The wind blew back her hair, revealing even more of the flawless lines of her face. “As soon as we unearthed the nexus, I knew I’d been wrong to believe this place had escaped my aunt’s malevolent shadow—but though we kept the knowledge of the nexus from the mortals, they feel the lingering whisper of her evil.”
A cloud of quiet sorrow over her bones. “They will die here,” she murmured. “If I make them spend the winter in this place, I will wake in spring to a graveyard of lost souls.”
She shook her head, steel cutting through the sorrow when she next spoke. “I refuse to permit Lijuan to reach out from beyond death to snatch victory. It may not be the best time to move, but move we will.
“We depart this place on the dawn to come, even if we have to leave behind a few objects and possessions. Who will steal them? We’ll store them in the stronghold, lock it up against any curious animals, and I’ll send a team back in the spring to do a retrieval.”
“It should go smoothly,” Aodhan said into the quiet after her words. “It’s not only the mortals who haven’t truly unpacked. We all knew this was only a temporary sojourn. No one has put down solid roots.”
“Good.” Suyin stopped, shifted so she faced the two of them, her face smooth and as hard to read as Aodhan’s. Perhaps it was a mechanism of endurance, of protection—she had, after all, survived an eon in captivity.
As Aodhan had survived.
Illium’s gut tensed, his rage as scalding and acidic today as it had been on that awful day when he’d learned what had happened to Aodhan, what had been done to him.
“We’ll begin the journey to the coast without either of you.” Suyin’s words demanded all his attention. “I have another task for you.” Hands on her hips and gaze attentive, she was the epitome of a warrior at that instant. “Vetra has come across something strange in her most recent survey of the territory.”
Vetra, Illium knew, was Suyin’s spymaster. She’d been junior to Titus’s spymaster, and had moved courts with the blessing of her archangel. She’d never have progressed any further with Titus, since his spymaster was brilliant and long established in her position.
“Another surprise?” Aodhan’s voice held a thread of the intimacy Illium had expected—the kind that formed between people who’d been fighting side by side for an extended period.
An ugly heat twisted his gut.
He clamped down on it. Hard.
His mother had given him good advice more than once in his life. But the piece that applied here was that he must not be jealous of Aodhan’s growth—even if that growth took him away from Illium.
“What if he decides that the man he’s becoming wants nothing to do with me?” he’d asked, his heart raw with the pain of it.
“Then you’ll let him go.” Love in every word, her fist held against her heart. “Freedom and love are entwined. And you, my blue-winged boy, you love more deeply than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Suyin’s voice broke into the echo of memory. “It may be nothing,” she said in response to Aodhan, her eyes holding his in that secure, unforced intimacy that made Illium’s gut churn. “But given how many secrets my aunt kept, I can’t do anything but examine everything with a critical eye.”
Illium had to admit he’d have done exactly the same in her position.
“On her way home, Vetra stopped at the hamlet beyond the stronghold.”
Aodhan glanced at Illium. “A small group of citizens, about fifty or so, who survived the fog. They’re based a ten-minute flight from here.”
Illium had heard of these pockets of life—random and scattered across China. Never more than half a mile across, mostly much smaller than that. The working theory was that Lijuan’s deadly fog had been thin in places, or had been affected by local geographical formations. No one knew for sure.
“The problem is that Vetra found no signs of life,” Suyin said. “But she found no bodies or other signs of death, either. However, she had little time to investigate before she had to turn back—we got word of a group heading this way and she’s gone to guide them safely to the stronghold.”
Suyin pushed back her hair. “Given their slow speed, she won’t make it here until late into the night—she’s volunteered to go back to the hamlet, but I want her with us when we leave this place.”
“She’s been far from home for many weeks,” Aodhan said in quiet agreement. “Even spymasters cannot always fly alone.”
