by Kyra Quinn
Aster smacked my arm. “Rude. You don’t see me picking on that tragic haircut of yours.”
My chest tightened. “It’s not that bad.”
“It should grow back.” Aster shrugged. “Besides, what’s wrong with my outfit? I have full mobility, easy access to my stave and throwing knives, and I look fabulous. I would say I have won in the fashion arena.”
I rolled my eyes until they landed on the platform boots laced up to her knees. With leather pants that clung to her legs and a black and amethyst waist cincher laced over a simple white top, she didn’t look like much of a threat from the outside. A leather sheath rested against her thigh, three silver handles poking out from the top. She fixed me with a smile I could only describe as adorable as her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“You are way too into this. If I knew no better, I’d say you must enjoy it.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Aster sat on the steps next to me. “This is the most interesting thing to happen since I left the coven, though.”
I snorted. “Glad my struggles keep you entertained.”
“We all have struggles. Humans, Feyfolk, beggars and royalty alike. Even if we pull this off, the struggles in life won’t disappear.”
“No, but they might become less deadly,” I snapped. “I think I can manage the normal trials and tribulations of life if I’m not contending with every supernatural force in the universe trying to kill me.”
Aster laughed. “One would think, but life has a way of hitting you where you least expect it. Come inside and change. Andras says it’s almost time for me to perform the spell.”
* * *
Under Andras’s direction, Aster’s spell cast us into the center of a thick forest. A full moon hung above our heads, the normally gentle white glow a pale shade of red. Deciduous trees towered around us, their branches naked as autumn gave way to winter. A thin vapor of smoke trailed from my lips with each breath. I shivered and rubbed my hands together.
“You’ll warm up once we’re moving.” Aster hugged her cloak closer to her petite frame. I could hear the chatter of her teeth as her body shook with cold.
“If you think this is cold, wait until we cross the veil.” Andras chuckled under his breath as he led us through the woods. “The temperatures swing between blistering hot and ice cold depending on the Queen’s mood.”
The more I learned about the woman who’d given birth to me, the less I wanted to meet her. I didn’t give a damn what a wonderful person her demon pet regarded her as. I trusted Andras no more than I’d trust Zanox himself. Besides, if Daeva wanted to meet me so much, where had she been the last eighteen years of my life?
For the first half of our journey, I stayed too lost in my head to keep up with the conversation. Aster and Andras chatted up ahead of me. I tried to listen, but their voices sounded far away. I focused on the steady chirp of the crickets and the crunch of leaves beneath my boots as I steadied myself. I’d fought too hard to back out now.
Aster triple checked the trap holding Osius before we left. Despite her reassurances, doubt nagged at the back of my mind. How long could we trust her spell to hold someone as mighty as Osius? How much damage would occur if he broke free in our absence?
“Once we reach the veil, the two of you are on your own. I can’t afford to risk my position being seen with you,” Andras said.
My ears perked. “Wait. How are we supposed to figure out where to go?”
“No offense, doll, but that’s not my problem. You should have asked your mysterious employer for better directions.”
“We will be fine.” Aster answered. She glanced over her shoulder at me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t believe our employer would like us discussing the item he sent us to procure.”
Andras rubbed his chin. “Thieves, eh? I must admit, I didn’t expect that. I’d wish you luck, but it won’t do any good.”
“How much further?” Aster pivoted the conversation. “These boots have rubbed my feet raw.”
“Told you to wear something more practical,” I huffed. Not that my feet hurt any less.
“We’re not far now,” Andras said. “Can’t you sense it?”
I didn’t know what I was feeling. The more we walked, the lighter my body became. I checked twice to ensure my feet were still on the ground, but my wings hadn’t moved. A strange new energy flooded my body until I thought I my chest might burst.
“Lili!” Aster snapped. “Try to keep up. This is the last place you want to fall behind and get lost. The forest is full of spirits.”
“Your Sight is keen,” Andras said, almost impressed. “Even mages rarely sense the forgotten. Hence the name.”
