I soared through the sky. Even after ten minutes, the feeling of weightlessness was jarring and alien. In normal circumstances, whatever passed for normal these days, I would have enjoyed this. I was gliding hundreds of feet in the air, getting the sort of million dollar view only accessible from a helicopter.

Problem was, I’d over-tapped myself last night. Using my vocation ability to spy on Miles was a risk, but the result had paid off in spades. The peace of mind that came with knowing my gambit had mostly succeeded was worth any short-term discomfort I could think of. If I’d just limited my night’s activities to that, I’d probably be fine.

But, I’d overextended. Sent Azure out to shore up loose ends.

The problem was Sae. I’d made a mistake, introducing her to my family early. Put her emotional well-being ahead of the all-important rule of compartmentalization. I didn’t like the idea of screwing with the minds of people close to me. But I wasn’t willing to wager that Ellison was bullshitting me about Iris’ life, hanging in the balance. And if I was taking that on principal?

The rules could go fuck themselves.

I sent Azure out to modify memories, and ignored his warning that it’d be difficult. He’d need to make multiple trips and draw heavily from my mana to carry it out. If we didn’t live in the same building, it wouldn’t be possible. The rules for my summons were frustratingly inconsistent. Talia was self-sustaining and could trawl the entire city without me. Azure needed me close by.

It was the only point of weakness left. The last avenue Miles could use to get at me. If he confirmed that Sae was in the building prior to last night? He’d have me.

According to Azure, it was easy enough to edit both my mother’s and Estrada’s memories. They both had only met Sae a handful of times. I had to thank my friend’s shut-in tendencies for that. From their perspective, she simply hadn’t been there, and any memory of conversation they had with her in it was edited out cleanly, while leaving core scene intact, not unlike editing a character out of a TV show.

Steinbeck was significantly harder. Sae had made more of an impact on him, as he’d met her in stressful circumstances, and accompanied us as we smuggled her into the apartment through Kinsley’s door. Azure spent most of the evening editing Sae out of the broadcast memory and giving him a false memory of the previous evening.

Iris, unfortunately, simply wasn’t possible.

On top of the work she’d put in to the faux armor that made Sae appear more human, she’d kept Sae company far more often than I’d realized. Azure told me she cared for Sae deeply, and excising something so meaningful out of my sister’s memories could cause mental scarring at best, irreparable damage at worst.

When Azure proceeded to use that explanation to tell me more about what the people in my life were thinking, I stopped him.

What I’d done was already a gross invasion of privacy. There wasn’t any need to delve deeper.

My sister might be the one person I fully trusted to keep a secret. And given what had just happened, I didn’t think Miles would seek her out any time soon.

All that to say, I was trying to enjoy the flying. Be in the moment. But the biblical headache, and the way the sun seemed to creep through my eyes and punch every neuron was seriously cutting into the enjoyment factor.

Someone bumped me. I screamed, and any remaining effort to hold onto my lunch was violently ejected onto the ground below.

Hope that doesn’t hit someone.

Daron was interesting, for a region leader. The man was wearing a cheap purple vest pushed out so far out from his expansive stomach, that in side-profile it nearly formed a cock-eyed J. A pair of white, clearly-DIY angel wings ruffled on his back. He flew alongside me, smiling apologetically. “Are you enjoying your tour, Mr. Matthias?” His Southern European accent was thick, and with the wind, his words were barely audible.

“Yes.” I wiped my chin.

“‘Yes’ he says.” Daron belly laughed and rotated onto his back, making a show of an unnecessarily flamboyant backstroke. “‘Yes.’ The air is so clear up here, so clean! How could one not enjoy these beautiful skies?”

Salesman, before. Or a magician? No. Definitely a salesman.

There were a few other people on the tour. All VIPs. But they were some distance behind us. Daron had latched onto me, for obvious reasons. And now my head was spinning, my only point of reference an over-indulgent, dollar-store angel.

The others caught up with us. I took some small comfort in the fact that they all looked similarly queasy.

My stomach turned upside down as I was overcome with the juddering feeling of losing altitude. I looked at Daron in alarm, while one of the other two loudly lost their lunch.

Daron’s eyebrows shot up dramatically. “Come my friends, our time is short.”

“Oh my god, we’re falling.” The man clung to the woman, his face white and grim. The woman panicked and shoved him off.

“We’re not falling. We’re making our glorious descent with valorous rapidity!” Daron exclaimed.

“That sounds like falling with too many adjectives.” I said, having lost any semblance of filter the third time I’d vomited. Now that we were descending steadily, it felt less like we were plummeting, more like the world itself was rocketing towards us. The pointed tower of a skyscraper passed like a thrusting spear.

Daron pulled the tail end of a rope with knotted increments from his inventory. “Take hold! I shall guide us to the celestial plane.”

Shall?

