Dawn. The break of the last day Jin would see at Sword & Cross for—well, he didn’t know how long. A single wild dove’s coo rang out in the saffron sky as he stepped through the gym’s kudzu-swathed doors. Slowly, he set off toward the cemetery, hand in hand with Taehyung. They were quiet as they walked across the still grass of the commons.

 

Just before they’d left the chapel, one at a time, the others had retracted their wings. It was a sobering, laborious process that left them lethargic once they were back in human form. Watching the transformation, Jin couldn’t believe how the massive, brilliant wings could turn so small and feeble, finally vanishing into the angels’ skin.

 

When it was over, he’d run his hand over Taehyung’s . For the first time, he seemed modest, sensitive to his touch. But his skin was as smooth and unblemished as a baby’s. And in his face, in all of their faces, Jin could still see the silver light manifested inside them, shining out in all directions.

 

In the end, they’d carried Ken’s body back up the steep stone stairs to the chapel, wiped the altar clean of glass, and laid his body there. There was no way they could bury him this morning—not with the cemetery teeming with mortals, as Taehyung promised it would be.

 

It was agonizing for Jin to accept that he would have to settle for whispering a few last words to his friend inside the chapel. All he could think to say was “You’re with your father now. I know he’s happy to have you back.”

 

Taehyung would bury Ken properly as soon as the school calmed down—and Jin would show him where Ken’s father’s grave was so Ken could be laid to rest at his side. It was the very least he could do.

 

His heart was heavy as they crossed the campus. His jeans and tank top felt stretched out and dingy. His fingernails needed a good scrub, and he was glad there were no mirrors around so he could see what was up with his hair. He wished so much that he could take back the dark half of the night—could have saved Ken, most of all—while keeping the beautiful parts. The climactic thrill of piecing Taehyung's true identity together. The moment he appeared before him in all his glory. Witnessing Jimin and Hoseok growing their wings. So much of it had been so lovely.

 

So much of it had resulted in utter, bleak destruction.

 

He could feel it in the atmosphere, like an epidemic. He could read it on the faces of the many students roaming the commons. It was way too early for any of them to be awake of their own accord, which meant they must all have heard or seen or felt some of the battle that had taken place last night. What would they know? Would anyone be looking for Ken yet? For Mr. Bogum? What could any of them possibly think had happened? Everyone was paired up and speaking in hushed whispers. Jin longed to linger close to them and eavesdrop.

 

“Don’t worry.” Taehyung squeezed his hand. “Just imitate any of the baffled looks on their faces. No one will give us a second thought.”

 

Though Jin felt entirely conspicuous, he was right. None of the other students’ eyes lingered on the two of them any longer than they did on anyone else.

 

At the gates of the cemetery, blue and white police lights flashed, reflecting in the leaves of the oak trees overhead. The entrance had been marked off with yellow hazard tape.

 

Jin saw Bo Young's black silhouette outlined against the sunrise ahead of them. She was pacing before the cemetery’s entrance and shouting into a Bluetooth clipped to the collar of her shapeless polo shirt.

 

“I think you should wake him up,” she yelled into the device. “There’s been an incident at the school. I keep telling you … I don’t know.”

 

“I should warn you,” Taehyung told him as he steered him away from Bo Young and the blinking lights of the cop cars, through the oak grove that bordered the cemetery on three sides. “It will look strange to you down there. Jungkook’s style of warfare is messier than ours. It’s not gory, it’s just … different.”

 

Jin didn’t think much could alarm him at this point. A few toppled statues certainly weren’t going to set him off. They picked their way through the forest, brittle fall leaves crunching beneath their feet. Jin thought about how, the night before, these trees had been consumed by the thundering locust-shadow cloud. There was no trace of them now.

 

Soon, Taehyung gestured to a badly bent segment of the cemetery’s wrought iron fence.

 

“We can enter there without being seen. We’ll have to be quick about it.”

 

Stepping out from the shelter of the trees, Jin slowly understood what Taehyung meant about the cemetery looking different. They stood at the rim, not far from Ken’s father’s grave at the east corner, but it was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them. The air above the grounds was so murky it might not even have qualified as air. It was thick and gray and gritty, and Jin had to fan his hands through it just to see in front of his face.

 

He rubbed his fingers together. “Is this—”

 

“Dust,” Taehyung said, taking his hand as they walked. He was able to see through it, didn’t have to choke and cough it out of his lungs as Jin did. “In war, angels don’t die. But their battles leave this thick carpet of dust in their wake.”