I sprinted to catch up. “Who are they?”
“Souls rejected by both the light and the shadows. They leave this part out of the sermons at the Temple, but not everyone is granted an afterlife. Zanox and Osius hand-pick every soul that enters their realms after death. If both sides decline, souls are banished here. Most of them expire within a few decades, but the nasty ones can linger for centuries.”
Aster’s face tightened. “These souls are in agony—”
“Agony of their own infliction. Most of these souls belong to men far more wicked than any Prince of Shadows. Contrary to popular opinion, the Shadowrealm isn’t a haven for the mindless monsters of society.”
“So who ends up there?” I winced at the curtness of my tone. As much as it embarrassed me to be the only person left out of the discussion, the contradictions between Andras’s explanations and what I’d learned as a girl in the Temple frustrated me more.
“Hard to say what the criteria is.” Andras shrugged. “Above my pay-grade.”
“We must be close.” Aster’s face lit up like a fireplace in the winter. “There’s a shift in the energy.”
As soon as Aster finished her sentence, I felt it too. My chest tightened as the surrounding air thinned. Every centimeter of my body buzzed with a warm energy. My wings fluttered against my back.
Aster laughed. “Please refrain from flying away. I could use your help on the other side.”
“Think they got excited.”
“I don’t blame you.” A toothy grin split Aster’s face. She reached her arm out and pointed ahead. “Look.”
My jaw dropped to my chest. I staggered a few steps forward and rubbed my eyes, but the image didn’t fade. An almost sheer barrier the color of smoke cut off the trees up ahead. It rippled like the surface of the ocean, the other side too small and blurry to decipher. The crickets and crows disappeared, the woods around the barrier silent.
“This is our stop.” Andras held out his arms and said, “Please, ladies, after you.”
Aster and I exchanged a look. The moment of truth had arrived, ready or not. I wiped my hands down my pants and swallowed as Aster gave me a nod. She puffed out her chest and held her head high as she marched straight into the veil without a single glance back.
Andras’s smile stretched. “Your turn, my dear.”
It was now or never. I thought of Viktor’s face one last time as I sucked in a deep breath and mimicked what Aster did moments before. I lifted my chin and walked up to the veil with as much confidence as I could muster. We stopped just before the surface as I asked, “Aren’t you coming?”
“No can do. If I show up with you two, it’ll be obvious to Daeva and Zanox who let you in. But I’ve heard about you, camphelem. Even without your full powers, you’ll be okay. We’ll chat again when it’s time to pay up.” He pressed his hands against my back and gave me a hard shove. I opened my mouth to scream, but wind trapped my voice in my throat. The next thing I knew I fell into the abyss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Right Side of History
“This. Is. Bullshit.” Viktor slammed his drink down on the table in front of him. Ambrosia spilled from the edge and onto his hand, but he didn’t pause to wipe away the sticky booze. He had heavier things on his mind.
The hum of
conversation filled The Grumpy Goddess. He’d come hoping to find Jett, but one whiff of the tavern told Viktor there were no other shifters in the area. A handful of faeries and an eccentric djinn, but no shifters.
Remiel took a swig from his glass. He had said little since their departure from Aster’s house. His icy eyes remained glued to his beverage as he sighed. “This is not the outcome either of us wanted.”
“Bullshit.” Viktor’s throat tightened as he opened and closed his fists. Too close. He’d come too close to victory to walk away from it now. “I should have stayed and killed that red-eyed bastard.”
Remiel shook his head. “I understand your thirst for vengeance, but it won’t bring you peace.”
Viktor reached for his glass and swallowed back his rage with a mouthful of ambrosia. Why had he expected someone like Remiel to understand? Angels—especially fallen ones—didn’t have families and bloodlines to worry about. He’d never know the pain of losing everyone he loved and being powerless to save them.
“Do not lecture me about inner peace. He murdered my parents. It’s been centuries since you left the Garden, yet you lust for it even after what they did to you. His death may not bring me peace, but at least it can offer me the comfort of closure.”
