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motion. “So when can you leave? What must you take with you?”
    Obadiah straightened in his chair, raising his eyebrows a little at the tone. “I can be packed in a few moments, if you want me to be on my way immediately,” he said.
    Gabriel nodded, but he was frowning. “I do not think—going into this task you must realize—this is not something that will be accomplished overnight,” the Archangel said, seeming to have an unaccustomed inability to find the right words. “It is not merely a matter of packing an overnight bag.”
    Now Obadiah was frowning, too, trying to get at whatever lay behind Gabriel’s words. “No, I understand that,” he said. “But you think it will take me longer than a few weeks? I should pack for a stay of some months?”
    â€œIt could very well be a lifetime commission,” Gabriel said.
    â€œDealing with the Jansai?” Obadiah said, startled.
    â€œRelocating to Cedar Hills,” Gabriel amended. The Archangel hesitated, then shook his head. “Or perhaps not a lifetime assignment. But one that may last more than a year or so. All the holds are under great strain, but the situation is worst in Cedar Hills. At least in Monteverde, and here, Ariel and I have loyal supporters among the landed gentry. We have lived with our angels our whole lives, we know who can be trusted to carry out a petition, and who might bear a little extra watching. We have our systems in place. Poor Nathan is trying to learn it all at once—how to be a leader, how to deploy his forces, who his allies might be among the landowners of Jordana—and all the while he’s trying to finish construction of the hold. I have complete confidence that Nathan can handle all these daunting tasks at once, but I would like to give him all the help I can.” Gabriel’s blue eyes stabbed in Obadiah’s direction. “I would like to give him you. Not just for your help in the Breven matter. But for a long time. Because I trust you almost as much as I trust my brother.”
    â€œHigh praise, Gabriel. Thank you,” Obadiah said.
    Gabriel was still watching him. “It is a lot to ask, I know. And I will not command or insist. But if you would be willing to do this for me—”
    â€œHappy to do it,” Obadiah interrupted, leaning forward. “Gabriel, I will always do any task you place before me. And I will gladly undertake this one. But I may need a day or so to pack.”
    â€œAnd make your farewells,” Gabriel said. “Though of course we will expect to see you often back at the Eyrie.”
    So perhaps Gabriel did know, after all.
    It took Obadiah three days to arrange to move his life from the Eyrie to Cedar Hills. He had not thought of himself as a particularly acquisitive man, but when he looked around his bedchamber, it seemed overfull of items he would just as soon not leave behind. His casual clothes, his formal clothes, his flying leathers—summer shoes, winter boots—a favorite chair, some artwork, a rug that Rachel had helped him pick out in the Velora market, and a tapestry that Rachel had woven for him with her own hands. His books, his music, his jewelry . . .
    His jewelry. For a long time, he stood in the center of his room and examined the sapphire-and-silver bracelet on his left wrist. Every angel wore just such a bracelet, ornamented with the patterns and the gems that marked the wearer for who he was and where he hailed from. All the angels of the Eyrie wore sapphires, whether set in gold or silver; the arrangement of the stones differed from piece to piece. Obadiah’s family pattern consisted of oblong stones set in alternating positions, one horizontal, one vertical, in an unbroken circle around the bracelet.
    If he were to relocate permanently to Cedar Hills, must he discard this piece and commission a bracelet set with rubies? An angel would flash his bracelet at any inn,