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  That they would risk so much for nothing awakened Kael from his numb descent. Even now, he would fight. He would survive. That was his sister out there racing across the forest, all consequences be damned. That was her fire streaking across the blue sky. The wild, roaring essence of the fireborn blazed within her. But what of him?

  I am the blood on their feathers, his father had spoken as part of his mantra. But it wasn’t true. Only one man carried that title. The blood, the light, it all ran in his veins. Kael closed his eyes and clenched his fists within their bonds. Bree was fireborn. Bree was unstoppable destruction and rage. Kael was lightborn. He bore their gifts, and not just their ability to share memories. He wielded something more. Something he’d only scratched the surface of. He’d sensed it when he first formed his memories into a gift to give others. A lurking power. A complete manifestation of his blood inheritance.

  The wings of an angel.

  Kael dared not think of how close he was to the ground, to the well, dared not think what might happen if knights had spotted his sister on the way to his rescue. He only focused on his blood and the connection therein. He sensed it immediately, and power flowed out from him with a terrifying eagerness. A sound like thunder accompanied a sudden brilliant warmth across his shoulder blades. His fall halted. Ringing filled his ears. Kael opened his eyes. The silver hands of the angel statues reached up for his hovering toes. The crowd recoiled in awe. He turned his neck, saw what they saw, and he mirrored their awe.

  Brilliant ethereal wings spread from his back, their light flowing from his spine like water. The wings didn’t flap or push. They only shimmered in place, a heavenly version of the harnesses their earthly Seraphim wore. Their overwhelming brilliance should have burned his eyes, but despite the incredible light, it soothed instead. Kael gasped, the tremendous strain of keeping the connection to the light in his blood active steadily eating at his strength.

  Move, he thought. His mind imagined his travel, and the wings tilted in response. Kael slowly hovered from over the well to the soft green grass. It took only a moment, but it felt as if Kael had run multiple miles. His mind blanked, and in that momentary darkness, the wings vanished. He fell to his back. Air escaped his lips, followed by a laugh. He saw his father above him, staring with mouth agape and body rigid. Kael couldn’t imagine his confusion.

  Fire and ice preceded his sister’s arrival. The elements ravaged the crowd. The few knights present died before they could even retaliate. A single bolt of lightning ripped into Liam’s chest, knocking him aside. He flew toward the forest upon recovering, weaving around a barrage of lances from Kael and Clara. The fact that he survived filled Kael with guilty relief.

  Saul dropped to the ground before him while the others continued to attack the few remaining soldiers.

  “I highly doubt you’re worth all this,” Saul said with a grin. He wrapped his arms underneath Kael’s armpits and lifted off.

  The four raced away from the execution, on a path straight for Weshern. Kael peered around Saul’s shoulder. His father did not give chase. Kael closed his eyes, relaxed against the leather straps, and thanked God for small favors.

  CHAPTER

  21

  They landed before the gates of the holy mansion, an additional escort of two Seraphs accompanying them from since their arrival over Weshern soil. Bree powered off her wings, relieved to set foot on solid ground. They were home. They were safe. Saul unbuckled his harness to free Kael from his perch. Her brother stumbled a bit before dropping to his knees.

  “I’m fine,” he said when Clara moved to help him. “Been a rough few days, that’s all.”

  “Wait here,” one of their escorts said. “Commander West has been demanding your presence all morning.”

  “Of course,” Bree said. It took a moment before she realized what the Seraph had said. “Wait—Commander West? What happened to Argus?”

  The Seraph glared at her, the viciousness in his eyes enough to send her back a step.

  “Just wait.”

  He crossed the stones and into the holy mansion. The four waited under the watchful eye of the other Seraph and several soldiers who were standing beside the gates. Bree didn’t like the way they watched her group. She knew she’d gone into Center without permission, but why would so many think ill of her? And why was Argus no longer commander?

  The strength in Kael’s legs returned soon enough. He whispered something to Clara, then separated from her and Saul while gesturing Bree closer.

