Abaddon settled into the surprisingly comfortable silence and, out of the corner of his eye, watched the angel. She seemed upset and angry; it wasn't difficult to understand why. He too saw the holy objects as they passed, barely affected by them. 

They were still holy objects and afforded him some discomfort but the owners had lost faith and rendered them essentially powerless. Faith was essential. Abaddon thought it clichéd, comparing it all to a children's movie. Why, the power was in you the whole time! Truly, we are all heroes. 

He laughed a little at his internal musings, so lost in his own thoughts, that he nearly missed the library as they neared. He stopped walking abruptly. "We're here."