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20
Champions of the Immortals
“The Guardians kidnapped your children? Why?” I asked Arina.
“For the same reason they’ve been collecting people for centuries. Except now they’ve moved up their timetable.” She shot me a pointed look.
“Because of me,” I realized. “Because, when they took control over Meda, I freed her, interfering with their plans.”
“You did what you had to in order to save the people of this world,” Arina said. “The Guardians were going to do this no matter what. It was only a matter of when.”
“You mentioned you wanted to keep the knowledge of your children’s magic secret from the Guardians.” I didn’t know what kind of magic Arina’s children had, but it must have been pretty special. “Did the Guardians find out about your kids’ magic because of me?”
Arina shook her head. “I was naive to believe I could keep that knowledge from them. The Guardians have eyes everywhere. Ears everywhere. They already knew, Leda. They just hadn’t moved on that knowledge. Until now.”
“What are the Guardians planning to do?” I asked.
“Enact their ultimate plan: to gain all the magic they believe the Immortals unfairly withheld from them. That’s all I know.”
“The Guardians have taken so many supernaturals. They have a plan for those people, and in that plan, all of them die,” I repeated Faith’s words.
Arina grew very still. “How do you know this?”
“A powerful telepath told me.”
Of course that powerful telepath had used those very words to justify killing many humans, supernaturals, gods, and demons—all to save her brother. But still, despite Faith’s questionable morality, I did believe her words. Faith had believed the Guardians would kill her brother and all of the other supernaturals they kept in their Sanctuary. That knowledge had driven her to take extreme, insane measures.
“Where is this powerful telepath now?” Arina asked.
“Gone.”
Faith’s powers were gone, transferred to my unborn child, which had all been part of Grace’s plan. And Faith was gone too. She’d been locked away by Faris, who still hoped she’d get her powers back—and then he could exploit them.
I was going to ask Arina about her kids’ magic, but then something rather spectacular distracted me: the arrival of five angels. Nero, Damiel, Nyx, Colonel Fireswift, and an angel I assumed was Colonel Dragonblood had landed on the windy deck outside the Court Chamber.
I rose from my chair. “Open the doors,” I instructed the soldiers standing in front of the wall of glass.
Nyx stepped inside the Chamber first, her white wings sparkling like they’d been sprinkled with stardust, her long, gravity-defying black hair in slow, swirly motion around her.
Damiel came next, his bronze hair lightly windswept. His bright blue eyes twinkled when he saw Cadence.
He was followed by Nero. His gorgeous wings, a dark, elaborate tapestry of black, blue, and green feathers, stretched out, then vanished in a flash of magic. His emerald eyes slid over me; the sheer intensity of his stare raised goosebumps up and down my skin. I felt lightheaded, dizzy, even a little feverish. I wondered if anyone would really mind if I leapt off the dais, ran over to Nero, and proceeded to make up for the last week we’d missed.
Colonel Fireswift was next in the procession, looking just as humorless, just as iron-jawed as always. His wings were the color of freshly-shed blood, his eyes hard and cynical, and his body armed to the teeth.
Colonel Dragonblood brought up the rear. I’d never met the angel before. He wore his black hair cropped short, as many no-nonsense angels did. His dark eyes were serious, but they didn’t possess the same cynical edge as Colonel Fireswift’s. His wings were a mixture of both turquoise and orange feathers, highlighted by a few bronze spots that were a perfect match to his complexion. The color combination of his feathers was quite beautiful.
The sergeant with the booming voice quickly began rattling off the five angels’ names and titles. He looked quite excited. So was everyone else. There had rarely been so many angels together in a single place. Eight, to be exact.
While the sergeant pressed on with the lengthly introductions, I quietly observed the fascinating differences in how these different male angels greeted their wives.
Damiel was charming. His words were laced with innuendo designed to incite Cadence. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips and shook her head at his jokes. Her expression softened, however, after he presented her with a gift box.
Colonel Dragonblood bowed to his wife and set his hand on her belly, a sign of respect that she was carrying his child.
Colonel Fireswift was, as expected, very formal when greeting his wife. He really was all about keeping up appearances. And yet, I thought I caught a spark of something in his eyes, something I’d never seen in him before. Devotion. And love. He really loved her.
Nero came to stand before me. “Pandora.” An eyebrow cocked up at me.
