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Cordelia hurried to join her. The shale fell away sharply below them. Beyond it, bathed in the glow of the bloody sun, was a plain studded with boulders. At the edge of the plain the city of Idumea spread out, a gargantuan dark ruin. She had expected to see the remains of streets and houses, but almost everything had collapsed into rubble. Here and there they could spot the fallen demon towers: tree trunks of adamas, reflecting the dull red sun. Ringing the city were the ruins of the walls that had formed its perimeter.
Like their own Alicante, the city was built around a hillside, the upper part of which was half-hidden by lowering black clouds. Still, Cordelia could make out the shape of a massive fortress at the top, circled by a stone wall, its towers silhouetted against the sky.
“Idumea,” she murmured. “James and Matthew are right there—”
They exchanged a quick look, full of the remembrance of Lilith’s warning: You cannot travel at night—you will have to seek shelter once the moons rise, or die in the dark.
“We could run,” Lucie murmured. “If we could make it to the city, perhaps we could travel in the shelter of the rubble—”
Cordelia shook her head immediately. “No.”
It hurt even to say it. She wanted as badly as Lucie did to reach the fortress now. But the sky was turning rapidly from red to black, and more importantly, Lucie looked drained. Even now, as she shook her head and whispered, “We can’t just wait,” her face was drawn tight with exhaustion, her eyelids drooping. It would be a difficult task at the best of times to dash across the sand and climb the broken walls of Idumea; for Lucie, right now, Cordelia feared, it would be suicidal.
“We can’t.” Cordelia forced the words past her dry and burning throat. “We’d have to make it to Idumea, through the city, then to the fortress—all in the pitch black, without witchlights, not knowing what’s out there—and if we die, there won’t be anyone to save them. You know that, just as well as I do.”
And I can’t risk you, Luce, Cordelia thought. Not like that.
After a long moment, Lucie nodded. “Fine. But we can’t just stand here, either. We need to find somewhere to take shelter.”
“I’ve an idea.” Cordelia started down the slope of the hill. They reached the plain just as the sun was dipping below the horizon, creating a vast chessboard of shadow and light. Up close, it was clear that the boulders were not natural formations, but pieces of the city itself, torn from the ground and scattered across the plain by some immense and terrible force. Chunks of walls, sheets of uneven cobblestone, even an old cistern turned on its side.
Cordelia led Lucie to a spot where two slabs of broken wall leaned together, forming a sort of triangular, open-sided cave. As they neared the shelter, something flashed by overhead with an echoing shriek.
It was the call of a monstrous bird of prey. “Quick,” Cordelia said, catching hold of Lucie’s hand; they scrambled through the narrow entrance of the makeshift cave, ducking into the protected hollow below the broken walls just as the shadow swooped past, close enough for the massive creature’s wings to stir the sand.
Lucie shuddered.
“We’d better unpack,” Cordelia said, “before it’s too dark to see.” Lucie watched with dull exhaustion as Cordelia opened her pack, wincing—she’d cut her hand on Cortana in the mad scramble to get into the cave, and a thin cut on her palm was bleeding. At least it was her left hand, she thought, as she hurriedly took out the small blanket she’d packed and unrolled it. She unstrapped Cortana and leaned it against a wall, then retrieved a flask of water and a slab of ship’s biscuit as Lucie fetched her own blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, shivering.
It was dark, and it was going to get darker as the last light faded from the sky. They had brought nothing to make a fire, though, and one would certainly attract attention: here on this dark plain, it would be as bright and visible as a spark among ashes. Cordelia hurried to unscrew the metal flask, to pass some of the hard biscuit to Lucie, before the last of the light was gone—
“Look,” Lucie said, and Cordelia realized that even though total darkness had fallen outside their small shelter, she could still see Lucie’s face. Their space was enveloped in a dull golden glow—and as she turned, she saw that the source of the light was Cortana, its hilt burning dimly, like a half-doused torch.
“Why is it doing that?” Lucie whispered, breaking off a small piece of biscuit.
Cordelia shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone understands the blades of Wayland the Smith entirely, and what they can do.”
And yet—she felt a thrum across her left palm, where she’d cut herself with the blade. As if Cortana knew of her wound, and was calling out to it. To her.
Lucie chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you remember,” she said, “when we were children? I was looking at the cliff and I was remembering… you know. When you saved my life. Do you remember?”
Of course she remembered. Lucie, tumbling from the path along the ridge. Cordelia, flat on her stomach, gripping her friend’s hand as Lucie hung over the long fall below. “I was so terrified,” Cordelia said. “That a bee would sting me, or I’d lose my grip, or let go of you somehow.”
“I know. I was in awful danger, but the strange thing was, I felt so safe. Because you had hold of me.” Lucie looked steadily at Cordelia. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“For not telling you about… well, where to start? For not telling you about Jesse. I was falling in love with him, and I knew I’d do anything at all to get him back, to make him alive again. I knew I might even do things you wouldn’t approve of. Like working with Grace. I should have been truthful. I told myself Grace was never any threat to our friendship. But lying about her—that was the threat. I was scared, but—but that’s no excuse. I should have told you.”
“What about the parabatai ceremony?” said Cordelia. “Not telling me about the ghosts you saw—I don’t understand it.”
“I was afraid that you’d think I was a monster,” Lucie said, in a small voice. “Finding out about Belial—I felt corrupted. I always thought of the parabatai ceremony as a perfect act of goodness. Something that would make our friendship not just special but—but holy, like what my father and Uncle Jem had. But then I felt as if perhaps I was tainted, as if I did not deserve a perfect act of goodness. I feared if you knew, you would turn away—”
“Lucie.” Cordelia dropped her dry biscuit somewhere in the sand. “I would never turn from you. And what a thing to imagine—do you think that because I am Lilith’s paladin, I am a monster?”
Lucie shook her head. “Of course not.”
“It is easy to confuse monstrousness and power,” said Cordelia. “Especially when one is a woman, as one is not supposed to possess either quality. But you, Lucie—you have a great power, but it is not monstrous, because you are not monstrous. You have used your ability for good. To help Jesse, to get us to Edom. When you saved me from the Thames. When you comfort the dead.”