  “Bree, there’s something you should know,” he said with lowered voice.

  First Argus, now this. Bree frowned and crossed her arms.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Kael kicked at the grass, eyes downcast. Bree knew this reaction well. Whatever news he had to share, he hadn’t a clue how to tell her.

  “Kael, whatever’s wrong, I’ll understand,” she said, trying to reassure him.

  “It’s Dad,” he blurted.

  The word laced ice around Bree’s spine.

  “What about him?” she asked.

  “I met him,” he said. “In the prison, we talked. He … he was even at the execution.”

  It couldn’t be true. Anger flushed her chest. She didn’t even know why, only that she couldn’t believe such a ridiculous idea.

  “Kael, he’s dead. It can’t have been him. They fooled you, that’s all.”

  “No,” Kael said, grabbing her arm. The look in his eye frightened her. “I talked to him. He survived the battle against Galen, and the theotechs brought him to Center to become a knight under orders that he never reveal himself to us.”

  Bree glanced at the doors to the holy mansion. So far no sign of Olivia. A shame. She’d have given anything for a distraction.

  “How … I … Kael, this is incredible,” she said. “What did you talk about? Does he know of all we’ve done? Will he visit once this war is over?”

  “He’s been brainwashed. We’re enemies now, don’t you get it?” he said, a bit of his own anger bubbling forth. “The only thing he told me was how we were traitors to him and Center.”

  “Only because we’re at war,” Bree said, not sure if she believed it but needing to believe it nonetheless. “Once things calm down and we find some semblance of peace, then I’m sure he will return to us. He has to, right?”

  Kael snapped completely.

  “Bree, he wasn’t just at my execution. He was the one holding the rope.”

  She couldn’t believe his words. Surely it was a lie. The world couldn’t be that cruel.

  “That can’t have been him,” she said. “He would never. That’s not who he is. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.”

  “He’s our father,” Kael said, “but you’re right, it’s not him. It’s not the man who raised us. Marius owns him now.”

  Bree was at a loss for words. She stood there, hands shaking, fighting back tears. Out of everything Center had taken from them, of all the death and destruction, must he take that from her too? Not only must he return her father from the dead, but as a foreign, hateful thing? Couldn’t he have stayed dead? Couldn’t her memory of him remain untainted?

  “I’m sorry,” Kael said. “I almost didn’t tell you. I thought maybe I’d just keep it to myself, you know?”

  She flung her arms around him and held him close.

  “And it would have been unfair to you,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Kael said. “We can handle everything, even this.”

  A metallic hum pulled their attention upward. Olivia landed in the middle of the four and shut off her wings with a flourish.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  Not addressing all of them, just Bree.

  “Getting my brother safely home and out of his imprisonment in Center,” she said none too kindly. “Is that a problem?”

  “That will depend,” she said. “Come with me. The Archon has questions for you.” Olivia looked her over, then snapped her finger
s at one of the escorting Seraphs. “And remove her harness and swords.”

  Bree reluctantly let them take her equipment. The lump in her throat insisted this went beyond simple questioning. They’d never before demanded that she disarm in the presence of the Archon. Why do so now?

  “Clara, your parents requested you return to your room and await their summons. The rest of you, return to camp. A Seraph will come to question you shortly.”

  Olivia took her into the mansion, guiding her to a private library near the heart of the building. The small room was quiet and empty but for three people. Archon Isaac and Avila sat in padded chairs softly talking. Johan waited a respectful distance away, calmly standing with his arms crossed behind his back as he glanced over rows of pre-Ascension books. When the doors opened to allow Bree and Olivia entrance, the scarred man turned to face them and dipped his head low in greeting. The two joined Johan in standing before the royal family.

  “Thank you for coming,” Isaac said. The coldness in his greeting worried Bree greatly. What was going on? Would the consequences for rescuing Kael be worse than she anticipated?

