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“No, he does not,” agreed Taron. “But the others think we can still use him.”

The ‘others’ must have been the Guardians. Taron and Giselle seemed to be more a part of the Guardians than they were merely two more of the people the Guardians had ‘rescued’.

“Valiant is trying to hire mercenaries to assist him,” Taron said. “We are to ensure he finds the right mercenaries. To open the vault where the weapons of heaven and hell are kept, he will need someone who can perform a memory recall spell.”

“An angel could perform that spell. And the rogue angel Osiris Wardbreaker is in the area right now.”

Taron nodded. “Wardbreaker will do—if he can be enticed away from his favorite hobby of massacring villages. I will make sure Valiant hires Wardbreaker.”

“I have been busy off-world this past month, Taron, so you’re going to have to get me all caught up. Why do we really want Wardbreaker to perform the memory recall spell—and on whom?”

“On Leda Pierce.” Taron said my name like he was whispering over my grave.

“The Pandora?”

“Yes. She has the perfect balance of light and dark magic to be the vessel for those visions stored in the Vault of the Lost City.”

Comprehension dawned on her face. “Including the visions of our future.”

“The Pandora is at the center of the Prophecy,” said Taron. “Her actions will determine our fate. So we must see to it that she receives those visions in the Vault, visions channeled through the weapons of heaven and hell. Those visions will push her along the right path, the path we need her to take. The path that will end with the destruction of all gods and demons—and in the Guardians’ rise to power.”

“Then we’d best get started,” Giselle said.

Then the Guardians’ angels spread their wings and flew away.

From his hiding spot, Damiel watched their silhouettes in the sky grow ever more distant. “Yes, fly off to do your wicked masters’ bidding. I’ll be waiting.” Damiel’s smile was bitter, his eyes burning with hatred.

I could hear what he was thinking. He was planning to hijack their plan, to impersonate Wardbreaker and use the memory recall spell to tune me in to the Vault’s memories, memories that would lead him to the weapons of heaven and hell, immortal artifacts that he would use to fight the Guardians. And kill them, every last one of them.

“But how am I connected to the weapons of heaven and hell?” I wondered aloud. “How can I use them so well?”

* * *

I felt another jolt,gentler this time. Arina was getting better at moving us between the visions. I looked around, trying to figure out where—and when—we were now.

I knew at once. I’d seen this memory before.

Faris stood in a room with weapons hanging on the walls. He was dressed in a dark tunic and silk pants, one of his famous battlefield-in-the-ballroom outfits. Around his neck, he wore a gold pendant. It was the same pendant Athan had used to reveal Faris’s best-kept secret: this memory.

Constellations of glowing, magically-projected dots swirled around Faris, representations of the gods’ and demons’ armies and their endless, immortal war. For a few moments, Faris watched the battles play out across time and space, but he soon tired of what he saw. Growling in annoyance, he waved his hand to dissolve the magic maps into dust.

“Temper, temper.”

It was the demon Grace who had spoken.

But Faris’s next words weren’t the ones I remembered. This scene must have come out of a different memory.

“How did you get in here, Grace?”

He spun around. Shock flashed in his eyes when he saw Grace leaning against the wall—or maybe his shock was caused by what she was wearing. The demon was dressed in a red chiffon dress that showed more skin than chiffon. It looked like a nightie. A naughty nightie.

“I have my ways,” Grace said with a sly smile.

He lifted his hand. The early stages of a spell twinkled on his fingertips.

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say, Faris.”

“Why should I listen to you?” he demanded.