 

“What happens to it?”

 

“Not much, besides the fact that it baffles mortals. It will settle eventually, and then they’ll come out to study it by the carload. There’s a crazy scientist in Pasadena who thinks it comes from UFOs.”

 

Jin thought with a shudder about the unidentifiable flying black cloud of insectlike objects. That scientist might not be too far off.

 

“Ken’s father was buried up here,” he said, pointing as they neared his corner of the graveyard. As eerie as the dust was, he was relieved that the graves, statues, and trees within the cemetery all seemed to have been left standing. He got down on his knees and wiped away the pelt of dust from the grave he thought belonged to Ken’s father. His shaking fingers brushed clean the letters that nearly made him weep.

 

LEE KUK-HUI

WORLD’S BEST FATHER

 

The space beside Mr. Lee’s grave was bare. Jin stood up and stamped his foot woefully on the ground, hating that his friend would join him there. Hating that he couldn’t even be present to give Ken a proper memorial.

 

People always talked about Heaven when someone died, how they were certain the deceased were there. Jin never felt like he’d known the rules, and now felt even less qualified to speak about what might or might not be.

 

He turned to Taehyung, tears in his eyes. His face fell at the sight of his sorrow. “I’ll take care of him, Jin,” he said. “I know it’s not the way you wanted, but we’ll do the best we can.”

 

The tears came harder. Jin was sniffling and sobbing and wanting Ken back so badly he thought he might collapse. “I can’t leave him, Taehyung. How can I?”

 

Taehyung gently wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “What happened to Ken is terrible. A huge mistake. But when you walk away today, you won’t be leaving him.” He laid a hand over Jin's heart. “He’s with you.”

 

“Still, I can’t—”

 

“You can, Jin.” His voice was firm. “Believe me. You have no idea how many strong and impossible things you are capable of.” He looked away from him, out at the trees. “If there’s any good left in this world, you’ll know soon.”

 

A single blip of a police car’s siren made both of them jump. A car door slammed, and not far from where they stood, they heard the crunch of boots on gravel. “What in the hell—Ronnie, call the central office. Tell the sheriff to get down here.”

 

“Let’s go,” Taehyung said, reaching for his hand. He slid it into his, giving the crest of Mr. Lee’s headstone a somber pat, then started moving with Taehyung back through the graves near the eastern side of the cemetery. They reached the bent part of the ornate wrought iron fence, then quickly ducked back into the grove of oak trees.

 

A cold wall of air slammed into Jin as they walked. In the branches ahead of them, he saw three small but seething shadows hanging upside down like bats.

 

“Hurry,” Taehyung commanded. As they passed, the shadows reared back, hissing, somehow knowing not to mess with Jin when Taehyung was at his side.

 

“Now where?” Jin asked at the edge of the oak grove.

 

“Close your eyes,” he said.

 

He did. Taehyung's arms circled his waist from behind and he felt his strong chest press into his shoulders. He was lifting him off the ground. A foot maybe, then higher, until the soft leaves of the treetops skimmed his shoulders, tickling his neck as Taehyung pushed through them. Higher still, until he could feel the two of them burst free of the woods and into the bright morning sun. He was tempted to open his eyes—yet he sensed intuitively that it would be too much. He wasn’t sure that he was ready. And besides, the feeling of the clear air on his face and the rushing wind in his hair was enough. More than enough. Celestial. Like the feeling he’d had when he’d been rescued from the library, like riding a wave on the ocean. He knew for certain now that Taehyung had been behind that, too.

 

“You can open your eyes now,” he said quietly. Jin felt the ground under his feet again and saw they were at the only place he wanted to be. Under the magnolia tree near the lake’s edge.

 

Taehyung held him close. “I wanted to bring you here because this is one place—one of many places—where I’ve really wanted to kiss you these past few weeks. I almost lost it that day when you dove right into the water.”

 

Jin tilted his head back to kiss Taehyung. He had wanted to kiss him badly that day, too—and now he needed to kiss him. His kiss was the only thing that felt right, the only thing that comforted him, and reminded him that there was a reason to go on, even when Ken couldn’t. The tender pressure of his lips soothed him, like a warm drink in the dead of winter, when every part of him felt so cold.

 

Too soon, he pulled back, looking down at him with the saddest eyes.

 

“There’s another reason I brought you here. This rock leads to the path we’ll need to take to move you somewhere safe.”