“Exactly so, my second.” Pursing her lips, Suyin blew out a breath. “Vetra herself said that it’s highly possible she missed things in the settlement. She is certain that all their belongings remain in the houses—boots, clothes, food supplies, tools—which works against the theory that they slipped off into the forests and away from me out of a lingering sense of loyalty to my aunt.”
Illium thought of the events that had taken place in Titus’s lands. It was instinct to reach out to Aodhan. Could it be another infected angel? Angels weren’t meant to get sick, but the Cascade had brought with it the gift of disease. The first known case was violent.
Concern in the look Aodhan shot his way. We’ve found no signs of anything like that, but it’s an expansive territory.
That an archangel as old and as formidable as Lijuan had left behind a plethora of deadly secrets was no surprise. Elena had muttered as much to him when she hugged him good-bye prior to his flight here. “Watch your back, Bluebell—and remind Aodhan to watch his. I don’t trust our psychotic neighborhood archangel not to have left behind a vicious surprise or three.”
“Vetra,” Suyin added, “would’ve taken the empty homes to be a result of human raiders who’ve escaped our net, or those few starving bloodborn vampires who remain in the wild, but she saw no obvious signs of violence or a hasty departure.
“The scholars keeping a record of the population have also triple checked with the mortals and vampires settled around the stronghold. The citizens of the hamlet are not within their number.”
An eerie stillness in the air that made Illium’s skin turn to ice as Suyin said, “Fifty people—men, women, children, mortal and vampire—appear to have vanished into thin air.”
8
Suyin put her hands behind her back after that chilling statement, the hum of her power so subtle it was almost negligible. She had to be controlling it—archangelic power was never so muted.
Shaking off the shiver that wanted to crawl up his spine, Illium wondered if she was aware the problems her preference for such subtleties might cause her when the Cadre began to meet in person once more.
A sudden piercing look from Suyin. “What are you thinking, Illium? I can all but feel your concentration.”
Caught by surprise, he nonetheless held his ground. “You’re used to keeping your power contained.” It had to be a remnant of her captivity—a subconscious survival mechanism to stop Lijuan from considering her a threat. “That won’t do you any favors with the Cadre.”
A long moment of unblinking eye contact, and for the first time, he felt it. The icily practical power of an archangel. It raised the tiny hairs on the back of his neck, but he didn’t flinch. He’d been sired by an archangel, had grown up under the wing of another, had served Raphael for centuries. He understood that—no matter their outer skin—they were apex predators who didn’t trust or value weakness.
Then she gave him a small smile and the threat passed like a summer rainstorm. “It seems the two of you are in agreement.” A nod toward Aodhan. “But I will tell you this: thousands of years cannot simply be wiped away or forgotten. I have, however, never been called less than intelligent. I will take your advice onboard and attempt to appear more scary.”
Illium blinked. “Have you been talking to Elena?” Because that had definitely not been Suyin’s type of thing to say.
Laughter now, delicate and lovely. He could see why Aodhan liked being around her. She was like
him. Gentle, artistic, kind.
“No,” Suyin said at last. “Naasir.”
That was when Illium remembered that it had been Naasir and Andromeda who’d rescued Suyin from Lijuan. “He told you to be more scary?”
Suyin pretended to form claws. “Show your claws, show your teeth,” she said in an approximation of Naasir’s blunt tone with people he knew and liked. “Or the bigger predators will eat you and spit out your bones.”
Ducking his head, Aodhan coughed into his hand. “Good advice.”
“Yes, yes.” Suyin folded her arms. “You have all made your point.” But then she smiled. “Do you think I have any chance of stealing Naasir and Andromeda for my court?”
“No,” Illium and Aodhan answered at once.
What they didn’t add was that so long as Dmitri stood as Raphael’s second, Naasir would never go far. He was fiercely bonded to Dmitri—and now, to Dmitri’s wife, Honor.
“That’s what I thought. But to have two such trusted people . . .” Suyin exhaled. “I hope Raphael understands how lucky he is.”
