Neither spoke as they went down the long centre aisle. They both knew more angels could appear at any time, and sense his and Willow’s energy, if they got close enough. Willow’s chin was up, her gaze steady on the balustrade where people were kneeling. The preacher was already blessing the second applicant, his lips moving in prayer as he held the man’s hand. The woman he’d just blessed stayed kneeling, head down.

And from nowhere, the thought flashed through Seb’s mind how right this would feel, if circumstances were different: to walk towards an altar like this with Willow someday. If she felt the same, he’d even do it now, despite both their ages. Because, as he glanced down at her beside him, he knew that this girl – this woman – was the only one he’d ever love. She’d had his heart for almost his entire life; she was woven into the very fabric of him.

They reached the balustrade with the great golden altar gleaming before them, and kneeled side by side on blue velvet cushions. Willow bowed her head; Seb could sense her complete focus on the job at hand. Pushing away his thoughts, he cleared his own mind, getting himself into the relaxed state that he used for his readings.

It seemed to take for ever. Finally the preacher reached Seb, his eyes gentle. “Do you wish to be blessed by the angels, my son?”

“Yes, father.” Seb held out his hand; felt the priest take it.

A burst of sensation, images, knowledge. Seb’s heart sank. This wasn’t the usual preacher at all – the usual preacher was sick. This man was visiting from another state, and though ecstatic at the thought of meeting the Seraphic Council in a few days, he’d arrived only hours ago – had hardly even had a chance to speak to anyone before he’d been asked to do the evening service. Seb probed deeply, but his spirits were sinking. There was nothing here to get; this man didn’t know the details of the reception yet.

The priest lightly touched Seb’s bowed head and moved on to Willow. Seb stayed where he was. He could sense her discouragement after a moment, and knew she’d found out the same thing as him. At last the preacher moved on again, to a man wearing a grey business suit.

Seb turned his head on his clasped hands, gazing sidelong at Willow. Their eyes met; she bit her lip, and glanced at the arched door in the shadows that led to the offices. “Seb, we’ve got to go in there,” she whispered.

He nodded reluctantly, eyeing the office doorway. Maybe he could leave Willow in the corridor, while he attempted to go past the angels himself.

She was regarding him with a small smile. “Think again,” she murmured.