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to eat, hecertainly seems to be enjoying himself,Aaron thought as he waited for an answer.
    "The wards are merely a distraction. My magickal skills are nowhere near Verchiel's and the Archons in
    his service—"
    "Archons?" Aaron interrupted.
    "Angels of the Powers who have mastered the complexities of angelic magick. They will see through our ruse sooner rather than later, but let us hope the wards will buy us enough time to find that to which you are being drawn."
    Aaron had felt the strange sensation since leavingLynn behind. He still didn't understand what it was—itseemed to be an urge, a need to travel north. ThroughNew Hampshire ,Vermont , and nowMaine , hewas being drawn inexorably northward. Even as he sat, finishing his lunch, he could feel it pulsing in hismind, urging him onward. "Do you think what I'm feeling will take us to Stevie?" he asked with hope.
    Camael had finished the last of the fries, tipping over the container to be sure it was empty. "Yourabilities are still young, Aaron. They are as much a mystery to me as they are to you."
    "But it's possible, right?" he persisted. "Like maybe I'm somehow connected to Stevie—and I'm being
    drawn to him."
    The angel nodded slowly. "It is possible," he said, his large hand stroking his silvery gray goatee. "But itmay be that you are being pulled to something else—something of greater importance."

    "I don't understand." Aaron stared intently at the angel. "What could I be drawn to if not Stevie? What
    can be more important than him?"
    The angel remained silent, continuing to stroke his bearded chin, seemingly lost within his own thoughts.
    "Camael?" Aaron prompted, raising his voice slightly.
    "It is a most elusive place," Camael finally answered, his eyes glazed. Then he turned to Aaron and fixed
    him in an intense glare. "Aerie,"   he whispered. "You could be taking us to Aerie."
    Faces flashed before Camael's eyes; images of those he'd saved from the destructive wrath ofthe Powers throughout the innumerable centuries since he'd left the angelic Host.   Where had they gone?   Itwas a question he often asked himself. Some were eliminated later, the Powers eventually tracking themand succeeding in their malevolent goals. But there were others, others who had managed to find a veryspecial place, a place that still eluded him.
    "Aerie?" Aaron was asking. "Isn't that a bird's nest or something?"
    "It is a place unlike any other on this world, Aaron, a special place—a secret place, where those who have fallen await their reunion with Heaven." Camael folded his hands before him, remembering the times when he thought he had found it—only to be sadly disappointed.
    "Have you ever been to this place?" the Nephilim asked.
    "No. The Aerie is hidden from me, for I am not fully trusted," he replied. "Remember, I was once the leader of the Powers, and they would like nothing more than to burn away Aerie and all it stands for."
    "Are you sure there really is such a place?" Aaron asked.
    Camael tried to imagine what his existence would have been like without the idea of Aerie's presence tocomfort him. He doubted he would have been able to continue his mission without the promise ofsomething better awaiting those he struggled to save—something better forhimself. "It exists," he saidquietly. "I'm sure of it—just as I know that you are of whom the prophecy speaks. And Aaron, thosewho live there, in this secret place, they   believe in the prophecy that you personify." He paused. "They'rewaiting for you, boy."
    Aaron seemed taken aback by this latest revelation. In a way, Camael felt pity for the youth and hishuman perceptions of the world. The idea of what he actually was, and what his true purpose was to be,must have been quite overwhelming for his primitive mind. Although he did have to admit that, at thismoment, the youth wasn't doing too badly.
    "All the people in Aerie—Othey're waiting for me to do for them what I did for Zeke?"
    Camael nodded,