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“I do.”
“There’s a rack over there. Pick one and get ready.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll want to arm me,” said the Tyrant.
“That depends,” she said, “Are you going to use it on my people, or are you going to defend this Bastion?”
“As much as you may wish to think it, Helena, we are not enemies.”
“Over the years you have campaigned to prove quite the opposite, so I think you can forgive my hesitation.”
“If you are concerned about one angel with a sword, then you are not ready to face Medrion’s forces,” he warned.
“You’ll find we’re harder to chew through than you think. Grab a weapon, andmake yourself useful,” she barked. With that, Helena took to the skies again to join with Azrael, who was holding position in the air high above the main courtyard.
The Tyrant stood in frustrated silence for a moment. I whistled at him, then tossed him a blade. He caught it by the pommel, but only barely. “Really not used to being talked to like that, are you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Lightbringers,” he said, under his breath.
So, that’s what she is,I thought, turning my eyes up at her. It made sense. I had never seen a Fallen angel radiate with so much Light, not even Medrion. How had she mustered so much power, what secrets did she know, and how could I learn them?
Those questions were going to have to wait.
I took hold of a sword and twirled it around in my hand, getting a feel for the weight. It was a good sword, well balanced, and ornately decorated. The blade itself was metallic, but it had a rose sheen to it as did the full-plate armor Helena’s angels wore. It sang as I swung it through the air, preparing myself to have to use it against another angel.
“Angels,” Helena called out, her voice like a megaphone. “An unknown force approaches. We do not know who they are or what they want, but we must assume they are enemies. Prepare yourselves. Sharpshooters, ready your arrows, but await my command. Guardians, ready the shield.”
The Tyrant frowned. “Shield?” he asked.
At her command, several of the angels arranged on the walls raised a hand each. A spot of Light burst from their fingertips, followed by a shimmer of prismatic rays that shot out in all directions. As the rays met each other they began to interlink, slowly expanding beyond the Bastion’s walls.
There, more rainbow-colored rays converged and joined to create a spider’s web of shimmering light; a field that was tightly knit and hummed with power. The Guardians on the wall lowered their hands, but their prismatic shield remained, stretching all the way along Helena’s walls, and what looked to be several hundred feet into the air, creating a dome around the Bastion.
Awestruck, I leapt onto the walls, the Tyrant following close behind. Together we took up positions along the easternmost edge of Helena’s Bastion and watched as the shining dots along the horizon grew brighter, and closer. Though a shield was in place between us and the figures flying toward us, I could still see them clearly.
“Can you see who they are?” I asked.
“No. They are too far,” he said, then he paused. “If it’s Medrion…”
“He may have trouble with this shield?” I ventured. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Nor have I… but I doubt it will stop him.”
“Maybe it won’t stop him, but it may buy us some time.”
He looked across at me. “Whatever happens, stay close to me.”
I glanced up at him. “And why’s that?”
“So I can protect you.”
“There are other people here who need your protection too,Guardian.”
“I don’t care about any of them.”
A cold breeze whipped past us, then, chilling me to my core. I could see it in his eyes, his intent, his truth. He would let this place burn before he let anything happen to me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I didn’t think I was any more important than any of the angels here—I certainly wasn’t more important than Helena, or Micah.
That cold breeze turned into a sudden gust, as a shadow zipped above us and went shooting toward Helena. I didn’t know what I had just seen, but when I turned around, there weren’t two angels floating in midair—Helena, and Azrael. There were three.
