Python bared his teeth, revealing snake’s fangs. His eyes flashed. His handsome face contorted as he opened his jaws, as if to strike and force venom into her veins. “What are you?” he hissed.
Around her, she felt air waft from two great leathery wings.
Sophia felt her entire self burning and blazing. “You’re about to find out.”
The winged Kirin that had been circling them all the while burst from the ether where it had been hiding, rearing up over Python with its paws flailing.
He gazed up at it in shock. An expression of pure incredulous wrath touched every feature of his face.
And in that second, its great horn pierced right through his chest.
Python gasped, and blood bubbled up his throat as he grasped the horn. He stared at Sophia, and then the Kirin flung its head to the side, pitching him right into the wall. Rocks clattered to the floor with him and his body slumped. He tried to speak, but didn’t seem capable of more than a croak.
Sophia gripped the Kirin, and as it lowered to the ground, set herself on its back between its enormous wings.
They flapped powerfully, scattering rocks beneath them in every direction.
If she wasn’t quick, she would lose her chance to escape. Sophia’s sole hope rested on the possibility that Nina, Troy, and the others had infiltrated the tower.
She glanced one last time at Python and set the Kirin into a gallop, leading them straight to the window.
Then she and the powerful beast soared right out into the deep dark sky.
Twenty-five
HEAVEN IALDABOTH
Sophia lied to me . . .
Angela still couldn’t hear, or see, or even speak, but her mind hadn’t stopped working since the moment it flickered to life after such shocking cold and darkness.
No . . . worse, Sophia didn’t trust me enough to tell me the entire truth about our relationship from the beginning.
Angela felt herself struggling to awaken, but her eyes remained sealed shut. It felt like heavy stones weighed her eyelids down.
WAKE UP.
Angela jerked upright, gasping for breath and clutching her arms to her chest.
She felt the rough fabric of the Academy clothes she’d been wearing, and she patted her hands down to the skirt. Icy cold still worked its way through her, but Angela wasn’t soaked at all anymore. How long had she been asleep? What was happening right now? It was so bright, she still couldn’t see. Her eyes throbbed painfully, and her left eye also burned more than ever. She clapped a hand over it, trying to suck in the pain.
After another minute, she shifted onto her elbows, and a jangling noise erupted from the pocket of her skirt. Angela knelt and rubbed at her eyes again. They still hurt, but now she could probably see what was in her pocket. She reached inside, grasping an icy metal chain.
Angela lifted it in front of her face. It was Kim’s necklace, complete with the filigreed hourglass pendant.
Strangely, the grains were now at the top again, filtering slowly to the hourglass’s bottom.
Nausea overtook her. Kim was dead, and Angela’s last moments with him had been far from ideal. Memories of their first kiss overtook her, and once again, she felt his warm lips and tasted their sweetness. Once more, she saw the hardness and coldness of his demeanor grow into warmth and protectiveness. Like her, Kim had built walls. Was this how he’d been repaid for sacrificing so much for her sake?
Hot tears slipped down Angela’s cheeks. She swallowed hard and tried to calm down. Her entire body shook like a leaf anyway.
He’s gone? I’ll never accept that.
Angela studied the intricate hourglass. She couldn’t remember how it had ended up in her pocket. She and Kim had been side by side at one point. Perhaps he’d slipped it into her skirt pocket while Angela was distracted.
Now his haunted face and silence made sense. Kim’s anguished tears while in the mansion where he’d rescued her tore Angela apart all over again.
Kim had known he was going to die.
Maybe I’m not alive either right now. I don’t know where I am, after all. It’s so quiet here. But I wonder . . . why is the hourglass working again? Does that mean anything?
Angela stared at the red grains one last time with a painful and illogical hope swelling her heart, and then she slipped Kim’s necklace back into her pocket.
She glanced around. Her tear-blurred eyes had adjusted to the powerful light at last. She was in a wide-open space flanked by crystalline pillars that reached so high, there seemed to be no ceiling. It was actually darker than she’d realized, but still far brighter than Hell or Luz. She could have been surrounded by a garden of rainbow jewels. Space appeared through the gaps between the pillars, and the galaxies and stars shone so powerfully that Angela realized they were the reason her eyes hurt.
A low humming noise pervaded everything. It had been so subtle, she didn’t even notice it after awakening.
But now Angela could make out a faint melody.
The pillars and portions of ceiling and wall she could see had been carved top to bottom in strange symbols that looked like constellation patterns. Those also glowed with a soft bluish light. Yet there was no Mirror Pool beside her.
So how had she ended up here—wherever “here” was?
A sound of murmurs and voices reached her, and she turned around. Three figures approached one another from opposite directions. Wings took shape before her and then familiar faces and forms. It was Raziel and Lucifel—and Sophia. Raziel wore his jewel-studded blue coat, and the four blood-red wings extending from his back looked more majestic than ever. Lucifel appeared spartan compared to her sibling. Her gray coat nearly blended with her smoke-colored wings and hair, and a thin coronet on her brow bore a single round green jewel. A strange emptiness hollowed out her already chalky complexion.
