“Why would someone do that to themselves?”
Cheriour stared straight ahead, his jaw ticking. “This world is not kind. Some prefer to live an empty existence. But the Wraiths are fodder; they are easy to kill. Celestials are not.”
I blinked. “Aren’t they the ones sending mutant kids toyourarmy?”
“Yes.”
“Then…I’m so confused.” I knew I was nursing a concussion. But, man, this conversation had amped the headache up a few notches.
Cheriour’s mouth did that twisting thing again. Like he was struggling to get the right words out. “There aretwoCelestial armies at war with each other.”
“Oookay, so who are the good guys? If they’re both Celestials…”
“It’s…complicated.” He sighed and tilted his head back, staring at the sky. A breeze trickled through, ruffling the frizzy strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail.
There was something about him just then. I didn’t know what. Maybe it was his posture; the slumped, yet tense, stance of his shoulders. Or the tender way he held the wounded boy. Or the look on his face: a far-away, almost wistful expression.
Whatever it was, I felt like I was seeing him—reallyseeing him—for the first time.
He was not much older than me, but he looked ancient. Frail. Exhausted. As though he’d endured centuries of unending trauma.
So this time, when he talked, I kept my thoughts to myself.
“Celestial lore is present in nearly every culture,” Cheriour said after a long stretch of silence. “I’m sure you’ve heard versions of it, yes?”
I nodded when he lowered his head and turned those toneless eyes toward me.
“This is becauseCelestialsare present in every culture.” He refocused his gaze on his soldiers. “They reign in the Celestial City, tasked with breathing life into humans, animals, insects, and vegetation. They are also responsible for the plagues, storms, and other disasters that destroy life. Whatever is needed to maintain balance.” He paused. Pursed his lips. “Celestials are the Guardians ofallCreation. And living things must eventually perish.”
OMG. I hadso manyquestions.
I sank my teeth into my tongue. Nope. I wouldnotstart running my mouth now. Not when he was finally talking.
Although, with his drawl, this conversation would take about a year.
My tongue ached as I dug my teeth in further.
Cheriour’s gaze traveled endlessly over his soldiers. Tension rolled off him in waves, even as he continued in his unhurried cadence. “One Celestial, Ramiel, sought to use the power of the City for…other endeavors. He tried to declare himself King, even though the City has no solitary ruler.”
There’s one in every crowd.
Cheriour turned to me.
Fuck. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Some,” his lips jerked, but he ignored my comment otherwise, “were eager to bow to Ramiel. Either they agreed with his philosophies or believed they would gain from his rule. The rest allied themselves with Raphael—”
“Ooh, the Ninja Turtles are involved?”
“—the most vocally opposed to Ramiel’s ideals. This war began in the Celestial City. Had it remained there, catastrophe would’ve ensued. So Raphael lured Ramiel out of the city and trapped him here.” Cheriour glanced at the heavens again. “Thus, humans were brought into the war. Ramiel began taking souls to create his Wraiths. Raphael,” Cheriour’s chest expanded as he inhaled, “created the hybrids, using them to help protect the rest of humanity. It worked. For a time.” His jaw clenched. “Until an event forced Raphael to recall his soldiers to the City. There have been no new hybrids since. Liam was one of the last.”
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I wrenched my teeth out of my tongue. “The Ninja Turtle up and left? After he drop-kicked this fight to your doorstep? What ajackass. And this is the good guy?”
“It’s not so simple,” Cheriour said. “Raphael’s priority was always to protect the Celestial City. If Ramiel were to succeed in his quest and regain access to the City…” He hesitated, furrowing his brow. Like he was constipated and straining to crap out the words. “This world won’t be alone.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“Humans believe time to be a linear line.” Cheriour’s voice was now slower than a sloth creepy-crawling up a tree. “But it’s vast. And complex. The past, present, and future exist simultaneously. Humans are toolimitedto see this.Celestials are not. Ramiel and his army are the exceptions. As long as they cannot return to the Celestial City, their powers are restricted. They cannot travel to different eras, nor can they seek refuge in another world. They are confined to Sakar and must live as humans do: experiencing time linearly.”