 

Jin lowered his eyes. “Oh.”

 

“This isn’t goodbye for good, Jin. I hope it’s not even goodbye for long. We’ll just have to see how things … develop.” He smoothed his hair. “Please don’t worry. I will always come for you. I won’t let you go until you understand that.”

 

“Then I refuse to understand,” he said.

 

Taehyung laughed under his breath. “See that clearing over there?” He pointed across the lake about half a mile away where a small pocket of forest opened up to a flat, grassy knoll. Jin had never noticed it before, but now he saw a small white plane with red lights on its wings blinking in the distance.

 

“That’s for me?” he asked. After all that had happened, the sight of an airplane barely fazed him. “Where am I going?”

 

He couldn’t believe he was leaving a place he’d hated but where he’d had so many intense experiences in just a few short weeks. What was Sword & Cross going to be anymore?

 

“What’s going to happen to this place? And what am I going to tell my parents?”

 

“For now, try not to worry. As soon as you’re safe, we’ll tackle everything else we need to. Mr. Lee can call your parents.”

 

“Mr. Lee?”

 

“He’s on our side, Jin. You can trust him.”

 

But he had trusted Mr. Bogum. He hardly knew Mr. Lee. He seemed so teachery. And that mustache … he was supposed to leave Taehyung and get on a plane with his history teacher? His head throbbed.

 

“There’s a path that follows the water,” Taehyung continued. “We can pick it up down there.” He curved his arm around the small of his back. “Or,” he proposed, “we could swim.”

 

Holding hands, they stood at the edge of the red rock. They’d left their shoes under the magnolia tree, but this time, there’d be no going back. Jin didn’t think it would feel so great to dive into the cold lake in his jeans and a tank top, but with Taehyung smiling next to him, everything he did felt like the only thing there was to do.

 

They raised their arms overhead and Taehyung counted to three. Their feet lifted off the ground at exactly the same time, their bodies arched in the air in exactly the same shape, but instead of going down, as Jin instinctively expected, Taehyung pulled him higher, using only the tips of his fingers.

 

They were flying. Jin was hand in hand with an angel and he was flying. The crests of the trees seemed to bow to them. His body felt lighter than air. The early-morning moon was still visible just over the tree line. It dipped nearer, as if Taehyung and Jin were the tide. The water lapped below them, silver and inviting.

 

“Are you ready?” Taehyung asked.

 

“I’m ready.”

 

Jin and Taehyung drifted down toward the deep, cool lake. They broke the surface fingers first, the longest swan dive anyone had ever pulled off. Jin gasped at the cold as they surfaced, then started laughing.

 

Taehyung's hand took his again, and he motioned for him to join him on the rock. He pulled himself up first, then reached down and lifted him. The moss made a fine, soft carpet for the two of them to spread out on. Water droplets clung to his chest. They lay on their sides facing each other, propping themselves up on their elbows.

 

Taehyung put his hand on the hollow of his hip. “Mr. Lee will be waiting when we reach the plane,” he said. “This is our last chance to be alone. I thought we might say our real goodbye here.

 

“I’m going to give you something,” he added, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out the silver medallion he’d seen him wear around school. He pressed the chain into Jin's open palm and he realized it was a locket, a rose engraved on its face. “It used to belong to you,” he said. “A very long time ago.”

 

Jin clicked open the locket to find a tiny photograph inside, behind a glass plate. It was a picture of the two of them, looking not at the camera, but deep into each other’s eyes, and laughing. Jin's hair was short, shorter than now, and Taehyung was wearing a bow tie.

 

“When was this taken?” he asked, holding up the locket. “Where are we?”

 

“I’ll tell you the next time I see you,” he said. He lifted the chain over his head and placed it around his neck. When the locket touched his collarbone, he could feel a deep heat pulsing through it, warming his cold, wet skin.

 

“I love it,” he whispered, touching the chain.

 

“I know Jungkook gave you that gold necklace, too,” Taehyung said.

 

Jin hadn’t thought about that since Jungkook had forced it onto him at the bar. He couldn’t believe that was only yesterday. The thought of wearing it made him feel sick. He didn’t even know where the necklace was—and he didn’t want to.

 

“He put it on me,” he said, feeling guilty. “I didn’t—”

 

“I know,” Taehyung said. “Whatever happened between you and Jungkook, it wasn’t your fault. Somehow he held on to a lot of his angelic charm when he fell. It’s very deceptive.”

