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stares down at his empty plate and taps a finger on the tray. His whole manner just changed so suddenly, I can’t help but wonder what happened.
    “I mean, you don’t seem evil to me,” I offer, feeling guilty. My hands dart out of their own accord to straighten his discarded silverware.
    I may not be the best judge of character on the planet, but I can spot bad intent a mile away. Some internal warning developed inside me since Natasha, and it’s kept me out of some hairy situations. Caleb’s vibe is anxious, good-natured, and a little sad. Wistful, even. But none of my alarms are ringing.
    He looks back up at me, intensity in his eyes. “Souls are beautiful and powerful, but not inherently good or evil. They’re just energy … the spark of creation in this world.”
    “And why don’t you get one?”
    “Because angels don’t have them. My dam, my angel mother, if you will, didn’t have one to share with me, as yours did. It’s different there, in Euphoria. More different than you can imagine.”
----

Before
    I spring back from the golden portal just in time to miss being hit by the arc of silver that slides through.
    “You should say ‘incoming’ or something, so I can get out of the way.”
    Kalyx settles into her angelic form, a gentle, silvery light in the shape of a woman.
    “How was I to know you would be blocking the portal? Have you been here watching the entire time I have been gone?” she asks. Her voice is dispassionate, but there is censure coming.
    “Not the entire time. How did it go?” She’s been gone for thirty cycles, nearly a full year of human time, though of course it passes differently in Euphoria.
    “You seek to avoid my questioning, Caleb. I am not unaware of your techniques.” She closes the portal, and the glowing golden space darkens.
    “One mission. Please? Just tell me of the last one. Was it a man or a woman? What kind of dreams did they have? Pleasant or nightmarish?”
    Whereas a human mother might become annoyed at the barrage of questions, an angel does not feel those emotions. Kalyx disapproves for entirely other reasons.
    “Did you visit the Recordkeepers, as I asked?” she says. “Mannix was expecting you.”
    “Yes, of course. I shadowed Mannix for three cycles. I don’t think I could become a Recordkeeper. It’s far too repetitive. And they never leave Euphoria.”
    “It is important that you explore all your options. You may not get another chance to select a guild. Openings are rare. Being as you are will make it that much more difficult to procure an assignment.”
    “You mean being a halfling?” Her euphemisms sting even more than the discrimination.
    “Yes, of course. You know what I meant. Halflings are barred from the honor guilds, leaving only — ”
    “Records, Peace, Life, and Death. I know.”
    “And somehow you have found a way to eliminate each of them.”
    “The Angels of Death are glorified couriers. The Peaces are so boring. And the others never leave Euphoria. If I could do what you do, become an Angel of Destiny, I would have done it cycles ago.”
    Her silver glow dims a bit. Angels are not completely immune to emotion. While they don’t experience it at human intensities, they do feel certain things. For Kalyx, it’s guilt for the position she’s put me in. I’ve never blamed her for anything — bringing me into the world wasn’t a crime — but I know her conscience weighs on her.
    I move closer to her. “I didn’t mean — ”
    “My selfishness is to blame here. I must take responsibility.”
    “No.” I want to offer comfort, but that’s a foreign concept here. Something I only know of from endlessly watching the humans. “It is not your fault that I am barred from your guild. The Seraphim make the rules, and we must only abide by them.” I repeat the sentiment she’s shared countless times, though it always rang false to me. My future is unknown; if I don’t choose a guild, I will have no purpose, and that