“Can we walk on this?” Malia asks at a whisper, as if she’s afraid of making a sound.
“Let me see…” Testing the ice, I shift my front foot forward—just an inch—and stop as soon as the soft cracking sound reaches my ears. It comes from deep within the lake, beneath the outer layer where I stand, and the swirl of liquid below me quickens.
“Nova.” The warning tone in Roman’s voice draws my attention to him.
I follow his line of sight. He’s staring intently at the forest.
Angels—at least fifty that I can quickly count—step from the trees to form a line all around the edge of the lake. They’re all armed, their weapons glinting silver, gold, and bronze in the brightening light, while the angels themselves somehow look both ethereal and warrior-like.
They wear a mix of linens, which are tied around their waists for males, and up across their breasts for the females. Some wear armor as well, as shiny as their weapons. Their wings aren’t visible, and I wonder if they usually conceal them in this world.
Three break away from the main group ahead of us, while the rest remain silent and staring. Of the three, two are male and one is female. All three are dressed in white and gold linen, but only one of the men wears armor.
The woman has dark skin and a mass of corkscrew curls that frame a breathtakingly beautiful face. As they draw closer, I make out more details, from her full, red lips to the unusual mauve of her eyes. She carries a kind of sword I’ve never seen before. Longer than her arms, it has a split down the center of the main blade, leaving two distinct and lethal points. The hinge at the hilt makes me suspect that the weapon can change its shape during a fight.
The men frame her, one with dark-brown skin, while the other’s skin is so white, there’s almost no pigment at all. The fair-skinned man wears a simple, white cloth around his waist, his lithe form on view. His expression is blank, and his eyes are a clear green as he observes us.
I sense no overt hostility from him or the female, who seem to float as they stroll toward us.
But the other man—the dark-skinned angel—prowls forward like a predator. He’s huge, as if he’s competing with Roman for size, and that’s saying something.
I’m immediately wary of the giant angel, from the form-fitting armor that covers his chest, forearms, and thighs in gold and bronze plating to the glint in his dark eyes and the scowl that pulls at the masculine beauty of his face.
Of all three, he’s the one who appears to mean us the most harm. That is, assuming the other two aren’t as skilled at deception as demons and will reveal their true colors when they choose.
“Hold your ground,” Roman says, his voice low. “If they wanted us dead, they would have attacked already.”
I trust his judgement, but I also expect to feel the power of his runes dancing across the air and brushing against my arms. Instead, the air remains cold and crisp—empty of his power.
It’s also empty of mine. I seek my demon energy within me, the assault of darkness I expected to rise at the angels’ appearance, but there’s a void that I can’t explain.
My anxiety surges, but I try to remain calm as the angels stop ten paces from us.
Up close, they’re even more otherworldly. Considering I’ve just spent more than a week in a demon world that surprised me with its shining beauty, it feels odd to be awed by the way the angels seem to glow. But awed I am.
The giant angel with the dark-as-sin eyes speaks first. “My name is Adriel. This lake protects our world. All who enter Stella-Astrum must pass across it, but only those with the lightest souls will survive. All others will be consumed by its waters upon taking their first steps.”
Well, that would explain why they haven’t attacked us.Their world will do it for them.
Adriel’s eyes narrow as he contemplates us. “You are demons. Your souls are heavy. You will not pass without our help.” His lips press together in an authoritative line before he adds, “Not least because you cannot access your power in this place of judgement.”
Andthatwould explain why Roman hasn’t vanished the weapon or readied runes in case we need to fight—not to mention why there’s a void inside me where my demon power rests.
It hasn’t escaped my attention that, although Adriel seems to be keeping all of us within his sights, he directs his speech toward me. I’m not sure how quickly word spreads across the three worlds, but it’s possible the angels I encountered on Earth might have told their people about me.
I open my mouth to explain our presence, only to slam it shut when Malia snaps, “Only the lightest souls may pass, you say?”
A look of surprise passes across Adriel’s face when his gaze flashes to my sister. I wish I could move to the side and block her from view because of all of us, she’s the most gentle and empathetic, and the look he gives her is combative at best. But she seems determined to draw his attention.
With her chin raised and her brown eyes unusually cold, she slips her front foot along the ice, edging forward, her breath visibly held. To my surprise, I don’t hear any cracking. She quickly lets out her breath and takes confident steps forward, cupping her palms in front of her chest to access her power as she moves.
The angels around the clearing gasp audibly when her power flares between her palms. It’s a bright, pure glow, the kind of calming energy that she uses to soothe my frayed nerves, and it fills me with peace even now.
So much for their securities…
She strides right up to the giant angel as he watches her with a deepening crease in his forehead and a suddenly curious gleam in his dark eyes.
Stopping only a step away from him—so close that she has to tip her head back to glare up at him—she says, “Is that light enough for you?”
