Page 45 of Wings of Valor (Silver City University #4)
I peer through the scope on the ballista, watching the fight unfold.
There’s not much I can do to help the crowd of fighting allies below—not when they’re all so close to each other. It would be far too easy for me to hit someone on our side. Besides, with the walls of the Fallen district, there are blind spots.
Auriel probably had them built that way.
Still, I can keep an eye on things like I did with Raphael and Theo, or like I’m doing now with my father, using telepathy to pass information along to him. I suppose that counts for something.
So far, I’ve managed to ignore Mira and the other angels sent to protect our position. Not only have I been sidelined with the traitor’s daughter, but they sent us with fucking babysitters.
It’s bullshit.
I spot a few angels trying to get the surprise jump on Dad and pass along a message to him, watching as he and his elite group secure them with ease.
One angel slips free, nearly stabbing my father with an angel blade before he winds up paying the ultimate price himself.
I can’t imagine it would be easy to kill our own kind, and I know Dad would do everything in his power to avoid it, but it’s not always an option.
There are only a few on our side carrying the deadly weapon. Only those we trust implicitly.
Mira taps on my shoulder, jolting me from my thoughts. I stiffen, not wanting her anywhere near me. Hell, I consider ignoring her completely, but that will only make her tap again. “What?”
“I want to look.”
“Fuck off.”
She doesn’t back down. “Five minutes, that’s all.”
“Fine. But only because I want to check in with the others.” Sighing, I step back. Even though I don’t like it, I can’t pass up the opportunity to make sure Hayliel is okay. She wasn’t with Raphael and Theo, and that makes me nervous.
Searching down the bond, I find them all breathing. Theo and Raph seem to be in less pain than the last time I checked, and Hayliel only feels anxious. Anxiety I can handle. It means they’re still alive.
With my checks complete, I turn, fully intending to tell Mira her time is up, even though I know it hasn’t been five minutes. She’s frowning, her movements frantic as she tracks something through the scope. “What is it?”
I don’t wait for her to respond, instead shoving her out of the way so I can take a look.
“My father.” She barely gets the words out before I see Lieutenant Atlas through the lens.
That piece of fucking shit traitor.
“You,” I say to one of the babysitters. “Help Mira man this weapon. I’ll be right back.”
“But, sir,” the guy squabbles at the same time Mira says, “Fuck no. I’m going with you whether you fucking like it or not.”
She turns to the rest of the angels with us. “Zeke and I need to go handle a traitor. Take over this machine and help us reach victory. We’ll be back when we’re done.”
Mira’s ready to fly, but she takes one last look at her father through the scope. “If we head to the corner of the city, he’ll run right into us.”
I let my wings free, feeling a slight twinge in the muscle around my reattached wing.
“You good?” She looks over my shoulder at the ring of gold that signifies where Hayliel attached it.
I roll my eyes. “I’m perfect.”
We probably shouldn’t be flying, not with so many demons around, but there’s no other way to get from point A to point B. We just have to hope they’re all too busy fighting for their lives to notice.
Staying low, we fly over the small river that runs parallel to the production district.
The closer we get to our destination, the more destruction there is.
The ground is filled with pieces of rock and brick, and there’s a massive hole where the wall once stood.
Through that hole, I see my father. He’s fighting like a pro, slicing and avoiding, stabbing and receding.
I’ve always looked up to him for so many reasons—and this is one of them.
A gust of wind hits my wings, causing a fierce pain to lance through my left one. I want to shout, but the pain holds my voice hostage. All I can do is crash to the ground.
I flip over, tucking my wings as best I can, but the pain is too much. When I finally stop skidding, I’m near the wall with Mira at my side, trying to figure out what’s happening. Even through the pain, I hate that she’s here.
Dad shows up next, but as I sit, I feel almost lopsided.
There’s a dark shape a short distance away, and I know instantly what it is.
My wing.
“Let me see,” Dad says, peering at my back. I don’t fight him. All I do is breathe as the pain slowly diminishes to a dull ache. His brows draw down, and he says, “Whatever Hayliel did, a part of it is still there. The wound is closed, but son, I—”
“I know,” I say, my voice far stronger than I feel. “The wing is gone for good.” I don’t know how my voice sounds so calm, but here, in the middle of this battlefield with Atlas so close, I need to keep my emotions under wrap. “It’s fine. Atlas is close. Let’s just—”
Five demons filter out through the hole in the wall. The smallest guy notices my discarded wing on the ground and laughs. “We’ve found ourselves a flightless bird!”
Then it’s utter chaos.
I stand too quickly, and the regret is immediate as my head swims. Dad is there, protecting me like not only a fierce warrior but a father protecting his young.
There are too many of them for my dad and Mira to handle alone.
Even though I’m not at full strength, I have to do something.
Yanking out my multi-weapon that Hayliel imbued for me, I launch into an attack. Every twist of my left arm tugs at my shoulder and makes me hiss, but I power through it as best I can, and for a second, I think we’re winning.
That’s when I catch sight of Mira from my periphery.
Three demons surround her. She’s standing in the middle, circling to not give one of them her back for too long.
Two of them have their angel blades drawn, but the other either doesn’t have one or has it tucked away somewhere. The two with the weapons are toying with her, and when one of them lunges forward, he barely makes it a step before he dissolves into dust.
When the ash and dust clear, Atlas stands behind him, his face filled with an emotion I’ve never seen him hold. Fear.
“Zeke! Behind you!” Dad yells, kicking my instincts into full gear. I block a swipe of claws, but the sudden movement forces an embarrassing yelp past my lips.
I will not give up.
The fight takes every ounce of my concentration, and by the time Dad and I are done fighting, so is Mira. Except she’s anything but victorious.
She’s kneeling over a body. It takes me a second to recognize who it is.
Atlas.
Immediately, I wonder if she killed her own father. Yet as bad of a man that he was, I can’t imagine her doing it. Even if she hated him. Even if she was never working with him.
Dad and I approach her slowly. He scans the ground and skies for demons while I focus on Mira—the liar and the traitor, yet I can’t quite see her that way right now.
“Mira?”
When she looks at me, I expect to find tears running down her cheeks, but her face is dry.
“He took the blade meant for me. I killed the one who did it, but the other one got away.” Her voice comes out monotone, as if she’s on autopilot.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t mean that he’s dead, only that she had to witness it. It’s almost worse that he died protecting her. It blurs the lines of his wickedness and probably makes his death harder to swallow, or at least it would for me.
All she says is, “He chose his side.”
I can’t tell if she’s referring to him siding with the demons or choosing to protect her in the end, but I don’t ask. Something tells me she wouldn’t know the answer.
Despite what’s just happened, we still have more work to do before this battle is won. “Let’s get back to the ballista,” I say without thinking.
But I can’t go back without both wings. I can’t fly anywhere with only one wing.
Dad’s whispered voice has me looking up. “By the grace of God.”
I follow his line of sight, my heart sinking as I find a swarm of creatures flying through the sky, all zeroed in on one particular area.
It’s surreal how familiar this feels. Just like that day on campus when Hayliel was in danger.
“Change of plans.”