“Too bad,” Aodhan parroted.
They sat there, watching the reunion in the sky until Aegaeon flew off with Illium, toward Eh-ma’s house.
Aodhan stayed where he was, not wanting to go there while Aegaeon was around. He’d rather stay with Naasir. “Are you a proper grown-up in Raphael’s court?”
“Sometimes.” Naasir yawned. “It’s annoying, but I only do it when I want. Dmitri told me to be myself, but I know Raphael is a new archangel. I know others watch him.”
Aodhan didn’t understand much of that at all. “Are you here to do work for Raphael?”
Naasir nodded. “But I have time to see small sparkles and small blue wings.” A wild grin. “Come. I brought you presents. One from me and one from Raphael.”
“What about Illium?”
“We’ll give him his presents later.” Naasir scrambled off the roof with a grace that Aodhan had seen in no one else.
Stomach still in knots, but knowing Illium was happy for now, he flew down to join Naasir. He was still wobbly in flight, so often it was much easier to walk. And he liked to walk with Naasir. He always saw interesting things and pointed them out so Aodhan could see, too.
Once it had been a giant spider as white as the snow.
Lifting his hand, he slid it into Naasir’s warm one. “His papa’s not mean,” he said, feeling a little bad for not liking Aegaeon.
Naasir didn’t say anything for a long time.
“Nasi?”
Silver eyes locking with Aodhan’s own as Naasir crouched down in front of him. “Sometimes, small sparkles, meanness is hidden inside.” He tapped the place over Aodhan’s heart. “You see it with your heart. Listen. Remember.”
He got up, squeezed Aodhan’s hand. “But right now, you are a cub. Cubs don’t have to worry about things like that. You just have to be Illium’s friend.”
“I’ll always be his friend.” He looked up. “And yours, too.”
Naasir’s smile was a dazzling white. “One day, small sparkles, we will be allies in battle, and we will bite all our enemies.”
Laughing together, they walked through the Refuge hand in hand, while in a cottage not far from them, a little boy grinned in his father’s arms.
15
Today
Aodhan hadn’t been able to talk to Illium at dinner, they’d been seated too far apart. He could’ve initiated mental contact, but this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have while surrounded by others—especially when Illium’s eyes kept flicking to the doors that led into the kitchen.
His muscles threatened to knot once more, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that Illium could be brutally stubborn. There was no point in attempting to lead him away from Kai even when Aodhan knew there could be nothing healthy there for his friend. Kaia was dead and gone. No matter what, Illium couldn’t re-create the past. Aodhan hoped he didn’t; hoped he didn’t talk himself into another obsession.
For now, he pitched in with the final necessities of the move. Vetra had been delayed due to injuries sustained by the people she was escorting in, would be hours yet. She, too, Aodhan thought, would appreciate the move to the coast for she loved to surf the waves. But no one wanted it more than Suyin.
“I hunger for the freedom of the endless horizon, Aodhan,” the archangel had said to him an hour earlier, as the stars glittered overhead. “Zhangjiajie has made me see that no longer am I a child of the mountains as I once was. They loom over me now, throwing shadows I cannot escape. The sea and its vast openness is what I need for this eon of existence.”
Aodhan knew her meaning well. Part of the reason he’d been able to move to New York was its proximity to the ocean. But unlike Suyin, he also loved the mountains, the reason why he’d stayed so long in the Refuge. The sunlight there was brilliant, dazzling, even painful at times. And light of any kind was freedom to him. He’d been trapped in the dark, light the taste of hope.
“Aodhan, could you carry this out?” Jae’s request had him glancing back to see her indicating a box that he knew held heavy weapons.
No one expected war, not now, but it would be foolish to go out unprepared when so many of Lijuan’s sympathizers still called China home.
“Of course,” he said, and picked up the box.
Jae herself was laden with two bags, one on either shoulder.
“Food,” she said to him. “Emergency supplies in case the hunting fails or we hit one of the toxic areas.”
Those areas were dead patches in the landscape where it was as if Lijuan’s death fog had permanently settled, turning the soil black and the area shadowy even on the brightest summer’s day. Suyin had banned angels from landing in those areas, while mortals and vampires hadn’t needed her order—they refused to go near the tainted sections.
Rii, the forty-something man who spoke for the mortals, had shivered when he told Aodhan of one such patch he’d passed on his journey to Suyin. “It smells of the dead.” Then he’d muttered prayers to a god older than Lijuan had ever been.
Despite Suyin’s order banning angels from making contact with the blackened and dead surface, Suyin had planned to land herself, to bring back samples for the scientists.
It was Raphael who’d talked her out of that. “We know I’m immune to Lijuan’s poison,” he’d pointed out at the time. “Why should you take the risk when I can do the same task without risk? Remember, Suyin, the Cadre is already down multiple members, with more than one either not at full strength or with no willingness to be in the world.”
Aodhan had been able to tell that, newborn archangel or not, it went against Suyin’s territorial instincts to acquiesce to Raphael’s suggestion, but she had finally agreed. She’d accompanied Raphael to the chosen location, however, as had Aodhan—both of them staying in the air while Raphael landed.
