back to us. He’s dressed in armor that reflects the gold of his skin. Nothing about him is at peace. Nothing about him is relaxed.
I approach slowly as a strange memory teases up through the maze of my thoughts. Me and Nesy, here, bargaining for her life. A chill spreads across my arms and wings. I thought the smoke took these memories away. But this one feels fresh and new, as though I am living it now.
I hear the sound of her voice, the strange melancholy tones that mix with a palpable desperation. I feel her hand in mine as I try to control her emotions. Anxiety washes over me as I recall the moments that passed when Mikayel decided her fate, remembering the relief that coated the air when he allowed her to return to Aydan.
And then I remember how she died.
I draw a stiff breath as anger tenses my wings and back.
Anger for Aydan and all that he is.
Anger for Mikayel and what he’s forced me to become.
Anger for Nesy and the price of her love.
“Your contempt is not welcome here.” Mikayel’s voice chases the memory away. “Best you learn to manage your emotions better.”
“Cut him some slack, Mikayel. His frustration is born of your task.”
Mikayel stiffens in response to Gabriel's admonishment.
“Why are you here?” Mikayel asks.
I swallow back my reply, attempting to control my anger. Gabriel places a hand on my shoulder, instantly calming my thoughts.
“Zanethios has some questions about the demonic smoke. Things he should have asked before doing your bidding.” Gabriel shoots me a stern look. “But better late than never, yes?”
Again Mikayel stiffens. He balls his fists at his sides, his jaw clenched. “What do you wish to know?” he asks through gritted teeth.
Gabriel nudges me forward. The words refuse to form. I center my thoughts, forcing the letters to gel. “The demonic smoke,” I manage to say. “It isn’t part of Azzaziel’s realm, is it?”
“That is correct. As I told you before, it is neither part of this realm, nor is it part of Azzaziel.” Mikayel’s gaze bores into me. “Is there more?”
“Yes. One more.” I swallow hard. “What is it, the smoke? Where did it come from? Why did it owe you a favor?”
The questions come out too fast, each one robbing something from Mikayel. His face shifts from stoic to angry to defeated within a single heartbeat.
“That is three questions.” There is more than words in his reply.
Accusations and distrust cling to my skin.
“Zanethios requires answers to each one, Mikayel. He has done your task and now he requires your help. It is fair.”
Mikayel glares at Gabriel, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Fine. I will answer them. But before I can, how much did Nesy tell you about my history with Azzaziel?”
“I know that you were both friends, that you were both Guardians. And I know that he killed many angels, including a member of the Council. And someone you loved.”
“Yes,” he whispers, his voice suddenly weak. He lowers his head and sighs.
“I know that his actions caused the War That Has No End.”
A silence engulfs the distance between us. I’m compelled to shatter it, desperate for a truth he refuses to acknowledge.
“And,” I say. “I know that your hatred of each other nearly killed Nesy.”
Mikayel’s head snaps up. He glares are me.
“Careful you remember your place, Zanethios.” Gabriel’s words exude an uninvited calm.
“Yes, Master.”
“Go on Mikayel. Tell the boy about the demonic smoke.” Gabriel smiles at Mikayel, reaching into his thoughts, I’m certain.
“Yes, fine. Azzaziel and I were friends once. And yes, our battle has cost many lives.”
“Tell me about the smoke,” I say. “What is it? And why did it owe you a favor?”
“The demonic smoke is like nothing you’ve ever encountered. It is part of a race long since gone.”
“Gone? There were more entities like the smoke?”
“Not exactly; it is the only one, special even amongst its own race.”
“Its
I approach slowly as a strange memory teases up through the maze of my thoughts. Me and Nesy, here, bargaining for her life. A chill spreads across my arms and wings. I thought the smoke took these memories away. But this one feels fresh and new, as though I am living it now.
I hear the sound of her voice, the strange melancholy tones that mix with a palpable desperation. I feel her hand in mine as I try to control her emotions. Anxiety washes over me as I recall the moments that passed when Mikayel decided her fate, remembering the relief that coated the air when he allowed her to return to Aydan.
And then I remember how she died.
I draw a stiff breath as anger tenses my wings and back.
Anger for Aydan and all that he is.
Anger for Mikayel and what he’s forced me to become.
Anger for Nesy and the price of her love.
“Your contempt is not welcome here.” Mikayel’s voice chases the memory away. “Best you learn to manage your emotions better.”
“Cut him some slack, Mikayel. His frustration is born of your task.”
Mikayel stiffens in response to Gabriel's admonishment.
“Why are you here?” Mikayel asks.
I swallow back my reply, attempting to control my anger. Gabriel places a hand on my shoulder, instantly calming my thoughts.
“Zanethios has some questions about the demonic smoke. Things he should have asked before doing your bidding.” Gabriel shoots me a stern look. “But better late than never, yes?”
Again Mikayel stiffens. He balls his fists at his sides, his jaw clenched. “What do you wish to know?” he asks through gritted teeth.
Gabriel nudges me forward. The words refuse to form. I center my thoughts, forcing the letters to gel. “The demonic smoke,” I manage to say. “It isn’t part of Azzaziel’s realm, is it?”
“That is correct. As I told you before, it is neither part of this realm, nor is it part of Azzaziel.” Mikayel’s gaze bores into me. “Is there more?”
“Yes. One more.” I swallow hard. “What is it, the smoke? Where did it come from? Why did it owe you a favor?”
The questions come out too fast, each one robbing something from Mikayel. His face shifts from stoic to angry to defeated within a single heartbeat.
“That is three questions.” There is more than words in his reply.
Accusations and distrust cling to my skin.
“Zanethios requires answers to each one, Mikayel. He has done your task and now he requires your help. It is fair.”
Mikayel glares at Gabriel, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Fine. I will answer them. But before I can, how much did Nesy tell you about my history with Azzaziel?”
“I know that you were both friends, that you were both Guardians. And I know that he killed many angels, including a member of the Council. And someone you loved.”
“Yes,” he whispers, his voice suddenly weak. He lowers his head and sighs.
“I know that his actions caused the War That Has No End.”
A silence engulfs the distance between us. I’m compelled to shatter it, desperate for a truth he refuses to acknowledge.
“And,” I say. “I know that your hatred of each other nearly killed Nesy.”
Mikayel’s head snaps up. He glares are me.
“Careful you remember your place, Zanethios.” Gabriel’s words exude an uninvited calm.
“Yes, Master.”
“Go on Mikayel. Tell the boy about the demonic smoke.” Gabriel smiles at Mikayel, reaching into his thoughts, I’m certain.
“Yes, fine. Azzaziel and I were friends once. And yes, our battle has cost many lives.”
“Tell me about the smoke,” I say. “What is it? And why did it owe you a favor?”
“The demonic smoke is like nothing you’ve ever encountered. It is part of a race long since gone.”
“Gone? There were more entities like the smoke?”
“Not exactly; it is the only one, special even amongst its own race.”
“Its
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