“Absolutely,” said Raya.
Phoenix put on a look of humble contrition.
Raya placed a hand on Justinian’s considerable bicep. “Why don’t we go to your cave and talk about it?”
In one swift movement, Justinian returned the flaming sword to its earlier form and settled the headlamp in place on his forehead. “All right. But one false move, demon—” He pointed a finger at Phoenix.
“Yes, yes. I get it. Flaming swords and flying heads. No problem.”
Justinian turned away, his broad back flexing as he headed deeper into the tunnels.
25
Phoenix reached out a hand to slow Raya as they followed Justinian through the twisting corridors of rough-hewn limestone. The delay gave him just enough space to whisper without fear of being overheard. “Why did you tell him that? We’re here to ask him a favor, and now he’s expecting me to do something for him?”
“Oh, and you were doing so well on your own? You’re lucky I was there to stop him!”
The light from Justinian’s headlamp swept over them both as he turned his head. “Watch your step. There is water in the next room.”
They entered a high-ceiling cavern that echoed with the sound of water falling in single droplets from the stalactites above to an underground lake that stretched into the distance. The sandy path dead-ended at the water’s edge.
Justinian stopped. “I will have to fly you across, mortal.” He held out his hand. “Fear not.” Wings the color of old parchment bloomed from his back.
Phoenix felt an illogical stab of jealousy. Damn all angels and their cursed gallantry.
Raya stepped forward and took Justinian’s hand. She patted it, then released it. “Thank you. But Phoenix needs the practice.”
Phoenix’s jaw dropped. “I—what?”
Justinian regarded Phoenix. “He is an untrustworthy fiend. Are you sure, madame?”
Raya turned her gaze to him and her eyes glittered in the weird light of the cave. “Should I be sure, Phoenix?”
Strange feelings flashed through Phoenix as he looked into her eyes. This was about more than just carrying her across a body of water.
Justinian watched them both.
Phoenix held her gaze. “Yes. You should. I carried you once, I’ll carry you again. I’ll never let you fall.” He swept her off her feet and into his arms so fast she squeaked.
The angel nodded once, almost as if in approval, then took off and glided across the water.
Phoenix unfolded his wings and followed, holding Raya tightly. They reached the other side. He set her down gently.
Raya placed one hand on his cheek. “Thank you.” She turned to follow Justinian.
Phoenix wanted to say something—anything—but his thoughts tripped over themselves and nothing came out. He hurried to catch up as they preceded him through a gap in the stone.
A sharp turn revealed an arched opening made of weathered stone blocks.
Justinian removed the headlamp and allowed it to transform into a flaming sword, providing radiant illumination as they entered a large chamber beyond the arch. He placed the sword into a grate, from which it shed flickering firelight over the room.
Stone niches lined the walls, each filled with books stored in neat rows. A smooth-topped boulder served as a spartan table, its surface covered with more books and a few empty boxes from Justine’s bakery. A wooden rack, dark with age, held an assortment of dusty bottles.
Justinian piled up the books on the table, each one releasing a puff of dust as it landed. “Forgive the mess. I have not had visitors in—”
“Forever?” Raya ran her fingers over the bookshelves.
Phoenix looked around for a place to sit and found a stone bier. He hopped up and sat with legs dangling. “It has a certain rustic charm.”
