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When Jack answered, it was with the assurance and gravity of a much older presence, revealing a small glimpse into the very ancient creature behind the young vampire mask. What had Lawrence called him? Abbadon. The Angel of Destruction. The Angel of the Apocalypse. One of the most fearsome of Lucifer's former generals.
"The cycles are the key to our existence; they guarantee our continued invisibility in the human world. According to the Code, the expression of each spirit is closely monitored and recorded. There are lists and rules that govern who is called up, and by whom and when. There was no record of Allegra being allowed to bear a daughter in this cycle. So the mere fact that you were born was already a violation."
From birth she had been a mistake, Schuyler thought. Her mother... that still, silent figure in the hospital bed... why did she choose to have me? Schuyler wondered.
"But so what? That still doesn't explain it. Why would they even care about that? What's it to them? It doesn't make sense."
"I know," Jack sighed.
"You're not telling me everything," Schuyler realized. He was protecting her. 'tell me the truth. There has to be a reason why they've been trying to kill me."
Jack hung his head. Finally he spoke. "A long time ago, during the crisis in Rome, the Pistis Sophia saw the future. She said that one day, the irrevocable bond among the Uncorrupted would break. That Gabrielle would spurn Michael and bear a daughter with a Red Blood. And that daughter would be the death of the Silver Bloods. Sophia has never been wrong."
"So I'm their death?" Schuyler found it absurdly funny. "Me? They're scared... of me?" A half-hysterical yelp escaped before she could stop herself. It was so absolutely ridiculous. What could she do to harm them? As the Inquisitor had pointed out, she had used her mother's sword and missed. She might be fast and strong and light, but she was not a fighter, not a warrior, not a soldier.
Jack crossed his arms. "It's nothing to laugh about. Leviathan would have killed you right there that night in Rio if he had known who you were. And now that he knows he was so close and failed to kill you, he's tracked you down here to finish the job."
"But how do you know Leviathan has tracked me?"
"Because I have been tracking Leviathan," Jack said grimly. "My father and I have been tracking him for months."
"Charles is here?" she asked. She wondered why the news did not make her feel safer. Charles Force was the greatest of them all. He was Michael, Pure of Heart, the Valiant, Prince of the Angels, Supreme Commander of the Lord's Army. She had been looking for Charles herself, and to know that he was here in Paris, and as her protector, or one of them, anyway, should have gladdened her heart. But it did not.
Charles Force was not a friend. He was not an enemy, but he was not a friend either. But maybe now she would be able to find out what Lawrence had asked her to do. Charles would have to tell her about the Van Alen Legacy. Schuyler had to know. She owed her grandfather that much. Jack nodded.
"Yes. He decided to come himself when the Conclave would not send the Venators after Leviathan following your testimony. We have been one step and two cities behind him for months. When Leviathan led us here, to this party, we thought he was after the countess, as she was instrumental in bringing about his imprisonment on Corcovado. But when we saw you in the ballroom, we suddenly knew what his real intentions were. Charles sent me to make sure you were safe while he took care of Leviathan himself."
So basically she was in danger from the baddest demon around. Wonderful. She was running from the Venators when she probably should have been running toward them, now that she knew what was truly after her.
"So you believe me? You believe that I didn't kill Lawrence like the Conclave thinks?" Schuyler asked.
He looked down. "I can't speak for the Conclave. But I have always believed you. I've always believed in you," he said softly.
"Right." She nodded, trying to appear businesslike, to hide the fact that she had been moved by his faith. Jack believed her. He was on her side. He didn't hate her, at least. He didn't hate her for breaking his heart. "So what now?"
"First things first," he said briskly. "Let's get out of this dungeon. I was worried you would choose this place to hide. And I think you've noticed it smells pretty awful down here."
ER 17
Mimi
Kingsley's face was unreadable, and Mimi could stand it no longer.
"So? What? She's gone to a Miley Cyrus concert? She's written a cell phone novel? What does it say?"
He quieted her with a look and showed them the letter. One line, written in the same beautiful calligraphy. Phoebus ostend praeeo.
Phoebus was the name of the sun king in the old tongue, Mimi knew, and the rest was easy enough to understand.
"The sun shall show the way," she said. "What does it mean?"
In answer, Kingsley folded up the note carefully and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
He has no idea, does he, Mimi thought. "Why would the Watcher take the trouble to send us a note but then have the note be nonsense?" she asked, annoyed. "And how did she know I was coming? And bringing a stuffed toy?"
"You forget. The Watcher can see into the future. If she was being held by Silver Bloods, as she surely was, she must have felt threatened enough to allow only the most cryptic of communications."
"It's a riddle. A clue," Ted said suddenly. "A clue to her whereabouts. 'the sun shall show the way."
