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“I must speak with her,now.”
“Didn’t you hear? You’re not in a position to be making demands. I must say, none of us thought you would bestupidenough to come here on your own, but here you are.”
“I suppose you expected an army?”
“Had youbroughtan army, this would’ve been a fair engagement, and I would’ve had something fun to do today. Instead, I get the disappointing chore of dragging you, and only you, into our dungeons.”
I looked around at the angels lining up behind me. There were four of them now. Only two of them were armed, but they seemed to have found their resolve with Azrael, Helena’s Lieutenant, nearby. Perhaps I had bitten off more than I could chew.
But not likely.
“I’ll ask one more time,” I said. “Bring me Sarakiel. None of your whelps have to get hurt… although they could all use the taste of real battle. Tell me, was their pitiful trainingyourdoing?”
Azrael let her eyes close. She turned her head down and sighed. “Alright,” she said. “We’ll do this the hard way.”
“Tell me. What’s the hard way?”
“Abaddon,” she declared, the sound of my own name boiling the blood in my veins. “Guardian of the Third Choir, Second of His Name, Warden of the Word—you are hereby under arrest for trespassing against the Bastion of Helena. Come quietly…you will not receive a second request.”
Until now, I had been… calm. There were few out there who dared use my name, my full name, and Azrael was insufferable enough to be one of them. She, like some others, thought they could provoke me by reciting that old litany; by using a name that had been taken from me..
And she was right.
“If I were you,” I warned, my tone lowering, “I would watch my tongue.”
“And if I were you, I would surrender before I embarrassed myself,” she said, a slight grin playing across her lips.
She was goading me into a confrontation. That was what she wanted. But I had come here for Sarakiel, not to settle some old grudge or to prove my superiority to the angels here. No. I wasn’t going to let this minor Warrior with delusions of grandeur lure me into a pointless battle.
I needed to get to Sarakiel, and if the only way to accomplish that was to get arrested, then so be it.
“I have come here to speak with Sarakiel,” I said, raising my hands. “Not to fight with you or your subordinates—although I stand by the point I made earlier. They are woefully unprepared for an attack, and that is a fatal error.”
“Nobody dares attack Helena,” she barked. “We are safe out here.”
“Medrion dares.”
Her eyes lowered. “Medrion? Why would the Archangel attack Helena? We are allies.”
“The Archangel does well to hide his marks… I have sensed his corruption for years, but my accusations were always rebuked. Now, I have proof, and she’s flown all the way here from the site of the brutal battle. I need to see her. Throw me in your dungeon if you want but grant me an audience at least.”
Azrael seemed to consider my words carefully. There was now a small gathering of armed angels around us, and she wasn’t like me—she cared what her subordinates thought of her. That was her mistake, her flaw, the only weakness I knew to exploit besides defeating her in a physical fight, which…well, I was sure I could do, but it would’ve been interesting.
“You are not welcome here,” she said, “You are a blight upon our kind, a stain on the angelic spirit.” She advanced on me, her hand set lazily on the pommel of her sword. “I am going to arrest you, Abaddon. I am going to throw you into our dungeon, and I am going to enjoy doing it. And you are going to come quietly. If, and only if, you comply, I will consider your request.”
Enjoy it while you can,I thought. There would come a time when Azrael and I would face off in the field again. I was certain of this. When that time came, I would remind her of this conversation—remind her how she gloated when I surrendered, willingly, to her authority.
“Very well,” I said, meeting my hands together behind my back “I surrender.”
Azrael reached me, placed a hand on my shoulder, and spun me around to face her men. “Walk,” she barked.
Gritting my teeth, I walked. The men ahead of me seemed to have found their confidence once more, judging by the size of their smirks. I allowed them to have their moment; the smiles would be wiped from their faces when they learned what Sarakiel and I knew—what was coming for them too.
By the time I reached the main courtyard, our audience had doubled in size. There were many angels waiting to watch meget marched into Helena’s dungeon. None of them were Helena herself, though, nor did I lay eyes on Sarakiel.
It was clear they were shielding her from me, and I suspected it had to do with Medrion and his poisonous words; he had said something to turn her against me, but what exactly had transpired between them I did not know—yet.
CHAPTER SIX
