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I ignored him, frowning at Abigor. “Well if you’re not to blame, why did you let him try the spell in the first place?”
Abigor’s jaw dropped. “Let him? Does it look like I had much of a choice?”
The air shimmered between us, a precursor of what was to come if we didn’t control our tempers, but I ignored it and scoffed. “Well, you could have at least bothered to tell him you can’t resurrect the dead.”
“I did. Gods, are all angels this infuriating, or do you just work really hard at it?”
I turned to face him fully. “Oh come on. You’re a demon. He’s a human. Would you really have me believe—”
“Look, I’m sorry about your family; I really am,” Abigor said loudly. “But would you please release my bonds so I can get away from this angel?”
There was no answer. I turned to Julian and found him looking toward the village, his face ashen. “What have I done?” he muttered, his words barely audible. His gaze swung to the three graves, then to Abigor.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I—I should never have—”
Twisting, he looked to the ground, at a strange sigil carved into the dirt. He scraped his foot across it, smearing the symbol until it was just bare earth again.
