When darkness covered Gotham City, Batman made his return to the cathedral. Though light from the other restaurants and shops nearby refracted off the stained glass, the great church seemed black with emptiness. Someone related to the police likely kept an eye on the building from a distance, but even if they didn't it seemed too conspicuous to talk in front door. The snow was deep on the rooftop, but the door to the belltower was unlocked.

From the bottom of the tower he stepped into the nave. Bruce Wayne had been in and out of the cathedral a few times over the course of his life and it seemed great enough then, but the building was true size and majesty was evident when it was empty and dark. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the black after the snow lightened the outside, but when it did he made out the burning of candles next to the tabernacle. And the slender body next to the statue of Saint Michael that stood before them. In the silence even Batman's most careful, deliberate steps let off soft echoes, so he moved quickly out of the light from the stained glass and positioned himself in the side aisles. The other person, if they knew he was there, did not acknowledge him.

With slow, creeping steps, Batman approached the votive candles. When five pews separated him and the other body, it rose from the kneel it held, casually, as if it knew he was there all along, and turned to face him. Batman actually double-took when he got a good look and struggled with whether to think of her as a woman or girl with her short height and small build. For her part, her eyes were squinted, she knew he was there but couldn't identify him in the shadows.

Each took account of one another for a few seconds. Since the girl stood closer to the light and dressed in white, Batman got a clearer picture of her first, his next decision moved by the stained-glass bat that adorned the front of her uniform. He'd come across his own fanatics before, but this one seemed settled and calm. Out from the dark he stepped.

When she realized who he was her eyes instantly went wide. She raised her hands up to show they were empty and then down, as if in reassurance.

"I see you. I take it you were the one who fought off that break in?"

She nodded.

Batman considered her body language. "You're not saying anything, but you're not trying to keep me quiet. Can you speak?"

The girl traced a small X over her lips and shook her head. Then she crossed to him and, with the cloth so tight over her mouth, a smile was visible if one looked hard enough. Batman responded with a nod.

"That's my symbol you're wearing. You must make you a fan of my work."

She stepped right up to him, her head only as tall as his chest, and, with two strokes of a finger, traced a cross over his bat symbol. Then she made the same motion over her own. Batman considered a response, but bit it back. Bruce's own experiments with faith since his childhood tragedy rarely left much of impression, but he was grateful to have had a hand inspiring this child.

"Were you the one who fought off that attack the other night?"

Again, the girl nodded, then raised a hand with two fingers extended and gently poked one shoulder, then the other. She then did the same with one point on the side of his stomach and another near his elbow. It was only when she opened her palm and lightly pressed it to his chest he realized what she was trying to suggest.

"Those are pressure points." Batman took a step backwards, it was his turn to stare, wide eyed. "You could have just grounded me if you'd hit hard enough."

The girl looked downward, as if she wasn't proud of that detail.

Quick to change the subject, Batman asked, "Do you know what those men who broke in were looking for?"

The girl in white nodded, took a last moment to admire his presence, and turned around. At the statue of Saint Michael that stood before the tabernacle, she bent and slipped out a hidden step. Once atop it, she reached upward and pressed a hidden button on the angel's right wrist that loosened the grip on his sword. Batman raised an intrigued eyebrow as she crossed to the altar, sword in hand, and slid the ceramic weapon into a small slot on the underside of the sacrificial table. With the twist she turned the blade upward and the altar made a click as the sides of the sword's hilt slipped into a pair of grooves. A second mechanism beneath the altar made a similar sound and, Batman noted, the floor beneath it that appeared seamless slipped upward just a fraction of an inch. The girl knelt, lifted the floor from its place, and revealed a tiny ladder and chute that led down into darkness. Batman slipped a small but powerful flashlight from its belt and handed it to his companion. She nodded her thanks and descended into the catacombs beneath the church, the dark knight just behind her.

The descent felt long, slow, and exacerbated by how little visibility the shaft allowed for. Batman allowed the young woman space to work her way downward, but she moved with the quick ease of dozens of trips. Though it felt much longer, Batman concluded it had taken perhaps three minutes of near-blind climbing to finally reach the hidden chamber's proper entrance.