Remiel’s expression darkened. “I do not understand what you mean—”
“Bullshit.” Viktor sprang to his feet. A few patrons shot curious glances over their shoulders, but Viktor disregarded their attention. “When did you plan to tell me about your deal with the angels? When you stabbed Lili in the back and abandoned me?”
Remiel rose to his feet as his mouth opened. “Viktor, I—”
“I don’t want your apology,” Viktor snarled. “I want that demonic shit-stain dead. You can find someone else to lie to and march into damnation.”
Remiel’s face paled. He shook his head and slumped back into his chair, his head bowed towards the table. “If that is how you feel, go. Chase down Andras or return to Starbright, whatever it takes to bring you peace. You are not my prisoner, Viktor. I have no desire to force you anywhere you don’t wish to go.”
Viktor tensed his jaw as regret seeped in to dilute some of his rage. He sat down across from Remiel and reached for his drink. “This is—”
“Bullshit, yes. You have said that a few times now. And the problem is, you have a point. Even if we allow Andras to march Aster and Lili to their deaths, the war will still come to Astryae.”
“And we’ll have lost our best weapon to fight back.” Viktor drummed his fingers against the table. “But if we help them, we could all die and leave Astryae defenseless.”
“What chance do we have without them?”
Viktor shook his head, unwilling to answer. He hadn’t liked their odds even with Lili and Aster on their side. Good men died in war even with years of training and experience. Not only were the numbers stacked against them, but Lili had as much combat training as a child. So why did Remiel sound so certain they needed her?
“I don’t see how a spoiled brat and a half-demon blood mage are supposed to help us.”
“Lili’s powers won’t be immature for long. Her wings have already come in. She is soon to be one of the most fearsome beings in creation.”
“And demons try to dust her everywhere we go. She’s more of a problem than an asset by any man’s definition.” Viktor shook his head and rose to his feet once more. “I can’t sit here and wait to see how this ends.”
“So you plan to ensure it ends in tragedy?” Remiel glared at him over his drink. “You are better than this, Viktor. You must fight the bloodlust.”
But Viktor didn’t want to fight it anymore. For years he had listened to Remiel. He ignored his primal instincts and urges and focused on his weaker human side. And where had it gotten him?
“Whether or not you wish to fight, war between the realms is only a breath away. Your allegiance may lie with the Gardens, but mine is to Astryae and its people. When the stories of this war emerge, my name will not be tossed around as a coward or traitor.”
Remiel’s face darkened. “If you would allow me a chance to explain—”
“Explain how you planned to betray us all? No matter how you justify this logistically in your mind, there is no defense for it.” Viktor tilted his chin and turned towards the door. “I hope the angels don’t betray you twice.”
“Viktor, wait.” Remiel sprang from his chair. “Please, you have to understand. When Elijah appeared that night, I had no idea who or what Lili was. But I would never stab you in the back. You are the closest thing to family I have in this world. Elijah promised both of us a place in the Gardens. I wanted to protect you, not hurt you. I wanted to ensure we would be on the right side of history.”
“And you suppose standing with them is the best way to do that? I wish you the best of luck, friend.”
He didn’t give Remiel a chance to argue. Viktor weaved his way through the crowd of patrons and out of the tavern. His entire body buzzed with heat, though he couldn’t be certain if he should blame the alcohol or the adrenaline. The brisk night air stung his cheeks and cooled his lungs as he unrolled the sleeves of his shirt.
The sound of Remiel’s boots appeared behind him not seconds later. Viktor swallowed back his annoyance and sighed. He should have guessed Remiel wouldn’t allow him to leave without a struggle. His body tensed as he braced himself for whatever might follow.
“Let me go with you.”
Viktor scoffed. “Why? So you can tell your buddies where to find her?”
