Page 16

Remy glanced between us, conflict clear on his face.

Finally, he sighed. “I can't tell you where they are.

I honestly don't know. But…” He hesitated.

“There's a clearing in the woods, about two miles north of town.

Sometimes, when they need something fixed that's too big to bring here, they meet me there. It's where the wards are thinnest.”

I felt a surge of hope. “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” Remy warned. “They might not show. And even if they do, they might not be too happy to see you.” He turned to go back to his work, then paused.

“For what it's worth, they're good people.

Angels. Whatever. They've protected this town when they didn't have to.

Remember that when you're asking them to risk their necks.”

We left the auto shop with something resembling a lead, heading north toward the edge of town. The forest grew denser as we moved away from the buildings, the path narrowing until it was barely visible among the underbrush.

“You think this demon was telling the truth?” I asked, pushing aside a low-hanging branch. “Or sending us on a wild goose chase?”

“He was telling the truth,” Levi said confidently. “He was genuinely worried about the angels. Whatever relationship they have, it's built on mutual respect.”

I made a noncommittal sound. “Let's hope these angels are as reasonable as Remy seems to think. I'm not in the mood for another fight.”

We walked for what felt like hours, the sun climbing higher in the sky, filtering through the canopy in dappled patterns.

The clearing Remy had mentioned wasn't easy to find—it was small, hardly more than a break in the trees, with a circle of flat stones arranged in the center like a crude meeting place.

“Now what?” I asked, glancing around the empty space.

Levi leaned against a tree trunk, arms crossed. “Now we wait. They know we're here.”

I groaned. “Great. More waiting. My favorite.”

We spent the afternoon in the clearing, taking turns exploring the perimeter while the other kept watch. The sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the forest floor. My frustration grew with each passing hour.

“This is ridiculous,” I finally said, pacing the circle for what felt like the hundredth time. “We're wasting valuable time.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” Levi said, though I could tell his own was wearing thin. “They'll show, or they won't. Either way, standing around complaining won't change anything.”

I was about to snap back when a rustle in the trees caught my attention. My hand went to my sword automatically, but Levi shook his head, his posture deceptively relaxed.

“We have company,” he murmured.

A figure stepped into the clearing, moving with the silent grace only an angel could possess. He was tall and lean, with deep brown skin and a stern expression.

“You've been asking about us,” he said, his voice cold. “Making a nuisance of yourselves in town.”

I straightened, meeting his gaze directly. “We need to speak with your leader. It's urgent.”

“So I've been told.” His eyes flicked to Levi, narrowing. “You bring a demon to our doorstep and expect a warm welcome?”

“I bring the truth,” I countered. “About what's happening in Elysium. About what's coming. Your leader needs to hear it.”

The angel studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “She said you'd be persistent.”

“She?” I asked, confusion flickering through me.

“My commander,” he clarified. “She knew you'd keep pushing until you got what you wanted. Said it would be easier to just bring you in than let you keep disrupting the town.”

Relief washed over me. “Then you'll take us to her?”

“Against my better judgment, yes.” The angel didn't look pleased about it. “But you'll come on foot. No flying, no shortcuts.”

Levi pushed away from the tree, arching an eyebrow. “Any particular reason for the scenic route?”

The angel's expression didn't change. “Security. The path is warded against those who mean us harm. If you try to fly over it, the wards will interpret that as hostile intent.”

“Fine,” I agreed quickly, before Levi could argue. “We'll follow your lead.”

The angel—who declined to give his name—set a punishing pace through the forest. What had been a difficult hike before now became a grueling trek, with steep inclines and narrow paths that seemed to wind in circles.

Several times, I felt the telltale tingle of magic as we passed through layers of protective spells, each one more complex than the last.

The sun set completely, plunging the forest into darkness. Our guide seemed unbothered, moving with the same sure-footed confidence as before. Levi and I kept pace, though I could feel the strain in my muscles. It had been a long day, and even with angelic endurance, I was reaching my limits.

“How much further?” I finally asked, as we scaled yet another rocky incline.

“We're here,” the angel replied, stopping so suddenly I nearly collided with him.

I looked around, confused. All I could see were trees and the looming shadow of a mountain. “Where exactly is 'here'?”

The angel placed his hand on a seemingly ordinary boulder.

The air shimmered, and the forest before us melted away, revealing a structure built directly into the mountainside.

It looked like a simple cabin from the outside, its wooden exterior weathered and unremarkable.

But I could feel the power emanating from it—layers upon layers of protective magic, older and stronger than anything I'd encountered before.

