Angel Of The City Read Online Free Page A

I wouldn’t want to test that. He’s wearing some sort of robe; silk, I think, with drapes of cloth hanging from both arms. Even though he’s younger than me by a few years, he’s already losing his hair. He compensates by growing what’s left long and braiding it so it hangs over his shoulders. He’s no darker than I am. Except his nose. It’s black as coal.
    H e walks around me, grinning the whole time. When he gets behind me, he puts his hand on my head and I let him. I feel him pushing away the short hair, feeling for the scar. He does it every time we meet, like he still doesn’t believe it.
    “ Crazy son-of-a-bitch,” he says, coming around to face me. “Crazy son-of-a-bitch.”
    He reaches into a pocket somewhere in the flowing robes and pulls out a tiny silver case. He opens it and pours a fine black powder on the back of his left hand; holds it to his nose and sniffs. The action causes him to snort and cough several times. When he ’s finished, he shakes the case in my direction, offering, but he knows I don’t use.
    Coal dust, or coal, has been around so long no one can remember what people abused before it. A synthetic hallucinogen, it ’s as illegal as breaking curfew and if you’re found with any you’ll face the same punishment. But it’s easy enough to get. Easier than food.
    The case disappears into his robes. “So, you figured out how to get the kid’s sister yet?”
    “ Yeah,” I say. “I’m going to ring the bell and ask for the urn.”
    He laughs, his hands and fingers animated, flittering around in the air; touching his face repeatedly. Effects of the coal. “Bet it pissed you off when you heard where she was, huh? Bet when you heard I was sending the girl to you, you weren’t expecting that.”
    “ No, I wasn’t. How did Pen even get in to see you?”
    “ Who?”
    “ The girl,” I say patiently.
    “ Oh, her.” He taps his head rapidly, as though trying to remember. “Faisal, a Blueshirt I own in the eighty-ninth. He drags her in here, tells me she’s got a story I should hear: the Counselors picked up her sister. I think to myself, so what? Counselors grab people every day. What’s this prick Faisal up to? But then she keeps talking. Turns out her sister ain’t just some nobody.” He grins. “You know them symbols all over the city? The white A’s in a circle?”
    “ Sure.”
    “ Know what it means?”
    “ Yeah, it means some kid is risking a bullet to the head to impress his friends.”
    He laughs. “Ain’t that the truth? They want a cheap thrill, they should stick with dust, eh?” He draws a letter A in the air with his finger. “A is for angel.” He makes a circle. “The circle, the city. Angel of the City, get it? That kid’s sister, the one the Counselors took? That’s her. She’s the Angel.”
    I started hearing the rumors about a year ago: a new resistance movement lead by someone calling herself, the Angel of the City. Nothing unusual about that. Resistance movements pop up now and then. What’s surprising about this one is how long they’ve been allowed to operate. Resistance leaders usually quietly disappear after a few months—Counselors see to that. Not only is this Angel still around, but her reputation has grown throughout the city. They say she’s unaligned with any quarter or tribe. How that’s possible, I have no idea. Few people have actually seen her, but that doesn’t stop every quarter from going out its way to lay claim to her, like she’s some kind of savior.
    Devon keeps grinning at me, waiting for a reaction, but all I say is, “What’s an angel?”
    He throws his head back and laughs, then goes to the table and lifts up an ancient book covered in cracked, black leather. There’s a large letter “t” in gold on the cover. “You know this book?”
    I shake my head.
    “Ain’t many left around. Counselors burned them all years ago, before you even. But it talks about souls; about heaven; about things called angels.