“So I can help you save her and earn your forgiveness.” A somber note Viktor hadn’t heard before crept into Remiel’s voice. He paused and allowed the angel to finish. “I am sorry you feel I betrayed your trust. And I know an apology is not enough to convince you of that. All I can do is fight by your side until either you trust me again or the world crumbles.”
Viktor pursed his lips and studied Remiel’s face. Though he knew better than to believe it—angels couldn’t age—the faint lines in the corner of Remiel’s mouth and eyes almost made him appear older. Viktor’s throat tightened. “And Andras?”
“When the girls have what they need from him and the time comes to kill him, I will make sure no one stands in your way.”
Viktor shoved his hands in his pocket and nodded. The answer didn’t satisfy him, but he wouldn’t find a better one. “What about the angels?”
“I have prayed to summon Elijah.”
“So now what?”
“Now, we wait.”
* * *
After several hours of waiting and many additional glasses of ambrosia, Viktor belched and stretched his arms over his head. “I think your pal stood us up, Remi.”
Remiel shook his head, his lips tight. “Elijah will come. He wants Lili as much as Zanox does.”
While Viktor couldn’t disagree, the thought provided him with little comfort. Even with the addition of her feathery onyx wings, Viktor had a hard time picturing Lili as anything but the trembling young girl who’d shown up at his doorstep in need of help. How could the universe seek to destroy something so naive?
“Can you not ask him to meet us elsewhere? We need to head back to Aster’s house and speak with Osius.”
A fluttering sound rippled through the air. “Pardon me, dear boy, but you need to speak with who?”
Viktor’s lips curled back in a snarl as he recognized the speaker’s strange accent. He spun to see Elijah seated at the table next to Remiel, his massive wings on full display. The angel hadn’t bothered to find a more modest garb to wear in public. The dim lighting of the tavern cast an intimate glow over his bare chest. The lower half of his body disappeared below the table.
“Now he wants to show up?” Viktor slammed himself back down at the table.
“Not everyone feels compelled to come running when someone whistles for them, dog.”
“So why come now?” Remiel crossed his arms over his chest, his expression stone.
Elijah gestur
ed towards Viktor and wrinkled his nose. “I must have misheard, but I could have sworn your pet said he planned to speak with Osius.”
“So what if I did?” Viktor cocked his head. “What concern is it of his pet?”
Elijah’s eyes flickered between Remiel and Viktor. His eyebrows scrunched as if trying to decide if they were serious. A hysterical laugh burst from his lips after a moment of tense silence. He slapped his hand against the table and cackled, indifferent to the raised eyebrows and nasty looks from the other patrons.
“Gods, you two are serious. I almost pity you. Your entire plan depends on the impossible.”
“What makes you so certain?” Remiel asked.
Elijah reached for Remiel’s glass of ambrosia and emptied it. His lips curled into a smirk as he slammed the empty glass against the table. “Because Osius is gone. They all are. A lot has changed since you left the Gardens, brother.”
A chill ran down Viktor’s spine as Remiel gaped. “How—”
“No one knows.” Elijah shrugged. “We have no way to trace where they went or why. They disappeared only a few decades after your banishment. Our best scouts and soldiers searched every corner of this realm and our own. We found no trace.”
Viktor leaned back in his chair and said nothing. The devastation on Remiel’s face was clear. Yet Viktor found himself untroubled by the news. He had no relationship with the gods aside from the occasional prayer to mourn their absence. Instead, the information struck a spark of recollection in his mind.
“If the gods are gone, they can’t be the ones pushing this war.” Viktor’s voice turned to ice as he spoke, his eyes locked on Elijah.
“War?” Elijah snorted. “A war implies resistance and battle. There will be no war in Astryae; no humans or Feyfolk are strong enough to stand against us. We will cleanse this world with fire so it may be born anew, untainted and unpolluted. Perhaps Cimera will return if we give her creation a fresh start.”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “And they call me the monster.”
Elijah whirled his attention back on Remiel. “You had one simple job, Remiel. And yet you have failed me once more.”