“The Lost Legion,” our guide said, gesturing to the cabin. “Our home for the past twenty years.”

He led us to the door, which swung open at his touch.

Inside, the cabin revealed its true nature—a vast network of rooms and hallways carved directly into the mountain.

The walls were a seamless blend of natural stone and polished wood, and the space was lit by orbs of soft light that floated near the ceiling.

A handful of angels moved through the corridors, some in their battle armor, others in simple clothing.

All of them turned to watch as we passed, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.

I could feel their power, their collective strength.

These weren't ordinary angels—they were warriors, veterans, survivors.

We were led deeper into the mountain, down winding staircases and through grand halls that could have housed hundreds. Finally, our guide stopped outside a massive wooden door, intricately carved with symbols I recognized from the oldest texts in Elysium's archives.

“She's waiting for you,” he said, pushing the door open.

The room beyond was circular, with a high, domed ceiling and walls lined with maps and weapons.

A long table dominated the center, surrounded by simple wooden chairs.

And at the head of the table, seated in a throne-like chair carved from a single piece of ancient wood, was an angel unlike any I'd ever seen.

She was tall, with silver-white hair cropped short against her scalp, and piercing eyes that shifted color like sunlight through leaves.

One arm rested in a sling across her chest, but there was nothing weak about her posture.

Power radiated from her in waves, ancient and immense, the kind that could only belong to one of the oldest archangels.

“Ariella,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. “I've been expecting you.”

I stepped forward, my heart pounding. “You know who I am?”

“I know of you,” she corrected. “The fallen angel accused of murdering her squadron. The angel hunted by Rhodes and his followers.” Her gaze shifted to Levi. “And you've brought a higher demon into my stronghold. Bold move.”

“He's with me,” I said firmly. “We're here because?—”

“Because Rhodes has the Scarlet Hex Dagger and plans to use it on Adona in two days,” she finished for me. “Yes, I'm aware.”

I blinked, taken aback. “How do you know that?”

“I have my own sources in Elysium. Just because we left doesn't mean we stopped watching.” She gestured to the chairs around the table. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

We sat, the air between us charged with tension and unspoken questions.

“If you knew about Rhodes and the dagger, why haven't you done anything?” I asked.

The archangel's expression hardened. “Until a few months ago, my priority was protecting the angels under my command. We left Elysium for a reason, Ariella. We wanted nothing to do with its politics or its wars.”

“And now?”

“Now I'm reassessing that position.” She leaned forward slightly, her injured arm shifting in its sling. “When I first heard about a fallen angel who had supposedly killed her entire squadron, I dismissed it as internal politics gone wrong. It wasn't our concern.”

“But it was a lie,” I said, my voice tight. “Rhodes and Ylena set me up. They've been planning this coup for years.”

“So I've discovered.” She studied me intently. “What I don't understand is why you're here, seeking me out. You didn't even know who I was until you walked through that door.”

I held her gaze, unflinching. “I knew there were exiled angels living near Pinewood Valley. I hoped they—you—might help us stop Rhodes. Especially since you wouldn't need an elixir to enter Elysium.”

“An elixir?” She raised an eyebrow.

“From golden lilies that grow in the Light Garden,” I explained. “It's our backup plan for getting non-angels into Elysium.”

The archangel nodded slowly. “And you’re doing the elixir from scratch? Ambitious. But why would I risk my people, my Legion, to fight a battle I deliberately walked away from decades ago?”

“Because if Rhodes succeeds, nowhere will be safe,” I said. “Not Elysium, not Earth, not even this mountain stronghold you've built. He wants to reshape everything, and he won't stop until all of reality bends to his vision.”

For a long moment, the archangel was silent, her gaze distant, as if seeing something beyond the room. Finally, she refocused on me. “You still haven't asked the obvious question.”

“Which is?”

“Who I am. Why I know about you.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Or rather, why I know of your father.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. “My father? You knew my father?”

“I fought alongside him,” she said simply. “Many years ago, before you were born. Before I was exiled.”

The room seemed to spin around me, the implications of her words sinking in. “You're?—”

“Kadriel,” she said, her name hanging in the air like a thunderclap. “Former commander of the First Sphere, archangel of the western realms, and once the right hand of Adona herself.”

I stared at her, speechless. Kadriel was a legend in Elysium, one of the most powerful archangels ever to serve. She had disappeared decades ago, after a mission gone wrong. It was said she was killed in battle, though no body was recovered.

Or at least, that was the story I'd grown up hearing in whispers, never spoken aloud.

“Kadriel,” I breathed, the name a prayer and a question in one. “You're alive.”