Aodhan had hated seeing his sire disappearing into that murky place devoid of light, had been unable to stop himself from saying, Be careful, sire. How will I face Ellie if anything happens to you on my watch?
Do not worry, Aodhan. Elena has already threatened to kill me dead if I dare get hurt. I will take every care.
Raphael had confirmed that the toxic pocket held nothing of life. No animals, no insects, no plants, not even any moss. Everything was shriveled and dead. The tests on the soil had come back inconclusive but the general consensus was to treat it as poisonous. And even though animals seemed to avoid the areas, Suyin had declared that there was to be no hunting within a mile radius of each such spot.
No one dared defy her for the simple reason that they didn’t wish to be poisoned by the darkness. Not even Lijuan’s most ardent supporters.
“Will it be enough?” Aodhan took a critical look at the amount of food in the supply truck to which Jae had directed him.
Each supply truck held a portion of everything—food, weapons, other necessities—so that the loss of one vehicle wouldn’t threaten to wipe out an entire chunk of a certain item. Aodhan hadn’t been in charge of that aspect of things, now wondered if someone had made an error—the food stores were lower than he’d have thought prudent. “How fast is Suyin planning to travel?” He slotted the box of weapons securely in between two other boxes.
Jae dropped her bags on the ground, then jumped up into the truck. As Aodhan passed her the bags to stack into place, she said, “It’s all sorted. Vetra did a flyby during this most recent run of hers to confirm any toxic spots in our travel zones, so even with any new eruptions of the fog we should be fine to hunt to bolster our supplies. There’s no lack of game—and we’ve got the gear for winter hunting.”
True enough. Nature had responded to the mass disappearance of so many mortals and immortals by filling the gap with life. Rabbits, deer, and waterfowl were just a few of the species that teemed across the landscape. The rabbit population, in particular, had exploded with a vengeance.
As if she�
�d read his mind, Jae said, “That ecology scholar—Mila—she says we need to control the rabbits anyway, before they push out other species. We might get sick of eating rabbit, but it’ll keep us alive.”
Satisfied, Aodhan helped the vampire finish loading the truck, then the two of them moved to stack supplies into a carrier designed so six angels—three on each side—could carry it with ease. No reason for angels not to help out with carriage of goods, especially since it meant some of their supplies would be safe in the air and not subject to any sudden eruptions of the black fog.
Those eruptions weren’t exactly rare, the reason why Aodhan, Arzaleya, Xan, and Vetra had planned out multiple travel routes for when Suyin decided to move her people to the sea. The eruptions didn’t cover as large an area as the toxic patches, and it was possible to predict them through ground-sensing equipment—but the scholars manning the sensors had to be within meters of the oncoming eruption.
Aodhan’s respect for them was enormous.
Some of the eruptions turned into “stable” toxic patches, while others faded away after a few days. But regardless, the travelers would have to find an alternate route to avoid any such.
In terms of general safety, the angels would go first, with the mortals below the second half of the winged cohort. The vampires would bring up the rear, with an elite squadron above them. The strong bracketing and protecting the weak.
Aodhan had become used to seeing New York’s Guild Hunters as part of the strong—highly trained and lethal, they’d fought with Tower troops during the war. It was during the war that Aodhan had truly come to know and call a number of them friends. The cheerful and witty Demarco, for one, was one of his favorite hunters. Elena had grinned when she’d found the two of them talking, but she’d never tell Aodhan why she found their friendship so interesting.
Lijuan had, however, decimated China’s Guild.
Many had left prior to the final annihilation, pulled out by the worldwide leadership of their organization when it became clear that Lijuan was no longer paying any mind to the risks to hunters in the tasks being handed to them. Many, however, had stayed.
“To leave would’ve been to abandon the entire population to vampires gone bloodborn,” Elena had said when they’d spoken on the subject. “Hunters can be mercenary, no doubt about it, but most of us are driven to do what we do—especially the hunter-born. We want to protect mortals and weaker vampires. We want to hold the line.”
The end result of it all was that there were no living hunters of the Guild currently in China. Though the Guild had reviewed its stance against China after Lijuan’s death, there’d been no need for hunters in the immediate aftermath of the war—China’d had no real vampire problem, while other territories had been overrun by bloodborn. As if with the end of war had come a blood madness.
Add in the fact that Lijuan had siphoned all other trained humans into her army, and the vast majority of China’s surviving mortals were considered vulnerable. Prey to the toxic patches in the landscape as well as to animals emboldened by the dearth of a sprawling civilization. Tigers prowled abandoned cities and wolves howled in the night.
“Illium! Over here!”
He looked up to see wings of wild blue against the night sky, Illium diving in to assist a squadron as they finalized the balancing of another sling—which was currently swinging wildly. Moving quicker than any other angel Aodhan had ever met, Illium switched sides, spiraled up, and fixed the strap that was causing the problem.
Aodhan’s best friend had always been that: quick, dazzling, overwhelming in his drive and goals.
Aodhan hadn’t cared about that for a long time, content to be in his shadow. But things had changed.
16
Yesterday
Sharine was painting a meadow scene while the two boys played through the flowers, their laughter keeping her company, when she became aware of a sudden quiet. Mother’s instincts on alert at once, she looked around her canvas.
