Extinction (The Divine Book 7) by M.R. Forbes Page B

detain me, hold me until it was too late.
    "In here," Josette said, leading us into a storage room. It was filled with barrels that in turn were filled with ingots of metal that looked sort of like iron, but seemed to glow despite the lack of light. I had seen the same glow on some of the blessed swords the angels carried.  
    Josette pushed one of the barrels aside, revealing a ladder beneath. "Climb down."
    We did. She took up the rear, moving the barrel back in place behind us.  
    "Whoa," Obi said.
    We had gone down into a small chamber filled with candles. At the rear of it was the most beautiful metal crucifix I had ever seen, plated in gold and platinum and emitting its own light. My body tingled at the sight of it.
    The front of the chamber had a simple stool, and ahead of that a screen. Josette opened the screen, revealing the other side of the confessional and the tunnel leading away from the house. The angels searching for us reaching the storage room as we approached it, their feet loud over our heads.
    I put my finger to my lips, and we remained still. They retreated a few heartbeats later, signaling us to resume our escape. We passed across the screen to the tunnel, and then Josette closed it all behind us once more.  
    She motioned for us to remain silent as we moved down the tunnel. As Alfred had already told me, the Sisters didn't speak. I wasn't sure if she was allowed to, or if these were all the words we would get to share. If they were, I would treasure them and the chance to have heard her voice and seen her face one more time.
    Even so, I hoped they weren't. Seeing the crucifix had placed a sudden, immediate weight on my soul. A sense of guilt I had never experienced before. I didn't understand it. I didn't want it. I didn't seem to have a choice.  
    As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

Twenty-Two

    We reached the end of the tunnel, which opened out into another dimly lit structure. Josette remained silent as she guided us out into a hallway, down to an adjacent corridor, and then across to a simple door. She opened us, motioned us in, and then closed it behind us, leaving us alone.
    "It is permitted to speak in here," Alfred said, breaking the silence.
    "You told me you'd been here to see Josette before," I said.  
    The angel nodded.  
    "Where did she go?"
    "She must inform her superior that we are here."
    "Won't that lead Raguel to us?" Obi asked.
    "No. The Sisters hold everything in confidence. This is the safest place in Heaven for you to be."
    "Maybe, but staying here for long is the same as being held captive," I said.  
    "I don't expect we will be staying. We need time to determine how to reach Uriel without drawing Raguel's attention. It will be difficult while he is being held up at the Council."
    The door opened, and Josette re-entered. "Difficult, but not impossible," she said. "The Mother has agreed to see you."
    "The Mother?"
    She came in behind Josette. She was a large woman, with a big, solid frame and a large, jovial face. She reminded me of the Dalai Lama.
    "The Diuscrucis," she said, looking at me. Her eyes traveled head to toe, and my guilt increased a hundredfold. It was as though she saw right through me. She turned her attention to Josette. "We cannot help him until he confesses. His soul is not ready."
    Josette looked concerned. "Mother Hahn," she started to say.
    "No. I'm sorry, child. You know our purpose."
    "Yes, Mother," Josette said.
    "What's going on?" I asked.
    "Mercy," Mother Hahn said. "The Lord grants mercy to all who ask for it. It is this mercy which cleanses the soul. Mercy that gives us strength to carry on. Mercy that leads us down the path of the righteous and just. By confessing your sins, you will learn the healing power of His mercy."
    "What if I don't want it?" I said.
    "Then you cannot be helped, and you cannot be saved. If you will not confess, we have no more to discuss."
    I opened my mouth to argue before stopping myself. Why was I arguing,