Sophia was in a scarlet dress decked with ribbons. She looked exactly like the Sophia Angela had always known, but her steps were more tentative, and her expression more uncertain. The second her gaze met the jewel on Lucifel’s brow, she blanched frightfully.
Wait—they were coming closer.
What is this? I’ve seen Raziel’s memories, but that was different. I still felt separate from all that I witnessed. But this is . . . the same as reality.
None of them seemed to see Angela. Angela smarted in pain, slapping a hand over her eye. She took deep breaths and waited for the angels and Sophia to come closer.
Soon, they were only a few feet away. Angela tried to look away from Lucifel’s commanding presence, but it was impossible. Her lined and flashing red eyes demanded attention with every darting glance.
Sophia looked like a porcelain doll at Raziel’s side.
He was the first to speak. “Why are you doing this?” he murmured to Lucifel. “Why this war? Is there nothing I can do to stop you from crusading against Israfel, against the Father—”
Lucifel held up her hand, signaling for him to stop. “I’m doing it, because I can win,” Lucifel said.
“How? The angels working to see you on the Throne aren’t numerous enough.”
“That’s not the victory I’m referring to,” Lucifel retorted even more softly.
Raziel appeared to notice the deadly coldness all over her face. Now he also saw the gem on her brow. But it was no ordinary stone. It was unmistakably the Grail—the Eye that was now Angela’s eye. Sophia hadn’t taken her gaze off it once.
“Ah, so you’ve noticed my new trinket,” Lucifel said.
Raziel’s already large blue eyes widened. “You didn’t,” he began.
“Oh, but I did,” Lucifel murmured. She crossed her arms. “Raziel, brother, do you know? The Father has revealed his feelings at last. He told me that if I ever stepped into his presence again, I would nevermore see the light of Malakhim. He has rejected me. In favor of Israfel. Forever.”
“No, he wouldn’t—”
“Yes,” Lucifel spat with sudden viciousness. “And so I took the trinket he c
lutched to his heart so madly. Its power is mine now. So you can either join in my revolution or watch it unfold. Make your choice.”
“We have two chicks between us—children who need a mother—”
“I am no mother,” Lucifel said even more viciously. “And I refuse to raise them in the loneliness of this Realm. My place is on Israfel’s Throne, seeing to it that his decadent regime no longer exists. The lie that those chicks have been executed can and should continue. The Father’s influence over us must die once and for all. Because I’m certain he’s lied to us about our identities, our origins, and our ultimate fate at his feet. Israfel is too in love with you to come to terms with any of this. He’s so twisted, he doesn’t even understand the danger he’s carrying within himself. He’s merely accepted it for the torment that it is—for your sake. His blind infatuation will be the death of us all.”
“What are you talking about?” Raziel shouted back.
“He is carrying an infant within himself,” Lucifel said, her voice soft with danger. “All along he’s refused to accept his true dual nature, and now the Father has forced him into a sick slavery.”
Sophia lowered her head, her features shadowed and her mouth set in a tight line.
When she lifted her head again, she looked directly at Angela. She could see Angela—it was written all over her face.
Angela froze, unable to think for a moment. So many feelings warred within her.
She could only stare back at Sophia. Even when Sophia smiled upon noticing the white sapphire pendant at Angela’s chest—and she certainly seemed to have guessed at its significance—Angela couldn’t smile back. A strange and painful wedge had been driven between them.
Sophia lost her smile. Her eyes glazed over with tears.
“—and I can’t understand why you bring this vapid doll wherever you go,” Lucifel said to Raziel. She stood over Sophia, examining her up and down in a chill and calculating way. “What have you been looking at all this time?” Lucifel said to Sophia coolly. “Tell me now. I’m tired of guessing at what your vacant stares mean.”
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Raziel said with surprising firmness.
Lucifel looked directly at where Angela remained on her knees and narrowed her burning red eyes.
Then she regarded Sophia again. “Well? What’s so interesting?”
“I enjoy the stars,” Sophia whispered, clearly swallowing back tears. She seemed to have a hard time lying.
Lucifel turned away from her, looking as uninterested as possible. She walked up to Raziel and touched his face, caressing his cheek. All too soon her face dropped into its studied coldness again. “If you care too much for Israfel, I’ll make sure to do what you can’t, and put him out of his dangerous misery. I was born as a shadow, after all. What’s one more descent into the darkness?”
Then she walked away into the blackness that seemed to lead toward the stars.
Raziel watched her go. After a long and painful time, he spoke to Sophia. “Come. We should return to Malakhim.”
But Sophia continued to examine the glittering stars. She sighed heavily. “Everything is my fault,” she said with heartrending sadness. “And I’ve waited for too many cycles of time to remedy the sin that has led us to this point. Promise me that you’ll watch over the Archon when She appears. No matter what, Raziel. She’ll need your protection. Because She will be so weak existing as a creature even lower than the angels, and subject to so much pain. Her destiny is a difficult one. We can’t let this chance escape us to set things right. There might never be another . . .”
Raziel watched Sophia carefully, seeming to consider what she was saying. Then he smiled at her. “Of course,” he murmured.
He walked up to her and stood by her side, both of them gazing out into the infinite sea of space beyond the pillars flanking their sides.
