over.
Mary was a smiling woman, a dimple in a
lined, middle-aged face. She had short hair like the rest of the Sisters and it
was dark, a very deep shade of chestnut. She still wore the robes that marked
her as a part of the Sect, but she wore them proudly now, and I could see the
new leadership role she bore in the way she held herself straight and proud.
"Sister Mary," I replied with
a nod.
She stepped back and held the door wide,
her smile faltering only when Marcas and Luther
ducked into the room. The Demons frightened her.
"You can use the refectory,"
Mary said brightly. "There's a group already there. Waiting. They arrived the day before yesterday."
My confusion was evident.
"Alessandro," Conor said as he moved past me.
I looked at his back, the bat-like wings
gone now with no trace that they had ever been there.
"That fast?" I asked.
Conor had mentioned
calling in the leader of the S.O.S at my childhood home, but that had been
hours ago. There was no way the S.O.S. could get here that quickly from Italy.
Conor glanced back at
me, his expression a sheepish one.
"I called him when Marcas was trapped in the Seal. It seemed only right they
be involved. The Swords of Solomon have a lot invested in the ring, and in this
whole new wild plan."
Marcas walked quietly
past me, his hand landing on Conor's shoulder.
"You did the right thing.
Alessandro is a strong ally."
No one argued with that.
"It's a good thing I feel the same
way about you, Demonio ," a deep voice said, and
we all looked up to find Alessandro standing casually in the hallway just
outside the refectory door. Inside, the tables gleamed, food laid out for
anyone who needed it. There were men at the table, most of them I didn't know
and a few I only recognized by sight. No names.
Marcas and Alessandro
clasped hands, the shake firm but careful. There would never be a fully
trusting relationship between the two of them, but they respected each other.
That much was obvious.
"I have just heard this crazy
little piece of information about a Civil War and Hell," Alessandro stated
evenly as he motioned us all into the room. "I have to admit when Conor told me you were trapped in the ring, I didn't expect
to see you again. But we came anyway. Now that you are out, I'm even more
shocked to find you so willing to fight your own people."
People stood as we entered, and I saw
Lucas and Sophia standing along the side of the room, their heads held high.
They had obviously filled the members of the S.O.S. in on Marcas '
plan.
"Are you really so surprised,
Ander?" Marcas asked, his brow raised .
Alessandro laughed.
"Maybe not
so surprised."
"He is a good liar, my son. He
wasn't surprised in the least," a clear, Italian voice said, and I felt my
heart soar. Maria!
Maria was Alessandro's mother, and an
old earthly flame of Marcas '. She was an old woman
and wise. She had the Sight, the ability to tell the difference between
mortals, Angels, and Demons. I trusted her implicitly. She was sitting at the
table when we came in, but she stood now carefully before making her way over
to our group. Her eyes met mine.
"You look strong, Naphil ," she said with a nod of her head.
I wanted to laugh out loud. I knew I
didn't look the least bit strong. Tired, wrung out, too skinny, but never
strong. But I didn't argue with her because I knew she wasn't referring to my
physical appearance. She saw the magic that flowed over me, and she knew its
strength. If nothing else, my power was definitely stronger. Her eyes narrowed
as she gazed at me, and I saw her glance briefly at Bezaliel who was speaking now with Alessandro.
"Come, Naphil .
Walk a moment with an old woman. Let's leave these men to their negotiations,
shall we?" Maria said as she practically shoved me back out into the hall.
Bezaliel looked up, his
eyes sharp, but Alessandro just shook his head.
"Leave my mother be ,
Old One. There is no arguing with her."
The door to the refectory closed between
us. I wasn't
Mary was a smiling woman, a dimple in a
lined, middle-aged face. She had short hair like the rest of the Sisters and it
was dark, a very deep shade of chestnut. She still wore the robes that marked
her as a part of the Sect, but she wore them proudly now, and I could see the
new leadership role she bore in the way she held herself straight and proud.
"Sister Mary," I replied with
a nod.
She stepped back and held the door wide,
her smile faltering only when Marcas and Luther
ducked into the room. The Demons frightened her.
"You can use the refectory,"
Mary said brightly. "There's a group already there. Waiting. They arrived the day before yesterday."
My confusion was evident.
"Alessandro," Conor said as he moved past me.
I looked at his back, the bat-like wings
gone now with no trace that they had ever been there.
"That fast?" I asked.
Conor had mentioned
calling in the leader of the S.O.S at my childhood home, but that had been
hours ago. There was no way the S.O.S. could get here that quickly from Italy.
Conor glanced back at
me, his expression a sheepish one.
"I called him when Marcas was trapped in the Seal. It seemed only right they
be involved. The Swords of Solomon have a lot invested in the ring, and in this
whole new wild plan."
Marcas walked quietly
past me, his hand landing on Conor's shoulder.
"You did the right thing.
Alessandro is a strong ally."
No one argued with that.
"It's a good thing I feel the same
way about you, Demonio ," a deep voice said, and
we all looked up to find Alessandro standing casually in the hallway just
outside the refectory door. Inside, the tables gleamed, food laid out for
anyone who needed it. There were men at the table, most of them I didn't know
and a few I only recognized by sight. No names.
Marcas and Alessandro
clasped hands, the shake firm but careful. There would never be a fully
trusting relationship between the two of them, but they respected each other.
That much was obvious.
"I have just heard this crazy
little piece of information about a Civil War and Hell," Alessandro stated
evenly as he motioned us all into the room. "I have to admit when Conor told me you were trapped in the ring, I didn't expect
to see you again. But we came anyway. Now that you are out, I'm even more
shocked to find you so willing to fight your own people."
People stood as we entered, and I saw
Lucas and Sophia standing along the side of the room, their heads held high.
They had obviously filled the members of the S.O.S. in on Marcas '
plan.
"Are you really so surprised,
Ander?" Marcas asked, his brow raised .
Alessandro laughed.
"Maybe not
so surprised."
"He is a good liar, my son. He
wasn't surprised in the least," a clear, Italian voice said, and I felt my
heart soar. Maria!
Maria was Alessandro's mother, and an
old earthly flame of Marcas '. She was an old woman
and wise. She had the Sight, the ability to tell the difference between
mortals, Angels, and Demons. I trusted her implicitly. She was sitting at the
table when we came in, but she stood now carefully before making her way over
to our group. Her eyes met mine.
"You look strong, Naphil ," she said with a nod of her head.
I wanted to laugh out loud. I knew I
didn't look the least bit strong. Tired, wrung out, too skinny, but never
strong. But I didn't argue with her because I knew she wasn't referring to my
physical appearance. She saw the magic that flowed over me, and she knew its
strength. If nothing else, my power was definitely stronger. Her eyes narrowed
as she gazed at me, and I saw her glance briefly at Bezaliel who was speaking now with Alessandro.
"Come, Naphil .
Walk a moment with an old woman. Let's leave these men to their negotiations,
shall we?" Maria said as she practically shoved me back out into the hall.
Bezaliel looked up, his
eyes sharp, but Alessandro just shook his head.
"Leave my mother be ,
Old One. There is no arguing with her."
The door to the refectory closed between
us. I wasn't
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