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17
The Woman in the Drawing
Iwondered how this parchment could have a drawing of Arina on it as she appeared now. She couldn’t possibly be old enough to be the person from this very old document. She was mortal. She aged.
Granted, lately there had been a lot of other things that didn’t make much sense.
Bella was still speaking, so overcome with enthusiasm that she hadn’t even noticed that I’d grown rather quiet. She should have known better. I rarely shut up.
“This woman, whoever she is, must know something about the wand. It’s not Thea. I’ve seen pictures of what she looks like.”
I tapped the parchment. “Her name is Arina.”
“You know her?” Bella said, surprised.
“She helped me out not so long ago.”
“And this Arina woman knows Thea?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Arina isn’t from this world,” I told her. “Maybe her path once crossed with Thea’s.”
“We have to speak to her. She could lead us to Thea.”
Bella looked hopeful. No, more than just hopeful. She was practically bursting with eagerness.
“Or maybe she doesn’t know Thea,” I said. “Maybe the page is showing us Arina because she is an expert in immortal artifacts. Her magic allows her to trace the history of any person’s or any object’s magic—basically, how it got where it is today. Maybe there are clues in the wand’s magical history that will lead us to Thea. And Arina is just another step in our quest to find her.”
“One way or the other, we need to speak to Arina,” Bella said. “I need all the help I can get to find Thea’s grimoire.”
I sat down and pressed a button on the armrest to bring down the television. Then I dialed the Legion office in New Orleans.
Jace Angelblood answered my video call. New Orleans was the seat of his territory, the South Territory. Seeing his face again, after meeting his mother Alice, made me really appreciate how much he looked like her. Except for his severe, closely-cropped haircut. That was all his father’s influence. I guessed that’s why I’d always thought Jace looked like Colonel Fireswift.
“Pandora, a pleasure as always. I do hope you’re not calling about the end of the world again. You really must eventually learn to clean up your own messes.”
His words were so smooth, so angelic. And he’d even managed to take a dig at me during his greeting. Colonel Fireswift would have been so proud. Except, of course, Jace’s jab was all in good fun because we were friends. Which his father most certainly did not approve of.
“Actually, I was calling about something a little less exciting. Sorry, Jace.”
Jace and I had been part of the same Legion initiation class. Like all Legion brats, he’d joined in New York, the same city that boasted the world’s only academy devoted to the education and training of the angels’ children.
“Perhaps you’ve heard of my new Angels’ Court.”
“Oh, yes,” Jace chuckled. “Your new project is creating quite a stir. Several angels have called me to complain about it.”
“Oh, really. Which ones?” I asked, curious.
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Never mind.” I gave my hand a breezy wave. “I bet I could figure it out. But why would those angels complain to you?”
“They probably hoped to gain my support,” he said. “Because they think I’m just like my father.”
I flashed him a grin. “If only they knew that we’re friends.”
“Let’s keep that under wraps, Leda. I’d prefer not to go to war with any other territory commanders during my first year as an angel.”
“All right, but you can’t hide that you have a soul forever, Angelblood.”