He called out, "Are you still there?"

There came a small click as his guide turned on the small flashlight.

Again, Batman nodded. "Is this what you wanted me to see? Or do we need to go deeper?"

The girl didn't appear to react at first. Then, as she realized he couldn't see her, raised the flashlight to the side of her head so he could see her shake it. Batman's guide then turned the light outwards toward the chamber they'd descended into. The first thing the detective noted was the size of the room, easily at least a match for the chapel high above them. But as the light settled on something pushed against a wall, the first hints of understanding crept into him. In a glass case stood another statue of Saint Michael the Archangel and his triumph over the Prince of Darkness. But what distinguished it was the way the light shimmered brilliantly against it.

Batman closed the distance, squinted his eyes, and did his best to assure himself he wasn't mistaken. "Gold? Is this solid gold?"

His companion didn't give him a chance to contemplate further. She swept the light to a nearby rack covered in chalices and crosses, each emblazoned in decorations of silver, gold, and diamonds. She didn't linger long there either. Her light flashed all across the underground and with each movement revealed a new wall or table laden with treasure.

When she finished her truncated sweep of the catacomb, she turned the light back toward Batman.

"I understand," he said. "The church is standing on top of a cache of religious treasures and artifacts, that's why it was attacked. Someone wants to steal all of this."

The girl nodded back to him.

"The priest, does he know about this?"

Again, she gave him the affirmative.

"But is anyone else supposed to know?"

This time she hesitated, brought a hand up to her covered mouth, and seemed to consider the question.

"Let me rephrase. Is the general public supposed to know?"

The child released the loose grip over her mouth and shook her head.

"Should anyone outside of the church know?"

Once more, she shook her head.

The explanation seemed straightforward enough. The riches that laid beneath Saint Michael's far exceeded whatever the criminals' benefactor paid them to break in. The only question was how someone with the means to hire the likes of Bane had learned of it.

At last, Batman asked, "Do you know how they learned about it?"

This time the girl just stared at him. There wasn't the same hesitation she'd shown when he asked a question that was difficult to articulate with nods or shakes. By the hardened look in her eyes, it seemed she knew the answer and just refused to reveal it.

With that the two returned to the cathedral above. Batman rooted around his utility belt before he came to a single, small object with a speaker at the center and a set of five textured buttons on the side.

"This is a transmitter," he said. "The criminals out to steal from the basement might wait a few nights before they return, the media and the police have their eyes on the church right now but stories come and go quick in this city. Since you can't speak you can use these buttons on the side." He tapped on the bottom two. "Three of this button, three of this one, four more of this one, do you understand."

The girl nodded, and by the way the tight cloth around her mask seemed to stretch it was obvious she was smiling wide.

"One last thing." Batman handed her the device. "What should I call you?"

She turned halfway and referred to the statue of Michael's triumph over Satan.

"Archangel?"

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. She then opened her hands to symbolize a long length, then brought them together to suggest a shorter one.

"Angel. Understood."

-000-

Less than four miles away, on the seventeenth floor of a simply modeled Gotham skyscraper, two figures sat in front of a computer monitor. One was a round man in a chair and the other a muscled giant next to him, and all of the events that happened on the cathedral's main level played out before their eyes.

"The sword is placed in the altar, a clever trick," Bane said. "And now we know just how they get inside."

The seated man, his benefactor, took a sip from the drink at his side. "And yet you were still beaten by that child."

"If we made off with the fortune, so much the better. But if all we accomplished was planting the microcamera, that too was an accomplishment. And either way, she is no ordinary child," Bane said. "She has not felt the flow of the venom, but I have little doubt—she was brought up by monsters, just as I was."

"Well, she is a nuisance who will be dealt with." The benefactor took another drink. "I will deal with her myself."

"I will refund you half of my total if you surrender her to me."

The man in the chair paused and looked up at Bane. "What?"

"You told me she was powerful and I was intrigued. But now I am fascinated." Bane rested a meaty hand on the table as the video settled on the sight of the girl. "She could be a fine project if she could be made to see things my way."

With a glug of the last of his drink the benefactor said, "All right, fine. Deliver me my fortune, and you can have her."