 

“I hope I never see him again.” He shuddered.

 

“I’m afraid you might. And there are more like Jungkook out there. You’ll just have to trust your gut,” Taehyung said. “I don’t know how long it will take to catch you up on everything that’s happened in our past. But in the meantime, if you feel an instinct, even about something you think you don’t know, you should trust it. You’ll probably be right.”

 

“So trust myself even when I can’t trust those around me?” he asked, feeling like this was part of what Taehyung meant.

 

“I’ll try to be there to help you, and I’ll send word as much as I can when I’m away,” Taehyung said. “Jin, you possess your past lives’ memories … even if you can’t unlock them yet. If something feels wrong to you, stay away.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Taehyung looked up at the sky. “To find Jungkook,” he said. “We have a few more things to take care of.”

 

The moroseness in his voice made Jin nervous. He thought back to the thick felt of dust Jungkook had left in the cemetery.

 

“But you’ll come back to me,” he said, “after that? Do you promise?”

 

“I—I can’t live without you, Jin. I love you. It matters not just to me, but …” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Don’t worry about any of that now. Only know that I will come for you.”

 

Slowly, reluctantly, the two of them stood up. The sun had just peeked over the trees, and it shimmered in tiny star-shaped shards on the choppy water. There was only a short distance to swim from here to the muddy bank that would lead them to the plane. Jin wished it were miles away. He could have swum with Taehyung until nightfall. And every sunrise and sunset after that.

 

They hopped back into the water and started swimming. Jin made sure to tuck the locket inside his top. If trusting his instincts was important, his instincts told him never to part with this necklace.

 

He watched, awestruck all over again, as Taehyung began his slow, elegant . This time, in the moonlight, he knew the iridescent wings he saw outlined in drops of water were not figments of his imagination. They were real.

 

He brought up the rear, cutting through the water with after . Too soon, his fingers touched the shore. He hated that he could hear the hum of the plane’s engine further up in the clearing. They’d reached the place where they would have to part, and Taehyung practically had to drag him out of the water. He’d gone from feeling damp and happy to being dripping wet and freezing. They walked toward the plane, his hand on his back.

 

To Jin's surprise, Mr. Lee was holding out a large white towel when he hopped down from the cockpit. “A little angel told me you might need this,” he said, unfolding it for Jin, who took it gratefully.

 

“Who you calling little?” Jimin popped up from behind a tree, followed by Hoseok, who brought forward the Watchers book.

 

“We came to say bon voyage,” Hoseok said, handing the book to Jin. “Take this,” he said lightly, but his smile looked more like a frown.

 

“Give him the good stuff,” Jimin said, nudging Hoseok.

 

Hoseok pulled a thermos out of his backpack, handing it to Jin. He lifted off the top. It was hot chocolate, and it smelled incredible. Jin nestled the book and the thermos in his towel-dried arms, feeling suddenly rich with possessions. But he knew as soon as he got on that plane that he’d feel empty and alone. He pressed against Taehyung's shoulder, taking advantage of his nearness while he still could.

 

Hoseok's eyes were clear and strong. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”

 

But Jimin's eyes darted away, as if he didn’t want to look at Jin. “Don’t do anything stupid, like turning into a pile of ash.” He shuffled his feet. “We need you.”

 

“You need me?” Jin asked. He’d needed Jimin to show him the ropes at Sword & Cross. He’d needed Hoseok that day in the infirmary. But why would they need him?

 

Both guys only answered with somber smiles before retreating into the forest. Jin turned to Taehyung, trying to forget that Mr. Lee was still standing a few feet away.

 

“I’ll give you two a moment alone,” Mr. Lee said, taking the hint. “Jin, from the time I start the engine up, it’s three minutes to takeoff. I’ll meet you in the cockpit.”

 

Taehyung pulled him closer and pressed his forehead to his. As their lips connected, Jin tried to hold on to every part of this moment. He would need the memory the way he needed air.

 

Because what if, when Taehyung left him, the whole thing started to feel like just another dream? A partially nightmarish dream, but a dream nonetheless. How could it be that he felt what he thought he felt for someone who wasn’t even human?

 

“This is it,” Taehyung said. “Be careful. Let Mr. Lee guide you until I come.” A shrill whistle from the plane—Mr. Lee telling them to wrap it up. “Try to remember what I said.”

 

“Which part?” Jin asked, slightly panicked.

 

“As much as you can—but mostly, that I love you.”