I wished I knew Daron was off his gourd before I’d let him levitate me hundreds of feet in the air. Lacking any better option, I grabbed the knotted portion of the rope. The man and woman grasped the sections behind me. I closed my eyes, only peeking intermittitently to confirm that we were indeed heading towards Region 7, and not some secondary location.

The man behind me was still shrieking, the sounds he made elevated from terror into something that resembled disturbingly carnal bliss.

When Daron announced we were making a final descent, I forced my eyes open. And immediately wished I hadn’t. The rock covered ground of a rooftop was rushing towards us at a velocity that couldn’t have been anything other than terminal.

For a moment, my thoughts, my fears, everything blinked out. Just as it had the moment the meteor hit.

Then Daron did… something. He angled his body flat, and a pulse radiated from the charm around his neck.

We crashed into a cushion of air. There had to be some magic fuckery involved, because no matter how soft the landing, that sudden suspension of movement should have been enough to shred our organs.

The cushion remained until all three of us crawled off, then the faint translucent shimmer dissipated. I released the rope, my legs pure rubber as Daron led us towards the door. The others still clung to it tightly, and I couldn’t blame them.

Apparently accustomed to this, Daron smiled reassuringly. “Come, friends. Come, come. Your place of respite is nigh.”

This was Region 7’s claim to fame. The flight charm. It was more limited than I’d hoped, but it still had an insane number of applications and utility.

I doubled over, heaving but coming up dry. Needed to catch my breath. Recenter.

Daron ushered the other two in. I didn’t miss the way his hand lingered on the woman’s waist, or the way he positioned himself so she had to brush against him as she passed. Two attendants inside the door—both wearing vests, both donning the terrible DIY angel wings—led them down one at a time.

The actions matched his reputation. Now that I thought about it, his refusal to talk to Kinsley directly might be an act of providence.

For him, anyway.

“It takes some time for the charm to recharge.” Daron said absentmindedly. It almost didn’t sound like a warning. Almost.

“You didn’t teach us how to land, either.” I frowned. “It’s insane that no one’s died.”

“No one’s died, no one’s stolen a charm. That’s winning, as far as I’m concerned.” He gave me a wide-smile that amped up my nausea.

“Good for you.”

“What?”

I forced myself to stand upright. “That’s good to hear.”

“Indeed. I look forward to talking business.”

“Soon as my head stops spinning.”

“This way my friend, this way.” He ushered me in. There was no attendant for me, just Daron himself. We descended a flight of stairs and exited out into something that resembled a spa. Women in string bikinis with dead eyes were giving the previously screeching man a massage. Adonis-like men clad in white towels wrapped around their waists—towels far closer to hand than bath, in terms of dimension—attended the woman.

Both of my fellow tourists looked profoundly uncomfortable.

“What… is this? Exactly?” I had to ask.

“The celestial plane, of course. Where all angels must rest before they take to the skies once more.”

I paused. “There’s not actually a second round, is there?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Right.”

This branding really needed some work.

Daron exploded in a belly laugh that startled everyone in the room, including the strippers—masseuses. Whatever. He walked backward, extending his palms flat up to either side of the room. “Now, my young friend, pick your paradise.”

I shook my head. “Thanks. But I’d rather get to the point.”

He stuck a finger at me. “All business. I like that, I respect that.”

He held open the door for me and I followed him down the stairway. There wasn’t anything to mark the floors, but I’d been keeping count.

Three floors down, I staggered, placing my hand against the door.

“Stick your chin out more and drop your jaw. Like you’ve got marbles in your mouth, but not too many.” Azure said.

“Clear coms. And stop giving me notes, dammit.” I growled back. Aloud, I called after Daron. “Actually, I’m not feeling so well. Mind if I just sit on the stairs for a minute?”

“Of course.” Daron smiled. “But I’d never force such an esteemed guest to rest in such an environment. Through the door with you young sir, through the door.”

I followed his direction and entered a floor that looked very much like a corporate office had disemboweled a Precious Moments Etsy shop. Angel wings, angel memorabilia, and motherfucking porcelain angel figurines lined the walls and display shelves. Small cubicles took up the center floor, where people in business casual—mostly men, were seated at desks, talking directly into them.

Despite the plethora of conversation, no one was actually talking to each other. I slowly realized they were all on voice calls.

“I see you resurrected the call-center.”

Daron pointed me to a plush couch near the stairway door. “Why reinvent, when you can reinvigorate?”

I followed his instruction and sat down, still scanning the faces.

Eventually I found what I was looking for.

I’d missed him because he was hunched over the sink, filling up a neoprene water-bottle. Buzzcut turned away from me, his expression bored, neutral. Someone raised a fist towards him as he passed and he bumped it, shooting the man a smile that looked anything but natural on his face.

The flight-charm was mostly cover. This was the real reason I’d come.

Now the question was, what was Buzzcut doing here?