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But her army of the dead, and the Goddess's army of angels, were not the only ones. While there were those who cowered in confusion, the eye of her mind, which gave her as much scope and detail of what was occurring on the Earth as she wished, also saw merpeople in the seas, Neptune at their head, his trident in one hand, a lethal sword in the other. The fairies and other magical beings who still lived in the shadowy corners of the world were taking up arms as well, working alongside the remains of their ancestors to repel the obvious threat. As were the humans.
She was able to catch glimpses of stunned amazement as humans came face-to-face with not only the shadows of their nightmares, but the light of their faith, seeing angels with their own eyes, fighting on their behalf.
The world was going to change. Perhaps for better, or for worse. Or maybe it would only change for a little while before going back to what it was. That didn't concern her. She was tiring.
It is time to start laying them back to rest, wouldn't you say, young one?
The Goddess's light had drawn closer, but not too close. She understood they could be integrated, but not meshed. Mina would have long, lonely years to reflect on the glimpse she'd had into the Deity's mind and study it in recall. Mina had never imagined that the purity of that light could work in concert with her own darkness so effortlessly.
Always something new to learn. The Goddess had that same gentle amusement that made her heart ache for David. Mina was beginning to think humor was a whole other type of magical system she needed to explore, for it certainly had wrested unexpected responses from her when David used it.
David...
Enough for one day. She pushed it aside. With the balancing of the Lady behind her, she reached out, began to lay the dead back to rest as the Lady restored Her Earth, the cracked mountains and ruptured plains, the flooding caused by the disrupted oceans, as if they'd never occurred.
Amongst all of that work, the angels continued their bloody and fiery work, dispatching Dark Ones trying to escape them. The incineration of the bodies caused repetitive bursts of flame in the air, then a sweep of light below as the wind and weather angels stayed busy, carrying the ash away.
It took some time, the sense that the threat and challenge had passed, but even as she grew so weary it felt as if death were closing in on her, she kept on, for with each thing she didn't have left to do, the sense of loss she'd staved off was closing in as well.
Her spirit and body were exhausted. As the adrenaline drained away and she watched the angels finish their work, report in to the Goddess such that the Lady let her know she could dissipate that sphere of energy and open up the layers of the Earth's atmosphere again, a numbness began to settle over her. Even the Dark One blood, which usually was eager to goad at her despair, was silent. Maybe because it knew, for today at least, it had lost. Nothing could touch her today.
She was on the mountaintop again. Alone. Snow beneath her bare feet, a pale sun in the sky. All she had to do was turn, and she would see him. What remained of him. He was right next to her, for in the corner of her eye she could see the crumpled form. Loose feathers brushed her calves, brought there by a taunting wind, and she clutched them before they could get away, bringing them to her face, smelling him, feeling the softness.
Oh, gods, she couldn't bear it.
And then a familiar set of fingers curled around her ankle.
HIS heart was still in his chest.
She dropped to her knees by him, and where she'd been afraid to touch before, now she did, probably causing him discomfort, but she had to see. It was a wound. A knife wound, but they hadn't taken his heart. Amal had said they would not kill him, and they hadn't.
"David. I'm here. It's done. We did it."
His mouth moved, but it was torn, his teeth mostly gone, his tongue a swollen mass that seeped blood from the corner when he tried to talk.
"Ssh..." She laid her fingers lightly on his mouth, barely a brush, and still caused him pain.
You knew he was alive. She sent the accusation toward the presence she still felt hovering close. You could have told me.
The choice had to be yours. You needed to know to what lengths you would go to honor his love, to see how it changed you.
So you risked the Fate of your world, your angels, the humans, for that? Mina raised her head, stared out at that light, the shimmering shape of a woman in it.
What goes on inside each soul, young one, is far more important than epic battles. Inside each soul the Fate of the universe is decided, every day. And that will continue, even as gods and goddesses wax and wane. Who you became today saved us all.
WHEN Raphael and Jonah got to the mountain, the Lady's light had faded. Mina was weeping, her hand resting on David's face, over those sightless eyes. With her body bent forward, her forehead was pressed into the blood on his chest. The Trumpet lay on the ground near them both.
It was Jonah who gently extricated the witch, amazed by the slightness of her, after all they'd just seen her do. As he lifted her coiled body in his arms, her residual power was still so prominent it washed over his skin, briefly illuminated the script praises to the Goddess branded into his gauntlets. It also heated the frozen earth beneath his feet, turned snow into mud and sprouted several small fir saplings.
