“How much of that did you hear just now?” I ask him, as his dark blue eyes drill into me.
“All of it,” Baldur says simply, as he stares me down. “Rikyava, Lærke’s right. We need to call the Intercessoria. Because if you all are right—and from everything I experienced during our Bloodwalking, I believe you are—then we need all the help we can get. It’s time to call in the cavalry. Even if the Intercessoria refuse to deal with us, wehaveto letthem know what a risk this is to our world… and perhaps, the entire cosmos. If we can’t stop this cosmic division energy… someone needs to have a contingency plan. A way of keeping Pandora’s evil even moderately inside the box. Even if it means sacrificing our entire world to do it.”
As I listen to Baldur’s sage words, I feel something firm inside me. He’s right; a good commander considers not only the impact a battle might have on their forces, buteverythingthat is at stake. Right now, our entire universe might be, though we are dealing with only one small part of it.
But evil like this has a way of spreading. Like Baldur, I know it’s time to call this shit. As I find a deep place inside me now, I recognize the calm within the storm. I am that place, as I flare Insinio Brandfort’s personal phone number bright inside my mind now. It flares gold, then blazes white inside my mind.
As Insinio arrives, dressed in full black Intercessoria armor—for war.
“Hey, badass.” Insinio’s seven-layer, silver-black Archangel wings descend to the floor from his sudden portaling in with his vast angelic power. They whisper through the room in a massive wind of their own power as he reaches up, drawing his massive silver longsword from a holster across his back.
Planting it tip down on the floor, he folds his massive hands atop it, as if he’s about to fight.
“Hey badass, yourself.” I banter back, though the eye contact we’re making is beyond intense, as I’m flooded with his gargantuan Archangelic power.
“Lay it on me,” he says quietly now, as his vivid silver eyes penetrate me. “I can feel you’ve uncovered one big wallop of a discovery about the Black Dragon.”
“One moment.” A new voice grates into our conversation as I am concussed by a second, massive superpower portaling in. Insinio’s partner in the Intercessoria, Heathren Merkami, has also arrived. His elegantlylean and almost emaciated height is a dire contrast to Insinio’s massive bulk.
Heathren’s fierce opal-white eyes with just a trace of silver burn me like firebrands now. Shaking out his own obsidian-dark wings next to Insinio’s, he has two wicked silver Archangel blades in his black-buckled getup. He sets his hands on their hilts in a fierce stance like he’s also about to do battle, as he lifts an eyebrow at us.
“Continue,” Heathren says in a voice that is musical and rich, yet also rasps of all things war. “Just hold your entire memory of this issue in your conscious mind, Rikyava. Everything you’ve discovered so far about the Black Dragon and its origins—and we’ll find it.”
I nod, knowing that whatever they’re going to do to find my memories won’t be comfortable, but it’s probably the fastest way to get our allies in the Intercessoria on the same page as us. Inhaling deeply, I find a steady place as Baldur and Mikkel take my hands, Lærke sitting close and touching my knee for support.
“I’m ready,” I say as I lift my chin.
Insinio and Heathren both nod. And then their dual magics dive into me, hitting me with two megawatt bombs of pure Archangelic firepower all at once.
I reel as I’m hit; I feel how the Archangels are trying to be gentle, but because their power is just so massive, it’s beyond them. I feel them trying not to hurt me, however, as their massive magics seethe inside me; this is not an Intercessoria interrogation, and I’m not a prisoner being forced to give up secrets.
But there’s just so much information to get through; I feel the power duo’s magics blister all through my memories, everything we’ve learned about the Black Dragon since we started this hunt. The parts inside the Void are the most disastrous to recall. I draw in tight with my Bloodmates as I grip Mikkel’s and Baldur’s hands so hard my nails dig into them.
Because it’s painful, reliving all the agony we endured from thatdivisive energy in the Void. It’s only an echo of the real thing, however; weathering it, I am stalwart as the Intercessoria’s inquisition finally ends.
I felt how it staggered both Bjorn and Ström from far away, however. For once, I’m thankful both mostly had shields up against me and the rest of our Bloodbond right now.
Even though it’s a problem in the long run.
“Great Gods of the Source.” Insinio whistles as he and Heathren finish. Their faces drawn, both look like they’ve been through battle as they shake their silver-dark wings out, making them ripple through the space. I wonder if they experienced my memories like I did when they searched my thoughts. But I have no more time to ponder it as both Archangels lock eyes squarely with me.
Both Insinio and Heathren are no bullshit as their intense silver eyes pin me now. I hold their gazes, unafraid as I shudder off the last of their invasive Archangelic magic. I’ve given them everything I know about the Black Dragon and the divisive cosmic force that drives it. Now it’s tit-for-tat.
As we learn what they know about it, and have been withholding.
“Spill. What do you and your people know about this thing?” I ask now, as I hold Heathren and Insinio’s gazes, hard.
“Rikyava. If everything you’ve shown us is true, and I have no doubt it is, then what we’re dealing with is an incredibly ancient cosmic force, and dangerous in the extreme.” Heathren is the one to speak first, giving it to me straight as his pale white-silver eyes pin me. “I have no doubt the top brass know what we’re facing—this rift-energy out in the stars. The Intercessoria made a very bad move, not liaising with you right from the beginning. They did not divulge this information to Insinio and me, however.” Here, Heathren exchanges a dire glance with his burly partner. “Else, we would have come to you straightaway with it.”
“I believe you.” I know Heathren doesn’t lie. It’s not that he can’t; Archangels can lie their asses off, if they have to. It’s just that hedoesn’t. I hold Heathren’s gaze, unafraid but furious that the Intercessoria held out on me.
On all of us Blood Dragons, when they could have helped us so much.
“Does this ancient cosmic force have a name?” I ask now, wondering how much the Intercessoria know about it.
“Nah. Most of them don’t.” Insinio speaks up now as he holds my gaze with a tough, sad smile. “You can bet it is something ancient, though. Which makes sense that the top brass have kept ridiculously silent on this one.”
“Why don’t your superiors fill you in on critical information like this? Aren’t you both Juds?” Mikkel asks them now, and from the way he asks it, I can tell he’s been on the receiving end of Intercessoria investigations, maybe even an interrogation or two, in the past. He’s not hostile with the Juds, but he’s cagey, as he cinches close to me and watches them with dark eyes.