Andromeda didn’t technically belong to Raphael’s court, but that didn’t matter here.
“It took him hundreds of years to put together his Seven,” Aodhan pointed out, careful to do so in a way that wasn’t about judgment but about offering his archangel clarity. “We were not Seven until roughly just over two centuries ago, when Venom joined our ranks. At the very start of his reign, the sire had only Dmitri by his side.”
“You are wise yet again, my second,” Suyin murmured. “I will think of this and I will practice patience.” Wings held with warrior control she’d perfected since healing from her wounds, she said, “I want you and Illium to examine the hamlet.
“But first, we will wait for Vetra’s return so she can more fully brief you—before she departed the area, she did a careful sweep over the forests to ensure the people of the hamlet were not hurt or lost in there. The trees stood silent, no voices to break its quiet.”
Aodhan understood her meaning: Whatever had taken place, it was too late to save the residents. Waiting for Vetra wouldn’t put them in harm’s way—and, harsh as it was, right now they knew the people of the stronghold settlement were alive. And those people needed their help to prepare for the journey to come.
Suyin opened out her wings in a restless movement, closed them back in. “I don’t foresee an easy answer—it is for this reason that I’d like you both to stay behind with the domestic team in charge of closing up the stronghold.”
She held up a hand when Aodhan would’ve spoken. “You know we have the numbers to do this safely—and Caliane’s elite squadron even now watches over the location where I intend to settle.” A light in her eyes. “I think I will like my citadel by the sea, across from a friend.”
Frown lines between her brows as she looked in the direction of the dark stone of the stronghold. “This is not a good place.”
“Investigating the hamlet while keeping an eye on the stronghold shutdown team seems a small task. Illium and I would be more use to you en route.”
Frown deeper, Suyin said, “I overflew the hamlet prior to our meeting to see if I could spot what Vetra might’ve missed. I had little time, but I felt an awareness of a cold evil. As if the silence of the hamlet made its whispers audible.”
Aodhan raised an eyebrow. “Are you Cassandra now, Suyin? Making prophecies and talking in riddles.”
Sudden laughter that brightened Suyin’s eyes. “Truly, I did sound so, did I not?” She shook her head. “No, it’s just an itch under my skin. You keep telling me to listen to my instincts and so I will. Stay until the shutdown team is ready to leave, see if you can unearth what it is that so disturbed me.”
“If we find nothing?”
“Then join me by the sea.” No laughter now, only a heaviness of emotion. “It may be that what I took for the kiss of evil may be a thing of quieter horror.”
Not understanding, Illium glanced at Aodhan.
Many survivors can’t deal with the grief and guilt, Aodhan told him. They choose death—for themselves and their children. Eyes of translucent blue and green shards held Illium’s. As I chose a living death for an eternity.
Illium flinched. Aodhan never talked about those years. The odd allusion to it, yes, but never anything so full frontal. As he stood there, shaken by the unexpected blow, he realized something: I don’t know this Aodhan at all.
9
Yesterday
Illium pointed. “Mama, look! Sparkles!”
His mother glanced over from where she was talking to the Teacher. Illium was too young to go to school yet, but he liked the Teacher. She was kind and had soft eyes, and when she smiled, he always wanted to smile right back.
“Oh,” his mother said, her face lighting up in a way that made him bounce. “That’s the little one you met once, when you were both babes. His parents took him with them to a remote posting soon afterward.”
“But babies stay,” Illium argued. “You said.” That’s what she’d told him when he’d asked to fly beyond the boundaries of the Refuge.
“Yes, mostly babies stay here.” She ran her hand over his hair, and he saw that she had a streak of green paint in her own hair. “Unless their parents need to travel and the location to which they’re traveling is a safe one for a child.”
Illium’s papa didn’t live at the Refuge. He wondered if he could go with his papa. Only he never would. He loved his papa, but if he went away, then his mama would be all alone. And Illium already knew that when his papa was at his court, he must be very busy. He was busy even when he came to visit Illium and his mama.
