Angel Fire

by Ella Summers

  So why had he lied for me? Nyx’s case against me was very convincing. If I hadn’t known I was innocent, I might have believed I was guilty too. If I hadn’t known I was no traitor, I might have damned myself too.

  So why was Damiel, the Legion’s Master Interrogator and hunter of traitors, taking the blame? Why was he taking the fall for me? He’d made no secret of his suspicions of me from the start, and here Nyx was, confirming that I was indeed up to no good.

  “You, Colonel?” Nyx turned to Damiel in surprise. “You took the dagger?”

  “I did.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You serve the demons.”

  “No.” The word punched through the heavy air in the room. “And neither does Cadence Lightbringer. You are inventing conspiracies.”

  Nyx was undeterred. “I am inventing nothing. Our Dark Force prisoner confirmed that an agent was sent to steal the immortal daggers.”

  “But he doesn’t know who this agent is or whether they were even successful in their mission,” Damiel pointed out. “For all we know, the agent was killed in the battle at the temple. Or there never was an agent. Maybe the Dark Force wanted you to capture this soldier, and so they fed him false information to give to you.”

  Nyx pursed her lips. “To what end?”

  “To make the Legion implode on itself.” Damiel’s eyes panned across our boisterous audience. “And see how well it’s working.”

  “You admitted to taking the dagger.” Nyx frowned. “So why lie about serving the demons?”

  “I am not lying about serving the demons.”

  But he was lying about taking the Sapphire Tear and wielding its power. I’d done that.

  A cool, silver sheen slid over Nyx’s blue eyes. “It all makes sense now. You. It was all you.” Her gaze flickered briefly to me. “She is too good of a soldier, too perfect at following orders, to betray us. But you.” She scowled at Damiel. “You’ve been taking things into your own hands for years. I humored you because you got results. Or did you really get results? All those traitors we caught and sentenced to death…did you actually free them? Were their deaths just a trick, an illusion? Did you send them back to their demon masters? Your demon masters.”

  “You’re getting delusional, Nyx,” Damiel laughed. He looked very relaxed for someone who was being accused of high treason.

  Nyx glanced at the guards holding me. “Release her. And take Colonel Dragonsire into custody.” She pointed at Damiel. “You know the punishment for your treachery is death.”

  Damiel said nothing.

  But I couldn’t say nothing. I couldn’t let him take the fall for me, not even if I too was innocent. I would not allow him to die because of me. I was about to speak, to tell Nyx that it was I who had taken the Sapphire Tear.

  Say nothing, Damiel’s voice spoke in my mind.

  I tried to speak, but his magic tied my tongue and muted my words. He locked his siren magic tightly around me, and he wasn’t letting go. His will had usurped my own. I struggled against his spell, but as I’d told him before, my siren magic was not strong, certainly no match for the Master Interrogator’s power. I could not break free of his siren’s song. I was just…frozen.

  Frozen as I watched a pair of Nyx’s soldiers grab hold of Damiel and pull him across the room. Frozen as they chained him to a stone pillar.

  Since the First Betrayer, judgment at the Legion of Angels had become merciless and the punishments swift. This was a firing squad. They were going to kill him right here and now.

  The soldiers moved a few paces away from him, then turned and aimed their weapons at his head. I knew those guns. They were the ones used by the Legion’s executioners. Their barrels were as black as the magic within. They fired Venom bullets, pure poison to anyone with light magic. And angels had the most light magic of anyone on Earth. Damiel would not survive this.

  I tried to break free of his spell, but I just couldn’t. He was too powerful. I pushed and pulled with every bit of magic I had, but for every move I tried to make, his magic countered mine.

  I tried to use my passive magic to absorb his spell, but I wasn’t the only one with that power. So Damiel wasn’t just a Hunter; he had the magic of the Spell Breakers in him too. He gobbled up every spell I tried to use against him to break free.

  My surprise at that realization—that like me, he could also wield several flavors of passive magic—was overshadowed only by my utter desperation to save his life. With every passing moment, fear gripped me more tightly. I couldn’t move or speak, and I wouldn’t be able to until it was too late, until Damiel’s death released me from his spell.

