I sat down on the edge of my bed, reflecting on his words. I understood where my father was coming from, but I couldn’t abandon my morality just to save my own skin. I wanted to do what was right. I wanted to see the good in people—not the bad, as Damiel’s role as Master Interrogator necessitated.
Damiel wasn’t alone. Too often, angels didn’t see the good in people. They saw only threats and monsters. And it was those suspicions that prevented them from seeing other ways, other paths to take. Their pessimism killed all optimism, that little special something that I was holding on to with all that I had.
For it was optimism which allowed me to see the world differently than others. It was what made the impossible possible.
Such were my thoughts as a gentle, balmy ripple of wind whispered through my open balcony door. Goosebumps prickled up across my skin. My gauzy curtains rustled, and Damiel Dragonsire strode into my room, his dark wings dissolving to smoke between one step and the next.
I rose from the bed and planted my hands on my hips. “My castle does have a front door, you know.”
“This way is faster.”
The earthy aroma of rosewood flooded my senses, driving out all else. Damiel’s scent. The Master Interrogator sure knew how to make an entrance.
My father’s warnings were so fresh that they still rang in my ears. Damiel was here, as my father had predicted. And I didn’t think his visit was about pancakes.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“I came to see you, of course.” His tone was easy.
A bizarre notion hit me. Maybe this visit actually was about pancakes—or about something personal, in any case. Maybe he just wanted to see me. Maybe he even wanted to get to know me better.
“If you’re here to bear witness to my Dragon ceremony, you’re about seven hours early. And in the wrong place. It will happen in the throne room.”
“No, I’m not here for that. I have seen so many ceremonies, after all.”
Of course he had. I wondered why I was so disappointed by his words. We were angels. I wanted to be friends—ok, maybe more than friends—but I knew all too well that angels didn’t have long relationships with other angels. They never worked out. Angels’ territorial instincts inevitably flared up and they fought.
I liked Damiel, but our adventure together didn’t change angel nature. I wasn’t sure anything could.
“So if this isn’t about my Dragon ceremony, then what brings you to my balcony at this late hour?”
“I caught Eva Doren’s airship and captured her pirates,” he told me. “We’ve interrogated them.”
“You didn’t come all the way here to tell me that.”
“No, I came all the way here because I need your help, Cadence. When interrogating Eva Doren, we learned something unusual about the Diamond Tear. It’s not like other immortal artifacts.”
“I know. Its magic is different. Somehow.”
“Yes,” he said. “It has a special power. According to Eva Doren, it can bring you to other worlds, much like the gods’ magic mirrors. Except the Diamond Tear is far more powerful. Because unlike the magic mirrors, whose entrances and exits are always set, always unchangeable, the dagger can bring you anywhere on any world.”
“And you trust her?”
“I trust my interrogation methods.”
His interrogation methods were exactly what my father had warned me about. Damiel didn’t always question someone directly. Could he be interrogating me right now, and I didn’t even realize it?
“There’s more,” Damiel told me. “The Diamond Tear is not alone. It is part of a set.”
“There’s another one?” I chewed on my lip. “Eva said she was after something, something that would change everything.” I snapped my fingers together. “The other dagger. That’s what she was after when she took off in her airship.”
“Yes. And now we’re going to find it.”
“Why do you need me?”
“The Diamond Tear responds well to your magic. You have already demonstrated you can wield its power. It will more likely follow your commands than mine.”
“I never used it to open a portal to another world.”
“The dagger knows how to do it. You just need to nudge it in the right direction. Tell it to seek out its partner dagger. According to Eva, they can find each other, even across worlds.”
“Those are some powerful weapons,” I commented.
“Weapons we must ensure end up in our arsenal, not the Dark Force’s,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“My Dragon ceremony is tomorrow morning, Damiel. I can’t run off on an interworld mission right now.”
“You will be back in time,” he assured me.
“It’s not prudent.”
“Stop being so prudent, so perfect.”
“This is a trick.” I frowned. “It’s another test. You’re trying to entrap me, to make me act badly. Then you’ll land me in a load of trouble because of it.”
“I will do nothing of the sort.” A slight smile curled his lips. “But it’s nice to see your suspicious angel nature is finally setting in.”
I grinned at him. “I’m only suspicious of you.”
I could tell he wasn’t lying about this. Somehow I could. Even so…
“My father told me to be wary of you.”
He snorted. “Of course he did. General Silverstar is no fool. But I’ll relieve you of your fears now.” He reached into his leather jacket and handed me the document he’d pulled out.
I glanced down at the page. Printed on it were orders from Nyx, orders commanding me to join Damiel on his intergalactic scavenger hunt.
I looked up from the page to meet Damiel’s eyes. Well, that settled that. Even the great archangel General Silverstar couldn’t argue with Nyx’s orders. I would be joining Damiel to find the second dagger. I only hoped it didn’t end as my father feared any further mission with Damiel would: with me in chains.
17
The Magic Eaters
Tapping into the Diamond Tear’s power was effortless, natural. As though the dagger had been made just for me. Ancient power coursed through my body. It was a powerful, unsettling, delightful feeling.
My hand had only just closed around the hilt when a sparkly glow slithered down the silver blade. I could feel the pull of another dagger, an immortal artifact both completely like and yet unlike the Diamond Tear. Magic shot out of the dagger in my hand, exploding into a starburst of bright white light that swallowed me and Damiel whole.
My bedroom faded away. In an instant, the temperature plummeted. My breath froze on my lips. A fresh blanket of snow covered the ground. Damiel and I stood in a large open field.
“We aren’t on Earth anymore,” I commented.
I knew that immediately when I gazed up. Two moons dominated the night sky: one moon waxing, one waning. There were only a few scattered clouds tonight, but they somehow only added to the tranquility.
“This place is so balanced, so symmetrical. So harmonious,” I said. “The whole world seems to be sitting perfectly on that pinpoint, that balance point, the perfect pinnacle. It feels so different from Earth, which is caught in the crossfire of warring magic—of monsters and humanity, of civilization and the wilds.”