"Let Raphael heal him," he murmured, trying not to look at David's ruined body. "Let us take him back to the Citadel."
She nodded against his throat, her hands curled over her own face now, hiding the way the anguish distorted the scarred features. "Take me back to my cave."
"Don't you want to-"
"I can't stay at the Citadel. That hasn't changed. Nothing's changed. This is because of me."
Jonah caught her chin, forced it up, and was rewarded by a tiny flare deep in those still, red eyes, even though he realized he could be putting himself in grave peril. Ignoring that, he gestured around them. "You just annihilated the Dark One threat to this world. That is because of you."
"It doesn't matter. He was what mattered. Just take me back to where I belong."
Twenty-five
SO she'd saved the world. Big whoop-de-do. She'd discovered that word in a crossword puzzle book she'd found floating in the water on one of her scant outings. Probably dropped over the side of a pleasure cruiser.
What the angels had been trying to accomplish in small skirmishes for thousands of years had been done in the course of several hours. The significant decimation of the Dark One numbers, the destruction of their rift mechanism. Jonah had been right. They would have a time of rest, at least against this foe. The humans would struggle with their darkness on a more favorably balanced playing field. Jonah could have time to enjoy his daughter.
She had no worries about the irritation of guardian angels anymore. The generally accepted theory was that very little was a threat to her now. Dark Ones certainly weren't going to be coming near her anytime soon. Listlessly, she kept tabs on Dante and the remaining ones through her dreams, for Jonah occasionally dropped into her mind to ask. Annoying blood link. She needed to devote some energy to figuring out how to neutralize or reverse that.
The ocean water was colder today, it seemed. So cold. She kept the cave dry most of the time now, not venturing out for much. Her joints ached and muscles cramped as they always did, and as always she used them to balance the darkness in her against whatever the hell the other part of her was now.
She was lonely. Lonely for David, in a way that made the aching in her muscles and joints minor twinges in comparison. But he certainly didn't need her. She'd gotten him tortured, nearly killed. There was nothing she could do to help heal him. Hell, when it came to the two of them, it had always been her heart and soul more in need of rescue.
Rising, she moved to her bookshelves, found the yellow bound book, took out The Littlest Angel to retrieve the feather trapped there. One of his daggers lay on the shelf beside it. She'd returned to that mountaintop in her mind, scoured the snow and found his weapons, for she'd suspected
the Dark Ones had brought them to the final battleground. Probably had used them on him. Gods. She'd sent the rest to Jonah, but this one she kept. Holding the grip now, she rested her forehead against the flat of the blade. Thought about how David drew it across her flesh, used pain to make the pain go away. And trembled.
She might not need protection from Dark Ones anymore, but she needed protection from her thoughts, which could bedevil her in her solitude until she went mad.
That's it. She stood up, slamming the book down on the shelf and jammed the dagger into the rock wall, squeezing the grip hard. She couldn't bear it anymore.
She still couldn't claim to understand what love was. She'd thought it was staying away from him. But it was becoming apparent she couldn't any longer. And maybe that was love, too.
Strange witch. You make love potions more often than any other, and yet you claim to know nothing of love.
She could almost hear his voice. Sighing, she focused on the Citadel, sifted through energies, and found the blood link with the Legion Commander.
Jonah. How is he? She asked it daily, though she knew what she would hear. Each time, it left her with a lingering uneasiness, as if it was she who had the answer to the question. Yet still, she'd done nothing. Kept stalling, an exercise in self-discipline. He didn't need her.
Same. A pause, but she waited, knowing Jonah wouldn't spare her. He'd done that at first, and she'd snapped at him. Informed him that, while he was used to dealing with a woman with much more easily bruised feelings-with feelings, period-Mina was not that woman. Though they both knew the insult was misplaced, for Anna had a core of steel underneath her sensitive nature.
The Dark Blood is inhibiting his healing. Maybe some other things. He paused again, and this time he surprised her with something new. It is in my mind that he would do well to see you.
She remained silent a few moments. Oh, gods, that sealed it. As long as she hadn't had an invitation, she could keep her resolve. Oh, hell, no, she couldn't. She was pretty sure she'd been about to break just now, go with or without any encouragement.