Illium was seated in among the bluebells, his wings a carpet of an even more vibrant blue. He was watching what was probably a bug. He was of an age to be fascinated by them—but he never hurt them, not ever.
Aodhan, however . . . was right beside her.
Hand pressed to her heart, she glanced down at the little boy who’d become as dear to her as her own son in a very short time. “What is it, little one?”
Aodhan pointed with a soft child’s finger at her canvas.
Sharine smiled. “Yes, I’m painting.” Then, because she’d seen his interest other times, she picked up one of the sheets of rough handmade paper that she’d brought with her for this very reason and attached it to a thin wooden board using the device Naasir had made for her. A clip of sorts that worked with a string tie.
Her Illium would be surprised to learn that Naasir had climbed onto her roof long before Illium attempted it. He’d been so nimble as a babe that she’d known she’d never catch him, so she’d coaxed him down with his favorite treat of dried meat strips.
He still came to visit her at times. And he brought her gifts like this clip. Naasir had a very clever mind.
“Sit here,” she told Aodhan, and the gentle-natured boy sat down in the flowers next to her. “This is your canvas.” She put the flat “easel” in front of him. “And this is your brush.”
The smallest brush she’d brought along proved too large for his tiny hand, but that wouldn’t matter. Illium got tired of the “painting game” after a few minutes and ran off to do wild little boy things. No doubt Aodhan would as well once he’d satisfied his curiosity about this new thing.
Next, she put a small dab of different paints on a spare old palette.
“Yours,” she said, putting the palette on the ground next to Aodhan, since he didn’t yet have the manual dexterity to hold it in one hand, the paintbrush in the other.
Then, those extraordinary eyes focused on her, she showed him how to dip his brush in the paint, how to put that paint onto canvas—or in his case, paper. He watched with care, then copied her with equal care.
He was far gentler with the brush and paints than Illium. As she watched, he put a dab of blue on his paper, then looked out at Illium and frowned before speaking. “Not blue.”
“Yes, that’s blue.” Sharine frowned inwardly, surprised he was uncertain of his colors at this age. “Beside it is red, and—”
“Not blue,” Aodhan insisted, and when she looked at him in confusion, he pointed his paintbrush.
Right at Illium.
Oh.
“I see,” she murmured softly. “You want to make the blue of Illium’s wings?”
At Aodhan’s strong nod, Sharine showed him how to mix the colors to get different tones and shades. After she was done, she dabbed a new blue on the paper. “How’s this?” It was the exact shade she used when she painted the base color of her son’s wings; Aodhan was too young yet to learn about layering.
A huge smile. “Blue,” he said happily, and began to paint.
His creation ended up a huge blobby mess, but she could see what he’d been trying to do. He’d gotten the proportions of Illium’s body correct as compared to his wings, and he’d even managed to make a passing facsimile of flowers. Not only that, he’d made a different color on his own, melding blue and yellow to create green.
She hadn’t shown him that . . . but she had mixed up a shade of green while he sat next to her. “Well now,” Sharine murmured after Aodhan finally got up, put down his brush, and ran off to join Illium—who’d fallen asleep in the bluebells. “I think you, little Aodhan, have a gift.”
Putting down his first painting on a thoughtful nod, she turned to add to her own painting. She’d painted Illium asleep in the flowers, now added in a sparkle-eyed child seated next to him, tapping at his cheek with a bluebell.
Two wild little children as bright as stars.
17
Today
Illium was about to land when a flickering light to the far left of the stronghold caught his attention. Since the packing was done but for the final things that’d be put in right before the beginning of the journey, he decided to investigate the light in case one of the mortals had gotten caught out and was heading home in the dark.
Maximus had told him they’d seen no signs of surviving reborn, but no one was breathing easy, not after Neha’s discovery of hidden nests along her border with China. The creatures were intelligent to some level—and the general consensus was that Lijuan must’ve left nests in reserve, to act as her seed group should she lose all her reborn in the war.
That no one had found any such seed groups in China didn’t mean the theory was worthless. Especially not after the discovery of the nexus.
“Who knows how many underground lairs that monstress had built?” Maximus had growled as he threw large pieces of furniture into the back of a truck. “And what interest does any sane archangel have in an underground lair, you tell me that, Bluebell of the bluebells!”
The big angel had picked up on Illium’s nickname from Yindi, found it hilarious to make that ridiculous play on it. When Illium retaliated by threatening to call him Bighead, he’d laughed even louder before pounding his massive fists on his chest and saying, “Me giant! Me crush you!”
So of course now Illium liked the big idiot.
But jokes aside, Maximus’s statement had been apt. Illium could stand being underground, but he didn’t like it. And that was before he got to what had been done to Aodhan, how he’d been caged away from the sun.
The light flickered out just before he reached it. Concerned, he threw a little of his power into the air. It wasn’t something he did often—a showy thing, it served no purpose but to use up energy for a short burst of light. But it was worth it this time, because it illuminated the huddled body of a young girl crouched against a tree, her lantern dark at her feet and her face twisted into a rictus of terror.
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