Seeing that the sparkling boy was standing alone while the woman who was probably his ma talked to another grown-up, Illium said, “I go play?”
“Be home before dark.”
As Illium began to walk toward the boy, his wings dragging, he heard Teacher say, “Don’t you worry about him wandering the Refuge on his own? He’s so small.”
“Oh, we all watch the little angels, Jessamy—you know you do it, too. And I know my tendencies.” His mother’s voice changed. “I would keep him tied to my apron strings, protect him from all harm, and in doing so, I would damage him beyond repair.” A deep breath. “So I have learned to let him go, allow him to stretch his horizons.”
Not really paying attention to the grown-up talk, Illium tried to pull up his wings as he walked over to the other boy, but it was hard. His wings were bigger than his body and they kept on scraping along the ground.
He wanted to fly, but he could only go two or three wingbeats before he got too tired and had to land. His papa had said he’d be able to fly farther and longer soon, but it was really, really, really, really, really hard to wait!
“Hello,” he said to the boy angel, who was the shiniest person Illium had ever seen. Even his hair sparkled. “I’m Illium!” He knew the boy would understand him—everyone was taught this language even if they spoke lots of others.
The sparkly boy didn’t smile, just looked at him with eyes that were all shattered but pretty. “I’m Aodhan.”
“Wanna play?”
The boy looked up at the woman with a long fall of hair as pale as the dawn sunlight Illium’s mama liked to paint, while Illium snuggled in a big and fuzzy blanket next to her, but she was still talking to that other grown-up. “I gotta wait.”
Illium tried to be pa-pa-pa—tent. He truly did. But grown-ups talked a lot. Deciding that maybe Aodhan’s ma just hadn’t seen Illium, he tugged on the bottom of her gown. When she looked down with a little jerk that ran through her body—see, she hadn’t seen Illium—he said, “Ah-dan go play?”
Green eyes bright like Aodhan’s. “Yes.” A smile that was quiet, but not mean. “It’ll do him good to make little angel friends after his time away.”
Not waiting for more, Illium held out his hand
to his new friend. “We go play!”
The other boy took his hand, and they ran off, wings dragging on the grass. They only stopped after they were out of sight of the grown-ups, their chests huffing. Then they looked at interesting stones, and Aodhan found a spotted yellow bug that they watched for a while before they decided to go someplace else.
“Ah-dan,” Illium said, trying out the name that made his tongue twist up.
“Ee-lee-um.” Aodhan made a thinking face, then pointed at Illium’s wings. “Blue?”
Laughing, Illium nodded, thought about it, then said, “Adi?”
Aodhan smiled.
At some point, they found themselves near the gorge, a massive split in the stone of the Refuge. Sneaking to the edge on their bellies, they peered down. Angelic aeries dotted the insides at the top, but there was nothing lower down. Only a darkness that made things secret.
“Papa says river there.” Illium pointed.
Aodhan squinted. “I can’t see.”
“It’s too far.” Copying his friend’s expression, Illium peered down, too . . . and noticed there were no grown-ups in the vicinity. “Wanna fly there?” he whispered.
Aodhan looked at him with those eyes that weren’t like anyone else’s. “Not allowed.” Solemn words. “Mama said.”
Illium looked down again, his heart beating too fast. “Yeah.” But his wings twitched.
“Okay,” Aodhan said suddenly.
Grinning, Illium rose and stepped a bit away from his new friend. Otherwise, their wings might tangle up. “Ready?”
Aodhan nodded, then the two of them stepped off the edge together before flaring out their wings. Illium wanted to yell in excitement but he tried to stay quiet so the grown-ups in the aeries wouldn’t bust them.
When he looked over at Aodhan, he saw his new friend was smiling for the first time, his face bright not just because he was sparkly. It was bright from the inside. Illium grinned back and they both circled down . . . and down . . . and down . . . and down.
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