"I did the best I could. That grain was the best I had."

"Not good enough, Brother. You have never been good enough." Abel laughed as he turned away.

Adonai was so unfair, such a small mistake.

As he stalked across the clearing, Abel continued. "Father and I will offer a good sacrifice. We will atone for your shortcomings." He looked over his shoulder and smirked.

"You will be banished. All you have will be mine. All of it." His voice carried across the field as he walked away.

Adryel's hands shook, and her eyes narrowed as she glared at Abel.

What a self-righteous little. . .

"I will own your sheep. I will live in your tents. I will take your wife." He glanced behind. "Tonight, Abi will lie with me and, perhaps, your angel, too."

How dare he? She scowled at Abel as she bent to retrieve a stalk of wheat that lay at her feet. It whistled as she swung it like a club, imagining that she swung it at Abel's head. I'll teach him. . .

As Adryel stepped into the clearing, Cain roared like a wounded lion. He hurtled across the field after his brother, stooping to pick up a large rock. Abel saw him coming, and began to run, but he moved too slowly, and Cain caught him, striking him on the back, knocking him to the ground.

"Not good enough? We'll see."

Abel struggled to his feet, clutching his knife, and he rushed at Cain.

"Hit him again, Cain. Hit him hard."

As she spoke, Cain nodded and pulled his arm back to strike again.

Abel thrust his knife at his brother, but Cain dodged, stepping to the side, and he brought the rock down against one side of Abel's head. Adryel heard the crunch, and blood spewed from the wound. Abel fell a second time.

"Again. Hit him again," she ordered.

Abel stretched out one arm, clawing at the dirt as if trying to crawl away.

"Again."

"Please, Cain, don't. . ." Abel gasped for breath.

"Do it again," she screamed. "Hit him harder."

Each time she spoke, Cain struck his brother. And each time he struck, Abel's pleas weakened, until, finally, Abel lay still.

Ramael.

Cain stood over his brother's body, crumpled on the ground next to him.

"What is wrong with him?" He bent and shook Abel. "Get up."

Cain looked up at Adryel, confusion on his face. "He's asleep. Why won't he wake up?"

Adryel knelt beside the body. She held her hand near Abel's nose, searching for his breath. She felt nothing. She held his wrist, searching for a heartbeat. Again, nothing.

So, humans do die. . .

She stood and looked him in the eye. "He's dead, Cain. Like the animals you hunt. He is dead."

"How? Why?" Cain stood motionless, his eyes darting around as though seeking an answer from the very air around him. Finally, he looked to Adryel. "All I did was. .h.i.t him and. . ."

"That's all it takes. Animals die. Humans die. You've killed him."

"Cain. Cain." A deep voice from the distance carried across the field. "Cain, where are you?"

Adryel's head jerked up.

Michael had come. He was calling for Cain. How could he already know what had happened? How could he arrive so quickly? She sprang to her feet, looking about wildly.

"Cain?"

Loud voices erupted from the camp, and she focused her attention on them.

". . .and it was not accepted." Abi's voice rose louder than those of the others.

Adryel took a deep breath. Michael was there because of the sacrifice, not the murder.

Cain reached out and touched Adryel on the arm. "Whose voice is that?"

"It's Michael, an archangel."

"The one who banished my parents from the garden?" Cain sprang to his feet. "The one with the flaming sword? He has come for me, because I've killed my brother."

"He has come because of your sacrifice, not your murder." She looked down at Abel. "We must hide the body."

The earth in the clearing had been turned for planting, and they were able to scoop up the loose dirt with their hands. They pushed Abel's body into the shallow hole.

"Cover it."

As Cain began to toss dirt over the body, Adryel quickly stepped to the edge of the clearing. She scanned the road leading from the camp, but saw no one.

"Cain," Michael called again.

She could not see him, but his voice sounded as if he had almost reached the field. She sank to the ground behind one of the large bushes.

She just made it. She was breathing hard.

Peering through the leaves, she could glimpse Cain as he rose from his knees, wiping his dirty and b.l.o.o.d.y hands on his robe.

"Adryel?" He turned about, looking for her, and she pulled back, allowing the bush to cover her completely.

A second voice came from the field. "Cain, are you here?" Dariel's voice. Adryel's lip curled in disgust. He had taunted her. He would learn she was not one to be dismissed so easily. She remained hidden and listened.

"Cain, your offering was not acceptable."

"It was the best I had. I inspected each grain. I sieved it. . ."

He was lying.

"You took a nap under a tree and when you awoke you dipped your basket in the granary and took whatever came out," Dariel's voice accused him.

"It was your lack of effort, not the difference in size that made the difference," Michael said softly.

"Oh. . .I. . .I. . ." Cain stammered.

"Where is your brother?" Michael asked. "We were told you were both in the field."

"Am I supposed to keep up with my brother? I. . .I do not know where he has gone."

"What have you done, Cain?"

The anger in Michael's voice was clear and intent. "Your brother's blood calls out to me from the ground where you have hidden his body."

Adryel peeked through the leaves again. Michael stood with his back to her, his arm pointing at the shallow grave. She could make out two other sets of wings, but Michael was so large she could not see who, other than Dariel, had accompanied him.

Cain fell to his knees. "I was angry. I was jealous. He. . .he told me I was not good enough, that I never had been, never would be. I hit him with a rock. The angel. . .she said to hit him again and again, and I did."

