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That third angel with dark wings had moved like a blur, like a bullet, going right through the Guardians’ shield as if it wasn’t there. I heard him speak, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying because he was keeping his voice low.
“They have a Seeker,” said the Tyrant.
“A Seeker…”like Gadriel.The pain came quickly, and suddenly. It caught me off guard. Not just the fact that it was there, but just how much it still hurt. I hadn’t been able to let go of what happened to her. As far as my heart was concerned, I had watched her get marched out of the cells and toward the pit just the other night.
The Tyrant placed a hand on my shoulder. He didn’t speak, but the frown on his face showed concern.
“I’m alright,” I said, and I turned my attention at the shimmering dots of light in the sky. They were closer, now. Far closer. Medrion would be here any minute, and I realized in that instant, I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready to see him again. I wasn’t ready to fight him again. I wanted to kill him, make him suffer for what he had done to us. But I also needed him alive, because as much as I knew Medrion would say and do anything to save his own skin, I partly believed him. If Lucifer fell along with the rest of us, then Medrion may be the only one who knows where on Earth he is. If he didn’t, and he was still chained to the mouth of the pit somewhere in Heaven, then we didn’t need Medrion at all.
The Seeker Helena had been talking to zipped away from her, made a circle around the Bastion’s tall, white tower, and perched upon its brilliant peak. Helena lowered herself onto the parapets where the Tyrant and I were standing. As she approached, she gestured toward her people to lower their weapons.
“What’s happening?” asked the Tyrant. “Why are you telling your angels to stand down?”
“Because that’s not Medrion coming to tear down our walls,” she said.
“What?” the Tyrant frowned.
“My scout has just told me the angels approaching us appear to be hurt, many of them are exhausted, and only a handful of them are armed.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, “That’s not an attack?”
“No,” said Helena. She looked at the Tyrant. “Those are your people, Abaddon.”
“Mine?” He asked, his voice rising. “What are you talking about?”
“They bear your colors.”
“My people have no reason to be here. I told them all to stay behind and hold the fort until I returned.”
Helena remained quiet, though I could tell she wanted to speak. It wasn’t long until the incoming band of angels were close enough for me to recognize the black and crimson of theEbon Legion, the shimmer of the sun being absorbed by their armor rather than reflecting it.
“Take your shield down,” said the Tyrant to Helena.
“I can’t do that,” she said.
“Why not?” he barked.
“Because I cannot help but find it convenient that shortly after your arrival, the rest of your Legion appear. How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“Do they look like a well-prepared army, Helena?! You yourself have said they are injured and exhausted!”
Helena’s lips pressed together, tightened. With a scowl, she barked at her Guardians to lower the shield. I watched it collapse in an instant, the field of prismatic rays simply vanishing before my eyes.
“If they cause even a single problem,” Helena warned the Tyrant, leaving the rest unsaid.
The Tyrant didn’t respond. Instead, he glared at her, struggling to keep the anger he was clearly wrestling with inside. He grabbed the edge of the walls, vaulted over it, and went soaring into the sky on his dark wings. I smiled at Helena.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No need to thank me,” she said.
“Why not?”
“I was always going to let them in. I just wanted to make sure I could trust him.”
“Do you?”
