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“My angels. My faithful flock. They will not desert; they will ascend with me! But I do not expect your unenlightened, demonic brain to understand such things.”
“Enough. I will not allow you to reach the tower.”
“When did the infamous Tyrant become such a pet? Perhaps it was when I destroyed your bastion and killed your men, or was it before that, when dear Sarakiel begged you for release?”
“Do not speak of?—”
“The things I did to her…” he continued fondly. “Well, you know better than anyone.” He grinned. He was in the air now, having pulled himself from the stone he was embedded in, slowly creeping closer toward me.
“I saidenough,” I pulled my sword from its scabbard and pointed it toward him, stopping him from getting any closer. “Order your men to stand down, or there will be none of them left by the time we are done talking.”
“Because theEbon Legionis going to dispatch them all?” Medrion asked. “Your legion is a joke. Half of them are dead, a quarter of them joined me in a heartbeat, and the rest… well, I was merciful and allowed them to return to you, though not without getting some assurances from them first.”
“I will not ask you again.”
“Oh, don’t askme. Ask Kalmiya… did she tell you what I asked her to do? Did she tell you how readily she agreed to my request?”
“Spare me your lies,” I snarled.
“It’s a shame she failed me, I will have to deal with her accordingly. But, your Sarakiel has stronger resolve than I gave her credit for, shouldering such a burden on her own when she could’ve easily informed you of your own angel’s betrayal…” Medrion paused, his grin even wider and tinged with the blood that had continued to seep from his nose. “And really, she’s putting all of you at risk, without even telling you the whole truth. Quite selfish.”
I lunged at Medrion, having had enough of his words. My sword thrust toward his midsection, but Medrion was quick enough to dodge it. In an instant, I was on him again with another swipe. This time, Medrion raised his sword arm to deflect my blade, a glowing sword of Light materializing as he did so.
When our blades grazed each other, his was the only one that came back intact. I was left with a useless stub on top of a pommel. Backing away from Medrion, I tossed what was left of my sword to the ground.
“Shame you couldn’t learn this trick,” Medrion said as he examined his shining blade. “Though I don’t expectdemonsto be able to summon Light.”
“I do not need a sword to hurt you,” I said, “Or have you forgotten?”
Medrion’s expression changed. It hardened, darkened. “I have not forgotten how you viciously assaulted me,” he growled. “The pain I felt as I went screaming from Heaven only to land on this wretched planet with broken wings was unfathomable. But now you see them, fully recovered, by the power that Godherself has vested in me! The power I will use to smite you at last,Abaddon.”
He came at me fast, charging through the air with his golden sword raised and held in both hands. I moved, swerving left and right, ducking, and weaving as his sword came down on me again, and again, and again. He was quick, swifter than he had seemed a moment ago for sure. Even without a suit of heavy armor, it was difficult to keep up with his movements.
Difficult, but not impossible.
I beat my wings hard and fast, launching myself toward the tower behind him and surprising him with the sudden movement. When I reached it, I planted my feet against the stone and used it to springboard myself straight into him. I wrapped my arms around his torso and pulled my wings close, sending us both into a spin toward the ground below. Medrion struggled against my grapple, cursing all the way as the jagged rocks got closer and closer and the battlefield around us blurred.
And then, pain. White, hot pain.
Medrion summoned his Light blade in the narrow space between us, impaling me through the gut. Strangely, it felt ice cold as he slid the sword back out of my torso, releasing himself from my grasp and floating in the air mere inches from my face, a look of triumph upon his own.
“I will give Sarakiel your regards,” he said, flying off toward the beacon tower once more.
My vision unfocused as I felt myself falling, one final thought crossing my mind before the darkness took me.
I did it. She got to the tower.
SARAKIEL
I landed at the tower, staggering a few quick steps before regaining my stance and running up the stairs, two by two, to the beacon room. There was Helena, bathed in the Light radiating from the circular globe above, and there was Micah, crouched next to her with a piece of chalk in his hand.
Somehow, I’d made it here before Medrion.
I realized—as I fought to catch my breath—that it was the first time I had been in the presence of the beacon since arriving at Helena, and I was awestruck. It floated gently above us, like a large sphere of glowing, glittering water, untethered to anything around it.
It pulsated rhythmically, briefly bathing the room in its warm, soothing, light before dimming again. It seemed to swell in size whenever it glowed brighter, and in those moments, I could have sworn I heard it humming, like a hymn muffled by a heavy, wooden door.
It reminded me of home, and though I did not know how Helena had created or found it, I knew why it was so heavily defended—usually.