  “Leave us, Commander,” he ordered Olivia. The Seraph bowed low and left. Bree waited with her arms crossed behind her back, hands clutching her wrists to minimize her fidgeting amid the unbearable silence.

  “Is something the matter?” she asked the second the doors echoed shut.

  “There is,” Isaac said. “I have listened to multiple testimonies regarding Argus Summers’s assassination, and all appear to lead in a direction I would never have anticipated.”

  A combination of shock, denial, and horror slapped across Bree’s mind.

  “Argus’s assassination?” she asked. “This … no, that can’t be. When? How?”

  “That’s why we have summoned you,” Avila said. “Multiple soldiers have confirmed to me that you were the last to visit with the commander prior to the discovery of his body this morning.”

  “Not only that,” Isaac said, “but that you left with blood on your clothes.”

  It was too much. First her father miraculously returned from the dead, then Argus Summers was murdered in his sleep, and now witnesses claimed she left Argus’s tent covered with blood? She felt tears building in her eyes, the stress of it all scraping away any sense of her composure.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “I wasn’t there. I haven’t spoken to Argus since the day of Center’s invasion.”

  “So the men lied to us?” Rebecca asked. Bree sensed the accusation lingering behind every word.

  “No, I …” Bree shook her head. “I wasn’t even on Weshern soil last night. I was hidden on Center preparing for Kael’s rescue.”

  “And that in and of itself is another matter,” Isaac said. “Seraphim of Weshern represent all of Weshern, including myself. Assaulting Center without orders undermines my authority and sends a message I did not authorize to give. You acted behind my back, disobeyed my orders, and now you would tell me to trust you over the eyes of my own soldiers? Then what illusion did they see? How do you explain it, other than that more than eight of my men are either fools or liars?”

  Bree shook her head, her jaw locked open. Was she even hearing this? Or was she lost in some terrible nightmare?

  “This … this is insane,” she said. “Listen to what you’re saying, my Archon. You would call me a traitor, a murderer of my commander, to—to what end exactly?”

  “Did you inform Argus of your desire to rescue your brother?”

  Bree’s face flushed.

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “And did he approve?”

  He certainly hadn’t. He’d pushed for her to keep pressuring Rebecca and the Archon to resolve the matter.

  “No,” Bree said, standing up straight and swallowing. “He did not.”

  The Archon looked equal measures depressed and frustrated.

  “Then this tells a simple tale,” he said. “You requested aid in rescuing your brother and Argus denied you. When you persisted, he tried to stop you. Perhaps you didn’t mean to hurt him. Perhaps you were surprised and your combat instincts took over. Tell me the truth, and I shall give you every inch of leniency you deserve given your deeds as our Phoenix.”

  It was too much. Bree felt betrayed by their mistrust and confused by the statements of their witnesses. She’d left Argus’s tent covered with blood? How was that possible? Could someone have disguised themselves as her, perhaps an agent of Center to assassinate Argus and sow discord throughout Weshern?

  Bree started to speak up but Johan cut her off.

  “Archon, might I offer up words in defense of our dear Phoenix?” he asked.

  Isaac leaned back into his chair and gestured for him to continue.

  “First, I must ask, when did your soldiers witness Breanna entering the tent to speak with the commander?”

  Rebecca didn’t even have to glance at her notes.

  “Sometime after midnight,” she said.

  Johan smiled.

  “Breanna has not yet told you, but her plan to rescue her brother was plotted with me over the course of two nights. She conveyed clearly to me that Argus was unaware of her plans, and that if he was, he would object. Not only that, I was there when she and her friends departed together for Center. Our meeting was just before dark, and unless they turned an about-face for her to sneak into the camp, execute Argus without reason, and then depart, well …”

  The robed man shrugged.

  “I suggest questioning those who flew with her to see if she attempted any such thing.”

  Isaac’s eyes narrowed as he frowned.

  “Yet again I am asked to take your word over the word of my soldiers.”

  “Perhaps,” Johan said, a hard edge entering his voice. “But which of us would be the wisest to believe?”