They stood in silence for several moments, until, finally, the third angel spoke. "She?"

Ramael's voice.

Adryel gasped, stood upright, and began to take a step, to run to him, to throw her arms around him. But she remembered all she had done, and she sank back to the ground, her arms clutching her chest where her heart pounded like a drum beating double time.

He was alive. Her arms trembled, and she wheezed as she struggled to force air into her lungs.

He was alive. She wanted to scream and laugh and cry. She wanted to dance and to shout for joy.

Ramael was alive.

She could do none of the things she desired. Instead, she pulled herself into a tiny ball and pushed her way into the bush as silent tears washed down her face. She could not allow him to see her. They couldn't find her. She had long pa.s.sed the point where a simple I'm sorry and a smile would result in a welcome home.

She had gone far beyond the point of forgiveness.

"Her name was Adryel," Cain said. "She gave us fire. I went in to her last night. . .She told me to hit him. . .How could I refuse the guidance of an angel? I was only wanting to-"

"Enough," Dariel shouted. "She gave his mother the fruit in the garden-it had to be her-she slept with a human, she murdered his brother, and. . .and who knows what else she has done? Lord Michael, if you had stopped her in the beginning. . ."

"So you have said. Adonai thought differently." Michael sighed. "Dariel, return to the city. Bring a squad of soldiers back with you. Search everywhere. Search their cavern. Find her. Bring her to me."

"Yes, Lord Michael. Right away." Dariel's voice oozed with pleasure.

"Ramael, I am sorry."

Ramael's reply to Michael was nothing more than a whisper, and Adryel could not hear.

"Cain, come with us."

She heard the four of them moving across the clearing, and she lifted her head to watch as they disappeared down the path to the settlement. Dariel was rushing ahead of the others. Michael was leading Cain by the arm. Ramael followed. As he reached the bend in the path, he glanced over his shoulder and looked directly at the bush in which she hid. Adryel froze. He turned away.

If he had he seen her, he would have called for Dariel. He did not. But Adryel saw him, as though he looked right at her-through her-his blank face, without emotion, without surprise, without anger. . .Not the face of a power.

Had a power found his pair to be as evil as she, he would have screamed and cried and beaten on the ground. A power would have wailed and torn his robe. A power would have taken his anger out on whoever was nearby-Cain, most likely-and he would now lie broken and bleeding in the dirt. Had a power discovered what Ramael now knew to be true. . .

Unless the power no longer cared.

She hid her face in her hands and she wept.

After what seemed like an hour, Adryel slowly unfolded herself and stood. She ought to make this easy. She ought to go to Michael herself. She stood behind the bush for several minutes, debating. Shouting arose from the camp, followed by women's voices wailing in sorrow.

She couldn't stay there, she decided. Surely they'd comb through the field as they began their search. She looked toward the road back to h.e.l.l. It ran through open country, and after crossing the two small hills, the land was flat. It would take hours to reach any type of cover. Until then, she would be visible from miles away. If Dariel returned in the afternoon and made half an attempt, if he even strolled to the top of the rise and opened his eyes, he would spot her.

She recalled a tent pitched at the rear of the settlement, near the sheepfold. She had been in it once, and she had seen blankets and tools and a pile of straw that reached higher than her head. No one would be working this afternoon, she felt certain, and if someone did approach the tent, angel or human, she could burrow into the straw. Perhaps after dark she could find her way back to h.e.l.l.

Adryel slowly dug herself out of the straw. Bits of it clung to her and she carefully untwined pieces from her hair, wincing as she pulled them free. She brushed the smudge of dirt on her left arm and shook her head hopelessly when she found streaks of mud running the length of her robe. She had crawled into the pile when she'd heard Dariel's voice outside the tent, and she had remained on the ground beneath the straw, almost immobile, for hours.

Carefully, she moved a flap aside and looked out. The camp seemed deserted. She listened, straining to catch any indication of life, any noise, but there was nothing. She sighed in relief and stepped outside. The red light of sunset skimmed across the land, just clearing the crest of the hill. Darkness would come before too long and she could begin her journey home.

She stretched, her muscles protesting each movement. Perhaps she could find some food. As she stepped away from the tent, a hand grasped her from behind, closing around her neck. She screamed, but the sound was choked off as she gagged and struggled for breath.

"You've been busy." Ramael released his hold on her neck and whirled her around to face him, catching her by both shoulders.

"Ramael," she shouted, opening her arms to embrace him. He pushed her away.

"The bottom of your left sandal was visible under the straw. You had to crawl into the open eventually."

Adryel glanced down and noticed a piece of straw clinging to her sandal.

"You covered my foot."

Ramael turned away. "Dariel was too pleased with his a.s.signment. He shouldn't have been happy. He should have been sad that someone so. . ." his voice caught, "so good has become so evil."

"Ramael, please, listen to me. I'm sorry." She fell onto her knees. "I believed you were dead. . .that Michael let you die. . .that Adonai. . .I never would have followed Lord Lucifer if I had known." She raised her hands, as if in prayer, pleading with him. "Please, Ramael, please listen. Let me explain. I-"

"Don't even try." He looked into her eyes, his face blank, as before, almost as if he were inspecting some new species, not as if he had been reunited with his long-lost pair. "I thought I knew you."