  Do not attack the soldiers after my death, Cadence, he spoke in my mind. Be the perfect soldier, as I know you are. Watch your back. Do not do anything that will give my successor, the new Master Interrogator, any reason to suspect you.

  Stop this, Damiel, I pleaded with him. Please. Don’t do this. Wet tears rolled down my cheeks.

  You will obey my commands. You will live. You will not avenge my death. Otherwise, I will have died for nothing.

  You are dying for nothing! I screamed inside my head. You didn’t do anything!

  I have done more than enough in my many years as Master Interrogator. More than enough to deserve to stand before a Legion firing squad several times over. I have been responsible for putting many people before this firing squad. I allowed my suspicions to consume me. I dug and dug until I found something incriminating. No one is perfect. Everyone is guilty if you dig deeply enough. His dark, humorless laughter echoed in my head. Chasing my own tail indeed.

  He was repeating my earlier words back at me. He was telling me I was right.

  I didn’t care about being right! I’d rather be wrong and for him to live.

  You’re a good person, Damiel.

  No, I’m not. But you are, Cadence. And you don’t deserve to die because of this witch hunt. If someone is to die, at least it should be someone who has earned it.

  You don’t deserve to die!

  I slammed my magic against his. The impact shook me from head to toe, but I still couldn’t take a single step—or utter a single word to save him.

  His magic softly brushed my cheek, as though he were right in front of me, not across the room. As though it were his hand stroking my cheek, not his magic. As though it were his lips whispering into my ear, not his mind speaking telepathically into my head.

  Promise me you won’t attack the soldiers, he said. Promise that you won’t avenge my death. That you won’t dishonor my sacrifice.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. I can’t make that promise.

  Sure you can.

  Again I felt the soft touch of his magic against my cheek, caressing my face. Comforting me.

  Nyx raised her hand.

  The soldiers cocked their guns.

  “Fire,” she commanded.

  Magic flashed, bright and blinding. My first thought was that this was my father’s doing, his magic, that he was mounting a rescue.

  But then doubt set in. I was in the clear. Nyx’s soldiers had released me. The First Angel no longer believed me to be a traitor. Her suspicions had shifted to Damiel. My father would never risk his career, let alone risk his life, for Damiel Dragonsire. Quite the contrary. He’d be glad to see the angel he mistrusted above all others gone from this Earth. He probably shared Nyx’s belief that Damiel was guilty.

  Well, I did not.

  The blinding light began to fade. My eyes were returning to normal. I blinked, not understanding what I was seeing.

  Nyx and her soldiers were gone. Storm Castle was gone. Damiel and I were back in the temple’s treasure room. And the Sapphire Tear still rested on its pedestal, unclaimed.

  Faith stood in front of us. “I knew you had it in you,” she said to Damiel.

  A crinkle formed between his eyes. “This was a test.” His voice was low, hard.

  “A test of your character, yes,” replied Faith. “A test to see if you could look past all your s
uspicion, see past all the supposed evidence, to feel what is right.” A smile lit up her face. “And you passed. You are a worthy Immortal Heir.”

  “Damiel is the Immortal Heir?” I asked.

  “You are both heirs to the Immortal Legacy,” said Faith. “You are bearers of Immortal blood, descendants of the Immortals who once ruled the known universe. People of light and dark magic, of active and passive magic.” She braided her fingers together. “We have been waiting millennia for this day—the day the heirs seized their destiny and claimed these immortal artifacts.”

  Damiel considered her closely. “You are not a simple fire bearer in this temple.”

  Her smile widened. “No, I’m not.” Magic rippled across her body, and she began to glow.

  “You are the guardian spirit,” I realized.

  “Yes. Long have I waited to find a worthy heir to the Immortal Legacy, and now there are two.” She gestured toward the pedestal. “Take the Sapphire Tear, Damiel Dragonsire. Take it and claim your destiny.”

  Damiel looked at the dagger for a long moment, then he stepped forward to take it. As his fingers closed around the hilt, a pleasant buzz rippled up my arm from the Diamond Tear in my hand.

