Iwasn’t sure what to start cleaning up first. The blood or the bodies. I remained motionless, looking between the deceased angels and the floor.
“Who started this mess?” Kaelthos asked, eyes scanning the room.
Seventh Choir kept their eyes down and mouths shut. To their credit, Xadari Legion also kept quiet, refusing to answer Farasee Kaelthos. I swallowed and lifted a wing.
“I did, Farasee Kaelthos.” I lifted my chin, meeting his golden eyes. “I take full responsibility.”
His nostrils flared.
“Your irresponsibility led to the deaths of six Disciples.” He looked at me with disgust, hovering above the floor so his robes wouldn’t touch any blood. “You should be ashamed.”
“Yes, Farasee.” I lowered my eyes. “I am responsible for the loss of these six Disciples and three Fallenspawn.”
Quazar looked at me when I acknowledged the Fallenspawn. I didn’t have the energy to make sense of his confusing expression. Like a mix of hatred and…gratitude? I couldn’t be sure.
“Farasee Kaelthos, I have been injured in a way I cannot self-heal. May I please see Raephim Zara?—”
“No.”
My gaze snagged on the Farasee. Cruelty filled his eyes.
“Since you caused this, you will help your angel-mates clean up this mess. Then the two of you are coming with me to bring these bodies to the wingyard and to file their spirits.”
I raised a brow. “Whotwo?”
“You can’t be this dense.” Kaelthos pointed a wing. “You and the Fallen bastard.”
“Quazar Valoyen and his Talon did provoke me…” I started. “But they’renotresponsible for this. I struck his Talon, Dakairi, first. Then the Prince. He doesn’t need to be dragged into the wingyard with me. I will go alone.”
“He can and he will,” Kaelthos said, finality in his tone.
“Farasee Kaelthos?—”
“You will not argue with me Anathelle, or I’ll have you sent to the Scourgers.”
I flinched.
Quazar’s shadows pooled at his feet, his eyes piercing through the Farasee’s back since Kaelthos wouldn’t address him to his face.
There was no reason for me to be defending Quazar or any of his Fallenspawn. But Papi had raised me with integrity. I’d lost my temper, and my loss of self-control ended in nine lost lives. I’d have to live with the weight of my blind rage.
There were Disciples and Fallenspawn that wouldn’t see another dawn because of my anger. It was a weight I would always carry. Now that the adrenaline of the first trial had passed, and I was wounded and exhausted, something became undeniably clear.
Rage was expensive. It was deadly and came at a price I couldn’t afford.
“Forgive me, Farasee Kaelthos. I didn’t intend to argue.”
Stars, I hated having to be polite with this brute. But he was a Farasee. He was one of the leading heads of the Order. An Order I was striving to be a part of. I had to respect him out of reverence for the office he held.
Waving my hands, I summoned a stack of large towels into my hands. I kicked off my sandals, lowered to the floor—wincing as I got down—and kneeled into the blood. The blood drenched my gown to the knees. It was still warm. Still full of life.
Stars. What had I just done?
Ignoring everyone watching me, I began dabbing at the blood on the floor. The first two towels were instantly drenched with how much blood I’d soaked up. My hair spilled over my shoulders into the blood. I didn’t care. I kept wiping as much as I could, wiping the floor of my shame.
Amayah flew to my side, summoned her own stack of towels, and began wiping up blood beside me. I took in her warm brown skin, and beach blonde coily hair as it fell, like mine, into the blood on the floor. She didn’t push her hair out of the way, either. Then Daelun joined us. Isandra. Kazemir. Omarion.
Quazar had removed his waistcoat, remaining in a fitted black shirt that clung to every shred of muscle he had. The shirt ended at his biceps, exposing his arms and the inscriptions running all along his arms and down to his hands. Eyes focused, he began wiping up the blood of the Fallenspawn. The rest of his Talons followed suit.
