. A true gift that most disrespected by wasting it on cat memes and taking pictures of their morning coffees. As magnificent as coffee was, I didn’t understand why people took so many photos of it.

“I’m almost through them all,” I assured her, and that had her cocking a brow at me.

“Really? That was some heavy reading material. You understand everything?”

“Yes. If anything, I understand those books more than I understand any of you.”

“That’s because they were written right about your era—seventeen eighty-nine.”

I grinned at her, amused and surprised by that amusement.

Clambering to my feet after I pushed the chair away, I murmured, “If that’s everything?”

She sighed again—she did that a lot—and wafted a hand at me in dismissal.

I took no offense. I don’t think she particularly liked me, but equally, there was something that tied her here. She’d indicated that she was leaving the second she could, and yet here Merry was. Still on campus, still willing to teach me about things I was only beginning to understand.

Leaving the room, I headed down the corridor to the Garland Room where Stefan said they’d be waiting on me to finish up.

Was it strange having friends that were boys? Perhaps. But I found I quite liked it. I’d always enjoyed my brother’s company, even if he’d been beyond pious and dull as dishwater some days. Being with Nestor, Stefan, and Eren was amusing. They were always bickering, and though their propensity for fighting was slightly disturbing, the boys at the compound had been quite similar. Except here, they weren’t whipped for fighting. There was no punishment, in fact.

The long hallway was armed with the strange things I’d seen my first day, objects Nestor called suits of armor, and I stopped in front of one I liked the most. It was silver, but it was plated with gold in certain areas, and the mask looked as though it had two eye patches which soared higher as it connected with the upper part of the helmet. It reminded me of a flame, but those flames made horns that were beyond devilish.

“They say the first Sin Eater wore that.”

Having been ignored by mostly everyone, the fact that someone was talking to me surprised me. I turned my head, and seeing one of the boys Stefan and his friends loathed, I hesitated before curiosity got the better of me. “What makes them say that?”

“The horns.” His accent was strange. Everyone had their own twang, thoughtonguesmade communicating simple, but his was stronger—I likedit. It was pleasing to my ear. He was pleasing to look at too, especially when he grinned at me like he was letting me in on a joke.

“Why?” I stared at the boy who was tall, had golden blond hair, and whose skin was a pale gold from the sun. He had stubble on his chin that glittered like metal shards in the overhead lighting, and his green eyes pierced me to the quick as he stared down at me with something in those eyes I couldn’t discern.

I didn’t particularly like the way he was looking at me, but I’d seen worse things on a man’s face, so I felt no need for fright.

He reached forward and touched the point of the horn, exactly where I was, and I jolted in surprise when our fingers connected—on purpose. He purposely touched me. But when I moved back and away, Reed eyed me warily then raised his hands and backed off, explaining, “He was mistaken for the devil, and then the Sin Eaters took to wearing them during the first millennia. Christianity has been entwined with our world ever since. The church just doesn’t really know it.”

“Why are you talking to me?” What I was really asking was why he’d tried to touch my hand.

If he was taken aback by the question, he didn’t show it. “You were looking at it and I knew something about it. We all know you’re a blank slate where our history is concerned.”

“And you thought you’d fill in some of the gaps?”

He shrugged and started to walk off.

Though I hesitated for a second, I called out, “Thank you.”

He stopped walking and turned around a few feet away so I was back in his line of sight.

“You’re Reed, aren’t you?”

“Yes. And you’re Eve.” He tilted his head to the side. “Was there an Adam waiting back at that cult for you?”

Discomfort filled me, and I wished that news of my past hadn’t filtered through the place, even if I understood the logic of sharing it. I was old. Too old to be so behind on all the classes. The students would be curious, might even make life difficult for me here, and that was why Nicholas had held a special assembly to explain things.

While I understood it, I didn’t appreciate the necessity.

“No Adam,” I retorted, “but a Bryan.” My smile was taut. “He was seventy-eight and told me that prayer would help control my souls. After we were wed, of course.”

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