  “Now go, heirs to the Immortal Legacy,” said Faith. “Wield these immortal artifacts in battle. Use them to expel the Hive and save the people of this world.”

  “And then?” I asked.

  There was more to this than a single battle. I knew there was.

  Faith smiled. “You shall see. Your journey has only just begun.”

  23

  Fusion

  Damiel and I ran out of the Reliquary, through the throne room, and up the stairs to the foyer. Unlike in Faith’s illusion, the real Hive soldiers hadn’t yet broken through the temple gates. The doors shook, rattling violently with every hit. It sounded like the Hive was pounding against them with some kind of battering ram, supercharged with their collective magic spells.

  “What are you doing in here!” shouted the blue lady, the Magic Eater who’d enthusiastically condemned us outside the temple before dragging us into town.

  She was busily directing a group of Magic Eaters in their efforts to reenforce the gate.

  “They stole the Sapphire Tear,” growled her friend, the red lady. “They broke into the Reliquary.”

  Anger flashed in the blue lady’s eyes—but then she saw the Sapphire Tear was glowing in Damiel’s hand, and the Diamond Tear in mine.

  “Those daggers only glow when wielded by the Immortal Heir,” she said in a hushed whisper.

  The red lady’s wide eyes locked onto the two glowing daggers. She and her friend were frozen. Frozen by this reminder of the Immortals’ power—and their rekindled belief that those deities of the past were still watching over them, still helping them, even to this day.

  “The Immortals sent you to us to save us,” said the blue lady, her voice reverent.

  “We’ll do our best,” I replied, even though she’d planned to throw us onto the bonfire. I wasn’t going to let everyone here die because they had a few trigger-happy nuts living among them.

  “How many enemy soldiers are there?” Damiel asked them, practical as always.

  “Two hundred,” the red lady told him.

  That was more than there had been in Faith’s illusion.

  “There are twice as many soldiers here now compared to the force the Hive sent for their last raid on our temple,” the blue lady said. “And we barely managed to push them back that time. I hope you have a few tricks up your sleeves.”

  “Always,” I said.

  Magic flashed, and my wings appeared. White and shiny, the tips shimmering like the sun, they glowed as brightly as the daggers. Beside me, Damiel had let out his wings as well. The black feathers were as dark as a starless night. Looking at his wings felt like staring into the endless abyss.

  The blue lady gaped at us. “This is the Immortals’ will,” she muttered.

  “The prophecy is coming true. The Heirs have come to pave the way for the Immortals’ return.” The red lady looked at us, stars in her eyes. “You were chosen.” She bowed her head.

  Wood groaned and cracked. The gates split open. Daggers raised, Damiel and I rushed forward to plug the stream of Hive soldiers pouring into the temple. The glow spread from the daggers we held, encasing our bodies. Smooth and silky, warm and comforting, I felt the dagger’s power connect to me and my magic.

  But that wasn’t all. I could feel Damiel’s dagger too. And through it, Damiel himself. It was like everything had melted together—our magic and minds, our bodies and souls. I could no longer tell where I ended and Damiel or the daggers began. We were all one in that moment of perfect fusion and harmony. My mind was clear. Everything was clear. I knew what we needed to do. We all knew what we needed to do.

  Our magic blended perfectly, combining with the daggers’ spell-breaking and teleporting powers. Together, we broke the bonds between the Hive soldiers. We turned them from one cohesive unit, into a bunch of disjointed parts and pieces. Then we opened up a portal and sent them far, far away—back to their own world.

  But we didn’t stop there. Our magic dove deeper, disconnecting the Hive’s magic mirrors that linked their world to other worlds. Other worlds they would raid for treasures. We exiled the Hive, isolating them on their own world. So they could never hurt anyone ever again.

  Every step of the way, I was so sure of what to do and how to do it. It felt like I was accessing a memory, yet I could not remember ever doing anything like this before.

  It felt so different than Faith’s illusion. There, the magic had just happened. There hadn’t been this sense of peace, of purpose, like we were meant to do this.