“Have you noticed that the Angelus’s notes are changing?” Sophia said to him. “One of my children—your ‘Father’—is now utterly beyond salvation. If you confront him, I fear—”
“No. Don’t be afraid anymore,” Raziel said. He took Sophia’s hand.
Slowly, he knelt before her and kissed the back of it with reverence.
Tears rolled down Sophia’s face.
“I believe that this change will be a good thing. Perhaps you should take it as a sign that the time has come to let go of your original purpose. As you said, you need to concentrate on finding the Archon when She arrives. I’ll be certain to help you. I don’t know how, but I promise, I will find the soul of your missing child and bring it back to you.”
“Thank you,” Sophia whispered between her tears. She turned away from him again, and her face became deeply solemn.
Raziel let go of her hand and walked away in the direction of Lucifel and the angelic city.
Sophia and Angela were now alone.
Angela got up onto her feet. Step by step, she walked over to Sophia. She felt like this was all a dream, knew it wasn’t, and yet couldn’t bring herself to speak or act like she would ordinarily. Angela replaced Raziel by Sophia’s side and stared with her out at the numberless stars.
“Do you hate me?” Sophia whispered.
Angela hugged herself, rubbing her cold arms. “I don’t know,” she whispered back. “You’ve kept so much from me. How am I supposed to know what to do next? How should I feel? Go ahead and tell me if you can.”
Sophia lowered her head. She spoke again after a while. “Aren’t you curious why you’re here and why I can see you?”
“Of course,” Angela said. “But I don’t know what good an explanation will do me at this moment.”
Angela clenched her hands and shut her eyes, trying to think.
Sophia turned and looked at her keenly. “Tell me it all happens as I’ve hoped and prayed. Tell me that you are succeeding, because your face says otherwise. Yet I can’t imagine how you’ve come to the past if at least some of your power has yet to return to you.”
This is the past . . . I traveled back into time. No wonder the hourglass is working again. But how?
“I don’t know if I’m succeeding,” Angela said. “What I do know is that everything I thought was the truth about myself is some kind of lie. And you—the one person I trust above and beyond anyone else—fed me those lies.”
“No, I would never lie to you to hurt you,” Sophia said. She touched Angela’s cheek, begging her to look Sophia in the face. “All I can possibly do is whatever it takes to keep you from despairing.”
“Keep me from despairing?” Angela demanded angrily. She stepped away. “You told Raziel to protect me—”
“—and he did,” Sophia said. “Your hair—”
She reached out to touch Angela’s blood-red hair, but Angela shook her head and stayed at arm’s length. “Well, Raziel’s spirit within me was the sole reason I’ve suffered so much. Because of him I was born into a world that hated me before I ever existed.”
Sophia’s face paled even more. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to suffer through such a life.”
“Why am I here?” Angela said. “Who am I really? I want answers, and the Sophia I know right now refuses to give them to me.”
“Because she certainly remembers this conversation,” Sophia said, her voice breaking. “Because learning how many times you’ve existed only to die again in the same way would destroy your soul and drive you mad. So she kept that from you. Because she is your mother, and a mother does anything and everything for her children—until they are beyond all possible help.”
How can I believe that? Is it a matter of not wanting to believe? My mother Erianna didn’t do anything and everything for me, so how am I supposed to understand so easily?
“I want to know who you are. Right now,” Angela said. She grasped Sophia by the wrist. “Now.”
Sophia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She turned away.
“Now, Sophia. You’re not just the Book
of Raziel. I’ve always guessed that much.”
“You wouldn’t understand where I come from,” Sophia said, her fathomless eyes downcast. “But I can tell you that it was my choice to help life flourish and exist throughout the universe. Now, everything has gone wrong. Now I see that you and the other child I brought to this existence were never meant to live in it, and its currents tugged on your spirits too much and too soon. Your twin murdered you before I could bring you both into the world like you deserved. And in that moment, my material body perished. I fell into the Abyss, and my soul remained trapped there until every last star burned out and I was left alone to experience the cycle beginning anew. But something changed this time—Raziel is here. My prayers . . . have been answered . . .”
Angela breathed hard, feeling utterly lost. She tried to fathom how old Sophia must be and couldn’t. She looked at her hands and still felt herself to be human. What Sophia said only seemed to skim the surface of the truth no matter what words were used.
“This time, Raziel found me in my prison of sorrows,” Sophia continued. “But I fear it’s too late. I fear what the enmity between Israfel and Lucifel means. They are unstable, and I truly believe that one of them will precipitate our ultimate ruin. I can’t allow that to happen. Not when I am so close to redeeming this universe.” Sophia’s anguished voice now grew angry, and she gritted her teeth. “Yet—what can I do? I can’t approach your twin—the Father. He must never know of my existence. Your soul is lost right now, and I speak to you only by special circumstances I can never hope to repeat. I am powerless—a doll, a replica of who I used to be. And I can no longer remember the final stanzas of the song that existed here even before I did, that I sang when you were still a burning light next to my heart, and that continues as it is only because of your twin’s voice. Raziel has sealed those stanzas away—in anticipation of you.”
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