  The implied threat was there in the open. Johan was staking his reputation, as well as his aid in Weshern’s rebellion, on Bree’s innocence. Rebecca looked disgusted, while Isaac appeared simply tired.

  “You have spoken truth after truth to the people of the islands, even if they were truths no one wished to hear,” the Archon said. “For that alone I will give your insistence a heavy weight. For now I must think on this, as well as wonder what it means if Bree is indeed innocent of the murder. Rebecca will be talking with everyone who joined you on your reckless mission, and I pray your testimonies do not contradict. One of the most important citizens of our island was brutally murdered. No one is above suspicion, not even you, Phoenix.”

  “I understand,” Bree said, trying to control her emotions. The last thing she needed was to be perceived as reacting guiltily.

  “Arresting you, or even declaring you a suspect in the murder, will only further damage our people’s fragile morale. While we continue the investigation you will be confined to the mansion grounds and denied access to any elements or Seraphim harnesses. I will issue no official decree. I will not even relay this order to my guards. This command is between us only, do you understand? However, if you leave the mansion for any reason I will publicly declare you a traitor to Weshern and demand your arrest, morale be damned. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Bree said. “And I promise to cooperate in any way you would ask of me. I am a Seraph of Weshern, my Archon, and I always will be.”

  Isaac nodded.

  “You are dismissed. Servants are already preparing you a permanent room on the grounds. Ask any one of them for directions and they will lead you there.”

  Bree didn’t have the heart to say thank you. She hesitated to leave. A hope had been building in her since Center retreated from Weshern soil: peace. And now, knowing of her father’s survival as a knight, that hope had only grown in her mind. If their nations reached peace, she could meet with him. They might talk, hear stories, fill in the many missing years in both halves of their lives …

  “My Archon, if I may make one request?” she asked.

  Isaac rubbed his chin.
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  “For all the good you’ve done our nation, I will allow you at least this. Speak it.”

  Bree knew she walked on thin ice, but she’d seen more than enough devastation across both Weshern and Center soil. What could she say that would put her in any worse position than the one she was already in?

  “We’ve both suffered greatly,” she said slowly and carefully. “Friend and foe alike. Center’s fields and homes are scorched and our Seraphim numbers dwindle. Surely now is the time to sue for peace? What demands could we make that Marius would not at least consider?”

  Johan cleared his throat behind her.

  “Rare is it when pursuing peace is an ignoble goal,” he said. “But this is one such time. Center’s defenses are at their weakest, and our alliance with the other islands has never been stronger.”

  “All of which implies our bargaining position has never been higher,” Avila interjected.

  “Indeed,” Johan said. “But think carefully on what we may ask. Peace is not enough. Marius’s execution is not enough. Not even freedom from Center’s control will grant your children and their children everlasting peace. Only one thing, Archon Willer. The secrets of the elements.”

  “We can continue to trade for our needed elements,” Bree argued. “Impose restrictions on the theotechs, trade agreements and the like. We can do that, can’t we?”

  “Agreements can be revoked,” Johan said. “Trade can diminish. Perhaps it will take years, maybe even decades, but so long as Center holds all the secrets to the creation of elemental prisms, the outer islands will never be safe from reconquering by an enemy bearing limitless weapons of war. I do not reject the idea of peace, I assure you. I reject a peace that is merely a trap set to ensnare our future generations into the same prison we revolt against now. Do not accept a fleeting victory that will only lead to a slow, painful defeat.”

  Bree felt frustrated and helpless. Deep down she knew there had to be a way for their nations to find peace, but neither could she refute Johan’s iron logic.

  “I sympathize with both of your desires,” Isaac said. “And I will be sending another offer to the Speaker requesting his surrender and acceptance of all our desired terms. If the angels are kind, their pride will not prevent them from seeing the better way for all our people. If Marius refuses, or offers anything less than full compliance with our terms, I will think on our next course of action. For now, let me grieve for the dead we have already lost.”