  Well, of course there hadn’t been anything deeper. That had been only an illusion. And this was more real than anything I’d ever done.

  Our spell now complete, the Hive soldiers were gone. It was just us and the Magic Eaters now.

  The glow faded from my body and the Diamond Tear. I sighed, still basking in those wonderful feelings of wielding the daggers, of connecting to them, to Damiel. I looked at him, for the first time truly seeing him. I’d seen into his soul, and he’d seen into mine.

  “Damiel…”

  He brushed his hand across my cheek. “Cadence.”

  “You did it!” The blue lady cut between us, shaking my hand, then Damiel’s. “You really are the Heirs!”

  The Magic Eaters surrounded us. This time, they didn’t attack us. They thanked us.

  I hardly saw them. I stared at Damiel. I just couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him. Though the magic glow had faded from our bodies, the feeling of him, of his magic and his soul linked to mine, still lingered on. It was the most intimate experience I’d ever had.

  Sun rays hit the temple, lighting up the stones. The Magic Eaters began to sing an Immortal hymn.

  I jolted out of my trance. The sun had risen. And in a few hours, the sun would rise on Storm Castle. My Dragon ceremony would be starting soon.

  “We have to go,” I told Damiel.

  He took my hand. I wished he’d never let go of it.

  “The guardian spirit chose you to wield the daggers,” said the young priest Illias. “Take them. Follow the path the Immortals chose for you. Fulfill your destiny. Let the daggers guide you. Allow them to show you the way to bring back the Immortals.”

  I waved the Magic Eaters farewell, then drew the Diamond Tear. It responded to my thoughts instantly, transporting us back to my room in Storm Castle, to the exact spots we’d stood before departing on this adventure.

  I looked out the window. It was still dark outside, still night. However, soon the sky would grow lighter, and the sun would rise on a new day.

  “Your Dragon ceremony will begin shortly,” Damiel said.

  “Yes.”

  He took a step back. “I should go.”

  As he turned away, I set my hand on his arm.

  He stopped and looked at me, waiting for m
e to say something.

  “I know you weren’t planning on attending. And I know you’ve seen so many Legion ceremonies before. But I’d really like you to be there.” I was babbling so fast, I nearly tripped over my tongue. “Please,” I added, meeting his gaze.

  He dipped his chin. “I will be there.”

  He turned to go again.

  And once more, I caught his arm. “Damiel, I wanted to thank you for what you did, for protecting me against the inquisition.”

  “It was not real.” His voice was soft, even gentle.

  “That doesn’t matter. We both thought it was real. You thought Nyx was going to have me executed, and you stepped in to protect me.” My throat was so tight with emotion that it was hard to speak. “You have a monstrous reputation, Damiel Dragonsire, Master Interrogator, Angel Fury—but you are a good person after all.”

  He watched me, his expression muted.

  “Say something, Damiel.”

  “What should I say?” He let out a choked laugh. “I’m not convinced that there is any good in me. Perhaps my ‘sacrifice’ was nothing more than an admission that I am bad.”

  “You don’t fool me. You are good, no matter how much you try to hide it.”

  “Don’t speak too soon,” he warned me.

  “Going to turn me in to the Legion?” I smiled at him. “Going to expose my magic and dive into my secrets? Going to gut them and share them with the Legion?”

  “I know all your secrets already.”

  “Is that so?” I was very aware of how close he was standing to me. I cleared my throat. “Well, you might find that I have a few surprises left in me.”

  His hand flashed out, claiming mine. “I look forward to discovering them, Princess.”

  There it was again, the nickname I’d always abhorred. But I loved the sound of it on his tongue.

  The power of his aura crackled across our joined hands.

  I felt a spark from the Diamond Tear strapped to my thigh. Damiel looked down at his own Sapphire Tear. He must have felt it too. Our daggers were trying to connect, to form a spark to bridge the distance between them.

  Damiel released my hand. He stroked his fingers down my face. “I won’t share your secrets. And I won’t condemn you for your Immortal blood.”