 

Jin sniffed. His voice would break if he tried to say a thing. It was time to go.

 

 

He jogged toward the open door of the cockpit, feeling the hot blasts from the propellers almost knock him down. There was a three-step ladder, and Mr. Lee reached out his hand to help him up. He pressed a button and the ladder withdrew into the plane. The door closed.

 

He looked at the complicated dashboard. He’d never been in such a small plane. Never been in a cockpit at all. There were flashing lights and buttons everywhere. He looked at Mr. Lee.

 

“You know how to fly this thing?” he asked, wiping his eyes on the towel.

 

“U.S. Air Force, Fifty-ninth Division, at your service,” he said, saluting him.

 

Jin awkwardly saluted back.

 

“My wife always tells people not to get me started on my flying days in Nam,” he said, easing back on a wide silver gearshift. The plane shuddered into motion. “But we’ve got a long flight, and I’ve got a captivated audience.”

 

“You mean a captive audience,” he let slip out.

 

“Good one.” Mr. Lee elbowed his side. “I’m kidding,” he said, laughing heartily. “I wouldn’t subject you to that.” The way he turned to him when he laughed reminded him of the way his dad always did when they were watching a funny movie, and it made him feel a little better.

 

The wheels were rolling quickly now and the “runway” before them looked short. They would need to lift off pretty soon or they’d end up flying straight into the lake.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he shouted over the roar of the engine. “Don’t worry, I do this all the time!”

 

And just before the muddy bank below ended, he pulled hard on the lever between them, and the nose of the plane tilted up toward the sky. The horizon dropped out of view for a moment and Jin's stomach lurched along with it. But a moment later, the plane’s motion settled down, and the view before them flattened out to just trees and a clear, starlit sky. Below them was the twinkling lake. Every second, it grew more distant. They had taken off to the west, but the plane was making a circle, and soon Jin's window was filled with the forest he and Taehyung had just flown through. He gazed into it, pressing his face to the window to look for him, and before the plane straightened out again, he thought he saw the smallest flash of violet. He gripped the locket around his neck and brought it to his lips.

 

Now the rest of campus was beneath them, and the foggy cemetery just beyond it. The place where Ken would soon be buried. The higher they went, the more Jin could see of the school where his biggest secret had come out—though so differently than he ever could have imagined it would.

 

“They really did a number on that place,” Mr. Lee said, shaking his head.

 

Jin had no idea how much he knew about the events that had taken place last night. He seemed so normal, and yet he was taking all of this in stride.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“A little island off the coast,” he said, pointing out in the distance toward the sea, where the horizon faded into black. “It’s not too far.”

 

“Mr. Lee,” he said, “you’ve met my parents.”

 

“Nice people.”

 

“Will I be able to … I’d like to speak with them.”

 

“Of course. We’ll figure something out.”

 

“They could never believe any of this.”

 

“Can you?” he asked, giving him a wry smile as the plane rose higher, leveling itself in the air.

 

That was the thing. He had to believe it, all of it—from the first dark flicker of the shadows, to the moment when Taehyung's lips found his, to Ken lying dead on the marble altar of the chapel. It all had to be real.

 

How else could he hold out until he saw Taehyung again? He gripped the locket around his neck, which held a lifetime of memories. His memories, Taehyung had reminded him, his to unlock.

 

What they held, he didn’t know, any more than he knew where Mr. Lee was taking him. But he’d felt like a part of something in the chapel this morning, standing next to Jimin and Hoseok and Taehyung. Not lost and afraid and complacent … but like he might matter, not just to Taehyung—but to all of them.

 

He looked through the windshield. They would have passed the salt marshes by now, and the road he’d driven on to get to that awful bar to meet Jungkook, and the long stretch of sandy beach where he’d first kissed Taehyung. They were out over the open sea, which—somewhere out there—held Jin's next destination.

 

No one had come right out and told him that there were more battles to be fought, but Jin felt the truth inside him, that they were at the start of something long and significant and hard.

 

Together.

 

And whether the battles were gruesome or redemptive or both, Jin didn’t want to be a pawn any longer. A strange feeling was working its way through his body—one steeped in all his past lives, all the love he’d felt for Taehyung that had been extinguished too many times before.

 

It made Jin want to stand up next to him and fight. Fight to stay alive long enough to live out his life next to him. Fight for the only thing he knew that was good enough, noble enough, powerful enough to be worth risking everything.

 

Love.