Antonicus had made his choice and today, they would see the outcome. Still, after landing atop the roof of the border fort, Raphael made his way to the Ancient and said, “You are resolved to do this even now that you see the darkness of what you face?”
“Yes, pup. I do not know how you do things, but I hold to my convictions.”
Those convictions had been set with little real information, Raphael thought. But all he said was, “So be it.” Antonicus was no youth; he was an Ancient and he was making this call while staring at what awaited.
“I have seen nightmares you can’t comprehend,” Antonicus added. “A jumped-up faux-goddess is no threat to me.”
Raphael gave a nod of acknowledgment before making his way to an angel with wings of pristine white. “Eli, you have beaten me here.” He and the Archangel of South America had planned to fly together, keeping company on the long journey, but then a quake had hit Elijah’s territory, and he’d had to remain behind for half a day to deal with it. When Raphael offered to assist, Elijah had told him to go ahead as Raphael intended to stop in at Amanat to speak to Caliane.
“I was lucky, my friend. My work was done within two hours, not half a day. Then I was able to catch wind currents so strong I feared a cyclone was building. I looked for you in the sky as I flew but you must’ve been far distant.” Eli scanned the rooftop. “Lady Caliane?”
“She broke away to go to Neha’s palace atop the hill.” His mother had wished to have a private conversation with the Archangel of India. “I see her now.”
“Neha flies with her.”
Several others arrived at that instant. Including Aegaeon. “I hear my son is part of your court, Raphael,” he said, his feathers a deep sea green that flowed into blue and his face a harder, craggier version of Illium’s—no one would’ve accused the Hummingbird of deceit had her son been full grown when Aegaeon disappeared into Sleep.
That he was Illium’s progenitor was impossible to miss.
“Illium is one of my Seven.” Raphael forced himself to be civil; if there was to be a confrontation, it belonged to Illium.
“Wild still is he?” Aegaeon’s eyes gleamed with laughing pride. “Always playing tricks, my son.”
“You will excuse me. I must greet my mother.” Raphael had to get away from the angel before he punched him. Not many people aroused such primal anger in Raphael, but Aegaeon stood in first place.
Both for what he’d done to the Hummingbird, and what he’d done to Illium. As if they had no more importance to him than any other angel in his harem. Raphael would never forget finding the Hummingbird’s mischievous, laughing boy curled up in a heap behind a tumble of rocks, crying in heartbroken silence. Aegaeon had left without warning, with no care for the small heart that worshipped him.
He came to a stop near where Caliane and Neha had landed. “Mother. Neha.”
Neha gave a nod of acknowledgment, but her eyes were on the fog. “Do you feel it?”
“Yes.” A heavy sense of oppression, a near-physical touch. “Is it causing weather changes in your territory?”
“My weather scientists say it has to do with how the fog is disrupting the ground to sky flow in Lijuan’s land.” Dressed in the faded leathers of a warrior, she spoke to Raphael without anger, her only focus the dark fog. She didn’t seem aware of the thin snake wrapped around her left wrist, a living bracelet in tones of dark orange and copper.
Caliane was dressed much the same except that her hair was out while Neha had braided her own. The three of them moved to the edge of the fort roof. The others soon joined them.
“Did any of you fly over China on your way here?” Neha asked.
“It was not on our route, but Zanaya and I deliberately detoured there,” Alexander said.
“We have sent mechanical devices that fly and take pictures above the fog,” Neha said, “but they can only go a certain distance before their energy runs out. Did you see anything unusual during your flight?”
“Darker patches in certain sections.”
“It seemed thicker,” Zanaya added, “more viscous.”
“The mechanical devices also sent us such images.” Neha’s face was thinner than Raphael was used to seeing, her bones sharp.
“Has anyone come out of the territory since the fog descended?” Michaela’s voice, her body held with a familiar languidness where she stood next to Titus. “My sentries have reported none on the Mongolian border.”
“I have had no new refugees,” Caliane said.
“Nothing alive has crossed this border,” Neha said. “Not even a bird. The ones on this side are now avoiding it, as if they have heard the death screams of their fallen brethren.” She pointed down. “My people would normally clean that up, but I wanted you to see.”
Raphael’s blood went cold at the sight that awaited: a row of birds, all fallen at the edge of the fog. Tiny corpses that told a story of cold, sudden death.
“How long between contact and death?” Astaad asked, a smear of dust on his sleeveless black tunic.
“As far as we can tell, it is instantaneous.” Neha looked to Caliane.
Raphael’s mother nodded. “The birds touch the fog and they drop, already dead. It is not the fall that kills them, that we have determined. Smaller animals, even snakes, have been found dead with their heads just inside the fog and bodies outside.”
“Enough.” Antonicus stepped back from the group on that single contemptuous word and spread out his wings. “It is time I do what must be done—I am not a child to be scared by ghost stories. I will see you all after I return from speaking to this Lijuan who believes herself a goddess even over immortals.”
The Ancient lifted off. He’d initially intended to fly to the part of the fog over Lijuan’s stronghold before he dropped down, but that would put him far from sight and they needed to know what would happen to an archangel who flew into the fog.
Antonicus had finally agreed to do a short flight into the fog within their line of sight, rise up to show them he was well, then make his way to the coordinates of Lijuan’s former stronghold—in that at least he’d accepted assistance, and was wearing a watch that would help him find the correct location. He also wore a small camera on his left shoulder that would transmit images back to a unit that sat to one side of the roof.
Antonicus crossed the border. No one spoke. Not even when the Ancient reached the test location deep within the fog area but still visible to them.
He lifted an arm, and Neha raised hers to show him they could see him. That hadn’t been guaranteed given the darkness, but enough torchlight leached out that far to make Antonicus a clear silhouette.