(Max's POV)
A steady stream of people was filing through the huge middle double doors. We merged with them and tried to blend in. As we passed through the door, the air was instantly cooler and scented with something that smelled ancient and churchy and just… religious, somehow.
Inside, people split up. One group was gathering for a guided tour, and others were simply milling around, reading plaques, picking up pamphlets.
It was incredibly quiet, considering it was a building the size of a football field, full of hundreds of people.
Toward the front, people were sitting or kneeling in pews, their heads bowed.
"Let's go," I said softly. "Up there."
The seven of us walked silently down the cool marble-tile floor toward the huge white altar at the front of the church. Nudge's mouth was wide open, her head craned back as she stared at the sunlight filtering through all the stained-glass windows. Above us, the ceiling was three stories high and all arched and carved like a palace.
"This place is awesome," breathed the Gasman, and I nodded. I felt good in here, safe, even though Erasers or cops could just stroll through the doors like anybody else. But it was enormous inside, and crowded, and yet there was good visibility. Not a bad place at all. A good place.
"What are those people doing?" Angel whispered.
"I think they're praying," I whispered back.
"Let's pray too," Angel said.
"Uh-" But she had already headed toward an empty pew. She eased her way to the middle, then reached down and pulled out the little kneeler thing. I saw her examine the other people for the proper form, then she knelt and bowed her head onto her clasped hands.
I bet she was praying for Celeste.
We filed into the pew after her, kneeling awkwardly and self-consciously. Iggy brushed his hand along Gazzy, light as a feather, then mimicked his position.
"What are we praying for?" he asked softly.
"Urn-anything you want?" I guessed.
"We're praying to God, right?" Nudge checked to make sure.
"I think that's the general idea," I said, not really having much of a clue. And yet, an odd sensation came over me, like, if you were ever going to ask for anything, this would be the place to do it. With the high, sweeping ceiling, all the marble and glory and religion and passion surrounding us, it felt like this was a place where seven homeless kids just might be heard.
"Dear God," said Nudge under her breath, "I want real parents. But I want them to want me too. I want them to love me. I already love them. Please see what you can do. Thanks very much. Love, Nudge."
Okay, so I'm not saying we were pros at this or anything.
"Please get Celeste back to me," Angel whispered, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "And help me grow up to be like Max. And keep everyone safe. And do something bad to the bad guys. They should not be able to hurt us anymore. And let Cookie not be afraid of everything anymore."
Amen, I thought.
With surprise, I saw that Fang's eyes were shut. But his lips weren't moving, and I couldn't hear anything. Maybe he was just resting.
"Dear Mr. God person,"Cookie whispered,"can you please let Angel get her Celeste back. She is really sad and I don't want her to be sad. And could you please make the voice in Max's head stop 'cause it hurts Max and me to. Also give Iggy his sight back he wants to see again. And please let big brother happy, can you also give Nudge real parents she's kind of lonely. Love Cookie. Oh and P.S. please let me be braver so that Iggy and Gazzy will stop teasing me."
Cookie is such a sweet kid.
"I want to be able to see stuff," Iggy said. "Like I used to when I was little. And I want to be able to totally kick Jeb's butt. Thank you."
"God, I want to be big and strong," the Gasman whispered, and I felt my throat close up, looking at his flyaway pale hair, his eyes shut in concentration. He was only eight, but who knew when his expiration date was? "So I can help Max, and other people too."
I swallowed hard, blinking fast to keep any tears at bay. I breathed in heavily and breathed out, then did a surreptitious 360. The whole cathedral was calm, peaceful, Eraser-free.
Had that been Jeb I saw, back with the cops? Were the cops really cops or were they goons from the School-or from the Institute? What a bummer that Angel had dropped Celeste. Jeez, the kid finally gets to have one thing she cares about, and then fate rips it from her hands.
"Please help Angel about Celeste," I found myself muttering, and realized I had closed my eyes. I had no idea who I was talking to-I'd never really thought about if I believed in God. Would God have let the white-coats at the School do what they had done to us? How did it work, exactly?
But I was on a roll now, so I went with it. "And help me be a better leader, a better person," I said, moving my lips with no sound. "Make me braver, stronger, smarter. Help me take care of the flock. Help me find some answers. Uh, thanks." I cleared my throat.
I don't know how long we were there-till my kneecaps started to go numb.
It was like a beautiful peace stole over us, the way a soft breeze would smooth our feathers.
We liked this house. We didn't want to leave.