* * *
* * *
The vast majority of both immortals and mortals were in a deep sleep, and pack-up was complete but for odds and ends. It was one of the latter that currently held Aodhan’s interest: he was helping a human resident tie their belongings to the roof of their vehicle. The man had already done it, then woken up unable to sleep, decided it was badly arranged and restarted.
Aodhan understood needing to do something, anything to keep the nightmares at bay, so he’d said nothing about the unnecessary work, just stepped in to assist. He didn’t need to sleep tonight, and—with Illium—was part of the crew on night watch. He and the young mortal were almost done when Suyin’s voice entered his mind.
Aodhan, please find Illium, then meet me at the edge of the settlement—near the sleeping hazel tree.
I just saw him. We’ll be there soon.
The mortal’s belongings secured, he rose up into the sky in the direction he’d spotted Illium.
Illium turned at almost the same instant, as if he’d sensed Aodhan.
Their awareness of one another was part of what made them such great partners in battle. It was nothing mystical, rather the result of centuries of friendship and knowledge of each other.
Not mystical but . . . special.
Waving for the other man to wait, he headed over and told Illium of Suyin’s request.
Illium frowned even as they turned to fly toward the tree devoid of blooms or leaves, a bleak sight that would’ve blended in with the night sky if not for the portable “street light” that stood close to it. Those lights would usually be dotted heavily throughout the settlement, for Zhangjiajie was otherwise a cool darkness after nightfall.
Most, however, had already been packed in readiness for transport, only a final few left to act as beacons for anyone who woke before dawn. In a land known for a death fog that devoured in chilling silence, no one found comfort in the pitch dark of a moonless night.
“I wonder if it’s about Fei,” Illium said, the words traveling easily to Aodhan on the motionless air.
Aodhan didn’t have a chance to respond. They’d arrived at the meeting location. Rii, who’d been speaking to Suyin before they arrived, slipped away even as Aodhan and Illium folded back their wings. The mortal headman passed under the street light for a second, and Aodhan saw that his features were pinched, his lips pale.
Suyin allowed Rii to get out of hearing range before she said, “We have a problem.”
No warrior working at his archangel’s side ever wanted to hear such a statement. That went double-fold—triple-fold—in what had once been Lijuan’s land.
Illium groaned and slapped a hand over his face. “Go to China, they said. It’ll be a cakewalk, they said. Nothing much to do, they said.”
Suyin stared at Illium, while Aodhan shifted a minute fraction toward his friend, fighting the urge to wrap Illium protectively in his wings. Suyin didn’t know Illium’s humor, didn’t understand how he used it to try to lighten the dark, and despite her lack of “scariness,” she was an archangel, an archangel who was highly stressed . . . but then she burst into such laughter as Aodhan had never before heard from her.
It filled her eyes, broke the tension that locked her shoulders, lit her skin from within. At that instant, she was glorious, and he knew he’d paint her exactly so, with her body clad in warrior leathers, her wings held with strict control, her hands on her hips, and delight on her face.
“Would it not be splendid were it so?” she said to Illium, her lips curved and eyes dancing. “I dream of ruling a boring land in a boring time where the most exciting event will be the escape of someone’s prize bull, or perhaps a shocking fashion faux pas where two angels turn up to a court dinner in the same clothing. Would that not be a wonderful life?”
Illium’s grin was so real it stole Aodhan’s breath. “At least for a century or two.”
“Yes, but it appears we are not to have even a few days of peace.” Smile fading, she ran her hand through her hair. It rippled through her fingers like silken water. “The woman you found—Fei—no one in the entire settlement knows her or of her.
“General Arzaleya, who is in close contact with the scholars charged with keeping track of our population, confirmed the same just prior to your arrival. Fei did not exist before this night.”
“ ‘She’s here. She walks in death.’ ” Illium shifted to look over his shoulder on that eerie recitation, in the direction from which the stranger had come. “Guess there’s no question now. She must’ve come from Vetra’s troubling hamlet.”
“Just so,” Suyin said. “I would tell you to speak to her, but our senior healer, Fana, visited her earlier this day after Rii became concerned about her increasing lack of responsiveness. Fana was unable to get through to her. She has turned mute but not in the way of stubbornness, in the way of a being with a wounded mind.” Compassion in Suyin’s tone. “I’ll get word to you if she comes out of it once we are away from here.”
As an archangel, Suyin could’ve literally broken into the woman’s mind—but given Suyin’s own past, such an action was not one of which she was capable. It would damage her as badly as it would damage the mortal.
So it was that Aodhan made no effort to remind her of her ability. “It can’t be the reborn.” Their intelligence didn’t rise to the level where they could cover their tracks. “An infected angel as was discovered in Africa?” Only the very senior immortals knew of that abomination.
“Let us hope not.” Suyin rubbed at her eyes for a moment before she dropped her hand. “The one grace is that after tomorrow, there will be no prey here on which this threat—whatever form it now takes—can feed.
“Arzaleya has informed the staff who are to remain behind to stay inside unless you or Illium are nearby—the vast majority of their tasks lie within the stronghold so my order will not hamper them.” A faint glow against the darkness of the tree trunk, Suyin’s wings afire in a silent indication of her rage at all her aunt had done.
That it was viciously contained made it no less deadly. In truth, Aodhan worried at how Suyin stifled her anger. He knew it was hypocritical of him when he’d shut out the world for so long. But by that same token, he understood how much damage such a choice could do.
“Do you think you need more backup?” she asked Aodhan, none of that cold rage evident in her tone. “I may be able to spare you—”
Aodhan was already shaking his head. “No, Suyin, you can’t.” They were working with razor-thin margins. “Illium and I can take care of ourselves. You need every warrior you have to make sure all the survivors make it to their new home.”